#was in the mood to do another one of these

[tossawary]

One piece of acting advice that has stayed with me for years in regards to both writing and drawing as well is: "Don't use the body to act what the character is saying. Act what the character is THINKING."

Like, as a very, very basic example: a character is apologizing by saying, "I'm sorry." But that line is going to look and sound different depending on what the character is thinking. Crossed arms and a sullen tone can mean that a character is actually thinking: "I don't mean it and also I hate you." A pleading tone and reaching out to take the other character's arm can mean: "Please don't leave me." A tired voice and slumped shoulders within context could mean: "I did what I had to do."

This is one way to begin to do "Show, Don't Tell" in storytelling. It is trusting your audience to see the depth and to catch on to the things you leave unsaid. It's fun to let the audience be observant and clever. It is also reflective of real life, where people are often scared of being vulnerable, or don't necessarily even understand their own emotions, or can't articulate their own thoughts, or have difficulty identifying the true feelings of the people around them, and so don't say very much.

There are exceptions to this advice, of course. In writing especially, rather than in a visual medium, some POV characters are very good at reading emotions from body language and others are not, and their observations in the narration may reflect this skill. Some characters will assume everyone around them is always angry with them or simply not pay attention to other people's moods at all, personalities which can also be subtly communicated to the audience and later used in the story in some interesting way.

Some characters have excellent control over their body language and tone of voice, because they are on-guard, highly trained in some fashion, or a very good liar. They will not easily communicate their true thoughts through their body language or their actions. Their lie can be so good that it can be slipped past the audience as nothing important to the plot until it comes back to bite. Their oddly perfect control over their body in a tense situation can instead maybe be used to indicate to the POV character and/or the audience: "Oh, there's something WRONG with this person."

Body language will also change by culture and class and so on. This clash can cause communication problems between characters, as a character's affectionate pat on the shoulder of another might be intended as casual comfort, but be received as overly intimate condescension. Different cultures / people can even have very different opinions on what level of eye contact and overlapping speech is rude.

This advice was originally given to me in the context of illustration and animation, in which it is very common for inexperienced artists to act out the words that the character is saying in mime-like gesture. In media for young children, we might choose to keep things very simple, as toddlers struggle to learn what it looks like and feels like to be angry or happy. But past that? People don't actually behave this way. What we say and what we really mean are not always synchronized, and we can use the body to communicate this.

[thegoldencontracts]

Pining!Dormheads

Riddle is quite deep in denial at first. He truly can't comprehend it. Him? Pining for another? It makes no sense! It's really quite the difficult thing to wrap his head around. Once he accepts it, he'll be as cordial as he can around you. If only you didn't fluster him so greatly.

Leona's just barely softer around you. He always just happens to have anything you need lying around in his room, always in a slightly better mood than usual, and- you know. He's clingy, too, if you're the type who's okay with that. Just don't call out his affections. Or do, considering how uncharacteristically cute his flustered reaction is.

Azul is rather upset about his love. He's meant to be rational, logical, cold. And yet, you make his heart flutter so greatly. He's rather snippy with you at times, but then he turns around and tutors you free of charge. It's rather amusing, really.

Kalim is rather quick to process his feelings. Although he can be oblivious at times, he's rather emotionally intelligent. He doesn't pine for long, telling your of his feelings in the nicest way he can, but when he does pine, he'll likely show his affection by simply being there more! And through gifts, of course. Lots of gifts.

Vil gets you skincare, makeup, and the like. He attempts to help you clean your room, make food, and the like. He loves you, and part of that is wanting to help you be the best version of yourself. Even if he can be a bit too stern at times, he's usually very helpful. He also gets a tad flustered if you ever truly manage to turn the tables on him, care for him like he does for you.

Idia is rather confused by everything. What is this? Why is he blushing whenever you're around like some cringey Dating Sim Love Interest? Is he really a dandere? Or all the dere types? Actually, he really should've seen that one coming. He's rather awkward around you, even more so than usual.

Malleus is rather oblivious to his own emotions. Why exactly do you make his heart flutter so greatly? Is he sick, perhaps? Still, you make him rather happy, and he enjoys that. He gives you gifts and listens to your little rants about that one boy who keeps reminding Professor Trein about the homework. He just- wants to spend time with you, to make you happy.

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

Can you do Paige x really short reader like 4’10 bc that’s my height and I’m 20 and I get no love whatsoever 🤣

height difference | paige bueckers

You groaned as Paige laughed at you from the couch.

Paige, being funny girl she thinks she is, decided to place your favorite claw clip at the highest part of the shelf. And you, with your short height, struggled and tried to reach for it.

“Paige it’s too early for this!” You jumped, attempting to reach for your claw clip.

She grinned and shook her head. “You’re so cute. I could watch you all day.”

You tried to grab it one last time, before sighing and finally giving up.

Paige pouted mockingly. “Aw, what’s wrong?”

You crossed your arms and glared at her. “Will you please get it for me?”

Paige scratched her chin to make it look like she was thinking. “I’d rather not.”

You groaned and started to walk towards your bedroom door with a frown on your face.

“Where are you going?” The blonde sat up.

“I’m just gonna use another claw clip.”

Paige’s eyes widened, noticing your mood before running over to you and hugging you from behind.

“I’m sorry baby. Here! I’ll get it for you.” She reached for the claw clip effortlessly and handed it to you.

You tried to keep a straight face, failing to do so once you snicker as you clip your hair up.

Paige whined. “You know I hate when I think you’re mad at me!”

You laughed. “I’m sorry! You wouldn’t get it for me and you banned me from using the chair! What was I supposed to do?!”

She rolled her eyes and put an arm around your shoulders, leading you towards your bed.

“I’m sorry.” She kissed the side of your head, grinning. “I probably will do it again though.”

hi anon thanks for this request!! sorry this is more of a blurb, i could always try and make another if you’d like but HOPE U ENJOYED STILL!!

[gwilymz]

Crawling After You (Patrick Zweig x Reader)

includes: mutual pining, friends to lovers, secret relationship

Patrick was your best friend in the whole world since childhood. You both went to tennis camps together and then to boarding school. Your parents are best friends, and they all thought your friendship would fizzle out by the time you hit puberty, but you stayed close.

And both of you would be in your own respective relationships that would inevitably fizzle out when your partners couldn’t get past your closeness. The bona fide twinkle in your eyes when you saw each other, even when it had only been a day or two.

Your friends all have crushes on him; they giggle and twirl their hair at his matches. They say they’re there for you, but you see how they blush when Patrick grunts, when he peels his shirt off and throws his battered racket against the pavement.

“You’ve never thought about fucking him?” Your friend asked you after your match. You were pissed about losing; Patrick was in your peripheral, beaming with his own friends about his big win against an NCAA favorite from UCLA.

“No.” You took a gulp of water, shaking your head. “I haven’t.”

“Do you think he thinks of fucking you?” Another friend butted in. “I mean, how can you resist that?”

You repeated yourself. “No.” Another sip of water, to help you hold your tongue. You weren’t in a good mood. “Patrick does not need help in the dating department, I know he doesn’t think of me that way. We are friends and that’s it.”

Except, since last summer, you had been fucking. A lot. The problem was that you and Patrick hated being told, “I told you so.”

And every single person you had crossed paths with, from middle school teachers, to tennis coaches, to acquaintances in your class were convinced you and Patrick would inevitably end up together. The story was too picturesque, your interests too aligned.

So you kept it a secret. You kept your chin high when girls fawned over Patrick, and he bit the inside of his cheek when boys whistled as you entered the court.

Last summer, Patrick and you got in a huge fight. You had never fought before; your friendship was uncomplicated. Neither of you ever directly competed against the other in tennis, you had almost everything in common. But after a team dinner one night in July, he and you were seething.

“Oh my god, Patrick.” You shoved his chest, annoyed that he barely moved from the force. You were in the parking lot, leaning against his expensive Jeep, a gift from his parents. “All you do is talk about the most shallow, meaningless fucking things.”

It started after he began to complain about your piqued interest in politics. You had always been well-read, but as Patrick said, “You just don’t need to talk about it all the fucking time.”

“What the fuck do I talk about that’s shallow? Tennis? Because last time I checked we both do that.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t fucking shove me.”

You mocked him. You knew that was his biggest pet peeve. “You’re mad because I care about what’s happening in the world? Do you hear yourself?”

“I’m mad because you sound like a piece of shit politician, and your fucking personality changes as soon as you start talking to a new guy. And you’re becoming so fucking pretentious since you started hanging out with that fucking douchebag Vincent.”

You scoffed. “I find it funny you call me pretentious when you grew up in a fucking castle. Ironic coming from a kid who had escargot and caviar served to him on a platter at age 6.”

“What are you even talking about? You’re just saying shit that doesn’t even make sense because you know I’m right!”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “I don’t change my personality. I’m not even talking to anyone right now, and if I were, why does that even concern you?”

“Oh okay.” Patrick nudged you to move you away from the driver’s side door, letting himself in. “Get in, it’s about to rain.”

“No. What were you gonna say?”

He yelled your name. “I don’t want to get drenched. Just fucking get in!”

You crossed your arms. He was right, the wind was picking up, goosebumps peppered your arms all over and your hair blew into your face.

“Fine, then don’t.” He got into the car and started it. The headlights hurt your head and burned saucers into your retinas.

The rain began slow; fat droplets splashed against the curb and dribbled down your cheeks. And then it was faster, and the wind grew stronger, and you stood your ground. Patrick watched you, he watched your gray Stanford shirt get soaked, and your tennis skirt become plastered to your legs. Your hair was flush against your cheeks, eyelids heavy.

“Fucking get in the car.” He wasn’t yelling anymore. His shoulders were slumped, and you know he felt defeated as he got out of the car.

“Why don’t you tell me anything?” You started to cry. You didn’t know where this was coming from; this tantrum.

Patrick was soaked too. “I do tell you things!”

“Not as much.”

“It’s hard. It was easier when we were kids.”

“But what changed?” The engine grew louder, almost crescendoing in your ears.

"We aren't kids anymore. Everyone is always asking about me and you. There's no such thing as our innocent little friendship."

His words broke your heart. And he saw that as your shoulders slumped and your eyes welled with tears. "So what?" You asked. "What are you saying?"

Patrick sighed, pushing his wet hair away from his face. His white t-shirt was see-through, his broad shoulders rippling as the wind tore against his lean body. His voice was soft now. "Let's go back to the hotel. Stay in my room and we can talk."

The ride to the hotel was silent. Usually, Patrick would complain about water all over his leather seats, but he didn't say a word, and you wondered why, out of all the heartbreaks you had been through, why this conversation had chewed you up and spit you out so violently.

You sat on the bed with him and waited for him to speak first.

"Do you need a towel?"

You shook your head.

"What I was saying before," He began. "Why do we act like it's normal that in each of our relationships, the common denominator is that we are way too close?"

"We've never-"

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying maybe this friendship isn't really serving us anymore, and maybe it's causing more harm than good."

"You know what?" You stood up, grabbing your bag. "I've sat here and been your best fucking friend for twenty years, and now you're just taking the easy way out like you always do." You slung it over your shoulder. "I'll leave. Don't worry, I'll leave."

You wanted him to chase you down. He didn't. He didn't say bye or that he was sorry. One big fight during twenty years of friendship, and it would seemingly be your last.

The tournament was going on for another 3 days. After 2 nights of barely sleeping and going through the motions, of leaving the court whenever a mens' match was on, there was a knock on your door. You let him in; of course you did.

"I wasn't telling you I didn't want to be friends anymore." He whispered. Your back was against the door.

"Okay."

His finger trailed from the dip of your collarbones to your chin. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed, loudly, looking up at him inquisitively, waiting for him to finish his thought.

He fucked you with your legs over his shoulders, while your roommate was at lunch with the rest of the team. Patrick muffled your moans by spilling his own into your mouth. Sweat dribbled off his chest and your nails raked down his back as he thrust into you, over and over and over again. Twenty years of reserved angst and repressed feelings manifested in desperate whimpers and the sound of skin on skin echoing off the chipped taupe walls.

No words, at that moment, needed to be said. He was yin and you were yang. Your friendship began and ended where your bodies met. And it would never be the same.

He told you he loved you after he came, and you reciprocated those feelings. Something was so thrilling about the secret, though. Of people gossiping and speculating about the two of you. Of you both feigning disgust at the idea of fucking your best friend, only to ride him in the back of his car until the windows fogged up, and his chest was red and raw from your desperate scratches.

You loved the thrill. One whole year of sneaking around and nobody had a clue.

One year of pretending to get sick at parties, so Patrick would follow you into the bathroom and eat you out on the bathroom sink until your legs shook, raw from his stubble.

One year of Patrick tugging on the collar of his shirt during a match to signal he wanted you waiting in his car for him afterward. If he won, he made love to you slowly, rocking his hips, so his cock went deep, deep inside. When he lost, he spat on you, and left bruises on your ass that stung the next week as you sat on the metal bleachers.

It was hard to fit twenty years of love and pining into that one year without it bubbling over. At graduation, you and your friends threw your caps into the air and Patrick kissed you. Hands on your waist, tongue in your mouth.

The team gasped. They hadn't known your secret for the past year. But they did know it was only a matter of time.

[formulawolff]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ words of endearment - the grid ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

pairing: female!reader x the grid

summary: the words of endearment or pet names the men of the grid would more than likely call you if you were in a relationship with them! <3

a/n: this isn't anything super serious! just something cute i was thinking of yesterday & decided to write it! :))

max verstappen ➵ liefje - meaning "little dear" in dutch. although you may be the same height as him, maybe even taller, he just thinks that term is so fitting, so you. you're his little dear, whether you like it or not!

sergio "checo" pérez ➵ mi amor - meaning "my love" in spanish. it was one of the first nicknames he ever gave you, and it has just stuck since. however, the meaning of it has become deeper and deeper as your relationship with the driver has progressed. he often uses it in interviews whenever speaking of you, just to keep your name private from the nosy press.

carlos sainz ➵ mi corazón - meaning "my heart" in spanish. you are quite literally everything he has ever wanted in a partner, and you treat him exceptionally well. since you have shown him nothing but love from the start of your relationship, you are the reason he keeps going. you keep him motivated to keep breathing, so that's how you got the loving nickname.

charles leclerc ➵ love of my life - you could quite literally ask anyone who charles loves the most, and their answer would be you. that man adores you more than he loves racing, more than leo, and more than his friendships with the other drivers. you are the one thing he loves most, so of course he's going to refer to you as the love of his life.

lando norris ➵ my sunshine - after a tough race one day, you held him in your arms, humming "you are my sunshine" as he fell asleep. ever since that night, he has always lovingly referred to you as "my sunshine", as you light up his dark days.

oscar piastri ➵ honey - the meaning behind this is simple. you're just so sweet like honey, and he cannot get enough of you. even when you're apart, he is craving his little "honey bee."

lewis hamilton ➵ love bug - at first, he used it jokingly, since he thought you "stung" him, injecting him with a love spell. however, over time, it is the nickname he has used it the most frequently. he uses it all of the time: in interviews, across social media, and at the paddock. you will forever be his little love bug.

george russell ➵ darling - this was another one used jokingly, but over time, it really grew on him. you were making fun of his british lingo and accent one day, and so he jokingly stated, "well if you don't like it darling, then you can leave!" yet, it grew on you too, the two of you using it for inside jokes, but for other occasions as well.

daniel ricciardo ➵ my sweet southern belle - he likes to use this one with an exaggerated accent. we all know how much daniel loves the south, so it was just perfect he used it one day with you. also, he likes to think you're a little innocent. (but that could be further from the truth, and he knows it)

yuki tsunoda ➵ my cutie - he just thinks everything you do is so so cute. he can't get enough of your contagious energy, and your presence. additionally, he uses the term whenever he addresses you on social media, which has the fans going wildddd at how pure his love is for you.

pierre gasly ➵ ma moitié - meaning "my other half" in french. he likes to think of it more as "my better half" whenever he uses it. after all, you bring out the best in him. no matter his mood, the occasion, or the location. you are just his person, and he wants you to know that.

esteban ocon ➵ mon cœur - meaning "my heart" in french. you are this man's everything. his sun, his moon, his stars. his entire world. he would be so lost without all of your continuous support and love.

fernando alonso ➵ bebé - meaning "baby" in spanish. although you get mami quite often, he uses the latter because you are his baby. no one else could ever compare to you.

lance stroll ➵ ma belle - meaning "my beautiful" in french. he just thinks you are so breathtaking, and he wants you to know every. single. day. no matter what.

alex albon ➵ sweetheart - not only are you sweet, but you have a good heart. and that is what alex admires most about you, as it shines through in every aspect of your life. so why not combine the two?

logan sargeant ➵ baby girl - look, the man is from florida so i can picture him exaggerating this with a slight southern accent. however, this was a nickname he used from day one, as he did not want you to lose interest or feel like you were unwanted.

kevin magnussen ➵ skat - meaning "treasure" in danish. when you first heard him say it, you were confused, as you thought he was quire literally calling you "shit." however, he made it very clear that you are the one thing in life that he cherishes the most.

nico hülkenberg ➵ engel - meaning "angel" in german. you appeared in his life at a moment where he needed someone most, so he lovingly refers to you as his "little engel." plus, he thinks you just have this warm, inviting light to you that always shines.

valterri bottas ➵ kulta - while the meaning directly translate to "gold" in english, he uses it endearingly as "dear" or "darling." as the english translation suggests, you are so precious to him and he never wants to let you go.

zhou guanyu ➵ beautiful girl - when zhou slid into your dms for the first time, that was the first thing he commented. since then, the nickname has stuck. and no, you never get tired of it. ever.

bonus!

toto wolff ➵ hase - meaning "bunny" in german. if you were to be an animal in his eyes, you would be a bunny. you're oh so cute, oh so cuddly, and well... the two of you may act like rabbits at times (if ya catch my drift)

[berryz-writes]

It's always going to be you

Summary: You and Azriel spend less time with each other and soon it seems he spends more time with Elain- apologising and fluff

Azriel x reader

I watched, holding my breath as Elain let out a small laugh at something Azriel said, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. Did she need to do that? No, she probably didn't. But I let it go because she was getting better now. Her smiles were more frequent and if she found my mate funny then fine. I wouldn't be jealous about it.

Another week later and Elain and Azriel were walking the streets of Velaris. I had paused in my tracks to watch them, their heads bent together talking about something important it seemed. It felt like I hadn't gone shopping with Az in so long let alone have a nice conversation that lasted longer than a minute. They seemed comfortable together. Fine. As long as they were both happy there was no reason for me to jump to conclusions.

It was game night and Elain and Azriel had paired up. Yes, they were playing chess against each other but they chose each other and left me on the side lines, merely part of the audience. I wasn't even give a second glance. "Y/n? Aren't you going to play?" Cassian asked from where he was sat on the sofa, one arm around Nesta the other holding a glass of wine.

I shook my head "I'm tired. Maybe next time" I turned to look back at Azriel because like usual I was drawn to him. It seemed he was unaffected by our bond now because he hadn't even looked at me once throughout the entire day. The longer I stared the harder it was to fight back tears. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to leave, Nesta being the only one who listened to my made up excuse. I walked out the house and rubbed my hands together, my feet taking me to the bench I had sat on so many times. Luckily I was smart enough to grab hold of a thick shawl before leaving. The Sidra was as beautiful as always, lights glowing around the area, Fae spilling out of different bars across the street.

I pulled the shawl closer to me and tried to enjoy the sight in front of me rather than my mind going back to things I didn't want to think about.

Where are you?

Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Sweetheart please. Are you allright?

Azriel's voice, panicked and full of fear in my mind. The spiteful thing to do would be to ignore him and build a barrier between the both of us but because I was never able to see or hear Azriel worry for so long I replied with

I'm fine

I went home for the night, enjoy yourself

I blocked him out. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

Of course if someone asked if I still loved him I would have replied with a "yes" in a heartbeat. Maybe we just needed space. Or maybe I was being dramatic. It's not as if I had walked in on them kissing or something.

"Fancy seeing you here, y/n" Someone said. I had to blink away my sleepiness and try and find the source of the voice. It was Keller. A friend who I usually had lunch with when I was in town or needed someone to help me translate a piece of text.

I gave him a warm smile, his blonde almost silver hair shining in the street lamps.

"Is there a seat free?" He gestured next to me at the empty bench but before I could answer a loud thud was heard behind me and without having to turn around I could tell who it was. He must have hidden his scent because otherwise I would have known he was coming this way earlier.

"Apologies, but the seats taken. You should get going now" Azriel's voice was tight and full of anger, one wrong answer from Keller would result in things that were too gruesome too think of.

Still, he hesitated, looking between me and Azriel who was behind me and probably sending daggers at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night" I gave him an awkward smile, trying to reassure him.

"Right. Enjoy your time." And with a nod "Shadowsinger" He walked away soon disappearing behind a corner. I didn't bother turning around and instead waited for Azriel to show himself. His footsteps were light as his form came into view, blocking the scene of the Sidra. He stood there for a good minute or so evaluating every inch of me with his piercing eyes. His shadows moved away from him, coming to brush against me as if they were checking if I was ok as well.

"Are you all right? Your not hurt are you?" His voice was soft, a great contrast to the tone he was using with Keller a second ago.

I sighed "Physically, yes"

He took this as a chance to sit down next to me, making sure there was a small distance between us. As if he wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't sure either. I wanted space but I also wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright.

"I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been taken. I thought I wouldn't see you again" Azriel's voice was quiet and almost broken in a way. I turned to look at him, to see if he was the same Azriel as a few weeks ago.

"What's happened to us?" I asked. I didn't know either but there was one thing I knew and that was something had changed.

As soon as the words escaped me, Azriel froze. His breathing coming to a stop and his eyes focused completely on me and my breathing. For the first time in my life I heard him stumble over his words "what...what do you mean?" He asked, his voice so quiet and full of worry. His shadows paused their constant movement around me and froze as well, their touch now cold.

I wrapped my arms around me, the shawl suddenly not doing much to block the cold out properly "Don't you feel as if we've grown apart? Like...maybe we aren't as close as we used to be?"

I couldn't look at him while saying that. Instead I let my head fall back so I could look at the comforting sight of the stars. Something that was always there. I felt a slight shift to my right where Azriel moved closer to me, his wings coming to wrap around me.

I looked at him, opening my mouth to thank him for the warmth but before I could say anything his shaky voice interrupted me "I love you. I will always love you. I am so sorry you felt as if I wasn't giving you enough time. I know you deserve more than I could ever-"

I put my hand up to stop him "It's not about that. It's about you always being with Elain. Tell me, Azriel. How long has it been since we've been shopping together? How long has it been since you've come home when I'm not asleep because it's the middle of the night? How long will this go on? This back and forth of me waiting for you while you go off with Elain doing who knows what"

I felt his heart beat increase with every word I said and as I let it all out I felt full of guilt. I was being irrational and dramatic. And Azriel didn't deserve it. We had been through so much and I was complaining about him not spending time with me

"sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...got carried away" I looked away from him. He looked heartbroken and I had done that to him.

A silent minute passed before Azriel broke it by picking me up and winnowing us to his room

"what? what are you doing?" I asked, disoriented from the winnowing. I sat on his bed, trying to get used to the soft lighting in his room.

He sat next to me and held my hands in his, warmth seeping through me "I could never cheat on you, sweetheart. I'd rather shred my wings than hurt you. You understand that...don't you? There is nothing between me and Elain and there never will be. I'm sorry you felt that way" He pressed a kiss to my hand, his eyes golden in the light. The way he looked at me made me think, how could I have doubted him?

"I know you aren't cheating. Of course I know that but why does it feel like you spend more time with her than me?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer. Maybe it's because I've become boring now after all these years.

"My love, your the one who told me to help her. You told me spend time with her because she seemed to like my company. I did it for you, sweetheart. Don't you think I'd rather spend my time with my beautiful mate?"

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's always going to be you."

I leaned into his comforting warmth and let my doubts and fears wash away. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Az"

"you had every right to" He mumbled back, his arms now encircling me completely. I felt safe and wanted in his arms, like nothing could ever go wrong.

(KEEP IN MIND I LOVE ELAIN EVERYONE. my personal opinion is she should end up with lucien)- as usual not proof read

MASTERLIST

[ninibeingdelulu]

His empress ✧

Plot: Because of Michael’s busy life, he barely have any time for you.

A/N: Loved Kaiser from day one , like he’s literally my bf. Also, I made him a little poetic so idk if it’s good😓.

The apartment doorslammed with enough force to rattle the windows. Michael stormed inside, cleats leaving muddy tracks across the hardwood in his wake.

His sharply angled features were locked in a ferocious scowl, blue eyes blazing with frustration. Another grueling training had pushed his limits to the brink once more.

You glanced up from the kitchen, unable to mask your wince at the unrepentant mess he left behind.

"Welcome home," you ventured in a measured tone, knowing his volatile moods all too well.

Michael barely acknowledged you. Instead he ripped off his muddied jersey in an angry flourish and hurled it aside, seeking to strip away the stench of another dissatisfying day.

Your eyes followed his toned form from behind the marble island as he stomped towards the bathroom. His shoulder muscles were knotted ropes of tension beneath that porcelaine skin.

You knew it was intentional, feeling your steady gaze tracking him like a hunting falcon.

That was just Michael's way - everything was a crucible, an excuse to exude that overwhelming dominance he so craved.

But today the display did little to spur your usual fluttering admiration. A different rawness simmered in your chest as you watched him disappear into the bathroom without a backwards glance.

The spray of running water filled the strained silence in Michael's wake. You stood there motionless, mulling over the painful sting festering deeper each day.

Though his ferocious commitment to training and perfecting his craft was legendary, lately it had consumed him to an almost alienating degree. Including from you.

How long had it been since you last shared an intimate moment together?

Or even heard that cocksure voice murmur sweet maddening praises that used to set you aflame from the inside out?

Those precious instances had dwindled to near non-existence as Michael became more obsessed, more distant, more...unseeing of the person he'd once crowned his devoted empress.

The bathroom door creaked open, steam billowing out with Michael's emergence in fresh sweats. Without forethought, the question slipped from your lips in a dull murmur.

"Do you even care about me anymore?"

His hand paused where he scrubbed the towel through those signature bedhead spikes. Sea-glass eyes flicked over to pin you with an owlish blink.

"What?"

You swallowed, turning to face him fully now that his defenses were stripped bare.

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me at all... or if I was just another passing conquest for the 'great emperor' to claim and discard."

The words hung in the air with damning finality.

Michael froze, hands falling away from his blonde and blue hair. For several beats his expression was unreadable, marbled handsomeness set in an impenetrable mask.

Then his sculpted brows slashed downwards in undisguised hurt.

You shrank back instinctively when he stalked towards you with quickened strides, expecting more flaring tempers to clash.

But instead of the storm you braced for, gentle calloused palms cradled your face with trembling reverence.

Michael searched your gaze with those kaleidoscope depths, as if reacquainting himself with the woman he'd unforgivably taken for granted.

"You..." he started roughly before clearing his throat. "Never think that, liebe. Not even for a moment."

A shuddery inhale filled Michael's broad chest as one hand drifted down to splay over your thundering heart. His touch was feather-light, worshipful in its tenderness.

"You are the single greatest treasure I've ever had the honor of possessing, my shining star among the world's dim masses. More divine than any earthly jewel or victory on the pitch."

You felt your breath hitch at the unbridled ardor shining through those captivating blue eyes. Michael's voice dropped to an intimate baritone murmur that caressed over you like velvet.

"I am an arrogant, obsessive fool in so many ways - but my absolute worship of you is one truth I'll never stray from. You make me an emperor worthy of respect, make me burn with desire to prove my worth to stand at your side.I-"

He cut himself, his thumb brushing over the plump swell of your bottom lip reverently.

"It is my gravest sin to ever make you question how utterly you reign over my soul, meine liebe. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant these last weeks, I just had a lot in mind with the upcoming games. Forgive me if I made you feel l didn’t care about you."

You were rendered utterly speechless at the searing depth behind Michael's heartfelt confession.

A powerful tremor rippled down your frame, threatening to melt you into an incoherent puddle.

Before you could trust yourself to speak, he sealed his words with a ravaging kiss that blazed away any remaining traces of doubt.

His hands tangled in your hair, keeping you molded flush to his solid frame as if you were the single tether anchoring him to this world.

When the need for air finally parted your joined mouths, Michael bored his eyes into yours with hypnotic intensity.

A familiar smolder flickered to life in their whirling depths - a predatory allure reserved only for his empress.

"Tonight," he rasped against your swollen lips, "allow me to worship you again and again, until the nights where you felt alone disappear from your mind, mein juwel..."

[papaya-twinks]

Kikaaaa im really in love with your writing 😭✊🏻

Could I please ask for a Lando short fic?

I was thinking about something in the scenario where the reader is a currently Redbull driver, but has known and been an opponent of Lando since the karting days. Despite them being rivals, they don't hate each other and are always making jokes with each other, about something that went wrong in the race or about the strategies the team made for them etc.

On this specific day the reader was a little more upset with her result in the race and when Lando comes to make a joke about it she gets really angry and Lando doesn't understand. The discussion ends up turning into provocations about the reader's sex life and they end up in bed, to relieve the sexual tension they built up during the day.

I would be forever grateful if you wrote something about this 🫶🏻✨

Warnings: Angst, smut, 18+, sexual tension, praise

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - chat this request just jumped the queue of my other 12 because oh my word, I’ve never read a request that makes me feel so good. LIKE CHAT??? First and last lines had me in love <3 it’s not short coz I can’t make it short with all the detail

“That’s P2, well done Y/N,” your engineer said on the radio as you smiled. “Who’s third?” you were already aware your team mate, Max, would be first. “Norris in third,”. Your smile grew even more - though you’d been competing against Lando from a very young age, but the bond between the two of you was unbreakable. Not as in friends, you were friends, but not close. 

You drove into the pits, thanking the team as usual as you drove into your second place spot, seeing the orange car on the other side of the Max’s. “Nice job, Y/N,” Max shook your hand as you stepped out the car. “Cheers,”. You were distracted by the voice of Lando, waving to you from where his team were standing. “Nice one Y/L/N,” he said, lock-in your sides as you avoided his finger. 

“Thanks, Norris,” you said, emphasising his surname, as he sighed, “another result ahead of me,” he sighed dramatically. “Can’t help I’m just better,” you shrugged as Lando rolled his eyes, watching you take the microphone for the interview, poking your tongue out at him. That’s how your friendship worked - constant teasing between each other. 

“For fucks’ sake,” you groaned, watching as the cars raced past you, the smoke fogging from your engine. You’d been so close to winning the Grand Prix and there it went, an engine failure, wow. “Y/N, retire the car, please,” your engineer said. “Fuck!��� you groaned, pulling into the pit lane, driving into the garage. You’d been on a streak of getting podiums since the start of the season, and now, there it went, your win and your podium. 

You stayed in the garage to watch the race, Max in first, followed by Lando, then Oscar. “C’mon,” one of the engineers tugged your arm to stand under the podium and watch the celebrations. “Bad luck, Y/N, sorry,” Max said, shaking your hand as you nodded. And then, Lando came. “Aww, someone crashed?” he raised an eyebrow. Usually, you’d be okay with it, but being so close to a race win?

It hurt. “Well fuck you,” you put on a sarcastic smile, ignoring the hand he’d put out to shake. “Alright then,” he held his hands up in mock surrender, “someone’s in a mood,”. You rolled your eyes at his words, turning, ignoring him pointedly, and watching the podium. As you walked back of the garage, to mull over your result and what you did wrong (even though you did nothing), you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“Y/N,” a voice said, stern and cold, from behind you. You turned around, raising an eyebrow to Lando. He was covered in champagne, his eyes half narrowed. “I thought I said fuck off,” you said, without really thinking about it, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? Well I don’t wanna,” Lando said, making you stop where you were walking. 

“What do you want, Lando?” you paused. “To know why you’re having a goddamn tantrum over one DNF?”. That made you scoff, he clearly didn’t understand how you felt. “Lando, I was so close to a win, and it wasn’t even my fault!” you snapped, crossing your arms. “Guess you and your engine have something in common, you both blow up at random fucking points!” his tone was harsh and disgusted. 

“Cheers, Lando,” you scoffed, turning away. “Why did you have to yell at me? We make jokes like that every time. You did last time, too!” he snapped, his price way too high than to just accept it. You said nothing, watching his outburst. “Oh yeah, sorry I interrupted your little eye fucking session with Max,” Lando spoke sarcastically, making your ears perk up. 

“Excuse me?” you snapped, hands on your hips. “Oh, so you reply when Max is involved? Yeah, Y/N, all you two do is eye fuck in the cool-down room, I hate being there with you lot,” he said, venom in his voice as you paused. “Seriously, Lando? You sound desperate,” you laughed sarcastically. “Desperate? Really?” he snorted, “You’re out here looking like the desperate slut with those ridiculous little puppy eyes you pull on him,”. 

You’d never heard anything to stupid, but your attention focused on one word. “A slut? Really?” you scoffed, “You go round fucking whatever girl looks remotely pretty, every single decently attractive girl will end up in your bed for one night, then they’ll be out,” you spat. “You’re such a prude, god, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes, “and ‘every’ attractive girl?” he laughed at your words, the disgust poorly concealed. 

“Good job, your ears word,” you jeered, flicking your hair back over his shoulder. “You know that’s not true, Y/N,” he raised his eyebrow. His tone changed momentarily, but it went back to normal. “What?” you asked, bemused at his words. “Haven’t seen you in there, so it’s not every attractive girl, is it?” Lando’s words were quiet, but carried a certain level of power. 

You brushed off his comment, not wanting to give it anymore attention than it deserved. “Your point?” you asked, eyebrow raised at his words. “My point is that I’m not the whore, you are,”. Shaking your head, you turned back away from him, walking towards your motor home. “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk off?” he scoffed, following you into the room. 

Lando had never been in my room, before, we didn’t maintain that kind of friendship. It was a surprise to me as well as Jim, but I said nothing. “You’re not getting me in your bed, Norris,” you shrugged, taking your Red Bull hat off, along with your coat. “You’re the one undressing,” Lando commented under his breath. “I’m hot,” you said, like it was obvious, which it was, the heat of Spain hitting hard. 

“I know you’re hot,” he said, eyebrow raised as his eyes roamed over your body, lingering on your chest. His comments were getting really flirtatious now. “What are you trying to do?” you turned to him, a suspicious look on your face. You watched as he stood a step forwards, a few inches away from you. “Nothing,” Lando took another step forwards, your body pressing against the door. 

“Did you know,” he said, eyes dropping momentarily to your chest, “sex is good for stress?”. You did know that, obviously. “You look stressed,” he pointed out, making you pause. “D’you want me to get Max?” he cooed innocently. “Wow, Norris, I don’t know if you’re just stupid, but you’re not Max,” you rolled your eyes, “I don’t want Max,”.

“Right, so what driver then?’ Lando scoffed, his face centimetres from yours. “Oh, I dunno,” you said sarcastically, maybe you?”. The way he froze made a smirk flicker onto your face before it fell as he leaned forwards. “You want me?” he asked slowly, blinking at you, his eyes wide. “I believe I just said that,” you shrugged, eyes rolling. 

Lando’s lip curled at your eye roll, his face leaning closer to yours. “Better behave or I’m gonna make them roll for another reason,”. Your cheeks flushed at his words, your eyes wide as his lips bit down on the skin of your neck, your eyes wide. “Lando,” you gasped, his hands tugging at your shirt, breaking off of you to take it off. 

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he ran his lips over your jaw as he pulled your baggy trousers down. “Oh fuck,” you moaned as he pushed your knees apart, your legs over his shoulders as he held you against the wall, his tongue against your clothed clit. “Lando,” you mewled, eyes wide as he flicked his tongue, your hand tugging at his curls. 

Lando had been picturing this for so long, his head buried between your legs, licking at your sweet goodness, your hands tugging at his hair. Fuck, if he could see this from third person, he’d cum just like that. You rolled your hips softly against his mouth, his tongue pushed your drenched panties to the side. “Someone desperate?” he pulled back, a whine leaving your lips. 

“Lando,” you tugged at his curls as he looked at you, standing up fully, his body the same height as you, due to how he was carrying you. “You’re gonna be patient for me,” he said, hand running through your hair, “and you’re gonna be good,”. You nodded, eyes wide as he lifted you onto your bed, your legs slung over his shoulders still. 

As he moved you, his finger slid against your wet folds, his thumb toying at your clit, as he pulled inside of you. “Lando, fuck!” you moaned, eyes wide before squeezing shut, your hand instinctively tugging at the waist band of his joggers. “Someone’s needy,” he commented, letting you take his joggers down, his cock springing against his abdomen. 

His other hand wrapped around yours, pumping your hand up and down him as he groaned, your body squirming from his fingers. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Lando smirked, your back arching for a second as you wriggled, his fingers pumping in and out, fully. “Open,” he said, his large hand on the back of your head, your lips parting a bit. “Really, Y/N?” Lando raised an eyebrow. 

“You know won’t fit,” he commented, hand pumping his own cock as you complied, opening further. Instantly, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat, before he fully pulled out, letting you dictate how far in he went. Your hand pumped the parts of his length that you couldn’t reach, his throbbing head hitting the back of your throat as you gagged, Lando’s other hand with his fingers still deep in you. 

“Fuck,” he pulled you off, he would cum merely at seeing your pretty little mouth struggling with his length. He lifted you onto his lap, lifting your thighs up, so he could align his throbbing dick with your folds. You whispered as he ran his dick through your folds a few times, before pushing into you slowly, your muscles tensing. 

“That’s it,” Lando cooed, one hand holding you up as he sank you down, the other cupping your cheek. “Open,” he said, your mouth falling open instantly. You flinched as he spat into your mouth, pressing his thumb to your tongue as you gagged slightly, resting your body weight on him. Lando turned you over, your body against his, legs round his hips as he slowly pushed into you, and then out again, before he quickened his pace. 

Your mouth fell open at his ever quickening speed, his hips slamming into you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other cupping your breasts as you tightened your arm round his neck, your head on his shoulder. “Lando, fuck feels s’good,” you moaned, body rocking quickly at his rough movements. 

“Been wanting to fuck you for ages,” he groaned, feeling your nails sink into his backs, clawing desperately, as if scratching would give you your orgasm, “look so pretty taking my cock baby,”. You loved the way he spoke, his words dirty, but his tone soft, so opposing to his rough slams. You felt the knot in your stomach building up at his words, your eyes rolling softly. “Told you I’d make them roll,” he smirked, grinning at you, “look pretty like that,” 

The knot in your stomach came undone as you sank your nails into his bare back, his chain dangling on your lips as his hips stuttered, his cheeks flushed red. “Gonna cum in you,” he said gruffly, hips jittering as his slams became messier and messier. “God, fuck,” he groaned, his cum pooling in you, the thick toped ropes hitting your insides as you moaned. “Mmm, fuck me, Lando,” the words came out, not even paying attention to what you were saying. 

“Just did,” he said, sitting up, your body slumped on his. “So fucking tight,” he groaned, holding your body as he pulled out, your pussy clenching round him as he did so. “Fuck, baby, you gotta let me go,” Lando chuckled, pulling you off of him fully. “That’s what you get for a DNF,” he snorted as you watched him, panting from your recent orgasm, “let’s see what happens when you win, love,”.

[mrabubu]

How do you think the turtles from ROTMNT would deal with their feelings if they were in love with someone (be it human, mutant, Yokai, etc.)?

Oh man... Hmmm...

I really hope that wouldn't be a problem if I mostly ramble about Leo (I'M SORRY GUYS THE BLUE TURTLE LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE), and maybe a couple of words about the rest. I'll also be talking about both young and adult Leos, so, here we go.

I'll give short opinions on other turtles before Leo:

Donnie: Would be neglecting his feelings and emotions at first. Even though, in my opinion, he was established as the one prone to romance, I think when he'd actually feel anything towards anyone, he'd be really conflicted, because it's one thing to see this stuff on the TV and all, and another when it's in real life. But once he'll deal with all this mess in his head, he's a real gentleman.

With Raph and Mikey I'm going to refer to @souperwrites words, I hope they don't mind xd

"Mikey is confident and lovey dovey." And I totally agree with it. I feel like he would be the one who'd have the least problems with his feelings.

"Raph is shy but very genuine in his affection but also super nervous because of his size and the potential harm he could cause without meaning to." But honestly, I think my friend @daysofmoron could also give their opinion, since they love the red turtle. xd OKAY, NOW MY BOY LEO.

If start with young Leo, in the show he was always all "EWW!" whenever any sign of romantic love is shown, be it Big Mama and Splinter or Warren and Hypno (at least I remember them being all cuddly, and Leo's was just barfing at them on the background), but I imagine once his own heart goes "doki-doki" for Y/N (let it be Y/N or "you" for now), he's a total mess at first. Remember that episode when they met Jupiter Jim actor, and Leo couldn't even put the syllables together? Yeah, that's him at the start, especially if Y/N doesn't know about his feelings towards them. He'll be trying to impress Y/N but since his emotions are all over the place, he messes up more than usual, maybe even ending up hurting himself (like, he'd try to impress you with his skateboarding skills, but ends up eating concrete because he's too distracted).

And here I'm going to add a bit of my own ideas, because I've been thinking of some scenarios, like, if taking that previous idea with skateboarding, or, more easily, let's take the episode "The Longest Fight" when he fell, I imagine if on the contrary from others you'd actually show any genuine concern about if he's hurt, he'd be like "Oh..." and blushing, because usually his brothers would make fun if him, and here comes in you who doesn't laugh at his failure and worries if he needs help. I think after a moment like this he could begin to feel something.

And with Future Leo HO OHO I have an entire game reference on how I imagine him handling a romance.

First of all, I think as an adult he would be more confident with his feelings if he ever feels anything towards anyone, because, well, he's an adult now, and because when you at war you kinda already went through a lot to be all this blushing mess over feeling butterflies in your stomach.

So, as a reference, whenever I thought of him in a relationship, I though of a romance with Garrus from Mass Effect. I imagine Leo being kinda awkward, trying to make jokes at first that are much more sloppy than usual. Especially if talking about Garrus, I always think of that scene from Mass Effect 2, when he comes into Shepard's room before the final mission, trying to lighten up the mood, flirt and all, but ends up just being an awkward (but adorable) mess, and saying: "I've seen so many things have gone wrong... I want something to go right. Just once. Just..."

And it's just really easy for me to imagine Leo say that. And instead of touching scars you touch his prosthetic.

And also that dialogue with Liara after "The Lair of the Shadow Broker" DLC, when she asks if you fight for giving Garrus some peace, and you say that he's been hurt and deserves something better.

But once Leo's over all the awkwardness and let himself relax, he's just enjoying this new experience with you, having fun.

This scene with Garrus and Shepard trying the "first date" thing which ends up them dancing tango together. With all the teasing and all, I can easily imagine Leo would do something like that.

Honestly, I think that's it? There are more scenes in Mass Effect with Garrus and Shepard where I could easily imagine Leo would do something like that, but it's a lot. If you know, you know, If don't, well, I hope I was able to gave you an idea.

[animasola86]

SMUT DRABBLES*: Tension Relief

A/N: The longest *drabble yet, but still short enough. Just a little smut scene I had to get out of my head. Like always, you can imagine any character here, it's just a man and a woman, no descriptions whatsoever (pics are just to set the mood). Today we'll have a mixture of semi-public and free use, a handjob, fingering and unprotected sex in a public restroom. This works wherever shopping in crowded areas is a thing.

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 1.6k // AO3

He's tense. She can tell by how hard he squeezes her hand as they walk through the crowds around them. Chatter, laughter, crying children, screaming parents alongside different music blasting from different directions, merging into something you can only describe as noise, a typical soundscape on a busy day like this. Maybe shopping has not been the best idea she's had this morning. He's still agreed to come with her.

Under one condition. “When I need you, I'll take you,” he's said with a dark glint in his eyes, and she's nodded, with her stomach twisting in anticipation, that feeling of fear of humiliation, and suspense and excitement of the unknown. He's always rather unpredictable, even in their own home.

And she can't even imagine what he's capable of in public if given the chance to do anything to her. But luckily for her, he's willing to demonstrate.

It's a tug to her wrist, a demanding gesture, as he drags her through the crowds, past overwhelmed parents trying to calm their tense children, past a couple of elderly women looking around in confusion in search of their next destination. He knows exactly where to go, doesn't even look around while she steals nervous glances back over her shoulder as he heads straight for the women's restroom.

The door closes behind her, and he's on her in no time, hands cupping her face, eager lips closing around hers, his warm tongue forcing between them, and she can only grab his wrists for support as he pushes her backwards into an open stall. Her back hits the side wall with a thud at the same time as he slams the door shut with his shoe, causing her to gasp, but he only kisses her harder, one hand moving down to her throat, while the other moves down between them.

There's the clink of his belt, the plop of the button, scratch of the zipper, shifting of fabric, before he grabs her hand and puts it around his hard cock. No wonder he's been so tense. He's swollen, veins bulging against her palm, precum leaking from his tip. She pumps him slowly, and he growls into her mouth, squeezing her throat, urging her on. Her other hand finds his girth, and she strokes him in twisting motions, moving his hot skin over his hardened core, up and down, fist around his tip, fingers massaging his tight balls.

His hand slips under her dress, hot and heavy and urgent, finds the hem of her panties, pushes it aside, his fingers swiping through her folds. She's not nearly as ready as he is, but he doesn't care. Gives her clit a few pinches, rubs through her slit until he's content with the slick gathering between her thighs. She's breathing hard against his lips as he leans back a little, forehead pressed to hers, eyes dark, pupils dilated in hunger.

She squeaks quietly when he pushes a finger into her heat, deep and rough, working his way into her, then adds another, stretches her more. She's grateful for the preparation, no matter how little it is. There's the unmistakable noise of wetness squelching between fingers, and she shivers, her legs trembling.

Up until now she's been too preoccupied with stroking his cock and kissing him, pinned to the wall, save against his body, but then the door to the restroom opens, and a couple of chatting women enters, quickly moving into the stalls left and right of them.

While she freezes in her movements, eyes wide before they move towards the little gap between the door and wall of the stall they're in, hoping he's at least locked it, he keeps fingering her, almost as if he wants those other people to hear how wet she is, how wet he makes her. The hand on her throat pushes up to lift her chin, and she looks at him, holding her breath, while he smirks at her, eyes darker than usual.

He coaxes a little gasp out of her when he dips his fingers as deep as his knuckles allow, making her thighs twitch as he curls them inside her, scraping over that sensitive spot. She presses her lips into a thin line, panting through her nose. The women beside them flush at almost the same time, and he uses the noise (and she's thankful he does) to let go of her, then grab her hips instead and whirl her around until she has to brace herself on the toilet seat, bent forwards, while he flips the skirt of her dress up and pushes her panties down her legs.

Meaningless chatter fills the small room as the women wash their hands, and as they do, he steps closer and guides his hard cock towards her entrance. She bites her lip, forcing herself to remain quiet, but when he pushes in with one swift roll of his hips, a croaking squeak escapes her, and to her utter horror, the women pause mid-conversation. He's quick to move and leans over her to put his fingers between her lips to silence her, his palm cupping her chin to hold her in place.

She tastes herself as he pushes his rough fingertips onto her tongue while simultaneously pushing his length deeper into her tight warmth. Her body shudders under the stimulation, her arms shaking badly beneath her, fingers curling around the lid of the seat. She barely notices the women finally leaving, but once the door falls shut behind them, he really starts to move – and that, she notices.

The hand on her mouth pulls her back against him, spine arched as he presses her shoulder into his chest, fingers slipping deeper, teasing at the back of her throat, while his other hand is flat on her stomach, holding her against him, as he snaps his hips into her with reckless abandon. No easing into it, no gentle rolls, just rapid pounding, needy rutting, impaling her, filling her, using her.

She grabs his wrist, trying to hold onto him as her legs become weaker and weaker, his relentless assault quickly overwhelming her as pleasure mixes with pain and swirls inside her head like a strange kind of vertigo. In and out he goes, body slamming into hers, strong thighs bracing behind her, her hands clawing at him desperately. She moans against his fingers, and he pushes them deeper until she has to gag around them, spit filling her mouth, body convulsing uncontrollably, cunt clenching around his thick cock, and he groans in her ear, folding them over until she has to brace herself on the toilet seat again.

He lets go of her mouth, strands of saliva trailing from her lips to his fingers before they snap when he puts his hands on her hips, digits digging into soft flesh, and keeps rutting into her like a feral dog. Her arms give way, and she sinks lower, leaning on her forearms on the lid, teeth gritted before she bites down onto her wrist to keep her noises down. Knees shaking, legs spread as wide as her panties around her ankles allow, as he slams into her over and over again.

She's succumbing to the sensations, but she still hears the quiet noise of other people entering the restroom. Somehow she couldn't care less, and he doesn't seem to either as he keeps pounding into her, skin slapping against skin, her wetness squelching out of her with every deep plunge. Her muffled moans are quiet but there, as are his low little grunts.

The door of a stall to their right is being closed, lid opened with a thud, and it's that moment as he pulls her hips to him to sink in as far as possible, burying himself balls deep inside her before he comes with a suppressed little groan, arms wrapping around her waist as he holds onto her. She can feel him twitching and throbbing inside her, her own muscles contracting, squeezing him, milking him of every drop as he paints her insides with his hot seed.

She buries her face in her arms, grateful he's holding her up as her legs give way. Her chest aches, stomach still tense, squeezed by his tight grip. Head spinning, barely registering anything but him behind her, inside her, filling her up with every twitch of his balls. A flush next to them, footsteps, water running. She doesn't care.

He holds her for a few more moments, panting into her ear as he leans over her, his hot breath fanning over her cheek as she turns her head slightly. She feels him relaxing against her, and eventually he leans back, hands holding her waist as he pulls out of her clenching cunt. Something warm and sticky drips down between her legs, and his hands leave her when he bends down and pulls her panties back up.

Helping her upright again, he turns her around, cups her flushed cheek and smiles down at her. She looks at him out of hooded eyes, still feeling his rapid thrusts shuddering through her body like an echo. With every clench of her muscles, more of his cum seeps out of her and into her already soaked underwear. While she tries to get her bearings, he fixes her dress, puts his spent cock back into his pants, and leans down to kiss her softly, wiping at the spit still caked to her chin.

And as if nothing happened, he grabs her hand, unlocks the door and leaves the restroom with her, sinking back into the anonymous crowd, into the soundscape of a busy day, his hand loose around hers, relaxed and tension-free, while her knees are shaking and the dampness between her thighs threatens to spill past the hem of her panties and down her leg.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A steamy shower

Toy

Car Inspection

Sleepy

[f1-jay]

Relax - Jenson Button

Pairing: TeamPrincipal!Jenson x FemDriver!Reader

Summary: Jenson helps the reader relax after a bad result.

Warnings: MDNI - Smut (P in V), sex in the workplace, Age Gap

Words: 1.8k

The race didn’t go as well as you had hoped, especially after qualifying in 2nd and ending up in 8th, putting you from first to third in the championship. You went through the media pen, then had a debrief with the team. There was positive energy, and the team was still happy with the result; you got four points and your teammate got twelve. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You went into a small office area and really tried to determine where you went wrong.

The bright light from the sunset was streaming in through the window and into your line of sight. You closed the blind and continued analysing the footage. You can see the door open from the corner of your eye, and look up to see your team principal, Jenson Button. When you make eye contact with him, he tilts his head slightly. You pause the video.

“Yes? Can I help you?” You ask, even though you were pretty sure you knew what was going to come out of his mouth. The look on his face gave it away.

“I know you’re not pleased with your results, but that doesn’t mean you need to do this. We went through it in the debrief; you drove great; an unfortunate-timed safety car isn’t your fault.” He reminds you with a gentle smile as he comes in and closes the door.

“I know, but I was 6th after the safety car, then I proceeded to lose two more places, so I still want to see what I could’ve done better.” You say it with a shrug of the shoulders. Jenson leans against the desk next to you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You did the best you could. No one’s disappointed in the result but you” he says reassuringly. He reaches out and takes the device from your hands. “You need to take a break. We’re headed straight into another race week; I would rather you prepare for that than stress about this.” You hold your hand out, wanting him to give the device back.

“Just 10 more minutes." You negotiate, but he shakes his head and places the tablet on the far corner of the table, out of your reach.

“No, I’ve seen you on a weekend like this before. Ten minutes will become one hour.” You know it’s true and figure that there is no point in arguing, so you put your hands up in surrender and agree to not do any more. “You put in some of the most intense hard work and preparation I’ve ever seen; you need to not push so hard sometimes. In the end, it won’t do you any good."

“That sounds a little hypocritical,” you say with a slightly confused look on your face. “Weren’t you like this back in the day?”

"Yeah, and that’s why I’m telling you to slow down.” He admits “Plus, Id hate to see you go grey early," bringing a lighter mood to the conversation.

“I think I’ll leave the whole ‘going grey’ thing to you for now.” You gesture at him.

“That sounded a bit judgy, I happen to look good with grey, thank you.”

“I never said it didn’t look good?” You place a hand on your chest as you defend yourself.

“Oh? So you think I look good?” a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He always had a natural flirtyness with the way he spoke.

“Shut up.” You laugh and shake your head at him. Your response caused him to chuckle softly.

“You can’t deny it. You think I’m attractive.” He teased

“That would be a little scandalous, no? Telling my boss that he is attractive” You lean back in your chair and fiddle with your fingers. Jenson looks at you amused; his eyes still fixed on you.

“I’d describe it more like…thrilling”

“Is that right?” You question. The conversation felt like it could be heading into dangerous territory, but with a man like Jenson in front of you, what else were you meant to do. You knew it was wrong; it was your boss, but it was also the man you’ve been crushing on for a few years. He leans down slightly.

“You sound intrigued.” His voice was a little deeper than before.

“I shouldn’t be.” You don’t want to be too forward, hoping that he leads the conversation if he wants to go in that direction.

“But you are, aren’t you?” His hands come down to both arm rests, caging you in, as he gazes down at you. You slowly nodded in response and confirmed what he said. He leans even closer, your noses almost touching. His eyes linger on your lips for a few seconds before meeting your eyes again. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t think I can say. It’s not very work-friendly.” You can feel the warmth of his breath as he chuckles.

“What we do after work isn’t really anybody’s business but our own.” I look to the side and gesture outward.

“We’re still in the workplace.”

“The door is locked. The blinds are shut. Nobody is going to walk in on us or see.” His eyebrow slightly arches, as if he’s challenging you to go ahead and do something. You grab his jaw, pulling him forward to kiss him. He lets out a surprised hum, then closes his eyes as he eagerly kisses you back. His hands move from the chair to your waist, pulling you up from your seat so that your bodies are against each other. He slightly turns and takes a step, so your butt is against the table. He lifts you up to sit on top of it and stands between your legs as he continues to kiss you. Jenson’s hands move down to your hips as he deepens the kiss. His tongue runs against your bottom lip, you adhere and open your mouth slightly, and one of his hands makes its way to your hair. He slowly breaks the kiss and starts trailing his lips along your jawline and down your neck.

“Sir” you softly breathe out. He pulls back a little and looks at you with a grin. He leans in by your ear.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His lips hover over your skin.

“I need to know if we are going to go all the way.”

“Do you want to?” He asks, looking into your eyes again, and you nod. His eyes darkened slightly. “Are you sure?” He wants to make sure you are certain before you go any further.

“Yes, Jenson” His eyes roam over your face, searching for any hesitation. When he finds none, he kisses you again, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants. He works on getting them off, and they fall down to your ankles while you untuck his shirt and fiddle with the buttons. His thumb circles your clit over your panties for a moment until he can feel wetness on the pad of his finger. He pulls them down, and his fingers run through your pussy.

“I’d love to take this slow, but it’s only a matter of time before someone interrupts.” He pulls his pants and underwear down and holds his hand out under your mouth, telling you to spit. When you do, he begins to stroke his cock. His other hand goes to your shoulder, guiding you to lay down. He slides the tip through your folds before pushing it in; you can’t help the small gasp that comes from you. Inch by inch, he slides to rest in, and the slight stretch feels heavenly. You try to keep your voice down as you tell him how good he feels. He keeps hold of your hips as he builds rhythm, and you are forced to bite your lip to contain noise.

Honestly, it had been a little while since you had sex, mostly because you could imagine the things that the media would say if they found out, you would get torn to shreds just because you’re a girl. The desk beneath you creaks every so often, which reminds you where you are. Then the doorknob rattles. You both tense up a little, and Jenson stills inside of you for a single second.

“Who is it?” He calls out; it’s one of the engineers wanting to talk to him. Your pussy clenches around him, causing his attention back to you. He starts thrusting again, slow but hard. “Y/n and I are having an important conversation.” His voice was strained. “We need some time.” My nails dig into your back, and my hand comes up to my mouth as you speed up. His eyes close as a soft grunt leaves his lips. Once the guy acknowledged that and walked away, you asked him to go faster again, and he did. His hand comes to your mouth, moving yours away and covering it himself. “You need to be quiet, sweetheart. Can’t have anyone hearing us.”

“Sorry” you mumble into his hand. An amused grin is on his face at your apology, and his hand squeezes a little tighter, being sure to muffle any noise. Your back arches and you grab his hand that’s silencing you, gripping onto it. Your actions spur him on, and as he looks down at you with desire, his movements become more intense.

“That’s it. Come on.” His voice is low and almost rough. Your hand that’s on his back slides across to his bicep, and you tap a couple of times, trying to tell him you’re getting close. He’s also starting to feel the same way, with the same tension building in him. “Let me have it, sweet girl.” That’s enough to have your high hit you. Jenson feels your body shiver beneath him, and it pushes him to his finish. He keeps grinding softly as you ride out your releases. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was ragged breathing.

He pulls out and leans on the desk, then looks down at you lying on the desk. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from your face; his eyes roam over your flushed skin.

“You okay there?”

“Mmm, I’m great." You open your eyes to look at him. He smiles at you and slowly pulls you up into a sitting position, his hands on your hips to keep you there.

“You certainly look great." His words make you shake your head and giggle.

“I hate you” You say as you look away from him, almost nervous to make eye contact.

“You seemed to think I was pretty great a few minutes ago.” He gently turns you back to look at him and cocks his eyebrow.

“Well, we might have to do it again soon for me to actually confirm if it was any good.”

“Is that so?” He leans down to kiss your lips. “I think that can be arranged.”

[ghettogirly]

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒!

authors note: please reblog and like so others can see! Hope you enjoy!!

[🕷️] 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄:

🕷️ - He would be very keen on spending time together one on one especially during his time in the cartel where it’s unknown if there will be another tomorrow.

🕷️- I think he would love staying inside his villa with you and enjoying a nice home meal while watching a movie.

🕷️- He would love giving you self defence lessons and training you in the gym, especially since that’s his element. This man would have a whole training and diet plan already made for you.

🕷️- Armando would try take you out every now and then, maybe to go shopping or for a nice dinner just to give you a feeling of a relatively normal life. He wouldn’t do this often though, probably only doing this for anniversaries as he wouldn’t want to place you in any danger.

🕷️- He would enjoy coming back home after some business he had to handle whether that was securing a deal or carrying out an execution, to see you sleeping in your shared bed. This would give him a sense of security and also spend some quality time of sleeping together.

[🕷️] 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇:

🕷️- He would not be someone to do public display of affection. The thought of someone seeing him be vulnerable with you would probably cause trouble.

🕷️- The only display of affection he would do would be longing stares at you if you walk past him, sneaky winks or he would hold your fingertips as you talk to him, making sure to hold eye contact with you.

🕷️- It would be a struggle at first to make him initiate affection as he grew up without parents. An incarcerated mother and a dad he grew up to hate? A whole lot of issues.

🕷️- However, he would eventually warm up to the idea.

🕷️-Behind closed doors, he would love wrapping his arms around you and hugging you as it gives him the satisfaction of protecting you.

🕷️- He would also love giving you slow, passionate kisses. (depending on his mood) The type to make you and him both, longing for more.

🕷️- however if he’s angry, you already know he’s going to be grabbing your face and forcing you into a heated, passionate kiss. His hands exploring your body as he releases his frustrations.

[🕷️] 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

🕷️- He would openly compliment your superficial things such as your clothes, hair or makeup.

🕷️- However, getting something beneath the surface level for him would be tough.

🕷️- He’s overly critical and cynical of the world, believing evil things happen to everyone and that you never really know someone’s true self.

🕷️- However, his perception quickly changed when he met you.

🕷️- You showed him something different, a breath of fresh air. He loved the way you carried yourself, holding yourself with grace but not hesitant to assert yourself.

🕷️- One day he would say, “I really admire your character baby.”

🕷️- You would look at him in shock, not hearing those words before and quite frankly caught off guard at his sensitive words. Nevertheless you would smile and reply, “I learnt it all from you.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

🕷️- This wouldn’t really be a big one for him.

🕷️- I believe he would expect you to be able to do things for yourself, he wouldn’t be able to care for you, himself and his cartel as well. He would get frustrated at your lack of ability to be able to care for yourself.

🕷️- However, if you ever get hurt or sick you can bet on it that he’s taking care of you.

🕷️- He wouldn’t let anyone help you, only him.

🕷️- He would change your dressings or help you take your medication. Even bring you soup for your sore throat.

🕷️- He would help clean up around the bedroom and help you do basic tasks again.

🕷️- He has maids for the rest, so what’s the point.

[🕷️] 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆:

🕷️- Armando wouldn’t really get you surprise gifts, he would much prefer to give you money and allow you to buy your own.

🕷️- He would surprise you with an amount of cash and then you can buy what you want.

🕷️- Sometimes he’ll come back with a new necklace for you that has his initials or the name of his cartel, just to let other know that you’re claimed.

🕷️- If it was your birthday, you can bet the whole mansion would be decorated and there would be a private jet awaiting you, ready to take you on a holiday resort.

[anqelbean]

SVSSS finished fic recs

Weeeeeee, I have so many bookmarks, I gotta do something with 'em, hope you enjoy! Most are gonna be BingQiu/Yuan

two lonely souls at sunset by lilacbuddy

Rating: T; Words: 38,049; Main Pairing: BinggeYuan

“Who are you?” Luo Binghe asked coldly. Shen Yuan wanted to bury himself in the dirt. He couldn’t have made a bigger fool of himself. “I- This one is Shen Yuan, Lord Luo,” he hastily responded, dropping into a low bow to properly greet the emperor. Even after seven years in the palace, Shen Yuan still struggled with the formal speech of scholars and nobility. “Shen…” Luo Binghe whispered. Shen Yuan winced. Of course, Luo Binghe wouldn’t know who he was by name alone. “This one is Lord Luo’s fifth husband,” Shen Yuan answered. --- Or, Shen Yuan wants life to feel like an adventure, Luo Bingge wants someone to truly love him, and a magical road-trip will somehow solve both of their problems

The Employee of the Month is Actually a Virgin? by glowingreverie

Rating: G (though I'd argue it's T); Words: 2,993; Main Pairing: Bingqiu

"Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!" parody with Bingqiu. In which Luo Binghe is a sad virgin on his thirtieth birthday and Shen Qingqiu unknowingly makes him fall in love with him.

i'll be your boy backstage by nyoomerr

Rating: M; Words: 8,369; Main Pairing: BinggeYuan

Do obsessions from other worlds form a basis for a healthy relationship? Asking for a friend.

affections touching across time by miss_coverly

Rating: T; Words: 2,616; Main Pairing: BingYuan

At first glance, the most reasonable explanation was that Shen Yuan had transmigrated into some web novel set during the Feudal Era, but a quick pat down of his intact clothes and beating heart had confirmed that he was still alive. Alive—and still in his own body. He earned a lot of stares from villagers, who endlessly muttered about his odd clothes, his odd haircut. One comment always cut above the rest, though, something about looking so much like the old Peak Lord, it’s a bit unnerving. Shen Yuan wasn’t sure what to make of all that, and furthermore, the only thing he found truly unnerving was how Luo Binghe couldn’t stand him. (Inuyasha au)

Proud Immortal Dragon Way by glacierdust

Rating: T; Words: 7,408; Main Pairing: BingYuan

The day Shen Yuan found a dragon on the balcony of his apartment, surrounded by burnt vines and fire roasted tomatoes, was the day his life changed. In other words, the local disaster millennial who can’t even take care of himself adopts an injured dragon.

The Way I Dreamed Of You by straightforwardly

Rating: E; Words: 3,397; Main Pairing: BingQiu

The one in which Without A Cure turns out to have another side-effect as well. Cat ears, ahoy! Or: while trapped inside the Holy Mausoleum, Shen Qingqiu goes into heat.

Top Notes of Violence by zarasu

Rating: T; Words: 3,679; Main Pairing: BingYuan

Luo Binghe has been born with a scent defect; no matter his mood, he always smells aggressive. In a world where everyone relies on their sense of smell, this means Binghe can't catch a break. Until he meets Shen Yuan.

and in dreaming, I know you by PandaFlower

Rating: M; Words: 3,548; Main Pairing: BinggeYuan

Shen Yuan blinked, in the manner of a dreamer being both reeling with shock yet also numb to it. “Well, of course you are!” “Of course I am?” Luo Binghe parroted, arching one of his regal brows. “You’re exceedingly handsome,” Shen Yuan nodded sagely, this whole encounter made sense now, “and Luo Binghe is said to be the most attractive man in existence; naturally you must be him.” (In which Shen Yuan has a very strange dream.)

right from the start, I gave you my heart by nex_et_nox

Rating: T; Words: 11,322; Main Pairing: BingQiu

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible." Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.” "That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you." Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain— “A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.

or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

The Short Way Home by zarasu

Rating: T; Words: 4,008; Main Pairing: BingQiu

After leaving the Abyss and joining Huan Hua Sect, Binghe decides to take a little trip to Qing Jing Peak. He puts his recently learned shape-shifting skills to good use and assumes the form of Ming Fan to just get a little peek at Shizun. What he finds there isn't quite what he expected. Shizun, a grieving widow?

Truly The Best Worst Timing by AceOfDivineChlorophyll

Rating: M; Words: 9,962; Main Pairing: BingQiu

So maybe taking a bath in a plague ridden city late at night after meeting up with your former disciple turned vengeful protagonist out to kill you wasn’t the brightest decision. Mu Qingfang insisted it would help relax him though! And in a way it did… just… after being jump scared by the vengeful protagonist.

Catboy Blues by posthumous_vigor

Rating: E; Words: 11,403; Main Pairing: BingYuan

Shen Qingqiu has a pet cat. The disciples dote on it, jokingly calling it “Shizun” because of the haughty way it carries itself and the green ribbon around its neck. Chief among its admirers is Luo Binghe, who treasures every moment of kindness shown to him. And the cat, with its sharp green eyes and human-like intelligence, is very kind to him. Meanwhile, Shen Yuan has some complicated feelings about being a catboy.

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by Zizzani

Rating: T; Words: 16,274; Main Pairing: MoShang

“If the body can’t warm up, then things get uh, b-bad?” Mobei-jun cuts him a look that’s made for slaughter. “What does that mean?” “A-ah, it’s called hypothermia, my king.” “And you die once it happens.” Again, not a question. “You can.” When Mobei-jun makes an absolutely terrifying face, Shang Qinghua hastens to add, “But not instantly! Y-you can actually recover from it, if the hypothermia doesn’t progress too far.” “How far?” Mobei-jun growls. “There are f-f-f-five stages,” Shang Qinghua shivers out, lips numb. “The fifth stage is death.” - Shang Qinghua and Mobei-jun have their spiritual powers sealed before getting dumped in a white-out snowstorm. Mobei-jun quickly learns that humans are far more susceptible to the cold than he thought.

so you have a bad day by tagteamme

Rating: E; Words: 30,999; Main Pairing: MoShang

Shang Qinghua is not stupid. It does not take a genius to know what it means when you ask a servant where your lord has left to and they readily supply the name of an exclusive brothel in between the two realms. Especially when it's after your utterly disastrous first time together. So he goes away for a bit to clear his head. And promptly gets kidnapped.

it's you I find like a ghost in my mind by nex_et_nox

Rating: M; Words: 20,751; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Luo Binghe doesn’t mean to reach out to Shen Qingqiu. It’s a combination of instinct, the force of habit, and sheer agonized longing that causes him to do it anyway. His physical body is safely ensconced in his rooms at Huan Hua Palace, where he has recently been accepted as a visiting disciple, but his mind— His mind is on Qing Jing Peak. He doesn’t even realize it isn’t one of his own dreams at first.

or: while at Huan Hua, Luo Binghe keeps sharing dreams with his shizun, and it doesn't take long to notice that there is something very, very wrong with Shizun's dreamscape

Immortal Lamb Crusader Way by Mikkeneko

Rating: T; Words: 15,181; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Shen Yuan finds himself transmigrated into the last video game he played before his death -- the dungeon-delving, cult-building anthro hit game of the year, Immortal Lamb Crusader Way. Much to his dismay he finds himself in the role of the BBEG, the God of Death, He Who Waits -- Shen Qingqiu! Is there any way he can guide the protagonist, Luo Binghe, to level-up and victory without falling victim himself to the Lamb Crusader's blade? And why does he want to pet the Lamb's fleecy head so badly? He's not a furry, okay! He's not!

The Black Lotus Lounge by honeylotus

Rating: E; Words: 10,633; Main Pairing: LesBingYuan

“I’m Luo Binghe. This is my place.” Shen Yuan’s eyes widen. Of all the people to take interest in her, ah!

continued by AMereDream

Rating: T; Words: 13,926; Main Pairing: BinggeYuan

> ... and also, you've started reusing old text again. Kudos to you for almost making it six chapters without using the copy/paste button! The way you described Luo Binghe reacting to AU!Shen Qingqiu is almost exactly the same as the way you described the wife of the Pale Moon Arc, Chapter 3425 to be specific. Is it really that hard to come up with another turn of phrase, or are you just that lazy? And furthermore... (Read More) >> O.o what if its deliberate tho... >> "...the same as the way you described the wife..." Uhhh Airplane? That was an accident, right? Airplane?? (or, several weeks after Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had posted what he swore was the last chapter of Proud Immortal Demon Way, a new chapter was uploaded to the site.)

Liquid Truth by zarasu

Rating: T; Words: 5,217; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu have been married for almost four years, and Shen Qingqiu decides it's high time he told his husband his little secret. Binghe doesn't quite react as expected.

Can’t You Just Believe Me? by AceOfDivineChlorophyll

Rating: T; Words: 6,928; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Luo Binghe finally had Shizun where he couldn’t escape, tied up and at his mercy and still the man wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t answer any of his questions and instead kept accusing Binghe of things he didn’t do. Fine, Shizun doesn’t want to talk, Luo Binghe can fix that. He doesn’t want to believe Binghe, he can fix that too. After all, this truth serum was strong enough to work even on Heavenly Demons.

Life is (not) a Hallmark Movie by mellicindi

Rating: T; Words: 143,334; Main Pairing: BingYuan

Shen Yuan isn't lonely. He's just overseas in a new city, trying to muddle his way through a business degree, and dealing with the side effects of his stupid intestines trying to kill him. So, maybe he sometimes watches ASMR to cope with his too-quiet apartment. Maybe he has a little bit of a parasocial-relationship-thing going on with one particular cooking ASMR channel. It's 2016, who doesn't? The point is, he's content with his quiet life. And then Shang Qinghua strong-arms him into watching one Hallmark Christmas movie, and it all goes to hell. Or: Shen Yuan is a Hallmark movie protagonist, Luo Binghe is a Lifetime movie protagonist, and somehow they make it work.

instructions unclear, ghost husband obtained by aksnevv

Rating: T; Words: 25,449; Main Pairing: BingQiu

To make things clear: Shen Qingqiu doesn't believe in ghosts or spirits. At least, he didn’t. But alas, it all started when a strangely suspicious blog posted over ten years prior was read to him on one fateful day. Who knew that just five hundred poorly-typed words written in comic sans on a clearly outdated website would lead to Shen Qingqiu dragging around a living (questionable), handsome (unfairly so) ghost that happens to be the subject of the most notorious urban legend-- following him around like a lovesick puppy, cooking him breakfast and ironing his clothes? Definitely not Shen Qingqiu.

All We Can Do Is Try by corduroyserpent

Rating: G; Words: 2,962; Main Pairing: TianXi

Su Xiyan has no trouble taking deadly poison…it's parenting she's worried about.

How to Catch a Mer-Snake (No Net Required!) by corduroyserpent

Rating: G; Words: 7,522; Main Pairing: GongZhi

Zhuzhi-lang doesn’t get close—wary as he is of strangers—but he does gather the courage to sneak a tiny peek above the waves. He makes sure not to show too much of himself, only the very little needed to see what’s happening.  And what he sees is…well…it's a boy. Slightly older than Luo Binghe, with long dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck.  A human. - Was anyone going to tell Gongyi Xiao there was a whole boyfriend hidden under the ocean or was he just supposed to save a mer-snake's life and find out himself?

a touch of honey by goatpunch

Rating: G; Words: 5,366; Main Pairing: GongZhi

Zhuzhi-lang is trying to make it as a writer, but his life is interrupted by a certain (annoyingly handsome) barista at his favorite coffee spot. It doesn't help when his friends and family seem intent on setting the two of them up.

grow beyond by AMereDream

Rating: T; Words: 5,790; Main Pairing: QiJiu

It all began when Shen Qingqiu brought a baby to the twice-yearly Peak Lord Meeting. Or, perhaps it all started nine months before that, when Shen Qingqiu stumbled upon a very special plant.

some little nothings by tagteamme

Rating: E; Words: 6,986; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Luo Binghe has been acting a little strange. Well— not strange in the traditional sense. He’s not been acting moody, nor has he been acting irritable or rude or secretive. Instead, he’s been… respectful. In the way he talks, in the way he touches, in the distance that he keeps. And the fact that he’s keeping distance to begin with. While Shen Qingqiu theoretically should appreciate the breathing space, in reality it’s been sort of irritating. More than anything, he wants to know why Luo Binghe has stopped properly taking him to bed.

From the Heights by any_open_eye

Rating: E; Words: 9,222; Main Pairing: BingYuan

"Are you here to watch me bathe? That's rude." The dog huffs out a breath, sitting down in front of the bath. Shen Yuan can't resist reaching out to pat it on the head. It really is a handsome beast, once you get over the teeth and the rumbling growls. The strangely intelligent eyes. "Where do you come from, anyway? I've never seen anything like you." The dog licks his fingers. (Shen Yuan finds an injured monster high on the mountain. He brings it home.)

The Dumb Teacher Self-Saving System by Fluffy_Nightmare

Rating: G; Words: 4,263; Main Pairing: BingYuan

Luo Binghe had a hard time reading Shen Yuan. The youth's face appeared to be forged from pure and cold jade, not flesh and blood, as he never showed any emotions. From time to time the peak lord could spot disgust or contempt when the demon-king-to-be looked at him, but nothing beyond that. Shen Qingqiu never smiled, never shed a tear, but it was to be expected. After all, he was a scum protagonist of “The Bloody Path of the Immortal Demon” - a web novel written by a user Frost, the one containing more backstabbing, revenge plans and dead bodies than a history of the last hundred years of humanity. For him to show his weaknesses was unthinkable. Soon, it would change.

Welcome To My Table (Bring Your Hunger) by SpiritOfFox

Rating: M; Words: 50,442; Main Pairing: BingYuan

Shen Yuan died, woke up, then almost died again. Afraid for his life as a demon in the spirit caves of Cang Qiong he runs as far as he could... Only he didn't count on Peak Lord Luo chasing him down. AKA a role-reversal fic where Luo Binghe's secrets have secrets and Shen Yuan is in no way ready to live as a demon in the world of the hit stallion novel he transmigrated into.

the hands by which he fell by airplanelanding (TheCourtSorcerer)

Rating: T; Words: 7,513; Main Pairing: BingQiu

But he didn’t run, and maybe that was more devastating. More devastating, more soul-crushing, more heart-shattering—because he flinched. The moment Luo Binghe lifted a hand to his face, inches from touching him, his shizun, Shen Qingqiu, poised and aloof and composed and fearless Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, flinched. And, oh, if that didn’t hurt. Or Jinlan City but Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe actually talk.

residue of yesterday by el_em_en_oh_pee

Rating: E; Words: 8,928; Main Pairing: LesBingQiu

It took Shen Qingqiu an embarrassingly long time to realize that Luo Binghe was literally there in her dreams. Her first thought was, 'This didn't happen in Proud Immortal Demon Way?!' Her second thought was, 'Luo Binghe's clearly been practicing a lot... and making quite a bit of progress.' Her third thought was, frankly, embarrassing. But as a noted fan/hater of Proud Immortal Demon Way, it was just so cool to see the protagonist acquire new skills! Skills that, when fully blackened, would no doubt lead to Shen Qingqiu's undoing. Whoops.

A Guilty Conscience by Underworld_Melon

Rating: T; Words: 1,882; Main Pairing: BingQiu

“Shizun should know,” Binghe says, smoothly caressing his hair with the bloodied hand and a voice rich like honey, “that this heavenly demon knows ways to find out if one is lying.” or Shen Qingqiu is in the Huan Hua Palace. Binghe reads his mind. It all goes very well.

wonderstruck (blushing all the way home) by sweetdreamers

Rating: T; Words: 10,143; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Luo Binghe wants to combust. His professor should be illegal. Or at least labelled with a warning. Too much exposure to one (1) Shen Qingqiu will cause spontaneous combustion. Approach at your own risk. - or, slytherin!binghe pining after oblivious potions master!shen qingqiu

dirty imbecile by plutoisgay

Rating: E; Words: 11,559; Main Pairing: LesBinggeYuan

Shen Yuan never asked questions when customers came seeking her out, even as they increasingly asked for targeted death spells or life-long, horrid curses. It wasn’t any of her business, and she needn’t get involved with the carriage-wreck that was those revenge plots. Even when she had to etch the same words ‘icy river’ again and again into beautifully carved cutlery and plates and vases, as red-faced women reached her shop in swarms as the months passed by, asking for monstrosity inducing curses, for seals that cause the downfall of kingdoms, for targeted attacks against a woman who had a better life than any of those that slithered their way into Shen Yuan’s business. Shen Yuan became experienced in carving ‘Luo Binghe’ into the tiny spots of her work, hidden by a neat handle or painted design. She didn’t ask questions, even as word reached her city that a new demon had risen to power, quickly taking control of the two demonic realms and coming for the final one left untouched. - A mysterious cultivator stumbles across Shen Yuan's home, in dire need of nurture and care. Shen Yuan calls BS. Luo Binghe, as things will have it, is not a force to be trifled with.

Marriage By Proxy by x_los

Rating: M; Words: 5,464; Main Pairing: BingQiu

Peak lord Shen Qingqiu has been officially betrothed to the demonic prince Su Binghe via an intermediary. Prince Binghe's chamberlain is attentive, comely, and absolutely not the man Shen Qingqiu should be falling in love with.

murder cat sword only likes its wielder's boyfriend by PandaFlower

Rating: T; Words: 5,039; Main Pairing: BinggeYuan

Instead of being found by Huan Hua Palace disciples, Luo Binghe meets a Wan Jian disciple who instantly falls in love with his sword. No, not that sword. Xin Mo.

It's Just A Matter Of When by ritualist

Rating: T; Words: 4,326; Main Pairing: BingYuan

“So I’ll need to be direct,” Binghe says. “Got it. What else?” “I’m not helping you,” Shang Qinghua says. “You haven’t even got his number and you’re already being unbearable about this.”

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 8

Here we go! The end! This is not the last foray into this little 'verse however! There will be a sequel called Sweet Surrender. It will chronicle their first date, their first time (so it will be mature), and senior prom. Look for that starting next week.

Still not sure about WIP Wednesday tomorrow, but I'll keep you posted.

Steve gets to see one of the recipients of his pinks hearts, Eddie spirals a bit, and true love prevails. As it should.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

****

Steve was finally able to witness one of his anonymous hearts being received on Tuesday. Last week all the hearts had been shoved into people’s lockers, accidentally following the lead of Steve’s admirers. He strongly suspected Chrissy was the reason for that.

But in the three days leading up to Valentine’s day, the hearts were being passed out in classes. Something teachers strongly objected to but students loved.

He was in his geometry class, trying not scratch out his own eyeballs from the sheer monotony of all the numbers starting to blur together, when Chrissy and another junior cheerleader came into the class, but as it was merely quiet student time and that he wasn’t actively teaching, there was nothing the teacher could do but silently stew.

They started listing off the names of the students who had gotten pink hearts alphabetically. Steve wasn’t surprised when he got a small stack again. Most of them were from Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam. The first name was weird, but others seemed fairly normal. And of course, one from Kas.

He looked around and saw that some kids were snickering because they were getting to the later half of the alphabet and Joni Quincy. She was little fatter then her classmates but in no way overweight. But that didn’t stop people from mocking her. The fact that she braces didn’t help either.

“Joni Quincy!” Chrissy said, clearly.

The class got so quiet you could hear her sharp gasp.

“Are you sure it’s for me?” she asked shyly, like she was expecting to be pranked or tricked.

Chrissy shook her bright ponytail. She came over to the girl’s desk and handed her the heart. It was only the one, but Steve could tell it made all the difference. She smiled brightly and laughed.

“That’s sweet!” Nicole said over her shoulder. “Anonymous. But it’s still cool someone thought of you.”

The rest of the class went well until afterwards when one of the members of the football team grabbed out of her hand.

“You shouldn’t send notes yourself,” he sneered, holding it above her head so she couldn’t get back.

“I didn’t!” she cried.

Steve stood up and swiped it out of the dude’s hand. “Leave her alone. The point of the friendship hearts are for stuff like this. Knock it off.” He turned and glared at the teacher.

The teacher stared back at Steve for a moment and then sighed.

“Mr. Olsen, please refrain harassing your fellow students.”

The kid just shrugged and stormed out of the class. Steve handed it back to her.

“It is a sweet message,” he said with a smile.

-Joni

Braces may suck right now,

But the smile you’ll get in end

Will be worth it, so don’t hide your smile

A Former Braces Wearer

She returned his smile widely, showing off the braces. “It is. It was nice to get a heart.”

Steve just nodded and then gathered up his stuff to go. He could feel the warm glow in his chest expand as he watched her talk with one of the other girls in the class about the heart.

It felt good.

****

All week long, Eddie watched Steve get the pink hearts and brighten every time. They had a couple of classes together and he always lit up when the hearts arrived.

Sometimes, he would catch him looking disappointed, but by the end of the day that kilowatt smile would be back on.

He couldn’t figure out the cause. There never seemed to be a rhyme or reason for the change in mood.

So he asked one of the Hellfire Club members that had classes with Steve to see if she noticed a difference.

“Maybe it’s your special hearts,” she said with a grin.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. Come on, at least take this seriously. Oh! Maybe he’s getting them from Nancy!”

“Why would he even want pink hearts from her?”Janice said cocking her head the side in confusion. “Like he was madly in love with the girl and it’s pretty damn clear that whatever went on that week in November, it really crushed the guy. I’d think he’d be disappointed getting one from her rather than not getting one from her until it appears later in the day.”

He frowned. But that had to be it. There was no way that Steve was interested in his hearts. Maybe he just liked the color change and that’s what it was. Because there was no way he was interested in the heart giver unless he thought that it was a girl’s name. Kas could be short for Kassie after all.

Janice grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “You are spiraling and it’s a little freaky, stop.”

Eddie head snapped, he had forgotten she was even there. He turned on his most charming smile. “You’re talking to the head freak, baby. Can’t get freakier than me.”

She rolled her eyes, not charmed in the slightest. “I know what you are, Edward Munson. Don’t you forget it.”

He kissed her cheek. “Never.”

As he walked off, a locker slammed and Janice jumped. She turned around to see Steve Harrington standing up from his locker.

He hadn’t been there when Eddie came up to her, she knew for a fact. Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to talk about someone when they were literally feet away. So he must have come later. Which meant the question was ‘how much did he hear?’

She really hoped the answer was none of it.

****

Steve had to go out and get a different book for all the all the hearts he had received. He still kept the ones from ‘Kas’ in his wallet. Those were his favorite.

He never was good at hiding his emotions, despite what his father had tried to drill into him over and over again. So when he would get pink hearts every period, he would be disappointed when the Kas hearts weren’t there.

Which was rude. He enjoyed all the hearts he got. He loved every little silly message, even from the ones Dustin said were clearly from a metal band.

He had fun taking the hearts with names he knew weren’t in the year book to Dustin, because he would explain the reference to him.

By Wednesday night, Steve had added three more Kas hearts to his wallet. All sweeter than the last.

He knew he was developing a crush on whoever this was.

Then Dustin finally figured it out the day before Valentine’s day.

“It’s probably a dude,” Dustin said with a grimace.

Steve tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dustin got out a large hard back book and flipped through it. He stopped on a page about half way through and handed it to him.

Steve sat on the kid’s bed with a thump. He must have read a dozen times before he looked up at him.

“But they’re friendship hearts,” he said. “Why would it matter if it’s a guy or not?”

Dustin sat on the bed next time him and gently took the book back. “Because you’re acting like you do when you have a crush.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. He frowned in thought. “You think so?”

He nodded.

“Oh.”

He thought about all the times he wished it was Eddie who was Kas and then it hit him. He wanted it to be Eddie, not because he had a crush on Kas, but because he had a crush on Eddie.

“And if I said I didn’t mind it?” he asked softly. “That it might be a boy?”

“Are you gay?” Dustin asked, rearing his head back in confusion.

Steve shook his head. “Both. I like both.”

Dustin frowned appreciatively. “Okay then.”

“Okay?” Steve wasn’t sure he was hearing this. He had always imagined that there would be more screaming involved.

“Okay,” he repeated. “You have a big heart, it makes sense that you’d like both.”

Steve gave him the biggest hug. “Thanks, Dusty.”

“Oh!” he said, pulling away after a moment. “I found out about that Dorks and Dweebs club you were talking about!”

Dustin glared at him. “It stands for Dungeons and Dragons. Something I’ve told you over and over again.”

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair. “The club is called The Hellfire Club and they do accept freshmen.”

“They named themselves after that club in The X-men?” Dustin squealed. “That’s so cool.”

Steve blinked for a moment. Yeah, that made more sense then a bunch of high schoolers naming their club after a Satanic and gay club from the 1800s. Hey, he read. He had found a book on history of clubs in England at the local library, and thought they meant soccer. They had not.

Dustin bombarded him with questions about the club and Steve answered him the best he could. After all the kid figured out his Kas so it was the least he could for him.

****

Valentine’s came and Steve was the recipient of three red hearts. But as he searched through the pink hearts there was no Kas. The end of school came and he still hadn’t looked at the red hearts yet.

Eddie came up to his locker as he was shoving his books into it. “Hey, Stevie, why the long face?”

Steve sighed and closed the locker, turning around to sit on the floor. “I’ve been getting these pink hearts from a specific person all week and all last week and I didn’t get one today. So I guess I’m a little bummed by it.”

Eddie dropped his bag and sat down next to Steve. He drew his knees up and draped his arms over them, linking his thumbs together.

“Maybe they sent a red heart instead?” he said, bumping their shoulders together.

Steve shrugged. “They’ve been all pink hearts up until now, so...”

“What makes this one so special then?”

“I have a friend that is really big into D&D,” Steve murmured.

Eddie gasped and held his hands to his chest. “You, Steven Harrington, has friend who like’s D&D?”

“He’s more like a little brother to me,” he explained with a shrug, “he’ll start high school next year. But anyways, he’s been telling me all the references from pink hearts from the ones that wanted to be anonymous.”

“And there’s a D&D reference in there?” Eddie asked, looking over at him. He knew there was, but maybe Steve had been getting hearts from someone else in Hellfire or another secret D&D nerd he knew nothing about.

Steve nodded and pulled out his wallet. “It’s the same person that left the hearts on my door over the weekend.” He pulled out all ten hearts to Eddie’s awe.

“You kept all of them?” he whispered as he gently took them from him. Eddie fanned them out like a deck of cards and then tilted his head. “They’re out of order.”

Steve frowned as he watched Eddie successfully put them in order and a pattern emerged. The colors had shifted darker and darker with each day. Until the one he got yesterday was a really dark pink.

He looked down at the red hearts that he had set on the floor to pull out his wallet. He picked them up only to be snatched from by Eddie.

“Nicole Hawkins?” he said dismissively and tossed it over his shoulder. “She’s too boring.”

Steve huffed out a laugh.

“Lindsey Addams?” he said with a snort, tossing it after Nicole’s red heart. “Has a boyfriend and is only looking for someone she can use to make him jealous.”

Steve smiled. That one he knew. He was down on all the gossip, he just didn’t know Eddie was too.

He handed the final red heart to Steve and smiled. “There you go.”

Steve took the heart and his smile matched Eddie’s when it showed it was from Kas.

“You know,” he said softly. “I wanted them to be from you. He told me about Kas the Betrayer and how whoever was sending them was probably a guy. But I wanted them to be from you since I told you my secret.”

Eddie gulped. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had been shoring himself up that Steve would think it was a girl and he would walk away with a broken heart when he found out it wasn’t. But staring at this gentle boy with a big heart who just wanted to do something nice for the girls that wouldn’t get even so much as a single pink heart, he knew. He knew that there would be no walking away for either of them.

“They’re from me,” he admitted. “I fell so hard for you, Stevie. And I hoped that by gradually changing the colors of the hearts you see that I was gearing up to tell you I loved you.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Sorry I missed that.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together again. “It’s all right, I got to see the cutest pout when you thought I hadn’t given you a heart today.”

“You’ll let me make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising his head.

“Take me out on a date and shower me with that patented Harrington charm,” Eddie said with a grin. “And we’ll call it even.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I have plans for Valentine’s day after all.”

Eddie stood up and held his hand out to him. Steve took it and Eddie helped him to his feet.

“Sure do, big boy,” he said with a grin.

Steve laughed and let Eddie lead him out to the parking lot. It was nearly empty but that was perfect.

Eddie walked Steve to his car.

“I’ll pick you up at five, okay?” Steve whispered.

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded. He walked away, but as Steve got his in car, Eddie suddenly leapt into the air and whooped!

Steve shook his head and smiled fondly. He had started the month feeling sorry for himself and now he had a date with a sweet boy on Valentine’s day.

Life was already looking up.

****

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @spectrum-spectre

2- @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

3- @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv

4- @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @fullpoetrybread

7- @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

8- @skyewaytohell @swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234

9- @dotdot-wierdlife @ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself

10- @dam28lh

[phaelimbs]

"You might be wondering why you're listening to a tape from a guy you've never met before.

The answer is simple: you have to. There is no choice. If you're her lover, boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, it doesn't matter. You have to listen.

If you're playing with her feelings, you might as well quit now. Leave, tell her she doesn't mean anything to you, and go. You'll save her the pain, the time, and the memories. But if you think you truly love her, then you vow to listen until the end, and live after.

She and I met in highschool, a freshman who had only transferred from a different place, looking for new friends, environment, and a peaceful life. Ever since she walked into that cold, half-full room, my eyes had been on her and her alone.

I made sure to be friends with her, be the best company she could ever have, and be the safe space in times she needs it most. It wasn't long until we confessed and kissed and started dating.

From then on, we shared countless memories, graduated together, lived in an apartment near the university she goes to. Life is good, I knew who she is— from appearance to the very depth of her soul.

So if you're willing to stick around for her, I'll give you ten rules you have to follow:

1. Always keep the light on for her

- When you leave a room she's about to enter, always leave it on for her. She finds it disrespectful, as if it was disregarding her presence and the importance of her. It was often the root of her mood swings and our arguments, so in order to avoid that, make sure to never close the light.

2. Keep the snacks in a height she can reach

- I know that sometimes we like to tease her and put it in places far from her reach for fun, but if you do it in a bad time, it will not go well. Don't hide her favorite food or drinks from her, she will find a way to turn the prank back on you and make you feel guilty. Beware.

3. Let her listen to her favourite songs in the car

- Let her bang her head, sing as loud and off-key as she wants, play it on repeat for hours until your ears go deaf from the same tune. It's one of her favourite things to do, and if you love her, you'll be content with the smile on her face and the happiness she radiates.

4. Make sure to hear her side during misunderstandings

- See, this is something you should do with her or with someone else. Whenever you fight, let her speak her own perspective, oftentimes she does not understand things the way you do. Always be open-minded and patient when it comes to her.

5. Kiss her goodmorning, kiss her goodnight

- Part of her routine is to shower you with love, so always make sure to reciprocate. When you wake up first, kiss her goodmorning, when you sleep last, kiss her goodnight. Love her the way she loves you.

6. Remember the smallest things about her

- Whether it's her favorite food, drink, or even the side she likes to sleep on in bed. Make sure to write any information you learn about her, put it in your notes or a journal, and make sure to remember. Remembering is love, remembering is caring for her in the most normal yet wholesome way.

7. Show her how much you love her

- No matter how long it has been since you started loving one another, always find a way to show her your love in the most youthful way possible. Rekindle that love, strengthen it. I promise you, she will love you deeper than anyone ever has.

8. Never hurt her

- No matter how hard things get, never hurt her verbally, physically, emotionally, and mentally on purpose. Always be mindful of everything you say, because she loves you, and she will never do that to you.

9. Be truthful, be honest

- Even with your feelings, always show how much you love her, or the kind of emotions you feel at the moment. Never be afraid to speak your mind, it will strengthen your relationship.

10. And lastly, never leave her side

- Remind her you're there, you're there to walk with her through every step of the way. Show her you'll stay even through the darkest times, make sure to fulfill the one thing I never did.

I'll be honest with you, she might have chosen you because of me. A personality, a piece of me shining in you, it will hurt for a while knowing she loved you because of me, because she could never love anyone the way she did with me. I can say the same, but not in the same circumstance.

If I loved her so much, and if she does too, why am I talking to you? I'm giving you these rules because it's what I did, it's what I know she loves to see, hear, and feel. She loves to love, and I love her.

Give her the world, make sure to make her smile the same way I did, and the same way I will never do. Because the truth is, my time is ticking.

Sooner than later, I will be in the hospital, and soon I will die. I can feel it, the doctor said it. But she can never know this.

All she will think is about how I left her for someone else, how I disappeared. I already managed to promise everyone around her that they will say I am simply living my life, fulfilling my dreams without her. When in fact I am no longer living, and my dream is fulfilled because my dream is her.

So, before I end this tape, I'll remind you to follow the rules one more time. Love her, remember her, and stay with her. If you already agree with the rules before I laid them out then good for you, you're the man she needs. But if not, then keep them in mind, every second of the day.

If this reaches you, it is because a friend lent them to you, with a promise to never let her know, it will be our secret. If you hear this, it is because I am gone. So my final wish and will, is to leave her in good hands, and in good heart.

Love her today, tomorrow, and the years to come. Never let a tear fall down her eye because of you.

"Hey babe, I think the cab is here! Hurry before we lose the reservation!"

I'm coming, love."

[artyandink]

amoralism | one

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

A/N - I said I’d post on Friday but surprise! Also, as a note, I have no intention of completely relating to realism (even though I’m pretty sure that’s a title of a chapter). This will be almost like an action/romance movie, and the format is sort of like that too.

Song Inspo: Shameless - Camila Cabello

narcissism

Fifty-Shots Bar had never had this many patrons before.

Clinking of glasses, the bellow of random toasts, tapping of the bar for another round, the whole trifecta played on loop until all those glasses came down on the counter and all the beefy men downing those drinks like water would slap the back of the tallest in the lot, forcing that dude with the unreasonably gorgeous hair to bend to their height from the pressure.

“What’s the occasion, boys?” The lady on shift, Jenna, chuckled. She was intrigued as to why the festivities were so… robust, but then one of the guys shoved the tall one forward, clapping his shoulder in a way that knocked the latter’s breath out.

“Ah, nothing.” The taller one tried playing it off, but the shorter wouldn’t hear of it. His green eyes shone mischievously as he ruffled the tall guy’s hair. Jenna’s eyes couldn’t help but trail down the patron’s, well, everything. Short blonde hair, five o’clock shadow on the sharpest jawline she’d ever seen. Lips always in a pout, daring her to kiss it away until they bruised. Casual denim shirt nothing short of tempting, as tight as a damn straitjacket over that broad, no doubt kissable chest. Arms framed in his sleeves, probably bore enough strength to throw her around like a ragdoll and he wouldn’t break a sweat.

She bit her lip. Oh Lord, this man was either from heaven or hell and she wouldn’t complain either way.

“It’s not nothing.” He laughed, shaking his head. “My brother Sam here took down a big-time multi level marketing scheme. So damn modest.” Another clap of Sam’s shoulder. However, he seemed to have clocked Jenna and her obvious admiration of his entire being, a quirk of the corner of his mouth having her knees like jelly. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

She giggled, her finger twirling her hair around her finger as if she was a little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Jenna. What’s yours?”

“Dean Winchester.” He took her hand, kissing her knuckle and letting his lips linger, smouldering eye contact sending shivers down her spine. “Agent Dean Winchester. Say, Jenna, what time do you get off?”

“When you do.” She breathed, and the low chuckle from Dean had her snapping back into her senses but also getting a very noticeable ache between her thighs. “Um, in an hour.”

Sam had already left. He wasn’t in the mood for watching very visible eye-banging.

Champagne. Chauvinists. The classic fancy, downtown party hosted by a family that owned half of Chicago. Flashing lights, a pair of eyes on you at all times… it was rather an overwhelming feeling, one that you couldn’t shake.

You didn’t know whether to feel confident or hunted in the red dress that you wore, satin and navy and with an open back- all things nice and very attractive to men. Your makeup and blonde (for today) hair done like a movie star and getting the attention of every man in the room, regardless of age.

“And who might you be, sweets?” A very Southern accent drawled from behind you, and you turned around, making a show of playing the innocent yet extremely attractive and mysterious lady at the most extravagant birthday party you had ever seen.

You were playing a stereotype. You hated stereotypes.

“Anna Raleigh.” You responded smoothly, and he seemed to buy it, taking your hand and kissing the knuckle, the creepy eye contact urging you to snatch your hand back and scrub it with an antiseptic wipe.

“Miss Raleigh, you are a work of art. Name’s Matthias Aldrich.” He practically purred, and that sent a cold shiver up your spine.

You put on a polite, smitten smile, though you were inwardly rolling your eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

Matthias tucked a strand of your blonde hair behind your ear. “I’ve always been fond of women who are the golden type of blonde. Hope this is natural.”

You took a crouton from a passing tray, popping it in your mouth and chewing on it, answering once you’d swallowed the bite. You’d done it quick because you could see this dude’s eyes on your lips as you chewed. “I say, these croutons are quite dry, no?”

The door to Jenna’s apartment burst open, her and Dean stumbled in, lips locked, door closing with a well-timed click and moans echoing amid breathy sighs. Dean’s jacket fell just as Jenna’s fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to jolt and let out a growl, groaning as he bent to kiss her neck. “Just like that.” He murmured, nipping and assaulting the tanned skin. Only detaching to pull her skimpy tank over her head, revealing a hot pink, lace bra.

She’s freaky. He liked that.

“You like?” She breathed, ample chest heaving as her teeth worried her bottom lip, batting her eyelashes. Putting on a show for him.

“Mmh.” He hummed, nodding before he reached for the clasp, effortlessly undoing it. It fell to the floor, and he clicked his tongue with a grin. “Better.”

“Much.” She purred, kissing him hotly and leading them to the bedroom.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Grinding.

Jenna’s legs wrapping around his waist, courtesy of Dean putting them there. Moans. Groans. Whimpers. Cries and low mutters of each other’s name. The room heating up and pulsing with enough pressure to forge a diamond.

The bed creaking. Headboard banging. High pitched moans that belong in a porno. Groans of ‘just like that’ and whines of ‘right there’ and ‘don’t stop’.

Not even after a minute after your comment about the dry croutons, the building was stormed. Armed personnel burst through every exit, holding up automatics and yelling for everyone to get their hands up, while you were taken by the arm by one of the people yelling ‘FBI! Hands where we can see them!’ and dragged in a way which appeared rough.

You were led kicking and screaming into a side van, and the moment the door slid shut, you snapped out of it, pulling the wig off. “About time, eh, boys?”

“At least we got your signal.” One protested, while another snorted.

“Dry croutons? Really?” He rolled his eyes, spinning on the chair, raising a pointed eyebrow at you. “With all due respect, it could be something less outlandish.”

“Then it would be too easy to miss, Velasquez.” You retorted, grabbing a makeup wipe and beginning to practically scrub it all off. Also taking an antiseptic wipe and a bottle of hand sanitizer to rid your hand of Matthias Aldrich’s lips. “And since when do I work like I’m a basic, sweater wearing, background blending Gertrude?”

“She has a point, Velasquez.” One agent quipped as he went by. You pointed after him with a smirk.

“Willis gets it.” You grinned, shrugging. “Why can’t you? Have a heart, Velasquez.”

“Yeah, have a heart.”

“Shut up!” Velasquez yelled after him, and got the middle finger from Willis in response.

“You ready to report to the CO, Agent?” Willis asked you, passing you a mug of coffee, which you gratefully sipped.

“When am I not?” You chuckled, letting the warm liquid wash over your throat. “Now, I don’t care what you two clowns do, I need these guys behind bars for two lifers at least. I’ve been hunting down these sons of bad mothers for months. I’m not having any slip ups, no buy ins nor outs. Every. Exit. Sealed.” You looked between the two with an intense glare, no nonsense and all business. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Morning afters were always hard for Dean. He had a rule that he followed to the T.

Mind blowing sex? Doesn’t matter, leave before he gets attached and she gets hurt.

“Sorry, Jen, I’d stay, but I’m late for work.” He hurriedly buttoned his denim shirt, trying not to get distracted by the sight of the girl in the sheets, naked body only a thin layer of cotton away.

All he had to do was peel it.

“Aw, handsome, I thought you’d stay for round six.” Jenna giggled, looking him up and down. Inside, Dean was rolling his eyes in frustration. They always got clingy after the best night of their life. Then again, that was purely his fault.

“I would, trust me, darlin’.” He cleared his throat, walking into the living room and finding his jacket and keys, along with his belt. That was important.

Jenna stepped in as well, clad in a silk robe that made her look no short of delectable. But he had to resist. Stick to the damn code. “Y’know, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform.”

She was trying a hit. God, she was trying hard. Dean had to physically resist going back for another hit. She was clingy, sure, but there was a huge double standard there.

“Are you, now?” He smirked, running a hand through his messy hair. “Careful, sweetheart, or I might sextuple dip.”

“Maybe I want you to.” She winked, and it had him chuckling, looking down and then back at her.

“Tempting. Very tempting.”

You stepped into the office, your heels making small taps on the floor as you went, signing in and showing your ID at the register before making your way inside. You’d been told to take a rest for a few days before you returned to your post in the HQ at DC, but who were you to listen?

And everyone knew it too, because the very moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with a show of applause and cheers from your colleagues. “Tenth drug ring of your career.” Agent Lafitte clapped your shoulder, chuckling. “You’re on a roll, sister.”

“Cool it with the flattery, Benny, I’m on a time crunch.” You snorted, shaking your head and holding a hand out for a case file, which was dropped into your hand as you continued walking.

“Hi.” There was a blonde girl beside you, hair pulled up into a ponytail, presumably the one who handed the fine to you. “Agent Jo Harvelle. I used to work narcotics, but they’re giving me a trial in Major Crimes. I was told by the CO to shadow you, so I can get a good sense of the ropes.”

While looking through the files, you glanced up at Agent Harvelle, seeing the eager look on her face. Rather like you when you started, and the eager ones made good agents. With a little tough love. “Yeah, a’ight. CO’s called me for a briefing, so it’ll be up to him whether you stay or step out.”

“About that drug ring you busted?” She grinned. “I was told. By practically everyone. How are you that skilled?”

“Ain’t my first rodeo, hon.” You smirked as you reached the boss’ office, rapping twice on the door with your knuckles and earning a polite ‘come in’.

That you did, finding your superior officer, Senior Agent Robert Singer, standing behind his desk, nose deep in a file while his ear was being talked off by… oh, boy.

Agent Winchester.

“So I quickly take my gun, aim it between his eyes,” He held up finger guns and aimed them to prove his point, completely disregarding your arrival, hideously typical, “and I said ‘hands up or I’ll reenact Rambo’. Genius, am I right?”

You cleared your throat sharply.

That got Agent Winchester’s attention, his green eyes zeroing in on you and giving you memories back that you tried to dispose of in the first place. A smirk twitched at those lips that were once too close to be professional before they stretched into a grin, pearly whites flashing. “Mornin’, Agent. Surprised to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing.” You pressed your lips together (and your thighs, but you’d never admit that), turning to Agent Singer instead. “Should I leave Harvelle outside, sir?”

“That’s ideal.” Singer nodded, so you signalled to Harvelle to stay outside as you closed and locked the soundproof door. You passed the file on the Brierson drug ring to him, which he checked over. “Impressive work, as always. This’ll land them behind bars for sure.”

“Always the perfectionist, aren’t you?” Winchester quipped, arms folded across his chest with a smug smirk. Your brow twitched; you knew exactly why he was highlighting that word in bold, italics, whatever he was intending to do. You’d just rather not think about it.

You scanned him over, adding all the facts in your head. His shirt wasn’t ironed. Belt was wonky. Hair looked like it had a comb desperately run through it but failed to tame it. Faint hint of something red you recognised as a lipstick smear on his jugular and a sliver of a purple bruise that disappeared under his collar. Which was hastily pulled up. His tie done in the simplest knot ever and still looked tragic.

He got here in quite the rush.

“Nice night?” You shot back, a full smirk tugging at your lips and making his drop. He gave you a look which blatantly said smartass, while you proudly notched that win on your belt.

Singer looked between the two of you before tapping his desk. “Entertaining, but not why you’re both here. We’ve found ourselves in a fix. Franz Brierson wasn’t at that party.”

Your blood ran cold. That guy was the big boss, the guy who started it all, got everyone on his payroll. If he was loose… but he couldn’t be loose. Unless you didn’t check?

“I’ve been looking into it for the past five hours. That’s right, I got here early.” Singer huffed out a breath. “There’s a chance that our big boss was notified beforehand. A mole that told him we were coming.”

“A mole. In the FBI.” Dean muttered, now serious as he rubbed a hand into his mouth. “We’ve been clean for years.”

“It’s the only explanation.” You piped up, shaking your head as you began to pace. Heels tapping, Dean’s eyes fixating on the sway of your hips and your ass in that getup at the wrong goddamn moment. “That operation was airtight. No room for error. Only someone on the inside could have leaked that info.”

“You two are the best Major Crimes has. Most arrests, most drug and crime busts I’ve seen on a record in all my years of being here.” Singer folded his arms, looking between the two of you. “I don’t know the whats, whens, whos, hows, whys of what happened when you two were last assigned on a case together, but I need this operation to stay in this circle right here.” He faced you. “When you’re working this case, Agent Harvelle can’t be there. It’s gonna be hard to shake, but you can handle it. As for you,” Singer shot an exasperated look at Winchester, “look presentable!”

“I look hot.” Dean pouted, now holding his jacket over his shoulder with it hooked on his index.

“Hot isn’t FBI. Go sort yourself out, or I’ll get your brother to do it. I need to oversee operations.” Singer left the room and the tense air between you and Dean, which you faced head on.

“So,” You started in a lilting voice, which he recognised instantly as your teasing tone and prompting an eye roll before the words left your lips, “was she good?”

“Shut up.” He groaned, shaking his head as he pulled his suit jacket back on. “None of your damn business. It’s an intimate exploration, not exhibitionism.” He lowered his voice so you couldn’t hear. “Though she’d probably be into that.”

“Are we calling sex an intimate exploration now?” You scoffed lightly, laughing afterwards. “You’re such a sappy romantic.”

“Asshole.” He shot back. Two can play, Winchester.

“Dumbass.”

“Smartass.”

“Jackass.”

“We gotta stop using ‘ass’ in every sentence.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair and picking up the file to busy himself. But the file was picked out of his hands, left carelessly on the desk, your lips claiming his something sinful.

Something that had him moaning, gripping your hips and his mouth soft, pliable, agreeable to your every want and need. He was all yours, and that was all it took to silence him.

Well, not really silence him, but details weren’t necessary. Not when your plush lips were pressing against his neck like that. Hot, open mouthed. Insistent. Rousing. Dizzying. Intoxicating.

He’d be damned if he ever got enough.

His shirt was soon hanging open, tie discarded as the marks of that sexy lipstick shade littered his torso, and he wasn’t complaining. He definitely wasn’t complaining when you sank to your knees, unbuckling his belt as your tongue traced his abs. Didn’t dare when his slacks pooled to the floor, boxers dropping next, his hand tangling in your hair as-

“Hey.” Your fingers snapped in front of him, taking him out of his delightful daydream, however ill-timed. He swallowed, giving himself a once over. No tie discarded, no shirt undone, no lipstick marks and definitely no you looking so sexy on your knees for him. Having him whine for you.

That was a thought worth biting his lip to.

“You with me?” You continued, and upon his shaky nod, you gave him a weird look before continuing on with your briefing. He inwardly wiped sweat off his brow, thankful to whatever god was watching for the lucky save.

You were sipping a late-night decaf coffee as you contemplated the case again, dressed in your worst-looking pyjamas with an old tea stain on the front and fuzzy socks. Had you scoped the party properly, you could’ve clocked if big man Brierson was actually there. But he’d known, he’d known, and now everyone in Major Crimes was under investigation.

By you.

Well, and Agent Winchester, but you’d rather not think of him. You’re actually not quite sure what happened between you two, all that you broke your own rules for your heart to be broken too. You focused on your job, he had fun. Your cycle went that way.

You’d find a new case, he’d find a new girl. Both to busy yourselves so you wouldn’t have to think about each other, which worked until now.

You got a phone call, and you mindlessly picked it up, irritated as you were pulled from your contemplative thoughts. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

‘Dean, so nice to hear from you.’ You heard, his voice mimicking yours before switching back to his. ‘Wow, Agent, colour me surprised; it’s nice to hear from you too. How are you, Dean? I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart, how are you? You’re so polite.’

“Do I sound like someone to engage in small talk right now?” You deadpanned among chuckles at his own joke, putting your dinner - leftovers - in the microwave. God, you weren’t in the mood for this.

Eventually his snickers subsided, and he cleared his throat as you set the mug down. ‘Duly noted. You’re boring. Anyway, about the mole case. I think we should meet up in the office tomorrow to draw up a list of potential suspects.’

You took your warmed dinner, placing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you stabbed the spaghetti with a fork, chewing as you spoke. “And I think you’re insane. That’s the place we’re casing. Why in the hell would we start drafting up names there?”

You heard Dean clear his throat at the end of the line. ‘Right. Got it. My place?’ Truth is, Dean had been hoping you’d say anything but ‘let’s not draft at the office’. He was scared he’d lift you up on the nearest surface and do what he hadn’t the previous time, mark you, claim you and then let you claim him, mark him, wreck him. He didn’t know what you two were, or what you’d become.

Maybe strangers with very intense, deep seated sexual tension.

“What time?” You asked through yet another bite of spaghetti. You weren’t about to forgo dinner for this dude, cordiality be damned.

‘Tomorrow, straight after hours, just head to my place. Does that work for you?’

“Mm, yeah.” You nodded, setting down your plate to quickly note it in your schedule. “See you then, Agent Winchester.”

‘Call me Dean.’

“Agent Winchester.” It was the least you could do after how things got last time. Again, you’d rather not talk about it.

You walked into the DC office after registering, briefing with Agent Singer before heading to the break room, where you found Trainee Agent Harvelle, Trainee Agent Kevin Tran, Agent Benjamin Lafitte, Agent Garth Fitzgerald and Agent Sam Winchester.

You knew Sam. He was a damn sight more respectful and less… Dean-esque than his older brother. Smarter, yet less effective on brute force raids. For that, you needed Dean Winchester. Anything research, or hacking into databases, Sam was your guy.

“Agents.” You smiled awkwardly, not knowing how else to greet them as you went straight for the coffee pot. Thank the Lord for the petition to make the standard of coffee in that jug better that got the vote from every damn person in the department.

HR and Maintenance can suck it.

“Agent.” The rest of them replied, identically sipping cups of Joe.

“Agents.” Singer walked in, holding a file. “Briefing room. Now.” He walked out, and you all followed suit, taking your coffees with you because you needed the caffeine to sustain your brains. Once you all stepped into the briefing room, where Agent Winchester and Agent Nick Garrison were waiting.

Singer grunted, pulling up a slideshow on the board. “Let’s get this over with.” He showed bodies, robbed banks, hostage situations. “Six occurrences of organised crime over the past four weeks. All hitting major municipalities. Now it’s our jurisdiction.”

“What have we got from the crime scenes?” Agent S. Winchester asked, brow furrowed in thought.

“Nothing but this snake logo, spray painted at every scene.” Up comes a logo of a rearing cobra.

You shrugged, quickly figuring something out. “Well, that solves half of the mystery. They want our attention.”

“It is possible.”

“I think it’s a temper tantrum.” You snorted, pointing to the board. “Look at where they’re hitting. Large cities, maximum damage, it’s a cry out for our beady eyes. Leaving a logo at the scene? Someone either wants to get caught or lead us on.”

“Sounds kinda like girls at a bar.” Agent D. Winchester snickered, but earned a weird look from everyone in the room. “What? I make my own style of analogies, don’t come at me for it.”

“Who’s on the team, sir?” Lafitte asked, the man all slow drawl, suave talk and suspenders.

You pointed to Agent D. Winchester, smirking. “Leave him out, his main interests are girls and booze.”

“Blow me.” He scoffed in retaliation, glaring at you. That was a mistake on Dean’s part, cause he started to imagine it. Oh, that memory’s vivid as hell.

“Beg for it.” You shot back, and despite the steady inflation of awkwardness, he really had half a mind to beg for it, honour be damned to hell.

Pin drop silence. Shared smirks. Uncomfortable eye contact between you and Dean, your minds going to places they really shouldn’t.

Agent Singer cleared his throat, then continued talking. “I want you,” he pointed to you, “and the two Agent Winchesters and Agent Lafitte on it, and the two trainees Agent Tran and Harvelle to shadow. You’re dismissed, except for you two.”

Didn’t take a genius to know who ‘you two’ were.

So everyone but you and Agent D. Winchester filtered out, and the moment the door closed, you were both less bickering, head chopping and heart ripping. More on business.

“This is a good chance for you two to scout for our mole.” Singer looked between the two of you pointedly. “As much unknown history as you two have, you idjits need to set that aside. For the sake of our damn Major Crimes unit. Narcotics will give me hell if I don’t sort this out. And the board of directors will be less pleased that we’ve been compromised.”

“We understand, sir.” You nodded, understanding how goddamn serious this was. Lives were on the line. Your jobs, the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s maintained integrity. “We can put aside our differences, can’t we, daddy’s boy?” You smirked at Dean, then pretended to realise that you’d made a mistake. “Oh, my bad. Agent Winchester.”

Dean resisted a clapback with all his might. He didn’t care if their CO was right there, he’d bend you over this desk and show you who’s really in control here.

That would wipe the smirk off those pretty lips. Replace it with his claim over you.

“So, Dean, I wanna know.” Sam smirked, cracking open a beer and passing it to his older brother. “What’s with you and her?”

Dean scoffed, sipping the beer and shaking his head. “I’m asked this fifty times a day. There’s nothing going on here. We’re work colleagues. She’s incredibly annoying, and grating, and infuriating, and I’m extremely handsome.”

That got a wider smirk from Sam, a knowing one. “You knew who I was talking about.”

That caught Dean out, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Say what?”

“You have so many girls in your life that half of your contacts are women.” Sam raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “But you knew who I was referencing first try.”

“Humour me, Sammy.” Dean grimaced, folding his arms. “How do you label intense sexual tension that was almost acted on yet it almost broke our personal set of rules? Hm? Thought so.”

“So, she’s kind of like an old flame.”

“That flame ain’t lit.”

Sam nodded slowly, giving a breathless chuckle and an inclination of his head. “Yeah. Sure.” He stepped out of the room to head upstairs, which alerted Dean of the implication. He rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Hey! Sammy!”

NEXT UP:

“Oh, honey, such a flirt!” You laughed in a posh accent, mimicking your mother’s laugh to the best of your ability while you swatted Dean’s chest. He smirked at the look in your eyes, because goddamn was it obvious that you hated this.

“Darlin’, I can’t help myself around you.” He turned to the other charity goers with a proud smirk, gesturing to all of you. “Can’t keep my hands off my gorgeous wife. Might have to have something off the menu for dessert, if you catch my drift.” He winked at some elderly ladies, who giggled and waved him off.

“Such a charming boy.” One cooed, obviously eyeing Dean up with poorly restrained envy. While you looked around for your target, you missed the way Dean’s eyes travelled down your body in that form-fitting red dress, v-neck, v-back, thigh slit where he knew you had a thigh holster strapped in, all the good stuff. And his eyes were on those scarlet heels.

He was imagining ramming into you with those sexy things on. And that dress, well, it’d be off in second if he had the chance. And that lipstick? Well, it’d be smeared and leaving prints on his neck, chest, abs and- that’s going a bit too unprofessional.

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