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#i genuinely don’t know how this happens
arabriddler · 3 days
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important ! In recent years especially this year I’ve noticed a lot that the internet language picked up so many Islamic phrases and, from a muslim perspective, it makes the internet a little more welcoming. the thing is, a lot of the time with Islamic phrases you have to be careful about when and where to say them they hold their own weight and demand their own respect so here is a list explaining each phrase and some notes about it.
In sha allah
It means “ If God wills “. Muslims say it because we’re unaware of what future holds it’s actually blasphemous to claim to know the future, so saying so means “ If it’s the will of god it will happen if not it won’t “ and you’d say it about future events. side note, it’s also a polite way of saying No. for example, someone asks you to do something and you say in sha allah. Technically you’re not saying yes or no, and if it’s not in god’s will it won’t happen.
Ma sha allah
It means “ this is what god intended “ and it’s a compliment. Saying so is like saying WOW! But it’s also kind of a prayer of protection? If I see someone with pretty hair I should say “ Ma sha allah your hair is very pretty “ the ma sha allah protects the person from the evil eye. By saying that I’m also saying I’m not jealous I’m genuinely enamored and I don’t wish any harm to go to it.
Astagfurullah
it means “ to god I repent “ or “ from god I seek forgiveness” it’s usually used when you make a mistake but people also use it when they see something bad or when they want to avoid saying something bad. Like once my card refused to work and I’d say that so I won’t say any curse words and to calm down my anger
wallah/wallahi
okay this one is important. This one shouldn’t be used so lightly. It means “ by god’s name “ and it’s basically swearing in Allah’s name. You are only supposed to say it if you genuinely mean what you’re saying. It’s such a heavy word that I only say it very rarely and if you say it and don’t follow up on what you said you have to fast for three days as repentance.
ya allah
ya is an addressing word? Like talking to someone or calling them? Like saying O’ ( someone ) so ya allah means O’ god
Al hamdullilah // hamdullilah
it means ‘ praise/thanks to god ‘ said when something good happens or when you feel relieved about something— for example, my shirt is stained badly and I’m worried it won’t clean well. I clean it and the stain is gone so I say “ al hamdullilah “ kind of like phew!. Sometimes people say it as an answer when they’re asked how they are it can either mean things are good or bad but we preserve .
One more note is that with the name of Allah you should also be careful it’s not supposed to be written on papers that’ll get stepped on or lightly used in art because it also has its own weight it’s regarded heavily. Like even in home decorations it should be elevated and not overshadowed. If I have to throw away a paper I have to sit down and color over the name of Allah or burn the papers so it won’t get thrown in trash.
another note is that those phrases aren’t Muslim exclusive. Some Arab non-Muslims use them as well. This is only my explanation from a Muslim perspective.
Another another note is this is what I can remember at the moment but if you have additions or enquiries let me know
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alexias-putellas · 2 days
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centre of attention // a.bonmatí x reader
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a.bonmatí x reader
based on this request! wanted to get something out for you guys so voila. not proofread as per usual
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despite being named as one of the greatest of your generation, you were incredibly humble. you always credited others before yourself, always mentioning the person who gave the assist whenever asked about a goal you scored in post match interviews.
most people assumed it was because of how genuinely nice of a person you were and how much you adored your teammates, which was true, but really it was because you absolutely loathed being the centre of attention and this fact was known by your club and country teammates—who made it their mission to tease you about it to no end.
your girlfriend however never took part in it so you were thankful that you had at least one person on your side. of course she poked a little bit of fun at your shyness but aitana knew when to stop.
so when you walked up to take a corner during a game, booted it with all your might and accidentally curled it straight into the top corner securing your hattrick, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.
but that couldn’t happen so you plastered a smile onto your face and approached your celebrating teammates. their grins almost made you scowl and you took their congratulatory comments in jest, knowing that they were holding back until after the game.
“buen trabajo.” aitana whispered to you and the smile that grew on your face was a genuine one.
“gracias, my love.”
barcelona won the game and since you were subbed off not long after the corner, you were wrapped up in a big puffer jacket as you made your way back onto the pitch. you headed straight for your girlfriend, throwing your arms around her.
“here she is!” lucy shouted before her arms were around your waist and she lifted you up. “little miss hattrick!”
“oh my god! lucia roberta, put me down now!” you hissed loudly, your face growing warmer with every laughing teammate you passed.
as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you shot straight over to aitana, tucking yourself into her side whilst glaring at lucy.
“i think you are wanted over there cariño.” aitana pointed over her shoulder and you groaned.
“oh, aita, no! don’t make me go over there.”
your girlfriend giggled before gently pushing you in the direction of the interviewer. you greeted her politely and took the outstretched microphone.
“what a game that was!” she said and you nodded in agreement. “barcelona have been unstoppable this season, it’s incredible.”
“i know. the girls have been amazing, it’s such an honour to play alongside them all. we’re having so much at the moment with each other and with the fans and we can’t wait to get more results like this for them.”
“before we do anything else, we have to talk about the hattrick, right? we have to.”
you felt your face heat up and smiled shyly. “i don’t think we have to–“
“of course we do!” the interviewer laughed as you scrunched up your nose. “oh we have another guest!”
you made a noise of confusion before looking over your shoulder, beaming at an approaching aitana. she smiled and stood next to you, holding something out.
“for you,” she said and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at her hands. “player of the match!”
you rolled your eyes fondly but took it from her hands, feeling the heat on your face worsen. the far sound of your teammates cheering had you hiding in the collar of your coat and the interviewer was laughing again. “well deserved if you ask me.”
“exactly,” aitana agreed, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “nobody else scored a hattrick, did they? and did you see that last goal? asombrosa, tan asombrosa.”
you didn’t think it was possible for your face to get any hotter than it already was as aitana praised you. taking a peek, you scowled as she grinned at you.
“and she had two assists,” your girlfriend continued and you silently prayed for the ground to swallow you up. “two assists, three goals, and she was all over the pitch. we can talk about that corner goal again if you want.”
you shook your head frantically as aitana laughed, feeling utterly grateful when the interviewer spoke up again. “well it was lovely to speak with you ladies. congratulations on a great win and we’ll let you celebrate now.”
“gracias, gracias,” you spluttered out, waving quickly before shooting out of the cameras view. aitana was quick to follow after saying her own goodbye and you were quick to shove her away. “i should kill you with this aita!”
“but you won’t amor.”
“i should,” you muttered, glaring at her halfheartedly. “but you’re right. i won’t.”
aitana smiled and wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you into her side. “you know you are really cute when you are shy.”
“cállate or i really will kill you with this.”
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heaven4lostgirls · 1 day
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I deserve better (A.H)
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3
summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.
word count: 1.5k
There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.
You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.
“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.
“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.
 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.
 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.
“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.
“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”
“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”
“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”
Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.
“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.
Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.
“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.
You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.
As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.
You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.
In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.
Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.
Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.
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reilemon · 1 day
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₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊Cool Off₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
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♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?
♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
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You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -
meet up with your friend
shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets
doctor’s appointment
You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.
But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.
Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.
The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.
You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.
Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list
get some dessert for Zayne
And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.
☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊
“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.
It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.
You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.
“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.
Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.
“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”
You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.
With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.
Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...
“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.
Busted!
For like a hundredth time.
You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”
He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”
You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.
You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!
In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.
Zayne's voice fades into focus.
"Is everything okay?"
“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"
"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.
You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.
You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”
It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.
When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”
Right, the heat.
You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.
Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?
You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’
Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.
You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.
Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.
Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.
He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’
You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.
“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.
Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.
Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”
You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”
The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.
He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.
He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."
You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.
His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.
"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.
Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."
Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.
Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.
"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.
The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.
Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"
He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.
Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.
Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.
Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’
You shrug ‘Just pull out.’
‘That’s not very respo – ‘
‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.
He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.
Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.
‘Yes… I need you.’
With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.
His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.
'Zaynee-' you whine.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.
But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.
His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.
As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.
He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.
“Zayne - I'm close”
“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.
'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'
You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.
You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.
You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.
‘I’m gonna come soon –‘
You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’
His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.
His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.
His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”
You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”
“I can show you later.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days
Text
if you want to use me, i could be your puppet
for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging
rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags
Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie didn’t think this through.
Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.
He did not want to have to deal with this right now.
He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.
How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.
The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.
“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.
Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.
Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.
Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.
“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”
“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”
“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”
And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.
He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.
“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”
Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.
His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.
Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.
But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.
“Steve, hey-”
“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”
“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.
“I am breathing.”
“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”
“I’m not sitting down-”
“Red.”
Steve froze.
Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.
He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.
“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.
“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”
“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.
“No. I’m not gonna leave.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” Eddie agreed.
They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.
Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.
“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”
“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”
“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”
“Steve, be serious.”
“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”
Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.
“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.
“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.
“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”
“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”
“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”
Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”
How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?
“You’ve got me?”
“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.
Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.
He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.
He already trusted him with everything else.
The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.
Steve pulled away, breathless.
“Will you?” He asked.
Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.
“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”
“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.
Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.
“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”
“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”
The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.
“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.
“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”
“Green, so green.”
“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”
Eddie had no choice but to look.
“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”
Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?
No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.
Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.
“Green.”
Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.
“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.
“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.
The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.
Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.
They were both impatient.
Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.
“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”
Steve didn’t waste another second.
His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.
It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.
He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.
“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.
Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.
Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.
“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”
And so it went.
Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.
Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.
He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.
Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.
He felt full, used.
“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.
The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.
Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.
“Green.”
“Good boy,” Steve praised.
Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.
“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”
At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.
“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.
“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”
Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.
He wanted to be good, but he was only human.
“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”
“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”
And Eddie did.
Just like that.
The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.
His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.
Steve was murmuring something against his hair.
When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?
How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?
“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”
Oh.
Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.
He’d think about that later.
For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.
He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.
Day five: ao3 | tumblr
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zchnlswrld · 14 hours
Text
(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS
🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite
if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!
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ATEEZ/MULTIPLE
Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀
opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧
↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?
Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥
HONGJOONG
Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓
Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀
To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥
Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀
Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓
↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone
SEONGHWA
The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧
↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible
let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT
no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥
bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥
↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release
cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓
checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀
the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥
YUNHO
Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥
opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥
↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release
what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)
PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)
something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧
↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding
Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)
↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!
entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧
YEOSANG
no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀
RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧
↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this
for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧
↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j
SAN
The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT
Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥
↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE
seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧
↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait
Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀
↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear
a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧
MINGI
Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀
↳ i did cry when i finished this
nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥
One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀
Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓
WOOYOUNG
Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥
Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓
change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓
place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧
↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl
If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀
JONGHO
so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧
↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now
killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓
glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓
zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧
↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this
20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓
the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧
↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID
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callsign-rogueone · 2 days
Text
older - b.s.
Brennan Sorrengail x younger!reader some thoughts about Bren + a sweet innocent younger partner!! [kinda requested] words: 1.9k 🏷: NSFW, descriptions of sex. no spoilers. afab “girl” reader who is younger than Bren. canonically, he’s 29-ish, and I’m implying the reader to be in her early 20s, and a scribe or healer, someone who isn’t combat-trained but is still part of the revolution. discussion of ethical concerns of a relationship like this, dom/sub dynamics in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, and traditional gender roles. I swear I’m a feminist woman in stem with career goals but it would be so nice to be his cute lil housewife 🥺 the daddy issues definitely came out here... oh well. that’s what the pseudo-anonymity of the internet is for, right?
Brennan can’t help but be drawn to you and your bright-eyed innocence, the genuine smile you give him every time you pass him by… the way you wear your uniform, playing things fast and loose + ditching the traditional robes for something more form-fitting and comfortable, especially during Tyrrendor’s hot summers… 
he struggles to stay composed every time you call him sir or Lieutenant Colonel — which is every time you speak to him, because you’re so sweet and respectful and eager to help him with whatever he needs, and it drives him absolutely insane because you don’t even seem to realize how captivated you have him. you’ve wrapped him around your manicured little finger without even trying. 
he resigns himself to suffering in silence because he knows this is wrong, that he’s your superior officer, that you’re closer to Violet’s age than to his, and there’s a clear maturity gap there — yes, you’re an adult, an officer in your own right, but a freshly graduated lieutenant who’s never seen combat and hopefully never will, and you clearly don’t have much relationship experience, either. 
he’s a good guy; he doesn’t want to take advantage of you in any way, especially because you’re so sweet and innocent… but he can’t live like this forever. it’s only a matter of time before he snaps, and snap he does. you do something incredibly stupid and dangerous — putting yourself at unnecessary risk, associating with someone who is only going to hurt you… whatever it is, as soon as he sees it, he’s forcibly removing you from the situation and ordering you into his office to give you a talking to, because he doesn’t want that happening again.
he’s stern with you, disciplining you how a Lieutenant Colonel should when something like this happens, but he’s especially upset because it’s you, because you put yourself in harm’s way. do you have any idea how dangerous that was? what could have happened to you, had he not intervened? 
he doesn’t realize how harsh he’s being until he sees that you’re crying. his heart breaks when you sniffle and nod and apologize with a quiet yes sir, those pretty eyes full of tears. he stops his lecturing to pull you into a warm embrace and apologizes for raising his voice at you, strokes your hair gently and promises that he’s only so stern because he cares about you, that this is for your own good, that he couldn’t bear to lose you or see you hurt.
you aren’t that close — this is the quite possibly the longest conversation you’ve ever had, because he can’t be around you for more than five minutes without needing to go splash some cold water on his face and give himself another lecture in the bathroom mirror about how wrong this is — but you already trust him so deeply, and believe his every word, you feel so warm and safe with him… you’d do whatever he asked.
it’s this kind of naïveté that landed you in that dangerous situation in the first place, but he’s not going to lecture you about it further, not when you’re this fragile, still hiding your face in his shoulder and sniffling quietly. he settles into his desk chair, sitting you in his lap and holding you for a while, murmuring soft assurances that you’re safe with him, and promises that he’ll take care of you. he’s so tender with you. dries your tears and mends any injuries you’d gotten, kisses your forehead… 
it’s clear that you need someone in your life to guide you and protect you from all the bad things in the world, to guard that sweet innocence. he’s happy to provide that for you, and you’re happy to be taken care of. but he’s still a little worried about taking advantage of you, because you’re not very experienced in the relationship department, and because you’ll have to keep this quiet for the sake of his reputation and yours. he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s a sleaze or that you’re sleeping your way to a promotion etc. but of course, those thoughts had never even crossed your mind — why would they?
it starts slowly, just him dropping by the infirmary/archives more often than usual to check on you, taking your lunch breaks together, spending some time with him outside of your responsibilities with the revolution, maybe some secret hand-holding and more cheek/forehead kisses, you hanging out in his office and reading quietly while he does his paperwork, because you just want to be close to him… 
you meet Marbh, which is a little scary, because you’ve never been that close to a dragon before, but Brennan holds your hand and reassures you that he’s nice, and you believe him, because Brennan is so gentle and kind with you that his dragon must be nice too. (he definitely asks Marbh to keep an eye on you when he can’t, and even though Marbh is the aloof, distant type, he agrees and takes the task seriously, because he knows how deeply his rider cares for you.)
slowly, and then all at once. you’re just too hard to resist — he’s wanted you for months, and he finally has you exactly where he wants you; curled up in his lap like a cute little kitten, all sweet and cuddly. gentle kisses quickly turn into something more heated because it feels so good, so much better than you’ve ever felt before. you’re so needy, more than you ever have been in your life, whimpering into his mouth and grinding your hips down onto his thigh subconsciously, desperate for more but too shy to ask for it properly.
he pulls away and tilts your chin up with a gentle hand, makes you look at him, makes you use your words, because he needs verbal consent from you before this can go any farther. you manage to tell him what you want in a shy whisper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he smiles at you, gives you one more soft kiss and then he’s leading you out of the office and up the stairs to your room because he’s not going to do this in his office — you deserve to be taken care of properly, in a nice, soft bed.
he shows you how a real man should treat you, pleasing you better than any idiot college boy your age ever could — gentle but thorough, no part of you left untouched or unkissed. he doesn’t even fuck you, just giving you his tongue and fingers, but it’s so good. the best sex you’ve ever had, without a doubt. he nearly busts right then and there when you tell him that, that you didn’t know it could feel this good, that nobody’s ever made you cum that hard, nobody’s ever gone down on you before… 
he spent another half hour eating you out after you told him that. he loves feeling your legs shake while he sucks on your clit, using a strong arm to hold your hips down against the mattress while you whimper and squirm. you taste so sweet and sound so pretty when you cum on his tongue… he just can’t get enough. 
of course, after he’s done, he’s scooping you into his lap for more cuddles and sweet kisses and reassuring words, telling you how good you were for him… you could have fallen asleep in his arms just like that, but he’s coaxing you up and out of bed to brush your teeth and put on real pajamas and get ready for bed before he tucks you in and kisses you goodnight, promising he’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.
he’s unbearably horny at this point, and definitely has to sort things out himself in the shower before he falls asleep. baby steps, he tells himself. baby steps.
there’s no question that you’re both deeply attached to one another, and you make things official, even though it has to be kept secret for both of your reputations’ sake. you don’t call yourselves girlfriend and boyfriend, because he’s getting a little old for that, but also because this relationship is a little different than most — you’re just his and he’s yours, no need for labels.
you call him Bren in that cute, breathless voice as he eases into you for the first time, holding his hand tightly, and his heart just melts. that’s the ultimate reassurance for him, that in your head, behind closed doors, he’s no longer your superior officer, he’s just your Brennan. he’s so tender and gentle with you, nice and deep and slow — truly making love rather than fucking, because he wants you to feel safe and warm and fuzzy, wants you to know that you can trust him.
and you do trust him, one hundred percent. you let him set some rules for you, mostly about you taking care of yourself and staying out of harm’s way, not straying too far from the fortress without him and/or Marbh… etc. you’re happy to follow them, because you know it’s for your own good, that Bren cares for you deeply, and you just adore the praise and soft kisses he gives you for being such a good girl… 
you slowly move in together after a while, because his room is nicer, and you love being able to fall asleep next to him, all safe and warm in his arms, and it’s so nice for him to have a soft, pretty little thing to come home to after a long day of preparing for war, someone to melt all his worries away with sweet kisses and to take care of him — no one has done that before, doted on him and prioritized his comfort and treated him so kindly, made sure he’s not overworking himself, worked all of the tension out of his shoulders and helped him take his stress out, if you know what I mean 🤭 
he is so genuinely caring and nurturing and makes you feel safe. he loves you so, so much. however, comma, he won’t hesitate to teach you the lessons you need to learn, the hard way, if he has to — edging you until you cry and promise to not break his rules again, until he’s convinced you mean it. he’ll always take amazing care of you after, giving you what you need, wether that’s soft, slow, loving sex, a rough and thorough fucking, or something in between. 
your relationship becomes a very poorly-kept secret around the fortress, but nobody really cares, or if they do, they don’t dare say anything about it,  not when Brennan is literally one of the three most powerful people in the entire revolution. he does not give a single fuck what anyone thinks about your relationship -- you love and support each other, and that’s what matters most. however, if anyone is stupid enough to make any negative remarks about it to you, and if he hears about it, they’ll find themselves getting assigned overnight watch or the worst tasks that absolutely nobody wants to do, for a full week with no explanation. 
that’s all I’ve got for now, but you know I am always down to discuss my main man, so please don’t hesitate to share with the class if you have any more thoughts about this or literally anything for any of our beloved riders 💗 muah.
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yesimwriting · 3 days
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I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)
hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics
omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way
anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!
----
thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.
but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.
so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.
every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.
would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.
you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.
you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.
he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.
you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.
helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.
nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.
he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.
you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...
"not last year, or last semester--"
he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"
your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.
nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."
he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.
you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"
"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."
you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."
it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"
"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"
the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.
"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."
"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"
"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."
"she gets paranoid."
no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."
"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."
you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.
"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"
you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.
when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.
----
lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))
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sophie-frm-mars · 14 hours
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Hi, ex-supporter here. Genuinely hope you’re doing well. I have been tempted to start up my support again because you genuinely are a talented writer/creator and I do enjoy your work.
I hope you understand supporting your Patreon is somewhat fraught. Your private life should be none of our business, but sadly it is relevant here. Moral action, both private and political is central to your work; you have called out plenty of people for abuse & morality drives your politics. We know abuse took place on your end, but that’s all.
A lot of people like myself might be emotionally rooting for you to bounce back from this, but are unable to support you right now because that moral dissonance has not been resolved. We really don’t know if you are like other ‘cancelled’ leftist influencers and just use leftist values to deflect attention away from abuse, or you are actually trying to do better and working on yourself.
You don’t owe us anything. However, many of us who are eager to support you are forced to hold back because trust has been damaged, and there has not been any real sign of reparation or reconciliation. Maybe you think those kind of questions are invasive, maybe you don’t think we are real fans for not sticking by you despite the allegations.
I don’t know, I just want you to know that there are plenty of people who do want to support you, but feel they need to trust you first. And that can’t happen without addressing some things.
Anyways, best wishes. Take care.
Hiya, thank you for speaking to me on this.
Before I say the rest of what I say I want to be clear that between me and the people I was involved with in 2023, there were some instances where I was responsible for harm, there were instances where I received harm and there was also a general pervasive ecosystem of harmful behaviours in the community I was in. This includes people who signed the statement against me, and in one instance one of them did something which everyone to whom I have described it has agreed is sexual assault, though there is more besides.
For the time being I'm not talking publicly more about what happened because it was a very messy situation, and although I have been seriously harmed by issues in my personal life being litigated in public in this way, I don't want to give my full account of my relationships with everyone involved because I don't want that type of harm to be done to other trans women. There are plenty of complicating factors as there often are in real life that social media isn't really capable of parsing. I have made it clear repeatedly that I am open to hearing anything that people involved want to say to me, and I talked in this post in January about that and about what I would be doing to ensure that I put in the work and make sure I don't cause harm like it again
https://x.com/sophie_frm_mars/status/1745414530455261531
I think that that post says everything I would like to say for now, although I regret saying I agree that my behaviour was abusive, because with more distance and perspective I don't think abusive behaviour was actually described to me.
As I understand it via the support that my therapist and friends have offered, my problems in 2023 were that: I wasn't taking my mental health seriously, I didn't learn good kink practice, I had very little appreciation of my own boundaries and when I shouldn't be doing something that someone asks me to do, and I was high basically all the time. I am in therapy and doing DBT and taking my mental health deadly seriously, I have done a huge amount of reading assigned by my therapist about kink, sex, relationships and mental health, I am working in an ongoing way on learning how to effectively communicate, know my boundaries and understand myself well enough to not be in the kinds of situations that risk harm, and I'm no longer high all the time.
(If anyone is interested in those book recs, so far I've read: Tomorrow Sex Will Be Good Again by Katherine Angel; The Right To Sex by Amia Srinivasan; Screw Consent (I hate this edgy title) by Joseph Fischel; Playing Well With Others; The Loving Dominant by John and Libby Warren; I Hope We Choose Love by Kai Cheng Thom; The New Topping Book by Dossie Easton and Janet W Hardy; and Dissociation Made Simple by Jamie Marich. There have been some others, and I've written a bit about them in the book club channel on my discord as I've been reading)
I haven't heard from the people involved. The last I heard from anyone was one of my exes calling me a pathological liar and saying that they just want to move on with their lives, so while I'm doing the work to make sure I act better in future I am just trying to get on with my life and let them get on with theirs. I hope this clarifies why I have not talked further about the situation.
I will say that the last few months have been hellish for me. I have been frequently suicidal, I spent Christmas and new years alone, I lost a tooth because I couldn't afford proper dental treatment, people from within the community I've been ostracised from have been putting pressure on my remaining friends to cut ties with me, Keffals had my abuser on her twitch stream, a bizarre exaggerated and monsterised version of my personal life has been publicly gossiped about by trans people, fash and "leftist" drama streamers alike, I have been doing other work to make sure I can still pay rent and afford my bills and my HRT, and to survive. As I've been getting more stable and more able to focus on things besides this, I've been working on new writing because all I want with regard to my work and my channel is for my writing to help people. I don't want to talk about my private life, but I do understand that some number of people will feel after what has been said about me that they can't move forward with me without hearing the full details. Lots of people in my life have repeatedly encouraged me to publish a full account of everything that happened but I know how the Internet works and I don't want other trans women to be harmed in the ways that I have been harmed.
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alittlebitofsainz · 2 days
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you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)
prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.
a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”
you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.
“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”
“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”
you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.
“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.
you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.
“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.
“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.
“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.
“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.
“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?
“we can still make this work, can’t we?”
you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.
“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.
“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”
the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.
“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”
you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.
“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.
“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.
“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”
it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.
a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.
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ataraxiaspainting · 3 days
Text
Old Friend.
Yan Kenjaku x F Reader x Yan Geto.
Synopsis: The stranger looks all too familiar, aside from three peculiar mannerisms. How his fingers creep along the table’s edge. How his voice is too soft, too kind, and not at all cruel. How there are black stitches on his forehead.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, misogyny, use of the word monkey, and descriptions of past physical/mental abuse.
Word Count: 900.
*~*~*~*
Flattery comes out from Suguru’s mouth one sentence at a time, the words themselves soothing but the tone not so. After being dressed in clothes you picked out, after being presented with food you loved before captivity, you feel as though you were just revived… reborn. This feeling is foreign and isn’t let into your heart all at once, but little bit by little bit, because you know that Suguru’s gifts are often never superficial, but you also know how fast Suguru’s temper can spew once he has had enough of your antics.
On your knees, that demand is always accompanied by Suguru’s pointer finger facing down to the floor, monkey.
Somehow that collar consistently finds its way into Suguru’s right hand, even without one of his servants giving it to him.
But yet, here and now, you don’t feel the same ominous aura. It’s something darker. Something that for once isn’t directed at you, but the servants Suguru always treated well. So, would that make his aura lighter? You’re not sure. Similar to when it comes to Suguru’s moods and false smiles and truthful lies, you don’t know what to think.
“Master Geto?” You ask, looking past him to the balcony exit behind him. With all the candles put on the table, his face looks nearly fully illuminated, but the shadow covering his eyes is still there regardless. 
“Yes, pet?” Suguru responds, his hands cupping his face as he looks at you. 
“I…” You start, your thumbs caressing one another underneath the long white tablecloth. “Just wanted to thank you… that’s all.”
Suguru chuckles at that. No. Not a chuckle per se. Some sound unknown to you, or perhaps the identity of such was forgotten by you after so many years of being here kneeling at his feet on the floor like a trained mutt. 
Speak.
I’m sorry, Master Geto.
Make it more desperate so I know you won’t make false vows unbefitting of my precious varmint. I’ll even help you. What happens when a dog attempts to hurt its owner?
“Don’t worry about it, [First] dear. You deserve a dinner such as this, for you deserve to celebrate too.” He has never said your name other than when he is displeased with you, so him doing such makes you wince. Suguru takes another sip of his sake, not paying much mind to your innate actions.
They get hit back, Master Geto.
Then what will happen to them next time, if they do it again?
Something will break.
“You look quite divine tonight,” He says, using his knife to split his remaining steak into quarters. He stabs one of the pieces with his fork and chews on it without making much noise.
“Uh…”
“Everything about you is quite beautiful… I can see you becoming my wife one day after all of this is over. That is, if you continue to be so cute and defenseless, it’s your place after all.”
What kind of thing? Speak up.
Anything. A bone… Something they like… Their spirit…
Correct… and what is that thing covering your hand?
“You’re not really eating, dearest… Is something the matter?” He asks. You find yourself questioning if Suguru's concern is genuine. After all, he has faked empathy towards you before, so this wouldn't be the first time.
“No, no… It’s good.” In order to avoid his anger, you proceed to fill your mouth with sake and sesame rice. This amuses him. Does he find your desperation endearing? That would be in character for him, now that you think about it.
A cast, Master Geto.
And what did you do to earn such a thing?
You… broke my hand, after I tried to use the pieces of that broken bedroom window to stab you.
“I’m happy you’re enjoying it.” He grins, leaning in closer. “I have an offer for you. How about we go outside for a walk after this? It has been quite some time since you have seen the full moon, hasn’t it?”
Finally, you can envision a vast expanse of twinkling stars right before your eyes. In the realm of dreams, they reside so near, immune to fading or descending. But you ponder if reality holds the same allure. It has been an eternity since you were last allowed to venture outdoors. Oh, how you yearn for a glimpse of the sky once more.
Tell me, do you think you earned such a thing?
…Yes.
Good. It seems you’re learning.
But the temptation stopped as fast as it came. Dread replaces it in an instant. 
This man isn’t Suguru. You know that much for certain. With every hell he has put you through, you have come to know him and his mannerisms. Those mannerisms are nothing like this man. The thought scares you. Is this man a curse, the same kind Suguru uses against you after every escape attempt? Or is he just a normal man who is acting like him as a placeholder of some sort?
Where… is Suguru?
“...Why are there stitches on your forehead?”
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lunaroserites · 3 days
Text
Art and Ice - Ground Rules
Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.
Summery: Bucky and Doodle spend some quality time together.
This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)
Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)
Word Court: 2859
Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️
Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3
Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ❤️
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You didn’t see Barnes the next day, which wasn’t surprising, it was Friday night after a win so celebration extended into the start of the weekend. Saturday was much the same, you toiled away in the art room in front of a large sketch pad trying to get something together while your canvas dried. 
You also had a small piece you were working on for a gallery wall you were doing for a local gallery that was happening once the semester ended. So your plate was full and adding the insistent nagging from your brain to find Barnes, your patience was wearing thin. 
You threw the paint brush at the sink, it sailed in a smooth arche before clattering in the paint covered sink. You ran your hands over your face and groaned as you leaned forward, elbows planted in the table. Your mind is running amuck and making you lose patience. 
“Doodle,” the new brush you were holding snapped in your tense grip as you looked up, startled. Barnes was standing at the door holding a bag that smelled delicious and your stomach growled. You may have forgotten to take a break and eat. 
“Barnes,” you said, your tone tense. His eyebrow quirked up as he walked in and placed the bag down a few feet away. 
“Are you okay,” your hand kinda hurt from snapping the brush a moment ago, and your head was killing you with a raging headache. Which might be because you haven’t eaten in a while or because you were thirsty. You took a deep breath and nodded. 
“Yeah, just a little stressed,” you answered. The smell of the food in the bag makes your mouth water and your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way. “What can I do for you?” 
“You weren’t at practice all weekend. Nat said you were hauled up in the art room,” he said nonchalantly, you just stared at him. “And I figured I would stop by and check on my favourite girl,” he said confidently, and you rolled your eyes in response. Your stomach decided that moment was the best time to make its presence known and grumbled loudly. Your cheeks immediately darkened in embarrassment. 
“And she said you most likely didn’t eat,” the look on his face caught you off guard, he had a look of genuine concern etched on his features. “She knows you well,” he mused, his tongue poked between his teeth as he winked at you. You leaned back against your chair and extended your hand and gestured to the chair across from you, prompting him to sit. He took a seat across from you and smiled. “I hope you like burgers,” he said as he pulled the bag over. 
“I don’t mind them, are they from Gus’s?” You asked, he nodded. 
“I wasn’t sure what you drank so I got water,” he added, pulling a couple water bottles out of his gym bag. You smiled and chuckled a little at how thoughtful he was being. 
“Waters fine,” you accepted the bottle and cracked it open and drank half it one go. He eyed you suspiciously and you gulped down hard. “I get lost in what I’m doing and sometimes forget to eat or drink,” you mumbled under his intense gaze. 
“That’s not healthy,” he muttered, pulling out a burger and handing it to you. You accepted and opened it up, taking a bite and biting back the moan you almost let out. 
“I know, but when I’m in the zone. I just don’t realise how much time passes,” you said softly, he nodded and you two ate the food in a comfortable silence. 
“Thank you,” you said as you threw out the garbage and sat back down. 
“No problem, can’t let ya starve,” he chuckled and rubbed his chin in his hand. “What’s ya working on?” He asked and looked at the few pieces shattered behind you and a shadow box a few feet away from you. 
“Uh, a project for an art exhibit once schools out,” you answered. 
“Mind if I work on some homework? It’s quieter here than my house,” you raised an eyebrow at him, that was unexpected. “What?” he asked. 
“Nothing, don’t mind me,” you said as you looked down to work on the piece for the shadow box. Your eyes drifted up every now and then as you observed him working on what looked to be some kind of science homework. 
His eyes wandered over your frame every now and then as he took in your look of complete concentration as you worked with a small piece of clay. He couldn’t help but appreciate the dedication you had toward your craft. 
“What are you working on?” You asked after some time. 
“Science homework,” he gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a deadpan expression. “It’s space stuff,” he answered. 
“What about space stuff?” You asked, genuine curiosity laced your tone. 
“I’m learning about stars,” he tilted the book he was reading, it was open to a diagram of a star. 
“Oh neat!” You took a closer look at the diagrams and then looked back at him. He was rubbing his neck with a sheepish look on his face. “I did a project a couple years ago on Saturn,” you pulled your phone out and showed him a picture. 
“Wow, you did a fantastic job,” he took your phone for a moment to get a closer look at it. “Wait, that looks familiar,” he looked up at you again. “That looks like the one in the observatory.”
“That’s because it is,” you chuckled. His eyes widened a little and his smile broadened. 
“I made out with a girl right next to it,” he chuckled and your smile dropped and you busied yourself with another piece of clay. 
“That’s great,” you forced out through the firm line your mouth was now set in. 
“Why do you do that?” He asked suddenly, noticing your immediate change in demeanour. You looked up and your eyes narrowed at him. 
“Do what?” 
“That? Get all closed off when I say something you don’t like,” he asked. 
“Because I really didn’t need to know you made out with a girl next to my art piece,” you stated. “I was told if I have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” 
“I’m not a child, I can handle criticism,” he defended. 
“That’s not the point. Have you ever once sat down and just chatted with a girl without the expectation of sex afterwards?” You asked, your tone very genuine. He sat back in his chair and looked anywhere but your face. 
“No. Not in a long time,” his answer caught you guard. You were expecting some snide comment or a lie. When you looked at his face, he looked completely sincere. You took a deep breath knowing the answer to the question you were about to ask. 
“Is that why you’re here now?” You didn’t recognize the voice that asked the question. It was soft and meek, nothing like your usual cadence. He didn’t answer right away, and based on the look on his face he didn’t really know what to say or how to answer. 
“Honestly,” he took a deep breath and looked at his hands. “Probably. Maybe. I don’t know. At first definitely. The first time I spoke to you it was. But I don’t know,” his rambling gave away how honest he was being. “I still want to,” he paused, “to still sleep with you. I also want to hang out with you. And get to know you.” 
You couldn’t help the slight upturn of your lip as you released a long inhale, “thank you for being honest.” 
“I might be a prick. But at least I’m an honest one,” he tried to joke. His smile dropped when you didn’t laugh. “So where does that leave us now?” 
“I don’t know Barnes. I don’t want to sleep with you. But I don’t want you to take that as a challenge to get me to sleep with you. If you truly want to be friends, and we get to know one another with no ulterior motives, then we can do that,” you didn’t want to sugar coat it. You also didn’t have the balls to admit you had a tiny crush on him because that would go straight to his dick and this conversation would be pointless. 
“Well to start you could start calling me Bucky, Barnes is so detached,” he gave you a small smile. 
“Well that was the point,” you chuckled. “But okay, Bucky.” His smile grew larger and he pumped his fist in the air. 
“I’m still calling you Doodle though,” he said, his tone serious as he stared at you. 
“That’s fine, I guess,” you chuckled while rolling your eyes at him. 
“So how much of my piece is finished?” He asked, you couldn’t help but laugh and pointed over your shoulder to the large canvas behind you. “That’s empty.” 
“I know. I have to get some practice sketches  done first before I paint on the big canvas,” you decided to not mention the two you ruined.
“Can I see the practice sketches?” He asked hopefully. 
“Sure,” you relented and passed the sketch pad over and watched him look at it. 
“How do you do that?” He asked, passing it back a moment later. 
“Draw?” You raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded. “I just do, it takes a lot of practice and effort. I could ask the same of you, how do you skate so effortlessly?” 
He smiled for a moment before answering, “I guess it’s the same. I just get on the ice and go. The moment I lace my skates up and I hit the ice everything else just fades away, it’s just me, my stick and the puck.” 
“For me, I pick up the pen, or brush and just start somewhere and get lost in it. It’s me, the brush and the canvas,” you finished. 
“Hey,” he was serious now, that caught your attention fully as you looked at him, “I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day…”
“Bucky,” you reached out and placed your smaller hand on his gently as you cut him off, “stop, it’s okay. We both said things that weren’t very nice. For what it’s worth.” You looked into his eyes sincerely, “I’m sorry too. It’s behind us now.” 
He smiled and nodded, “okay Doodle.” 
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That conversation was the catalyst to your developing and lively friendship with Bucky, when the team wasn’t travelling for the away games over the next week he would sit in the art room and do his homework while you worked on the art projects you had due. 
It was Thursday night, Bucky was just getting to the art studio after practice when he saw you hunched over your sketch pad, your hands in your hair and you were sniffling. He entered and quickly threw his gym bag down and came around the table and crouched down next to you. He placed his hand on your forearm, trying not to startle you too much. You jumped anyway since you didn’t hear him come in, you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice anything else.
“Doodle,” he said softly. “Everything okay?” You shook your head and slumped into his chest, that caught him off guard, he quickly wrapped his arms around you and hugged you back as you cried into his chest. As quickly as you collapsed into him you pulled back and shook your head. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out and placed your head in your hands. Bucky was a little stunned at how quickly your demeanour changed. 
“It's okay,” he stood and took his usual seat across from you. “Wanna talk about it?” You let out an exaggerated sigh and sniffled loudly. 
“My art professor is a bitch,” you groaned. “And I have a bunch more projects due and she’s just awful. If I didn’t need this course to graduate I would have dropped it.” You pressed your cheek against the table and closed your eyes. 
“What did she do?” Bucky asked.
“After class she decided to tell me she doesn’t know why I bother trying, and that the school was foolish to offer, a no talent, wannabe one of the only full ride scholarships offered for the arts,” you were crying again. You had spent years honing your craft, and fought tooth and nail for the scholarship that allowed you to attend school here. 
“She’s probably just jealous,” you laughed at that, Nat had said the same thing when you texted her earlier about what happened. 
“I have an appointment with the head of the department tomorrow afternoon. This isn’t the first time she’s been awful to me,” you didn’t see his fist clench and the momentary anger flash across his face as you said that. 
“I wouldn’t listen to her Doodle,” Bucky reached across the table and patted your arm gently. “Your art is awesome, and you’re incredibly talented,” he finished. You smiled against the table and lifted your head up to send him a thankful look.
“Thanks Bucky, that means a lot,” you sighed and whipped your eyes with the back of your hand and rolled your shoulders. “I got some stuff done on your portrait,” you said, your voice still a little coarse, but you felt a lot better. His face lit and his full attention was on the covered canvas behind you. You stood and pulled the cover off and showed him, you had some of the out lining done, the positioning and scale perfect. You felt very proud of it so far. 
“Holy shit Doodle,” Bucky stood and got closer to admire the outlining. “You know, once this is done, you should get them to let you display it in the sports annex,” he had a smug tone as he said this. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. 
“Maybe if you bat your eyelashes at the department head, and ask him really nicely, he’ll let me,” you bumped your hip into his and smirked up at him. He smiled down at you and the softness in his eye made your heart skip a beat, you quickly cleared your throat and moved from him to grab a pencil. 
“I’m going to work my homework, and stay out of your way,” Bucky said softly as he moved from your side to sit down again. You smiled looking down at your feet before you started to do some more outlining. 
His eyes would shift from his homework every so often and they would rove over your body. He knew he didn’t have a shot in hell at getting you to agree to sleeping with him, you made that clear and he was really trying to make sure he kept that at the forefront of his mind when he was around you because he really did want to be friends with you.
But those leggings you wore hugged the curve of your ass so perfectly it was making it difficult. He felt his mouth dry out a little as he watched you rock from side to side as you drew on the canvas, and he involuntarily let a low whistle when you stretched up and exposed some of the soft skin of your back. 
You immediately turned and looked at him with a raised brow and squinted at him, full judgement. “Barnes,” you were warning him, he raised his hands up in surrender. 
“Not my fault you look amazing, it's a crime,” he defended himself with a cocky tone. You couldn’t stop the blush that crawled up your neck and on to your cheeks. 
“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, turning your back to him again, the blush still strong on your cheeks. He laughed loudly, before going back to his homework. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face, you knew he used that line on countless girls, and it was probably a line he used often to get in their pants, but damn he was such a smooth talker, and he said all the right things in the right tones. You hated that you longed for his compliments. 
It was quiet for a while longer, just the sounds of pencils on paper and canvas filling the air.   
“Hey Doodle,” you hummed in response, not wanting to look away. “There is a final game just before playoffs, it's here, do you think you’ll come?” 
“I thought Nat said you guys were done with the home games now,” you still didn’t look at him, trying to make sure your scale was correct. 
“This one isn’t a regular season game, but I think you’ll really enjoy it,” he was being incredibly cryptic about whatever it is. You turned now, and raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Then what is it?” You asked as you eyed him. 
“Surprise, but I promise you’ll love it,” he sounded so earnest that you couldn’t help but believe him. 
“Okay,” I chuckled. “I’ll go,” you relented, trying to hide your genuine excitement. 
Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana
Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list ❤️
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etherealising · 3 days
Note
One more request/ask this time for aiekoy 🍑/🐻/🧡 could you write something on if baby and carm would get together if Mikey were still alive? Or just if they would cross paths and still never say anything? If you’re up to it if not no biggie- again congrats on 1k!🥳
ohhh i love this so much, giggling because i get to play with aiekoy cannon and i am living for it. gonna be honest i don’t even remember writing most of this but it is chaotic and i actually kinda love it.
this was going in so many different directions before this became my final thoughts, thank you for requesting and please enjoy!! 🫶🏽
warning(s): addiction | violence |
mikey lives, does barby?
in this scenario the only ‘aiekoy’ chapters that would still be canon are ch. 1-3, interlude 0-1 and any pre-aiekoy lore that i may not have published yet 🫣.
and for the sake of consistency, we’re throwing all ‘the bear’ canon out the window!
but now is where we start to change things, so we’ll say baby moves back to Chicago beginning of 2019 Christmas showed you just how much you missed being around your surrogate family and so we kiss the west coast goodbye.
and with baby back in town the trio (baby/nat/richie) with all the time they spend around mikey begin to realize like he needs serious help. his deterioration is so clear to anyone who looks at him that if things don’t change soon we all know what’s gonna happen.
it's a bit of back and forth cause mikey is stubborn as hell and he definitely doesn’t take kindly to his addiction being called out. man is feeling cornered right now.
i don’t think mikey would just agree to rehab out of nowhere, growing up as the man of the house i think he definitely has some underlying issues with toxic masculinity.
something big would have to happen for him to see the error of his ways like baby finding him just strung out in his office at the beef pills scattered everywhere and of course, it hurts you to see him this way.
so you begin like trying to dispose of the pills, searching his office for anything more and lecturing him because you love him ya know. obviously reasoning with an addict hardly if ever works.
sadly to say i think it would get a bit physically violent like mikey kind of just lashes out just like grips baby by the arms, and pins you to the wall so hard it alerts the staff.
and it's an ugly scene as richie pulls him off of you. you’re just standing there glued to the wall scared shitless as richie holds himself back from beating the shit out of mikey.
nat gets wind of the whole situation i feel like tina would definitely call her because wtf is going on with mikey?
a few weeks later baby’s distant with mikey, richie is genuinely physically disgusted anytime he’s around his best friend, and nat bless her heart is just trying to keep the family together. she explains what happened to mikey between the two of you because his memory is spotty and the man just breaks down like heaving sobs as he asks nat to help him get better.
they decide a long-term stint in rehab might work best, considering how long he’s been using and the toll his psychological state has taken we’ll say a 6 month program that as it progresses the whole gang will be involved in family counseling sessions.
baby and richie obviously go with nat to drop mikey off setting aside their issues with him (you obviously haven’t forgiven his transgression yet but you want to be there for him) and the whole thing is so emotional i’m talking group hug full of sobs and snot this shit is heartbreaking. but mikey’s adamant that he wants the help.
baby definitely thinks someone should tell carmy but both richie and nat are iffy about it and they table that conversation for the time being.
fast forward a few months mikey is in rehab detoxing and participating in counseling sessions, they aren’t allowed to contact him yet but they do get weekly updates on his well-being.
baby is in new york for work profiling executive chef alex johannes (he didn’t have a name in the show so now he does) about his work ethic and michelin stars or some shit.
he invites you to the restaurant hours before the dinner service so you can observe him and the kitchen during prep and this man is laying the charm on thick!
he’s definitely scummy and you’re genuinely fed up with him so you tell him you need to walk around to get a feel for the kitchen but you just want to be rid of him.
you’re doing your cute journalist thing taking notes, trying to talk to chefs about what the kitchen environment is like working under alex but these people are giving you nothing!
there’s a commotion at one of the prep stations and you’re obviously curious the whole kitchen is trying to pretend they aren’t watching this shit go down.
and you’re just listening to this poor chef get verbally abused as they’re working on their prep, jotting all this down in your little notepad.
but the sight of the chef slamming a cutting board against the counter has you flinching and you just can’t let that happen irritation radiating through you at this bully you’ve been assigned to profile.
you’ve seen enough stepping up to defend the poor chef with a few choice words to the older man ultimately getting in a verbal argument with him and being sent out of his kitchen, but not before he makes the poor chef join you, and whatever bravado you had to rip that asshole a new one is gone as carmen fucking berzatto begins walking in your direction shoving past you to get to the staff lounge.
what are the fucking odds that you end up at the same exact restaurant carmy works at after being ghosted by him again that one christmas. (I’d say they’re great since I’m writing this)
you’re standing there in shock for a minute before turning on your heel to find the man.
he’s pacing back and forth hand pressing into the space where his heart lay. as soon as he sees you he’s hurling questions your way; “what the fuck are you doing here?” “why the fuck couldn’t you just mind your business?” “he didn’t need your fucking help.” blah blah blah.
your anger from earlier is back and you’re just like alright bet “guess it’s still fuck me right carm?” grabbing your bag and getting the fuck outta dodge.
you don’t make it far before carmy finds you, the man doesn’t apologize but he asks you to stop by when he gets off.
you’re a loser for carm so you do. he’s takes you back to his place, it’s awkward as fuck but you finally give in and tell him about what’s going on in Chicago, mikey’s addiction, the “fight” you had with mikey at the beef, him being in rehab.
and carmy is surprised as fuck, to say the least, he tells you that he’s miserable in new york. feels like the restaurant might kill him before his anxiety ever could.
neither of you are sure how any of it happens but the next thing you know you’re naked under him giving into pent-up desires, promises whispered into each other’s skin.
you can’t stay in new york forever but the both of you decide it is for the best not to start anything with all the distance between you.
you try talking carmy into moving back to Chicago and homeboy actually gives it some thought.
after that the two of you are in constant contact like not a day goes by without a phone call or text.
you’re back in chicago mikey’s been doing good in rehab, the family counseling sessions are going well. next thing you know his 6 months are up and he’s out.
you talk carmy into visiting for a bit, he and mikey def have things to work out.
surprise surprise, COVID hits carmy gets stuck in Chicago (man is not complaining though if that means he gets to see you)
you get a roommate who doubles as a lover and everything goes from there!!!
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a/n: reading this is so chaotic it actually made me giggle. on a serious note in no way am i saying all addicts are violent or have violent tendencies but from my experiences that has been the case. also i think canonically (7 fishes ep) that mikey did have violent tendencies whether it be the drugs or not.
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riminiscensce · 8 hours
Text
I CAN SEE YOU ִ ࣪𖤐
Wriothesley
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SYNOPSIS … “and we keep everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like.” “and I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission.”
NOTES … happy ttpd day (was hurt when listening to robin and peter)
CONTENTS … sfw , romance , slight angst , minor kissing scene , mentions of power difference , gender neutral reader
Word Count … 1469
Genshin Impact (Taylor’s Version) Masterlist
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Feelings and work never go well together. Wriothesley knows that better than anyone and does exactly what he should be doing; avoid mixing the two together.
Matters in the fortress were already quite a lot to bear, a lot can be added with something such as personal affairs. He doesn’t play into favorites, the idea of it was unfair and overall cruel to think about from an outside perspective.
He doesn’t want anyone in his workplace to paint him as something so horrid as that. It was all to avoid internal conflicts between the work environment of meropide to ensure things go as smoothly as possible.
As much as Wriothesley does what should be done; he also does what shouldn’t even be considerable in this environment.
He only realized this when he found himself paying more attention to another person rather than the rest. If anyone were to read his thoughts, he would defend himself that he genuinely tries to not further it more.
But sometimes when you gesture to each other a small nod along the hallways, Wriothesley really can’t help but think what would happen if it were more than that. More than just simply respect out of a higher up. Whaf would it be if it were something personal.
So he starts watching you; he watches your cooperation with the other guards, your assistance towards the convicts, and even the way you'd sometimes slip in the slippery, wet pipes during your shifts.
But he should’ve given you more credit, not realizing how easily you must have spotted his watchful eyes. He hears you hum, “His grace being out of his office at this time of the day, has something happened?”
“Yes, well…” he ponders for a while. “I thought I heard an explosive.”
“Ah,” Wriothesley looks at your confused expression, somehow noting how level-headed you are. “That's odd, I haven't heard nor felt anything of the sorts…”
If it were anyone else hearing Wriothesley's words just then, they would have panicked at the word “explosive”, yet he felt like laughing a bit at how you weren’t that. “Maybe it was just in my head,”
“Hallucinating? May e you should visit Miss Sigewinne.” Despite your words that were meant to deliver worry, it felt indifferent to your normal tone; something level-headed and calm.
Wriothesley immediately rejects the idea, somehow convincing you that he didn’t feel any headache of any sorts.
“If not, perhaps you just need a meal?” You smile at his stubbornness regarding this hallucination of his, to which Wriothesley felt slightly embarrassed that he let someone think that he’s starting to lose his mind.
“That's probably it,” He admits, shaking off the sudden tension he felt with his previous actions. “Then join me for lunch? you’ve been working for a while,”
“Ah, so his grace was watching me. Thank you for confirming.”
Now he felt genuinely caught.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Ever since the first time Wriothesley has ever gotten to speak to you properly outside of professional matters, he has been talking to you a whole lot in and out of his office.
Whenever you would get suspicious of his sudden visitations during working hours, he’d always excuse himself to merely seeing how everyone was doing and that you weren’t the only one he’s seeing. Which at first you found to be believable.
If it weren’t for the outside glances, you would have kept believing that.
It didn’t take long for the quiet rumors to turn into loud ones, which bothers Wriothesley. Has his “i don’t play favorites” persona died?
He wonders if he should stop making cuts in his schedule to see you. If this word continues to spread, who knows what mistreatment you might receive from both the convicts and the guards. He grumbles at the thought.
But he always seemed to give you less and less credit, he remembers just that when you were the one who felt more astray from him. The one who was supposed to treat you indifferently was the one being treated indifferently, by you.
Sharing a conversation with each other starts to happen rarely and eventually never, and if it did happen it would have been kept short and professional.
Lunch breaks were once again spent inside his office, all by himself with only stacks of paperworks to accompany him instead of your calm musings.
Passing by one another in the hallway felt wrong. You merely send a simple nod to him, like how you would to another one of your coworkers.
Sometimes, Wriothesley just hopes that you weren’t so nonchalant about it all. He just hoped that you weren’t thinking that it was for the best for the both of you, and his title. He just wonders if it doesn’t bother you how you two never talk the same way before?
He only wished that you would come knocking in his office, claiming that you had missed your shared talks with one another. How you’d missed the lunches you shared together. How you had missed him.
What would he do if it ever happens?
“Your grace?” Wriothesley turns to see you, in his office. Just you and him in his office. “I’ve been knocking for a while and thought you were asleep so,”
Why are you here? Did his unspoken wishes somehow come true? it felt stupid and childish but really, Wriothesley felt amused by the thought of it.
“I was sent to deliver these.” Ah, he watches as you pile some files on the table. So that's why.
“Thank you,” You were done with your task, but neither you and him did nor say anything.
Which somehow felt weird considering you two haven’t properly talked for a while.
“You should…” You drag out with a smile, “Get some sleep.”
He returns your smile, the way it would usually be. “Don’t worry, I usually nap every so often.”
“I meant sleep, Wriothesley.”
He likes the way you say his name.
“Those are two different things.”
He knows— well he does now that he was reminded of it. “Surely you knew what you did,”
“Would you like me to address you as ‘your grace’?”
“Not really,” It was almost embarrassing how he responded immediately to your question, as if offended that you would even ask him that.
You laugh at this, and he figures that he likes the way your voice echoes in his empty office.
“You should be leaving now.” Yes, you should be.
“I should,” So why aren’t you leaving? “I simply want to apologize.”
He stays silent, reading his quietness as a way of asking why.
“I shouldn't have indulged in those conversations of ours, I wouldn't want to ruin your image.” Usually he would like your words, but he finds himself hating the way you were apologizing as if it was your fault for his self-indulgent behaviors. And to top it off, he felt put-off at the way you said it so formally.
“That was my decision,”
“I know,” You say. “I still feel the need to apologize.”
“Why?”
“Considering you’re my boss and the longer we talk in a personal manner the more it would lead to unfairness. Something you don’t really… like.”
You’re right. He doesn't really like unfairness, usually playing by fair laws more than anything. And with this… relationship, the power difference between you two felt very apparent.
“You’re right,”
You nod.
It was easy to find yourself out of Wriothesley’s office after that conversation. Because it made sense. It was fair.
But none of those happen when you are up against the wall with him, feeling your lips numb and sting from the rough kisses of his own. If you were to allow him, he would bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.
But that doesn’t happen, instead his hands find their way under your jaw, nudging your head upwards so he can taste you better. Both you can only hope that no one else trudges inside of his office in the middle of the night.
He should probably stop, you should also maybe stop. But the echoes of your breathy huffs from the kiss and his desperate grunts felt too addicting to intervene. It would feel wrong to stop when you two had gotten too far.
Oh, what would the others say when they found out that you’d been smuggling up to the boss? You’d be lying if you were to say that the thought doesn’t bother you.
Somehow, Wriothesley interrupted the moment by pulling away yet still too close to have you feel his breath against your bruised lips. “Behave and don’t tell anyone.”
You laugh, maybe because both of you know better that he was the one who needed to be told to behave.
From that time and every night in his office, it was all a secret.
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rimi’s notes …
if it wasn’t obvious enough, i am not used to writing rough kiss scenes. (kissing scenes in general but i try) very sorry haven’t updated this for those who were looking forward to it😭 once i finish writing thoma’s, hopefully the schedule would return back hhh
Next in line would be Thoma for RED!
hearts / reblogs / follows are very much appreciated ★
Hey Stephen by Venti (previously) ִ ࣪𖤐 Stay Stay Stay by Thoma (coming soon)
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coraniaid · 1 day
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I read this post the other day and now I can't help but try to plot out a S3 AU in which Gwendolyn Post is just a little more patient (and maybe, as a result, she's not yet managed to get herself expelled from the Watcher's Council, so she doesn't have to worry about being exposed as a fraud the minute Rupert Giles thinks to make a single phone call).
A world where Gwen realizes that having unlimited access to a emotionally unstable teenage Slayer with no friends or family in town -- a Slayer who will do almost anything for the smallest scraps of positive attention from an even vaguely maternal authority figure -- might, on balance, be more beneficial to her personal quest for power and magical treasure than immediately burning all her bridges to steal a metal glove that can't ever be taken off and continually casts a spell that summons lightning directly down on to the person wearing it.  
Put yourself in Mrs Gwendolyn Post's shoes. 
Isn't it much smarter to keep playing the part of the stern but genuine Watcher, a part you did after all train for for years of your life -- and maybe quietly help yourself to a few of the more valuable magical items your Slayer happens to bring you on the side -- than to risk it all for one single prize, however rare?  If, with just a little molding and prodding and some barbed compliments now and then, you can get that teenage girl to go out and kill demons and steal all their stuff and bring it all back to you, no questions asked, where's the harm?  All you have to do is keep making sure she remembers that she's fundamentally unlovable and unwanted and that nobody else but you will ever accept her and the best she can ever hope for is your occasional fleeting and conditional praise, as long as she does what she's told and keeps it all a secret.  Half of that is taken verbatim from the Council's own script for enlisting new Slayers anyway. It'll be easy.
Maybe you tell her how impressed you are that she's training throughout the winter, rather than letting herself get distracted by things like holidays or parties or presents. Tell her some half-true story about the focus and determination of long-dead Slayers before her.  (You can go to all the parties you want, of course.  These rules don’t apply to you.)  Maybe you show up at her motel room briefly later, just to make sure she didn't take up that irritating other girl's unexpected offer to go to her house for dinner.  Maybe you reward her dedication to the cause with some little unimportant bauble; something cheap and meaningless you notice she keeps wearing for weeks afterwards, even if she pretended not to be impressed with your gift at the time.  Maybe you stick the crappy little (obviously shoplifted) presents that she nervously watches you unwrap later in a drawer somewhere and never think about them again.
Maybe you give her a little bit of advance warning about the Cruciamentum. Not early enough she can tell anyone else, of course, but early enough that she's ready for it. Not because you care (and you really don’t; she's an easily manipulated idiot and you don't respect her in the slightest), but because you want her to realize that the rest of the Council can't be trusted. That Mr Giles can't be trusted.  That there's only one person in all the world who she can trust.  
And if one night she shows up at your door uninvited to tell you that she killed an innocent man by mistake (you really don't care about this either), and she doesn't have anyone else to turn to (you try not to make it too obvious how pleased you are about that), then ... well, what an opportunity for you.  Obviously you're not going to let anyone else on the Council know about this: maybe they'd take her back to England, wasting all your hard work. Maybe they'd send a new Watcher to interrogate her.  But the Sunnydale police department aren't exactly competent.  You can make it all go away, you tell her.  And you do. 
But you let her know, subtly -- just not too subtly -- how disappointed you are by her carelessness.  How she'll have to work a lot harder from now on to get back into your good graces.  How you've really risked a lot for her tonight (you haven't) and how much she owes you now.  How you'll expect her to do better from now on (or at least to do more, more often, without ever asking inconvenient questions).
The disgrace was almost getting caught, you'll tell her later. That's what you found so deplorable. The mistake was needing to be bailed out.  There’s no excuse for sloppiness.  Killing some idiot who got in the way while the Slayer was doing her job though … well, Faith’s right to think that he wasn’t important.  He didn’t matter.  Oh, and the Sunnydale natural history museum is hosting an exhibit of a few rare magical objects next week that it would probably be best to keep in safe hands.  (Which is to say, of course, your hands.)  You don’t think Buffy or Giles need to know about it, do you, Faith? It would be best to be discreet about securing the necessary items, but if some idiot happens to get in the way, well...
There's no real risk of Faith being tricked into outing herself, the way she was tricked into revealing she was working for the Mayor in canon, because it's not a secret that Gwendolyn Post is Faith's Watcher.  Faith is supposed to listen to her Watcher, isn’t she?  And if her Watcher tells Faith to kill some demon and bring her the valuable books he was trying to sell, why shouldn't Faith do it?  Killing demons is her job, isn't it?  She’s good at killing things.  Good at stealing things, too, it turns out. Sometimes you don't even have to pretend to be impressed.
If Faith seems increasingly sad and withdrawn all the time, why do you care? It doesn't make her any less useful. And if Faith doesn't talk to anyone much anymore, and keeps some of her missions secret from her fellow Slayer and all of that other Slayer's little friends and hangers-on, what's so strange about that?  They're not Faith's friends, after all. None of them are.  Faith doesn't have friends.  Never needed them.  She's got somebody though.  She's got Mrs Post.
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gaylordscooter · 2 days
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Tipping the Balance
When Blue woke up it was three in the morning. The room was sweltering. The one time he decided to sleep over at Dream’s place of course the thermostat decides to stop working correctly.
He could hear the heater on blast. He got up from the bed, accidentally kicking Ink off of it.
“What the hell?!” Ink whispered a shout, pushing himself up from the ground.
Blue refrained from screaming. “What were you doing on my bed? You have your own room,” he whispered back.
Ink’s eyelights darted from side to side mischievously. “I wanted to be there in case you had a nightmare.”
“Why lay down on my legs?!”
“There's not that much room on your bed.”
“Then don't go on it!”
“Y’know, whispering kinda defeats the point when you're being as loud as possible while doing it.”
Blue massaged his nasal bone. He felt like he was talking to a child. “I don't suppose you're the one that messed with the thermostat?”
Ink looked at him like he was crazy. “The thermostat’s normal, dude.”
Blue gestured at the air in the room. “It's hot as hell in here!”
“Oh.”
Blue face-palmed.
“Nah, that's not the heater’s fault. It's not even on right now. The air conditioning’s the thing making all the noise,” Ink pointed out.
Blue tilted his head. “Why’s it so hot then?”
Ink’s expression tightened as he winced. His eyelights switched shapes and colors rapidly as he started thinking. They finally stopped changing once they switched back to his default blue and yellow combination. “Stay here, or actually.” He painted a portal on the ground with his scarf. “Go here.”
He stared through the portal, recognizing the area it led to. “At Cross’s place?”
“Yup!” Ink tried kicking him into it. Only for Blue to stumble over it instead.
He regained his balance and turned to Ink with a frown. “Tell me what's going on,” he demanded.
“Nothing’s happening!” He waved his hands.
“I don’t even need to read your eyelights to know that's a lie.” He crossed his arms.
Ink groaned, rolling his eyelights. “You're so much nosier than the other Blue!”
“And now you're bringing him up! What's your deal, Ink?”
He was sweating. He looked genuinely stressed now, or maybe it was because of the heat. “It's a thing okay!” he blurted.
Blue’s sockets widened. “Thing” was their way of saying “there's something coming up in a script that I can't change” ergo, they couldn't talk about it because it risked someone else changing it. Regardless, he still asked “Do I get hurt?”
The purple in Ink’s sockets indicated fear. “I don't know.”
“Can you at least tell me who’s involved? And why is it so hot!?”
They heard a loud screech, akin to a hawk. At the same time, the roof of the house was ripped off and blown away as something rose up into the sky.
It looked like a shooting star with two pairs of wings.
It hurt to look at.
“What. Is. That?” Blue asked, using his arm to shield his eye sockets from the blinding light. The temperature in the house immediately dropped as it got further away. He hoped Dream was oka—
“That's Dream,” Ink finally said right as Blue pieced it together.
Blue made eye contact with Ink, looking horrified.
“The balance between positivity and negativity was tipped in his favor,” he muttered.
It sure didn't look like it was doing Dream any favors with how he was basically on fire.
“We have to go.” He pointed at the portal that was still open.
“But—”
“We can't help him! The best we can do is minimize the damages.”
Blue furrowed his brow bones. “Minimize the damages? We’re in the Doodlesphere right now! He can access any universe.”
“Minimize the damages to ourselves! Just come here!” Getting impatient, Ink grabbed Blue by the arms and jumped into the portal with him.
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