#I’m obsessed unsure if that comes across

[noodles-and-tea]

I love your merthur art style, it captures them so beautifully!!! ❤️❤️❤️

THANK YOU!!!

[keepingitformyself]

there’s been no way for me to say (that i felt a certain way)

Synopsis: natasha romanoff has loved you for ages and she could never seem to get it right.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: college AU, fluff and angst.

warnings: angst?

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha met you in a very peculiar way.

it started at a friends of a friends party, in some internet starlet’s brooklyn loft.

drinks were going around, the music was loud, the smell of marijuana was very strong. she doesn’t quite remember it— after having been to a bunch of parties they all seem to blur into one— but she knows it was enough to leave a lasting impression on her.

she’d heard your piercing laugh from across the room. you, in a tight tank top and some black slacks. she could see the shine of sweat against your skin, the colorful lighting of the room making you seem so beautifully human.

everything sort of froze in the coming moments. she watched as you took your top off without a second thought. you were about to shotgun a beer and you stood tall as you did it atop the kitchen island. you didn’t need the attention, nor did you want it, but you had it.

it was a simple behavior. but it stayed with natasha long after you had crushed the beer can and tossed it on the floor somewhere.

natasha thinks you never notice her staring for the rest of the night but you do.

weeks later she sees you again at another party.

clint, wanda, tony and everyone else joins her this time. she isn’t surprised when she sees you. it was the same crowd, similar friend groups. but this time you made it easy for her to approach you.

somehow you end standing next to eachother near where all the drinks had been laid out.

"hey," you said, voice casual but warm. "didn’t expect to see you here again."

natasha smiled, though she hadn’t expected to talk to you at all. nor did she think you noticed her. "i guess we have similar taste in parties."

you laughed lightly. “guess so."

there was a beat of silence before you added, “you know, you were kinda staring at me last time.”

natasha froze for a second, unsure how to respond. she hadn’t thought you’d noticed. but before she could stammer out an excuse, you were already grinning.

“i’m just messing with you. it was funny. i didn’t think anyone would care enough to notice me.”

natasha was relieved, yet still unsure if you were actually joking. either way she felt this was going better than she planned.

the night wore on and you guys carried easy conversation. natasha was still unsure how to even approach talking to you. she felt kind of shy. so she improvised by making references to things she didn’t think you’d get, but you almost always did.

you dropped a reference to something obscure, a movie natasha had once obsessed over, and natasha stared at you for a moment longer than was socially acceptable. she couldn’t stop herself.

“you’re really into that, huh?” she said, and just like that, the bond started to form. it wasn’t immediate or instant, not the kind of connection that screams “best friends forever.” no, it was something stranger, something subtler, like two different puzzle pieces that had almost fit, only to get pushed back together by sheer happenstance.

“your references are spot on.” you laughed. natasha smiled at how easy you made it for her to be around you.

you and natasha started seeing each other more, slowly building this weird, unspoken routine. she’d text you at random, making some kind of sarcastic comment or joke only you would get, and you’d shoot back a meme that only someone with your specific sense of humor would understand. over time, you both ended up in the same circles, passing each other in the hallways of the university, at class, at parties—always just a little bit more than acquaintances, but never quite crossing into the territory of “best friends.”

there was something comfortable about it. easy, even. but for natasha, it was also strange. the more she saw you, the more she felt like there was something else there, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge. maybe it was a crush. maybe it was more than that.

it wasn’t as though either of you had been completely oblivious to the passing of time, to the fact that you were both growing older, moving through college with the same bittersweetness that everyone else felt. and yet, there was still this distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you had broken down.

natasha thought about you a lot more than she’d like to admit. how she so badly wanted to cross the line between friendship and something more.

by senior year, natasha couldn’t ignore it anymore. her feelings for you weren’t just fleeting glances or passing thoughts. they were there, constant, sitting beneath her skin, running through her mind like a song she couldn’t shake. but it wasn’t just a crush. it was more. she could feel it. she knew it.

the desperation kept getting worse.

it was a slow burn.

you were months set from graduating, natasha felt it was time she’d try to test her luck.

it was late into the evening at yet another party—music blaring, laughter echoing through the crowded living room, and cups of cheap beer littering the tables. one last semester before graduation, before the "real world" set in. natasha was sitting on the couch, leaning against the back with her legs stretched out in front of her. her eyes roamed the room, scanning for someone to talk to. and then she saw you.

you were in the middle of a conversation with clint and wanda, your hands animatedly gesturing as you told some wild story about a disastrous trip to the beach, the kind of tale that had everyone in stitches. natasha couldn’t help but smile from across the room. there was something magnetic about you—how you lived so fully, how you pulled everyone into your orbit without even trying. natasha had been watching you for months now, always on the edge of your space, always wishing she could be more than just a silent observer.

she didn’t know when it started—when the simple admiration had turned into something else. but now, as she watched you laugh with your friends, something in her chest tightened. this wasn’t a crush she could just ignore.

it wasn’t the first time natasha had thought about asking you out. but tonight felt different. maybe it was the proximity of graduation, the sudden realization that this was it—that you both were on the brink of leaving behind this chaotic, unmoored time in your lives. she could either stay on the sidelines or take the chance.

she stood up, smoothing out her jacket and walking across the room. her friends—clint, wanda, and sam—noticed her approaching and exchanged knowing glances, all but daring her to make a move. natasha could feel the weight of their stares, but she ignored them. she focused only on you.

"hey," she said, stepping into the conversation, a little breathless from the nerves she’d kept hidden.

you turned, giving her that warm smile you always did. "hey, nat! what’s up?"

"not much, just wanted to, uh, ask you something," natasha began, her usual confidence faltering just a little.

“i was thinking about heading to this bar later, just to get away from all… this,” she gestured vaguely to the party around them, “and i was wondering if you wanted to join me? for drinks. just us. you know, before we all get caught up in the whole graduation mess.”

it was casual, maybe too casual. but natasha didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal. not with everyone watching.

there was a pause, just a beat too long, before you looked at her, a faint frown pulling at your brow. you were processing. “uh,” you hesitated, glancing at your friends.

clint, wanda, and sam all turned their heads at the same time, giving you the slightest raise of their brows. you bit your lip, clearly unsure, and natasha’s heart sank a little at the hesitation.

"i mean," you said slowly, looking back at natasha. "we’re friends, nat. i just… i’m not sure."

it was a gentle rejection, but it stung all the same. natasha swallowed, masking her disappointment with a shrug. "no, yeah, of course. no pressure." she let out a quiet laugh, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, trying to laugh it off. "i was just messing with you. don't worry about it."

you nodded, a small, apologetic smile on your lips. "i mean, i’d love to hang out more, just—"

"totally fine," natasha interrupted, her voice light but edged with something that made her own heart ache. she smiled, keeping it neutral. "maybe some other time."

she turned away quickly, but she felt your eyes on her as she walked back to the couch, her friends watching the entire scene unfold. clint raised his brows, and natasha just shook her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply that small exchange had affected her.

but inside, it stung. it stung more than she cared to admit. it wasn’t just a small rejection. it was the fear that maybe you had noticed her feelings all along and were just too scared to say anything about it.

that night, natasha tried to sleep, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. you were everything she had wanted, but in this strange, liminal space, neither of you had been brave enough to admit it.

weeks passed, the semester came to an end, and graduation day loomed on the horizon. natasha and you both moved on in your own ways, starting to make plans for life after college. but something lingered. something unsaid. life became a little more faster, and faces got a little older.

you reached out to her a few times. it was never the same as before. it was different now, with this strange tension lingering between you both. but you kept in touch, as if you both were afraid of letting go of something that might have been, something that might have still been.

and maybe it was ridiculous, natasha thought, but she was okay with it. she had loved you for years, and maybe that was the most honest thing she could admit to herself.

because even if you two had never been the closest of people, you’d always been there. always in the background, always in between. and somehow, that was enough for natasha. enough for her to hold on to the hope that maybe, one day, you’d both be able to finally figure it out.

it had been two years since you both left the university. two years where natasha had started a career in marketing, constantly moving up, climbing the corporate ladder while trying (and failing) to suppress the things she didn’t want to feel about you. she had dated, of course. a couple of short-term relationships, nothing serious. but nothing had ever lasted, and she had never quite understood why until now. the answer had always been there, hovering just out of reach, in the form of a text, a call, a passing thought about you.

as for you, you’d moved across the country for a job in graphic design. you didn’t think much about natasha at first. life had been busy—new city, new friends, new routine—but every now and then, you'd wonder if she'd thought of you. if she remembered how everything had felt when you were both on the brink of something, but never quite dared to cross the line.

and then it happened.

it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t expected. but one saturday evening, natasha found herself sitting at a bar in brooklyn after a long week at work. she’d had a rough day. one of those days where everything felt like too much. and then, as she nursed her gin and tonic, she heard someone call her name.

it was a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

“natasha?”

she turned, already recognizing the voice before she even saw your face. and there you were, standing in the doorway of the bar like a memory coming to life. your hair had grown a little longer, and you looked different, older in a way that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. but you were still you—the same you who had been in those parties, those late-night study sessions, the one who had always made her laugh with a look or a passing reference.

for a moment, neither of you said anything. just stood there, eyes locking, as if trying to figure out whether this was real.

“i didn’t know you were in new york,” natasha said, her voice betraying the sudden weight in her chest. she couldn’t keep the smile from forming, even though she tried.

“i wasn’t planning on being,” you said, grinning. “work sent me here for a few weeks. i was meeting some friends, but it’s been a while, so i thought i’d just see if you were around.”

it wasn’t exactly casual. but you both knew it wasn’t entirely random, either. it felt like fate had decided that you two were finally going to do this.

you sat down, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always had. the awkwardness of the past melted away. you didn’t need to pretend anymore. there were no more games, no more hesitations.

just you and natasha, picking up where you left off, though this time, the space between you felt a little different. there was an understanding now, a quiet knowing in the way you both spoke, a recognition that time had done its job.

“so…how’s life?” natasha asked, pushing her drink aside and leaning in a little closer.

you shrugged, but there was something different about you too, something less guarded. “it’s been alright. busy. but you know how that goes. i’ve been thinking about home, though. about—” you paused, then looked directly at natasha. “about people i should have kept in touch with.”

natasha’s heart was thudding in her chest, but she kept it together. she was a master of hiding emotions, after all. “yeah?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, with a smile that made natasha’s stomach flutter. “it’s funny how things work out. you don’t realize what you miss until you’re standing in front of it again.”

time had always been a strange thing between natasha and you—something both distant and close at the same time, like a thread that wound its way through your lives, never quite snapping, always lingering. you’d known each other for years, seen each other at parties, shared quiet moments, and laughed at the same jokes. but all that time, there had always been a hesitation. a space between the two of you, filled with something—something both of you had been aware of but had never dared to name.

it was the kind of thing that was easier to ignore in college, easier to pretend it wasn’t there while you were both busy with classes, with your lives, with the thrill of being young and not yet knowing what you wanted out of the world.

but that something between you had always been there, pulling at both of you, quiet but undeniable. the way you caught each other’s eyes a little too long. the way your conversations turned into something more meaningful without either of you intending it. the way natasha would see you at parties and catch her breath for just a moment. the way you’d smile, as if you both knew, but neither of you was brave enough to act on it.

you’d both dated people. tried relationships. but it had never lasted, had it? there was always that nagging feeling in the back of your mind—something missing, something not quite right. as if your lives couldn’t fit together because they weren’t ready to yet. you didn’t have the words for it, and neither did natasha. but you both knew. you always knew.

the things that had once seemed complicated—life, timing, fear—suddenly didn’t feel as big as they once had. there was a quiet honesty between you now, as if you both had grown enough to stop pretending you didn’t feel it. the awkwardness, the hesitation, the “maybe” that had been there before was gone.

it was you. it had always been you. and you knew it too.

“so,” natasha said after a beat, her voice softer now, quieter than before. “what are we doing here, really? we’re not strangers. we’ve known each other for, what, almost four years now?”

you looked at her, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t hide the tension in your gaze. “we’ve known each other longer than that,” you said. “we’ve always known.”

“i think i’ve always been afraid of this,” natasha admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “afraid that i’d say the wrong thing, or that it would mess things up between us. that maybe the timing was never going to be right.”

you nodded slowly. “i’ve been afraid of that too.” you paused, then added with a wry smile, “i was never good with timing.”

“maybe we don’t need perfect timing,” natasha said softly, her gaze meeting yours with something she hadn’t let herself feel before—a quiet certainty. “maybe it’s just the right time now. after all this time.”

you didn’t answer right away. you didn’t have to. instead, you reached across the bar, your hand brushing gently against hers, and just like that, it all clicked. there was no more hesitation. no more waiting. you both knew what this was, what it always had been.

“yeah,” you said, your voice low and certain. “i think you’re right.”

and that was it.

[moonstruckme]

i'm obsesseeeed with dr. rem and i have a request for him if you're up for it!! <33 maybe reader gets into an "accident" (nothing serious) while working and remus finds out when he sees her in the hospital? like she didn't have time to call him and let him know so he suddenly just sees her and freaks out for a bit before realizing she's okay? thank you so muchhhh 💗

I'm obsessed with him toooo it's bad ! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

cw: minor head injury

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your eyes water, but you do your best to keep them open as the girl in scrubs points her light in each one. 

“Your pupils look alright,” she decides, clicking the light off and giving you an apologetic smile when you blink in relief. “Have you felt nauseous at any point since it’s happened? Dizzy?” 

You shake your head no to both, wincing a bit as the clear bag of ice you’re holding to the back shifts slightly. 

“That’s good.” She nods encouragingly. She seems young and somewhat green, probably one of those pesky residents Remus is always griping about. Though she’s trying to project the same seasoned calm as the other doctors and nurses moving about the A&E, there’s a quiet anxiety about her that you recognize. It’s the same one you carried during the first month at your job, the possibility of getting in some kind of trouble seeming to loom over you constantly. She’s pretty, you think, and she seems nice. Like she genuinely cares, a massive improvement over the woman at the front desk who’d given you a look so judgemental that it’d made you feel even more embarrassed for being here. “And you’re sure you didn’t lose consciousness at any point? Even for a second?”

“I don’t think so,” you say. “I mean, I would have noticed, right?” 

She squints like she’s not quite sure what to do with that, and then you perk up as a familiar rhythm gets your attention. You wouldn’t have guessed you could do it outside of your shared flat, but you pick out the sound of Remus’ footfalls a second before he comes into view. He’s striding briskly across the room, skimming something on his clipboard, and he gives the swath of curtained rooms little more than a cursory glance as he passes—until his eyes flare, snagging on you.

You raise your hand in a sorry wave. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, doubling his pace to get to you. His attention moves to the bag of ice you’re holding to your head. “You’re hurt?”

“I bumped my head at work,” you explain with a shrug. The resident looks between you like she’s unsure if she should continue, clearly outranked by the other doctor in your little room. “It’s not bad, but my boss said I had to come here.” 

Remus’ lips tug downward, taking the ice from you and tilting your head so he can see it. “You hit your head and you didn’t call me?” 

“It’s nothing,” you promise him. “My boss just made me come in as a formality. For liability reasons, you know?” 

Remus remains uncomforted. He murmurs a quiet direction to the resident so the poor girl steps back from you. You shoot her an apologetic look as your boyfriend takes your head in both hands, prodding at the tender spot on the back. You wince, and he makes a very unprofessional cooing sound, stroking his thumb next to the nonexistent wound. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Even his dubious tone is gentled for you, the pinch of his mouth more worried than vexed. 

“It hurts,” you admit, “but only like any bruise would. It didn’t even break the skin, Rem, I’m totally fine.” 

He looks at the resident. “Any symptoms of a concussion?” 

“No,” the girl chirps nervously. You wonder that anyone could be nervous around Remus, but you suppose he is sort of like one of her bosses. “Pupils are normal, no dizziness or headaches, no reactions to light or noise, and no signs of confusion.” 

He nods, still frowny. You think he could stand to show her some appreciation, but this may not be the time to bring it up. “Alright, you can go. I’ve got this one.” 

“Thank you,” you say after her, and she flashes you a tiny smile before Remus eclipses your vision, taking your face in his hand. 

“You were fully honest, right?” he asks you sternly. “Didn’t downplay anything?” 

“I didn’t.” You summon your most placating tone, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I’m really fine.” You rub your thumb into his pulse point. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, everything was just moving so quickly. I wouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret or anything.” 

Remus lets out a long exhale, leaning forward so that his nose rests on your forehead. “I know you wouldn’t,” he murmurs. “But do you have any idea how scary it is to see someone you love in A&E, where you work, when you thought they were just going about their day unharmed?” 

Your heart contracts as the severity drains from his tone, replaced by a dull rawness. “I don’t.” You slide your touch up his arm to his bicep, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. But I am unharmed, see? It’s all good.” 

He grunts fondly, kissing your forehead as he straightens. “Who drove you here?” 

“Marcus.” You’ll have to make your coworker some cookies or something as a thank-you gift, though you’re sure getting a half hour off work to chauffeur you here wasn’t an entirely unwelcome break. 

“And where is he?” 

“Back at work. He dropped me off.” 

Remus brow puckers. “He left you here?” 

“Well, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do,” you say, shrugging. You feel a bit sheepish, though you’re not sure why. 

“Still.” His jaw ticks. “Okay, I get off in less than an hour. Do you think you can sit tight until then? I’ll have someone bring you some fresh ice.” He levels your sloshy bag of ice with a disapproving look you want nothing to do with. “And did you eat lunch before your shift?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you say. “But I don’t need you to drive me home, Rem. There’s a bus stop right outside of here.” 

He scoffs. “I don’t care if you don’t have a concussion, I’m not letting you take the bus after you’ve just hit your head.” He squeezes your shoulder, thumb pressing into your collarbone. “I’ll have someone bring you a snack.” 

“It’s just a bump,” you argue, but Remus ignores you. 

“Try to leave, and I’ll be very cross with you,” he threatens as he walks away. “Cuddles are a privilege that can be revoked.” 

[xoxoluka]

fic or oneshot request for jschlatt x streamer! reader?? that’s really all i got, but i’m obsessed w the idea of it

ooh wait maybe they’ve kept their relationship secret but they do a collab video and it’s how everyone finds out that they’re together

yes yes yes!!!

"Ｓｃｈｌａｔｔ ｇｅｔｓ ｇａｍｅ？"

pairing: jschlatt x cc!reader

summary: the fans finally figure out who your 'mystery boyfriend' is, basically.

warnings: swearing, reader is implied to be clean girl aesthetic and wears makeup, etc

a/n: its like 3am, its so hot... someone sedate me

a blind person would be able to see that you and schlatt were in no way similar. you ran your own, singular channel, where you gave advice, did cleaning timelapses, makeup tutorials, hair tutorials, the works. on the other hand, schlatt ran multiple channels, had multiple companies, and had multiple podcasts. he was everywhere, while you were in one place. no one ever thought that they would see this specific stream.

"do you really think we should do this?" you ask, unsure of him rather than yourself.

"yeah, what's the problem with it?" he shrugs nonchalantly, making sure the camera was in the right position.

"nothing, but.. you with your bits, and lore, and everything... you really think they're gonna be 'okay' with it?" you question, your voice quiet.

schlatt finally makes eye contact with you, giving you a look. you know he doesn't actually care about what people think, and has told you to not care, but you can't help yourself.

"listen, toots, whatever they say doesn't matter because i'm still gonna want to date you after this," he says in a strong tone, making his point known.

you nod and look down, letting out a tense breath and looking back up at him. "okay, let's do it."

the plan was for schlatt to be doing another tiktok reacting stream, and you come in to confront him about it. it was a bit that you couldn't remember which one of you came up with, but it was supposed to happen near the end of the stream. you had at least an hour to kill until then, most likely more.

⋘ ᴛʀʏ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ... ⋙

you scrolled through instagram for nearly the whole two hours until you got the confirmation text from schlatt. you took in a quick breath and let it out, standing up and walking to his office.

"guys, we're almost at the end and not a single one of you has sent in something funny," schlatt shakes his head. "let's keep going."

"you said you would stop," you speak loud enough that the mic would pick it up from across the room. "you said you wouldn't react anymore."

this makes schlatt pause and put the camera into full screen mode, so more of the room and chat was visible. "listen, it's just one stream-"

"no, you said you were going to stop," you walk closer, the side of your torso now in frame. chat started to question what was going on and who had walked in.

"it's just- this is what they wanted," he defends, a small smile on his face.

"you said you were going to rehab, you're tearing this family apart," you say, fake crying until a loud, long meow came from your feet.

"oh! hi, jambo." you giggle, looking down at the cat that stared up at you, rubbing against your legs.

you pick up the orange kitty and hold him in front of the camera, letting chat get a good look at him. you set him down on the desk after a moment, and schlatt moves his chair back into focus of the camera.

"did you guys like that bit?" he asks, but the chat was still questioning who this person was in the first place.

you walk over and pull your own office chair away from your desk, the one that sat right next to schlatt's, and sat down next to him, finally showing your face to the camera.

'no way...'

'IT'S Y/N'

'WHAT'

screams filled the chat, people freaking out that schlatt had someone like you on his stream. "I actually expected you all to not know who I was," you laugh, playing with the necklace that sat across your neck.

"this is my girlfriend, you all need to be nice," schlatt says in a patronizing tone. you both read chat for a moment until a TTS comes through.

"schlatt gets game? that's crazy." it says, making you both laugh.

"no, i'm just here as a publicity stunt actually, the viewers were going down." you say jokingly, looking over at schlatt.

"yeah, money was getting tight, I needed an extra couple dollars." you both laugh at the joke.

playful banter and answering questions goes on for about twenty minutes, and everything goes fine to the end of the stream. schlatt ends it, and a still presence enters the room. he huffs and sits back in his chair.

"we'll find out tomorrow, huh." I say, sounding like more of a statement than a question.

"guess so," he says, looking over at you. a comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you gaze into each others eyes.

"i love you," you break the silence first, speaking quietly.

"love you more." he responds in the same tone.

a/n: that was straight bootycheeks... give me the opportunity to write a fic it will be better than this TRUST

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[venusacrossthestars]

your hands in mine

Pairings- Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

WC-1k

warnings- fluff, thunderstorm, 1 sexual-ish innuendo

A/N: this is something special for @arieslost and her obsession with hands, especially Charles' hands. I wrote this and am posting in today (3/12) in honor of our 3 years of friendship. I wouldn't be who I am without her. nyoom duo till the end.

f1 masterlist

The roll of thunder is what startles you out of your slumber. Senses clouded by the lingering effects of sleep. For a moment you are unsure as to where you were. This looked nothing like your apartment. Another wave of thunder brought back the realization, I spent the night at Charles’. 

You and the Monégasque driver had spent the entire day together, doing everything and nothing. He had a week off between races and was adamant about spending it all with you, not that you were complaining. This night had been no different. The two of you had gone out for a nice dinner, a little local spot near Charles’ flat that had live music. Your walk home was filled with a comfortable silence, which was one of your favorite things about being with Charles. The two of you didn’t need to be in constant conversation with each other, just each other presence was enough. 

The peacefulness followed the both of you as you worked through the motions of your nightly routine. Yours ended with reading a few chapters of whatever book you were reading and Charles practicing the piano. Kissing him before you each went off to do your own routine was the last thing you could fully remember. You must’ve fallen asleep out on the balcony and Charles must’ve carried you to bed. 

Turing over in Charles’ arms was a task easier said than done. Anytime the two of you spooned his arms would magically become vice grips, impossible to get out of. However, Charles must have been equally, if not more, beat than you. The rain helping lull him to sleep as it had done to you, his arms were lax across your middle, making it easier to roll over to your opposite side. 

As the wind picked up, a cool breeze swept through the open windows making you nestle further into Charles’ bare chest. Your hands coming to rest across his chest. Another thing to love about him, he always slept shirtless. It was impossible to deny how handsome Charles was, and contrary to popular belief of the media, you weren’t with Charles only for his looks and fame, though it was a perk. You didn’t care about any of those things. When he was with you he wasn’t Charles Leclerc Prince of Ferrari, he was just Charles and that’s all you needed. 

The rain began to pour harder and you couldn’t restrain yourself from staring at Charles’ sleeping figure, it was as if Michelangelo personally carved him out of marble. His sharp features only a tad more relaxed in his slumber. Shamelessly, you move your hand from his chest and lightly begin to trace his face with the backside of your hand, carefully trying not to wake him. Content with your mapping skills you move your hand back to his chest, now mindlessly drawing shapes into his tan skin. 

You continued your drawing, listening to the sounds of the storm as it raged on, lost in your own world. You would’ve stayed like that for longer if it wasn’t for a practically bright flash of lightning followed by a wave of thunder that had enough force to shake the room. This startled Charles from his slumber, which in turn startled you. 

“We should close the window before the floor gets all wet,” Charles mumbled out, still in the clutches of sleep. 

“Too comfy, don’t wanna move,” you mutter into his skin. 

Charles slides out from under you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. 

“I’m going to be right back, mon cheri, do not worry.” 

With your eyes well adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom, you can make out the outline of Charles’ back, along with the muscles that flex as he closes the window and redraws the curtains that have been blown open. You watch shamelessly. How can a man be that perfect? 

“See something you like?” Charles teases, standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Best view in the city.” Your answer seems to satisfy Charles as he climbs back into bed, back to your previous position. 

Now, instead of your hands tracing Charles’ features it is Charles whose hands soothingly roam your arm. On one particular ticklish pass of his hand, you let out a small giggle and before he can go back to try and tickle you again you grab his hand. 

With his hand in yours, you bring it to your lips and press small kisses against each of his knuckles. Happy with the amount of kisses you have given him you bring his hand back down and absent-mindedly play with his fingers. Charles, still awake, says nothing and continues to let you do as you please. 

“I love your hands,” you admit. 

“I know,” he chuckles out, “I like my hands too, especially when they are wrapped around your throat.” 

You gasp at the statement, “you pervert. I’m complimenting you and your head is stuck in the gutter.” 

“It always is when you’re around.” 

You roll your eyes at his comment and he pinches your side in retaliation, “you can’t even see what I did.” 

“I know you, and I know you just rolled your eyes at me.” 

Well, he’s got you there. You stop messing around with his fingers and now it is Charles’ turn to fiddle with yours. He copies your motions, bringing your hand to also kiss each knuckle. Instead of stopping as you did with his, he lightly massages the meat of your palm. 

You are fighting the feeling of sleep, but it is a losing battle between the massage Charles is giving you and sound of the rain hitting the now closed window. Charles mutters something that your foggy brain is unable to catch. 

Laced with sleep you ask, “what did you say?” 

“Just that I love your hands too.” Charles says while kissing your ring finger but you are too far gone to hear the last part. “And one day I’ll put a ring on your finger and be able to call you mine forever.”

[volturiprincess]

Bored

Poly volturi guard x mate reader Summary: Painting their nails when reader is bored Warnings: None really, just fluff, well one curse word but thats it A/N: I haven't written a one-shot in a while, I been mostly doing head cannons. I got inspired recently because I painted my nails from being bored. Also this is my first one-shot with reader having more than one mate 🤗. There will be a A/N in the end. Enjoy💙

________________________________________________________

“Im bored”

My mates are all lounging around my room while I was in my bed cuddling with Demetri. I usually cuddle with Felix because well he's a literal teddy bear and Demetri usually likes to just look at me, if he could he would stare at me for hours. If I’m not with those two I'm with Jane and Alec who like to read with me either by our willow tree or on our favorite sofa located in Alec’s room. I try to balance my time with all four because I would hate to make them feel like they are not wanted or feel like I do not pay attention to their needs. Since i'm still cuddling with Demetri he answers me first 

“What would you like to do cariño?”

I was about to answer with ‘I don't know’ but then I looked at my hand that was placed on Demetri’s chest and an idea clicked

“Can I paint your guy’s nails?”

All their heads snapped to me instantly, I could tell by Jane's gaze she was about to say no, along with Alec. While Felix looked like he was so down to do it, I looked up at Demetri and he had an unsure look, knowing he might say no unless I convinced him. 

“Come on, it's not like its permanent, it might come off in like an hour after I put it on your nails”

I did my best puppy look at the four of them that I knew would make them give in. I ran to my bathroom and gathered all the supplies I could find. Heading back to where the others were, I sat in the middle of my room where there would be plenty of room for all them to sit. 

I decided Felix would be my first victim since he was the most excited of this than the other three. I went over to him and sat across from him until he pulled me into his laps.. I grabbed his large hand and admired it from different angles to see what color would fit him best. 

“I know you are obsessed with my hands but is it really necessary to look at them with such focus?”

“Yes Fe, Im analyzing what color would best suit you”

“Oh”

Alec spoke up “Didn't think you had such a focus, just the other day you said you can't focus when I or Jane ware red”

“Well can you blame me, you guys look just more gorgeous than you need to be, my mind can't get that outta my head”

I looked back at Felix and he looked at me with curiosity, I leaned in and gave his jaw a kiss. I looked through my bag and found the perfect shade of pink. His eyes instantly widened and the others snickered slightly.

“Really? Pink? Why?”

“I think it would suit you quite nice big guy, your this big muscular vampire that could rip anyones head off instantly but you have a soft side so there's that, plus this nail polish changes, when your cold it changes to purple while if you are warm it turns pink”

“Um okay but I'm naturally cold, wouldn't it always be purple then?”

“Not unless I keep you warm a certain way if you know what I mean”

He looked at me with an amazed look that quickly turned into a smirk. I opened the nail polish and went off to work. I saw the other three looking at my work with astonishment, as I finished I looked at my work with a proud grin.

“Felix you look absolutely pretty, like a pretty pink princess”

He rolled his eyes playfully but looked at his hand with a small grin. I moved to my next victim which was Jane.

“Alright my little death rose, for you I will do black, because well that's obvious”

“Very well then”

I grabbed her cold hand and went straight to work. I had to concentrate more on her because her hands are smaller and her nails are slightly smaller than average. I could feel her eyes on me, I wanted to look back at her but I needed to focus. I finished quickly and looked at my work

“Voila, what do you think my princess of darkness?”

“There nice”

“Eh i'll take it”

Next one was Alec, I knew for sure I would do his burgundy because it would match his eyes. I went to him and he pulled me into his embrace so I was sitting between his legs. I giggled at his action while he just grinned cheekily.

“For you my handsome devil, your color will be burgundy”

“Why burgundy?”

“Because it matches your eyes, it's also my favorite color”

I hear someone mumble 

“I see who’s the favorite one”

“I heard that”

I looked up at him and he was already looking at me with a soft look, he leaned in and gave my forehead a kiss. I blushed at his action and felt my mind lag function, I heard chuckles from my mates which made me snap back to reality. I grabbed the color and painted his nails. I definitely made the right choice of picking this color, it really is his color. The way the color goes so well with his pale skin really popped. I finish before Jane could say pain and admired my work

“Fuck I really did you justice Alec, this color really does suit”

“Language tesoro”

“Sorry Fe”

I moved to my last victim, well I saved the best for last. I scoot over to Demetri who already has a grin on his face with anticipation. What color would suit this casanova of a vampire? I could do red but Alec is already a close resemblance to red, I want all four of them to have different colors. Wait! I know what color, when these four went out to Seattle to deal with the whole newborn thing, Demetri had this very elegant coat that just complimented him so well, I think there was this lavenderish blue in the design and I think that shade will look lovely on him. I rummage through my bag to find that color and found it.

I look back at Demetri and he had a devilish smirk 

“So care to tell why that color amore?”

“Well since you ask so nicely my casanova of a vampire, I picked this color for the reason being it reminded me of that coat you had on in Seattle, I got to admit you look hot”

“Hey! What about me?”

“Oh my dear hunk of a mate, you looked as handsome as you always do”

“And us?”

“You two always look great in black”

Gosh you compliment one and you have to compliment everyone else on the spot. Before I could even start with Demetri’s hand he pulled me onto his lap so my back was against his chest. I didn't say anything because I knew he would get more cocky than he needs to be. It took me a bit longer to do his hands because in the middle of it he decided to shower my neck with kisses and he even started to nibble slightly. I closed my eyes for a second to regain my focus and finish. Slightly sloopy, thanks to Demetri, but I finished before that session went a whole different way. 

“Alright my loves let me see your hands”

They showed off their hands and I got to admit I did a pretty good job, no regrets with the colors I picked for them. 

“Thank you cariño, you did a wonderful job”

“Your welcome Dem, i'm glad you guys like it”

Felix stood up and stalked towards me which made me raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Alright my little rose, you have left me curious about my nails changing color”

He tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked away from the other three. I hear Demetri shot out 

“HEY! I want to see that too”

So much for being bored. 

___________________________________________

A/N: For Felix's nail color, I actually have that nail polish on, I forgot I had it until I tried it on. I wanted to give a quick update on my Caius one-shot, I been working on it, and to be honest it will need a third part. Theres different POV's between reader and Caius and well Caius has a lot to say 😅 from what happened in part one.

[7ndipity]

Take a Chance on Me

Yoongi x Plus Size Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi met during his enlistment and quickly became friends, but what happens when your friendship begins to grow into something more?

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurities and anxieties

A/N: A massive thanks to @bethanysnow for requesting this idea and for obsessing over it with me!😘 I’m so excited to work on this as a drabble series, I hope you’ll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

‘Okay, you can do this, it’ll be fine.’ Yoongi repeated to himself, fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel as he waited to pick you up from work, trying to quell his nerves before he spotted you jogging across the parking lot towards his car.

“Hey, Min.” You greeted him as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Y/n.” He said, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth in spite of himself, your presence alone managing to calm him, if only a little bit.

It was remarkable almost, how in just a few short months, you’d come to be such an important part of his life.

When you’d first met following his public service assignment, he’d been a bit hesitant of getting too close with anyone around him too quickly, but you’d managed to worm your way into his heart almost instantly.

He still remembered the first time he realized how much he liked you; he’d made some dry, sarcastic remark that no one else had really reacted to, unsure if he was being serious or not, but you had let out a quiet burst of laughter that had immediately set everyone else at ease. It was just a little thing, but it had played over in his head for the rest of the day.

He hadn't even known that much about you at the time, except your name, your department, and that the sound of your laugh was one of the best things he’d ever heard.

Before long, he had started finding more and more excuses to come by to see and talk to you, even if it was just for a minute as he brought some forms for somebody else to sign, eventually asking if you wanted to hang out together outside of work as well.

You’d known who he was of course, in your own words it was impossible not to, but you’d never treated him differently because of it, something he’d come to appreciate more and more as you’d gotten to know each other.

You were so bright and warm and funny, and had a way of putting him at ease that few others had ever managed, he found himself easily charmed by you, and it was honestly your friendship that had made the rather jarring shift between his lifestyles bearable, if not almost pleasant.

But more recently, he’d begun to realize that his feelings towards you had grown beyond those of purely a friend.

Yoongi craved you, he wished there was a better word or phrase to convey his feelings for you, but that was the best he could come up with. He craved your presence, your comfort, the sound of your laugh when you found something he did cute or funny. He found himself missing you constantly, even if he’d just seen you, wanting to wrap his arms around your plush figure and keep you close at all times. It was like he was addicted, and frankly, it scared the shit out of him.

“You okay?” You finally asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’d noticed he’d been quieter than usual, having barely spoken the entire car ride to your place, stirring up your concern for him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I-uh, wanted to ask you something.” He started, scratching at his palms nervously.

“Okay.” You said, eyeing him curiously, making him fidget even more.

Fuck, it would be easier if you weren’t staring at him with those fucking eyes, he thought. They’d been one of the first things he’d noticed about you, one of the first things to put a chink in his armor.

He had spent the previous night laying in bed, trying unsuccessfully to come up with a more eloquent way to put his feelings into words, but as soon as he looked up at you, everything seemed to shrivel up and drift away, like leaves on the wind, leaving him with only the simplest of thoughts and question in his mind.

“Would you… go out with me?” He asked softly.

Your eyes went wide. “What?!”

“Will you go out with me?” He repeated.

“But, w-why?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“Why do you think? I like you, a lot.” He let out a huff of laughter, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Fuck, honestly? I think I might even love you, but I know that’s way too much out of the blue. I just know that I want to be with you, as more than friends, if you’ll have me.” He finished, glancing down at his feet awkwardly.

It was quiet for a long moment as you stared at him, stunned, letting his words sink in.

“I don’t… get it.” You said slowly.

He blinked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why me? I’m not exactly your type.”

“You don’t know that.” He interjected.

You scoffed. “C’mon, Yoongi, be serious,” You said, skepticism clear in your voice.

“I am being serious.” He said, looking at you with utmost sincerity. “You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

You shook your head in confusion. You’d seen the type of people that Yoongi spent time around in his line of work, and they were very different from you; thin, beautiful, perfect. Not that you didn’t think you were pretty in your own way, but compared to the idols that he was typically around, the idea of you and Yoongi just didn’t make sense to you.

“But I’m just… me.” You said, the last part coming out almost as a question, not understanding his logic.

He smiled. “That's why I like you. You're open and honest and kind, you don’t hide behind some front or mask, and you don’t put up with anyone’s shit. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful-”

“But I’m-” Your hand went as if to gesture to yourself, but he was quick to catch it in his own.

“Hey.” The sudden sharpness in his tone caught you off guard. “Don’t you dare try to sell yourself short, you hear me? When I say you’re beautiful, I mean it.”

You bit your lip, mind racing. You wanted to believe him, but there was that nagging voice in the back of your head that kept saying it wouldn’t work, something was going to go wrong.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to date though?” You pointed out. “What if someone finds out?”

“They’ll say ‘good for them’, otherwise I don’t give a fuck.” He said firmly. “What I do outside of that building is none of the company’s damn business.”

You smiled at that, but said nothing, still thinking.

“Look,” He spoke again, this time much softer. “I realize that this is a lot all of a sudden, and you don’t even have to answer today, you can take however much time you want to think about it, I’m just asking for a chance.”

It was quiet for a moment before you spoke again, softly. “Okay.”

He looked up at you. “Okay?”

“I’ll go out with you.” You clarified.

“You will?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” You nodded, grinning at him.

He beamed, letting out a relieved sigh before leaning across the center console and pulling you into a hug. “Thank you.” He mumbled against your hair, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I like you too, by the way.” You said.

“I was kinda hoping, given your answer, but thanks.” He chuckled, smirking at you.

“Ugh,” You shoved against his chest lightly, but he was giving you no room for escape. “You could’ve just said it back.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, okay?” He asked, grinning at you.

“Fine.” You grumbled, feigning annoyance.

“Can I make it up to you?” He asked.

“Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, he leaned closer, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[sturnsdc]

ART CLASS AU!

pair: Carl Grimes x fem!reader

synopsis: Yn has feelings for her classmate, Carl, but she never does anything about it. However, things seem to work in her favor when they have to work on a project together for the art class.

warnings: no TWD scenes, just fluff, slight angst, somewhat obsessive behavior ??

words: 2,4k

A/N: to make the narration clearer: at all times, Yn is writing in her diary, which is why at times she will speak about Carl, and at other times it may seem like she’s speaking directly to him (but she’s not)!! For the most part, it’s just a bunch of fragments from her diary, as she explains a bit at the end.

this came to my mind suddenly; i apologize for it being so short.

the words in italics are the lyrics of the song !!

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

main masterlist carl masterlist

YN´S POV

you look pretty good today

is it me or did you shave?

sometimes i wonder if it's normal, if it's real. With each passing day, he seems to become more handsome, and like a magnet, he keeps drawing my gaze again and again. It feels like i can't control it.

i notice when he wears a new shirt, or when he’s wearing the same pants from a few days ago. I notice when he forgets something, when he’s focused, or when he gets distracted.

i just can’t stop noticing him.

good, you've been looking at me twice as more

so i can see your face

when we make eye contact, i feel like i’m going to die. My heart races, my cheeks turn red, my hands sweat, and i stop breathing. Even my stomach tightens, my whole body tenses up. The first time it happened, i thought i was having an attack.

secretly, i enjoy it because when i feel his gaze, i have an excuse to turn my head, look at him, and smile. I don’t even know where i find the courage, but he smiles back at me, with tight lips, then looks away after a few seconds.

my friends told me not to overthink it, that maybe i’m just misinterpreting things. They say if “i keep analyzing every time we make eye contact”, i’ll end up falling for him, and then he’ll break my heart by not feeling the same way.

you sit across from me in the classroom

but do you even know my name?

then i tried to avoid him. He probably doesn’t even know who i am. Does he even know my name? i doubt it; they hardly ever say it out loud in class. I don’t even know everyone else’s names.

but then everything seems to align, and the teacher walks to that side of the room while giving the lesson, as if she knows i’m following her with my eyes. And there he is, on the other side of the classroom, in his plaid shirt and with those pretty eyes, taking notes on everything she’s saying… while i lose my breath and forget what i was listening to.

Carl... i do know your name.

if you want to ask me how i am

don't hesitate

it was a couple of days after the teacher announced the final project. The art class would have to hold a fair, showcasing our own works, from paintings to ceramics. It had to be in pairs, but we couldn’t pick our usual partners. We had to step out of our bubbles and take a risk.

i thought about him, but my embarrassment consumed me, so i let the days pass. And just two days before the next class, i ran into him in the hallway. He seemed surprised. His blue eyes looked at me in a strange way, almost like he was unsure of something. Then he made a move to come closer, and i started to get nervous.

he did it; i didn’t expect him to. He spoke to me, asked if we could pair up, and all i could do was say yes, with a dazed look and stumbling over my words. Then he smiled, like i’d never seen him smile before. His face lit up, and he walked away, happy.

did i do the right thing? how am i gonna focus if i could barely even speak to him?

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

i have to admit, Carl Grimes is a special guy. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the little details i’ve noticed, about the brief interactions we’ve had. It’s like my world is starting to revolve around him.

he’s a gentleman—so masculine yet so gentle. He speaks to me with such care, even though i’ve seen him outside of class, joking roughly and arguing with his friends. He’s the complete opposite.

i like this side of him, when he focuses all his attention on me, asks for my opinion, and smiles at me. I haven’t seen him talk like that with anyone else. 

should i get my hopes up?

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

we started talking about the project.

he’s so smart, coming up with amazing ideas, and i stress over not knowing which one to choose. however, he doesn’t seem worried; he waits for my answer patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, which isn’t true since we have to submit the work plan by the end of the class. but he doesn’t pressure me—he asks for my opinion on each idea and helps me weigh the pros and cons.

we chose one together, and then i started writing our plan.

but… something… feels off. We keep making eye contact, and i smile like a fool, watching as he does the same. Is this really happening? i feel like we’re in a bubble. time no longer exists, air isn’t even necessary—just us.

and then i find myself hoping that he feels the same, because i love how it feels to talk to him, to be the center of his attention, even if just for a moment.

an art class

an art class

art class used to be my escape from other subjects, a room where i felt safe. Then i saw him, and it became more than just that. Thinking about art class sends tingles through my body and instantly puts a smile on my face. My heart races like crazy, and i’m filled with excitement. And it’s all because of him.

now, art class has become something that makes me genuinely happy, motivating me to go to school.

even with the project, i’ve never been this excited to work on an assignment before, but now that i’m at his house, meeting his dad and his sister, and then heading to his room to start working on our project… i feel like i love classwork.

why do you always stick to smiling

and sit still being so quiet?

i feel like he's in the hallways more often now, because i see him every day. Sometimes i'm just turning a corner, and there he is, with his group of friends, laughing and being the smiley guy i used to see only once in a while. 

he's everywhere, all the time. What's going on?

now it's impossible not to notice him, because he's always there. Sometimes i don't even have to see him, because i can hear his laugh, or his friends', and i know we’re in the same place. 

how can he be so loud, but so damn quiet in class? i don’t get it.

it's like a completely different version of him, but i don't mind at all, it's just... weird. 

i've been pretty distracted for some days

and it's ruining my diet

the days go by, and each time i get to know him more and more. He's amazing, funny, super smart, mature, and adorable. I've also gotten to know his family better, and i understand more where that calm and controlled side he shows in class comes from.

everything seems wonderful, and i know my feelings are only growing with each passing minute, but he's starting to occupy my mind all the time, and that's becoming a problem.

my friends talk during lunch, but all i can think about is our conversation from the day before, when we got sidetracked from the project, and he started explaining the story of one of his comics. I can remember how his eyes lit up as he told me about it, and i just kept asking questions, even though i already knew the stories. I love the passion with which he spoke about it. I remember his tone of voice, the way he moved his head, and how his eyes looked at me so attentively. I recall almost every word, but then, when my mind is at its peak, i see my friends getting up from their seats, looking at me with puzzled and concerned faces.

lunch ended, and i didn’t even touch my food.

Carl Grimes, i need to figure this out soon.

if you don't take the hint already

i'm afraid i'll start a riot

i’m trying to figure out if it’s just me, Carl, but i really don’t understand—do you look at me the way i look at you?

now i try to avoid looking at you if i don’t have to, but then i feel a constant gaze, and when i turn my head, there you are, trying to look away as quickly as you can. Am i imagining this?

i feel the frustration building inside me, Carl. I need to know.

today, i try wearing different clothes, the ones i save in my closet for occasions outside of class, the ones i wear when i feel confident. But this time, i don’t feel that way. This time, i’m scared. I want you to notice. I want to know if you care, if you’ll say something.

'cause you make my whole world go crazy

yeah, your smell just sends me flying

and you did, Carl. You told me i looked good, then you got nervous and said i always look good, just that this time i looked different. If you only knew how much that meant to me.

since then, days have gone by, and i feel like you’re paying more attention to me— or have you always done that and i’m just now noticing?

you also started wearing a new cologne; it’s stronger and lingers in the air when you pass by me. Is that on purpose? now i can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, and that alone is enough to keep me floating, my mind in paradise, thinking about how much i like you.

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

today i told my friends how i feel about you. They looked at me with pity and talked to me like i was a little girl. They say you don’t feel the same, that i’m imagining everything, and that i’ll end up hurt if i keep this up.

am i really that out of my mind? they say i’m obsessed, that i’m seeing things where there aren’t any.

but they were the ones who told me the first time you looked back at me.

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

i've spent some nights crying, and now i’m trying to avoid you. It's so hard when we still have to keep working on the damn project.

i’m scared of getting my hopes up. I started this on my own. you’re not to blame, but now i wish i didn’t have to see you for a couple of weeks.

an art class

an art class

and yet, that day of the week arrives, and along with the anxiety, i can feel the excitement trying to break free. My heart races, my hands sweat, and i can’t catch my breath.

“art class,” says the sign on the door, and just that is enough to shake my entire world and bring back the feelings i’m trying to ignore.

all my days

been trying to find a reason to stay

i keep hearing my friends' words every time i see you, and now i feel guilt, embarrassment, and a horrible pain in my chest that settles in my heart, right next to the happiness you bring me. It makes me feel sick and confused.

you've asked me a couple of times if i'm okay, but how could i answer you with the truth?

say my name

and i'll go ahead and pick a date

i'm okay

if you understand that this is fate

the day of the exhibition arrived, and i’m nervous, and you notice it, so you take my hand and smile at me. You told me everything would be fine, that we did great, and that we would do really well.

you were right. Of course you were...

we spent the whole day there, answering questions and receiving compliments. We really did a good job, and everyone keeps saying that.

now i feel exhausted. All day i had to manage my emotions—the mix of anxiety, the pain in my chest, happiness, satisfaction... and love, the damn love. I feel like handling all that drained me more than talking to so many people and repeating the same words over and over.

finally, we can leave, but then you take my hand again and make me look at you. This time you look more serious, and i start to get scared, but you don’t say anything bad.

“i’m going to be honest, Yn, i loved working with you on this and getting to know you better. Since i saw you in class, something about you caught my attention, but i didn’t know how to approach you. This was the perfect opportunity, and i took it. I understand if you don’t feel the same way i do, but if you do... i’d like to get to know you more and see what can come of this.” that’s what you said, your face blushing and your eyes looking everywhere but at me.

if you only knew that when i got home, i cried, feeling so happy, kicking my legs on the bed like a tv character, and squealing into my pillow so no one would hear me. with my face red and a huge smile.

now we’re going on a date, and i just hope this turns out well.

Carl Grimes, what have you done to me?

art class

art class

i don’t even know when i started smiling, but i finished reading aloud and looked around. Carl, beside me, was smiling widely, and our two little ones had tears in their eyes; apparently, they were moved by the story of how it all began.

i recently found my diary from when i was a teenager, and i told Carl about it in front of the girls, and they both begged me to read it to them. Of course, i paused at the perfect part, at the true beginning of our relationship, but within those pages is everything, including the story of our first time and countless anecdotes from our school days.

i will always be grateful for that class because that’s how i got to know the man who makes me happy.

Carl Grimes is more than my words can describe, but i think i did a good job explaining how i fell for him.

who would have thought that a couple of years later, this would be our life?

in the end, maybe it was part of our destiny.

taglist: @jamiesturniolo

[umathurwin]

my boy’s a winner, he loves the game

Summary: Kiara has a big favor to ask of Rafe. Who is he to not oblige?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

The clinking of metal weights and Rafe’s music filled the crisp air. Every few seconds, another grunt would reverb around the gym and Kiara poked her head out further so she’d be in his line of sight.

“Kie?” he asked, dropping his 45s on the squishy floor mat, where they bounced and rolled away. “Y’scared me. Need something?”

She closed the door behind her, checking once more that no one was listening. Sarah had started another argument with John B, so it could be a while before Kiara had to return to her friend’s bedroom.

Kie swallowed thickly. “Yes, actually. It’s kind of weird, and a big thing to ask, so I need you to ignore how crazy it is for me to come to you about this.”

“You’re looking to try snow,” he nodded solemnly, reaching down for his water bottle and twisting the cap open.

“What?! No!”

He froze. He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You want to try k?”

“I don’t want any drugs, Rafe.”

His posture corrected and he brought the bottle to his mouth. “Oh. Then what?”

As he drank, several cold droplets slipped out of his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto his chest and dry fit shirt. Even in the chill at which the Camerons held their home gym, he was sweating. His smell washed over her. His eyes followed hers as she ogled him, nearly forgetting why she was there.

“Wanna hook up?” she blurted, unsure of how else to word it. Can we have sex felt too formal. Will you fuck me probably would’ve sufficed, but she lacked the bite. Especially with this lupine in front of her, reducing her to a doe-eyed stutterer.

He pulled the lip away from his mouth and used the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe off the mess from his face. This time, her eyes remained fixed north of his shoulders.

“Hmm. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Well?” she snapped, growing more edgy (and humiliated) by the second. She probably should’ve expected that he wouldn’t make this easy on her.

“Can I think about it? Oh my God…” he hollowly chastised. “If you’re gonna be this impatient when I’m inside you…”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Rafe!”

“I’m just messing with you. What’s got you so desperate? Haven’t been laid in a while?” Her eyes widened, and he connected the dots instantly. “Oh, no way. Never? How is that even possible? You’re…” Rafe waved a hand at her, but trailed off when he gained the wisdom to not comment on her appearance or how it related to her virginity.

“I just… didn’t want it to be bad. Figured I’d go to someone with at least some knowledge on the topic.”

“Really? And none of your little boys were valid candidates?”

She huffed through her nose. “That’s hilarious. Let’s go down the list together: we have the self-obsessed conspiracy theorist, the loose cannon who speaks more than he thinks, and the nerd who’s a bigger goddamn virgin than I am.”

Rafe hesitated. “Okay, I know the last one is Pope—”

“Point is,” Kiara interrupted, cutting eyes at him. “You probably can’t fathom vulnerability, and I’m really just looking for a yes or a no so I can decide if I’m gonna kill myself tonight—”

“Wow, the drama. Twist my arm a little more, why don’t you?” he said flatly. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real Saint Nick. Give me your phone,” Rafe demanded, palm open and extended to her.

She recoiled. “You’re not… gonna film it, are you?”

He processed this and a grin spread across his face. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna fuck you right now. I’m giving you my number so you don’t have to sneak around my little sister to see me.”

The confidence she’d built up with him crumbled instantly and the fever of mortification bloomed in her chest and face again. Kiara fumbled for her back pocket and handed him the device. “I— of course not! That’d be—”

“Hot,” he cut her off, offering a bit of peace for her. “I know.” His eyes flicked to the door and back down to her, then he texted himself an angel emoji. “But it just wouldn’t be right.”

With her phone returned one contact heavier, she tried not to trip on any benches on her way out.

***

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kiara spat, quickly climbing into the passenger seat of Rafe’s Land Rover anyways. He peeled out of the driveway, surely attracting the attention of any partygoers that had wandered outside. She slunk down into the seat. “When Sarah said she’d get me a ride home, I didn’t think it’d be you.”

Rafe shrugged, rolling through a stop sign and changing the song. “I owed her one. And no, she doesn’t suspect anything, so maybe relax a little?”

Not too difficult. One of Barry’s drivers had made it to the party, and she’d definitely brought a cloud of earthy aroma into his vehicle.

“Speaking of relaxing… you’re not drunk, right?”

“No, why do you— where are we going?” she asked as they flew past the turn to her street.

“We’re gonna use this time to get in some practice,” he said simply, and the smirk on his face did all but abate her worries.

“Wait, wait, I can’t— I mean, I’m not ready—”

“Little Miss Anxious, huh? Second time you’ve done that,” he said, shaking his head amusedly. “That’s not what this is. Do I need to promise to give you a heads up?”

“Uh, yeah, it’d be nice!”

“Nah.” He pulled the vehicle over to a nature preserve, one of the many dim and poorly-patrolled parks the island had to offer.

Rafe threw the car in park and grabbed his nic from the cup holder. He offered it to her, she declined. As he took a draw, his free hand absentmindedly patted his crotch, adjusting himself to be taken out.

She never would admit this, not to him or a locked diary or God, but she’s looked before. It’s not her fault he gets out of the pool like a slut, with his swim shorts hung low on his hips and clinging to his bulge. She’s had an idea of what he’s working with. But to watch him rub his semi through his jeans? Kiara’s head spun.

He dropped the nic again and unbuttoned his pants without warning. Her eyes widened as he tugged them down, just enough to free his cock from his boxers. She took in what she could make out in the dimness— a heavy shaft, the reddening tip, a little glisten where the pre was leaking out.

Instincts took over— ones she was entirely unaware she had— and she leaned forward to touch him, but he grabbed her wrist first and stopped her. Kie looked up, fearing she’d done something wrong.

Rafe’s eyes softened, resting a hand on her cheek and nodding gently. “Hey, listen. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

She nodded. It was the last glimpse of mercy she’d get for the night.

Once his warning was over, his big hand slipped from her face around to the back of her skull. He guided (pushed) her down until the head tapped against her lips. The salty taste hit her tongue but she had no time to process or cringe before the rest of his cock slid into her mouth.

It wasn’t long before Kie realized this wasn’t just a blowjob, but more of a face fucking. The agency wasn’t in her hands— or rather, mouth— when he was actively lifting his hips from the seat to stuff more of himself between her lips. She couldn’t even get her bearings enough to suck.

Kiara mustered enough momentum to overpower the headpushing and pulled her mouth off his cock. “You’re, God, being a little rough, don’t you think?” she asked weakly around a cough.

“You bet,” he affirmed, fixing his fist back into her hair and guiding her down again. “Need to prepare you for what you might come across in the future. Wouldn’t—fuck—be doing you any favors by being gentle, would I?”

Sure, whatever twisted logic he wanted to use to get a rough blowjob from a virgin. Rafe’s hips thrusted up again to meet where his hands locked her head in place, and she had to accept his cock down her throat. The zipper of his pants scraped the bridge of her nose and her back ached from the awkward position he’d twisted her into, but she figured complaining would only get her so far. Plus, her mouth was full.

He canted his hips forward so the tip of his cock brushed against her cheek, and his hand reached down her face to feel it from the outside. Rafe massaged the skin there, feeling the ridges of his head through it. The angle was hard for her to maintain, so he went back to pushing down her throat.

She couldn’t swallow with him in her mouth, so drool began to seep out and sullied his pants. Her hands pushed against his thighs and he let up, tugging her off his crotch and watching the string of spit that connected them.

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry I’m making such a mess,” she apologized through wet coughs. Rafe laughed and said nothing, but he grabbed his cock and smeared her own spit onto her face. Kiara squealed and tried to back away but he wasn’t done with her.

Eventually, he had enough trust to let her do her own work. Her jaw burned from the stretch, but the hand on her head was only resting there as she forwent keeping it all clean.

He came, hard, if the noises he made were any indicator. The sensation of his twitching cock against her tongue was fascinating, but he must not have wanted to give her the chance to spit. With her nose pressed against his pelvis, his cock for perfectly down her throat and spilled his seed there.

Kiara coughed and sputtered when he finally released her and she could breathe again. “Fucking hell, Rafe, what’s the plan for real sex? You gonna bring out a chainsaw?”

“That was real sex.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and find out then, huh?”

Kiara narrowed her eyes, looking to the small backseat. “What do you mean, wait? You’re not gonna reciprocate or anything? How is that f—?”

“Look, I know you’re new to this and all, so consider this a lesson: I’m gonna need a fuckin’ minute to get the feeling back in my extremities. And since we don’t have all night—”

He tugged her arm towards him and she awkwardly fumbled over to sit on his lap. The door pressed against her back and the steering wheel dug into her leg uncomfortably, but he continued anyways.

Kiara liked loose, linen shorts; Rafe liked them even better. He needn’t even pull them down— they were flowy and accessible enough that he could pull them and her underwear to the side and have her fully exposed for him.

Her face burned. No one had ever seen her like this before, but Rafe was more action-oriented. He cupped a hand over her bare sex, swollen and ready for him after her mouth had been fully used. His dexterous fingers played with her slit and collected the slick there, getting to know her clit and folds in the dark.

He wouldn’t have been able to see, but her eyes opened when he first pressed a finger inside. She was fully aware of how it worked, and Kie had boredly tried to fuck herself in the past, but it was never enough.

Rafe didn’t have that problem. His hands were bigger, fingers stronger, and knew how to stretch her walls around him. She mewled, and he kissed her cheek.

His fingers tucked in further and, with a palm grinding against her clit, pressed against a spot inside her that made her gasp. “Oh my God! What was that?”

He laughed a little in her ear and pulled his fingers out to slap her cunt. She whined. “Our new favorite body part of yours.”

Kiara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Our?”

Rafe took the free hand around her arm and reached over to grab at her breast. “Used to be these.”

Her body sparked and warmed at the idea of Rafe looking at her like a lecher. Deciding parts of her body were for his for ogling, grabbing, fucking. He’s always been an option for her, she just hadn’t known to ask.

The sounds her cunt made around his fingers were vile. He’d lean down to kiss her neck (but only kiss— can’t leave a mark) and she curled into his chest. She’d have more shame about the situation if she had any thoughts at all that weren’t her barreling orgasm.

When she did cum, she had to hold onto his forearm for stability. He purred into her ear about how good she was doing for him, holding her chin in place so he always had a good look at her scrunched eyes and parted lips.

He pulled his hand out from her shorts when she caught her breath, and made her watch the way strings of her cum lingered for too long. Rafe pushed those digits between her lips without warning, and swirled them around her tongue until he was adequately clean. Her legs still tingled when she slumped back into the passenger seat.

“No notes, baby, you did perfectly. Let’s get you home, hmm?”

***

Kiara’s phone automatically set to Do Not Disturb at 11 pm sharp every evening.

She wasn’t even that caught up in perfecting her sleep schedule. There were just too many nights in a row that one of her friends would drunkenly call and wake her up. Never for a good reason, like needing a ride—no, they’ll rip her from sleep to ask if a Wonka chocolate bar is red, or purple like they swore they remembered.

And they wonder why she preferred darties.

So, any messages she may receive in the witching hour would go unnoticed until the next morning. Unless, of course, the person reaching out to her is a bit more persistent.

The window creaked, and she just rolled over in bed. Her home was nearly a century old and the sandy ground below the foundation made for all kinds of bumps in the night.

What it didn’t often do, was lift the pane entirely. Kie sat up, eyes quickly adjusting to the tall body squeezing through into her bedroom.

“Jesus— Rafe?!” she asked, grabbing her chest where her heart fluttered.

“A little help?” he hissed, unable to fit the rest of the way. She sprang to his side, lifting the window a little more and guiding him inside. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to whisper. My parents are in Myrtle Beach for a wedding.”

“Well, fuck me. Would’ve been nice to know before I scaled the damn trellis. Why didn’t you respond?” he asked, pointing to the sleeping phone on her nightstand.

Kiara crossed her arms. “Didn’t get the message. Do I… need to get a first aid kit?” she asked, looking over his figure and trying not to back away like a frightened deer.

He looked down at himself. “I’m fine?”

“I meant for me! You forget the chainsaw?”

His eyebrows tightened until he remembered the night they‘d already shared, and smirked. “Oh! No, it’s not like that.”

She didn’t get to ask what he meant before he kicked off his boots and flopped onto her bed like he owned it. He wagged his fingers, beckoning her to join him, and she obeyed with a scowl. It’s her room, after all.

He pulled her down to his side, turning to face her and sliding a hand between her cheek and pillow. Rafe kissed her softly, thumbing at her skin and trailing the other hand down to her waist where it rested comfortably. Their thighs entangled and one of her fists nervously balled into his shirt.

The pair made out, much longer than she would expect he had patience for. It was delicate, verging on pure, and it sent a fire to her core in anticipation. His leg pushing between her thighs certainly didn’t hurt.

There was no hurry to undress. A shirt here, his pants there. It was like they waited until one of them lost their breath to pause and remove another article. By the time they were down to their underwear, her apprehensions reappeared.

”Slow,” she blurted, and his big blue eyes locked to hers. “We’re gonna go slow, right?” she clarified, feeling the ridges of his abs, now bare and warm under her fingers.

He smiled, kissed the tip of her nose. “M’in no rush.”

Their cores were close, she could feel the heat of his cock pressed against her hip. He pushed against her once and groaned into her mouth, then pulled away entirely and slotted himself above her.

Rafe sat back on his heels, looking at her near-naked body below her. It was hardly more skin than he was used to seeing when she swam at his house, but he hungered over her nonetheless. His fingers slipped under the hem of her panties and his eyes found hers.

“May I?”

She giggled. Perhaps because she didn’t expect that from Rafe, or maybe it was nerves. But she eked out a yes, please regardless.

With permission granted, he slid her underwear down her legs and tossed them aside, settling between her thighs and giving each a kiss.

He started gently— he spread her folds with his thumbs and licked a hard stripe up the center. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling and slammed shut, and he was gracious enough to not give her hell for this. Rafe allowed her in her own world because, well, he was in one of his own.

Had she spared a glance between her thighs, she’d see him lost in himself, nose buried into her cunt and tongue exploring every part of her. It was all slow, curious, an attempt to commit her pussy to his memory. Maybe he feared this was his only chance.

His patience built a powerful orgasm for her— the kind she could never do herself. Touching herself before was just getting a job done, but Rafe wanted it to wash over her with shaking legs and starry vision.

And Rafe always got what he wanted.

When he came up to kiss her, she tasted herself on him, but it was less intense than she expected. Maybe he was drooling too much.

She’d forgotten he still had his boxers on— too lost in cumming on his tongue. The fabric was sticking to him where precum leaked out of his tip, and he paused for only enough time to pull the elastic down under his balls. Deja vu.

Now free, his member hung menacingly between them. He took himself in hand and teased her, gliding the tip against her pulsing clit and threatening to part her folds. He lay the shaft against her and thrusted, simulating the real thing.

On one insignificant stroke, the head slipped down and notched itself against her hole. Rafe was careful, so careful pressing inside. She was wet enough that he could’ve bullied his cock into her cunt easily, but he stopped instead.

Rafe lowered himself until their noses brushed together. One hand reached up to stroke her cheek, to whisk away the tear that had pooled in the corner of her eye. He shushed, his lips brushing against her chin, her ear, her lips, anywhere he could access her skin.

“Sweetheart, please, you’ve gotta relax for me,” he whispered, voice low and warm. “You’re doing so fuckin’ good so far. Just keep letting me in.”

It was a side of the man she’d never seen before. Rafe used to twist the arms of boys who mocked her and Sarah until they screamed for mercy. He wasn’t allowed to play any contact sports in high school with his violent record. More than once, Kiara had to step around shattered glass in their home from when he’d broken tumblers in fits of rage. The blowjob from last week alone—

Tonight, his free hand found hers and threaded their fingers together. He kissed along her neck and sucked at the flesh gently. Endless praises spilled from him as his cock fully nestled inside her pulsing heat. She could feel their bodies entangling further with each breath they shared in the close space.

“Fuck it’s— so deep,” she breathed, back arching to press her bare chest against his. The angle shift forced her clit to grind against his pelvis and a whine escaped her.

“I know, baby,” he reassured and played with her tits as she readjusted. “Takin’ me so well. Can’t believe I get to be the first one to feel you like this, mm?”

She nodded, even though he wasn’t really asking her anything. Rafe’s hand, still entwined with hers, pulled down to make her feel her lower stomach.

“Feel me there?” he continued. “M’so glad you chose me. Let me split this pretty pussy open on my cock. Gonna let me fill it too? Wanna really make sure I do the job correctly?”

“Fuck, please, yes!”

He withdrew his cock entirely, letting it kiss her slick cunt and smear the wetness between them. Rafe sunk back in without warning and her back arched up.

Kiara’s fingers scratched down his back and he mentioned nothing of it. Her eyes closed again. “Rafe, I… I think I’m gonna—”

“Another?” he cut off, unable to conceal his pride. “Such a good baby. Eager to fall apart on my cock. Wanna feel it, please, sweet girl.”

She came again, pussy twitching around him. He followed shortly after and stuffed her full of cum as they milked each other dry. If the sensation of him finishing down her throat was intriguing, this was… addictive.

Rafe was an exceptional gentleman in terms of cleaning up; Kiara lay weak and tender as he gathered a wet cloth to undo the last hour. Well… as much as could be undone.

“Thank you,” she said finally, voice low above the radiator, spoken across his chest she rested on.

“Don’t even mention it,” he laughed softly and pulled her in closer. They already approached slumber. “Though, if you really wanted to thank me, I have a few ideas in mind…”

[leeknot]

SKZ REACTION TO ACCIDENTALLY KILLING YOU DURING A PUNISHMENT

Genre: Dark, Angst, Yandere

Trigger Warning: Themes of death, violence, obsession, and emotional instability

---

Bang Chan

He didn’t mean for it to happen.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Bang Chan stood frozen in place, your limp body cradled in his arms as reality crashed down on him like a wave.

“Y/N?” His voice was small, shaky, as though saying your name would wake you up. “Come on, wake up.”

He shook you gently, but your head lolled lifelessly to the side. The bruises on your neck were his doing—fingers he had wrapped too tightly around you in a moment of rage, too blinded by jealousy to see what he was doing.

“No… no, no, no.” His voice broke, tears streaming down his face. “I didn’t mean it, baby. I—I swear.”

He laid you on the floor, hands hovering uselessly over your still body. Chan’s breaths came in ragged gasps, panic clawing at his throat. He wanted to take it back—to rewind time to before this moment.

“Please,” he whispered through his sobs. “I’ll be better. I’ll protect you this time. I—”

But there was no answer.

Bang Chan stayed by your side all night, trembling, repeating your name like a prayer to no one.

---

Lee Know

Minho’s world stopped the moment you stopped moving. He stood over you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes wide as he stared at the damage he’d done.

You had defied him one too many times, and he’d lashed out, shoving you harder than intended. Your head struck the corner of the table with a sickening crack. You had crumpled to the floor, silent and unmoving.

Minho crouched beside you, his hands shaking as he gently turned your face toward him. Blood stained your hair, pooling beneath you in a dark halo.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were his. You were supposed to stay by his side forever. Minho swallowed hard, chest constricting.

“Why didn’t you just listen?” he murmured, as if blaming you would make him feel better. But it didn’t.

Minutes turned into hours as he sat beside your lifeless body, stroking your hair with a tenderness that came too late.

“I’ll make this right,” he promised, his voice hollow. “Even if you can’t hear me anymore.”

---

Changbin

Changbin didn’t realize how strong he was. He never did—not until it was too late.

The argument had been heated, your screams matching his until he lost control. He’d grabbed you by the arms, shaking you as he shouted. You stumbled, head hitting the wall with a dull thud before sliding to the floor.

“Y/N?” Changbin’s voice cracked, all the anger draining from him in an instant. He dropped to his knees, gently shaking your shoulders. “Hey, come on, wake up.”

When you didn’t respond, his heart sank into his stomach.

“No… please, no.” His voice was desperate now, thick with tears. He cupped your face, hands trembling. “I didn’t mean to—baby, I didn’t mean it.”

The silence screamed louder than his sobs. Changbin pressed his forehead to yours, hot tears dripping onto your cold skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, voice broken. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

---

Hyunjin

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Hyunjin stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your motionless body sprawled across the floor. You had pushed him too far—your disobedience igniting something dark inside him. He’d grabbed the first thing he could—a vase—and hurled it at you. He hadn’t expected it to hit you square in the temple.

Now there was blood, and you weren’t moving.

Hyunjin stumbled forward, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do. “Y/N?”

The only response was the deafening silence.

Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring the sight of you. His breathing grew uneven, panic consuming him.

“No… no, no, please.” He cradled your body against his chest, rocking back and forth as sobs wracked his frame. “I didn’t mean it—I swear. You weren’t supposed to leave me.”

His tear-streaked face buried into your hair. “I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just… come back. Please.”

But you were gone.

---

Han Jisung

Jisung’s entire body trembled as he stared at your lifeless form. The fight had escalated, his jealousy boiling over until he’d pushed you. You hadn’t caught yourself in time, tumbling backward and hitting your head against the floor.

Now you lay there, unmoving, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N?” His voice was a shaky whisper. He dropped to his knees, scooping you into his arms. Your head lolled back unnaturally, making him flinch. “No, no… please.”

Tears streamed down his face as he hugged you tightly. “I didn’t mean to… I was just— I just wanted you to understand!”

He rocked you gently, his sobs echoing through the empty room. “You’re mine,” he whimpered. “You’re supposed to be mine forever. I can’t do this without you…”

The room was cold, and so was your body.

---

Felix

The moment your body went still, Felix’s hands flew to his mouth, his eyes wide with horror. He hadn’t meant to push you so hard—he just wanted you to listen.

Now you weren’t moving.

“Y/N?” His voice cracked, barely audible. He rushed to your side, dropping to the floor as he shook you gently. “No, no, no—wake up. Please wake up.”

When you didn’t respond, something inside him shattered. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he pulled you into his lap, his hands trembling as they stroked your face.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “You know I love you, right? You know I didn’t mean it…”

He rocked you back and forth, his sobs muffled against your shoulder. “I’ll make it better. I’ll fix it somehow—I swear. Please don’t leave me.”

But you were already gone, and the silence was deafening.

---

Seungmin

Seungmin stared blankly at your body, his face devoid of expression. He had snapped—you had pushed him too far—and he’d lashed out, not realizing how fragile you truly were.

Now you lay crumpled at his feet, unmoving.

He crouched beside you, tilting his head slightly as he looked at your lifeless form. His hands reached out, brushing hair from your face, but the warmth was already fading.

“You did this,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he meant you or himself. His voice was quiet, distant.

After a moment, he pulled your body into his arms, holding you close. His expression never wavered, but his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I told you not to disobey me,” he whispered against your hair. His voice was soft, almost tender. “But you didn’t listen… and now look what you’ve done.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his grip on you tightening.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll never leave me again.”

---

I.N (Jeongin)

Jeongin’s entire world shattered in an instant.

The slap had been reflexive—born of frustration when you screamed at him. He hadn’t meant to hit you so hard. But now you were on the floor, your head twisted at an unnatural angle, and you weren’t breathing.

“Y/N?” Jeongin’s voice wavered as he stumbled forward, his knees hitting the ground beside you. “Hey, come on. You’re scaring me.”

He shook your shoulder lightly, but you didn’t stir. His heart hammered in his chest, tears blurring his vision.

“No…” He pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly as sobs broke free. “No, please—come back. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it!”

Jeongin rocked you gently, his tears falling onto your pale skin. “I love you. I didn’t mean to hurt you… You can’t leave me. You can’t.”

His cries filled the room, but no one was there to hear them.

---

[hades-in-bloom]

Bitten Lips

a/n: happy Astarion brainrot—two silly blurbs for both Tav (#1, w/ Spawn A) and The Dark Urge (#2, w/ Ascended A) using the same keywords (see the title; like, also don’t ask how and why, pretty please). Summaries and additional warnings per blurb below. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

spoilers for Act 3

warnings & contents [for both]: depictions of self-harm (non-suicidal); mentions of blood; the reader could be any gender; Tav/Durge could be any race or class; age gap (hard not to with a 200-years-old vampire); could’ve been a headcanon

[1] : lucky one

Spawn!Astarion Ancunin x Tav!Reader

summary [1]: Tav is nervous, and somehow it makes Astarion climb a wall.

+warnings & contents [1]: unadulterated comfort with a pinch of anxiety; silly bad habits driving Astarion insane; cheeky Tav

soundtrack [1]: måneskin — honey (are you coming?)

***

Astarion snaps when you bring wandering fingers to the bottom of your face again.

“Stop it,” the elf demands, mouth pressed into a thin line as he attempts to keep his frustration in check. You wince slightly, picking a string of dry skin from your wounded lips once more without realising the gravity of your actions.

“Sweet hells,” Astarion grumbles. “Why would you do it? It’s disgusting.” A bizarre mix of annoyance and worry is almost palpable in his well articulated voice. He’s seen worse sights, but you hurt yourself—that’s what he finds appalling.

As thin blood gushes out of a fresh rip on your lip, unadulterated guilt floods your essence instantly. You feel your cheeks heat up, and anxiety crooks your fingers, while you finally realize how sore your lips are since you kept violating them repeatedly in the past half an hour, agitated and a little bit overwhelmed. A prospective of turning into a mindflayer with no lips whatsoever soon down the line would make anyone nervous after all.

Astarion gives you a long stare, so you look away and mumble, “I’m sorry.” To be honest, you didn’t expect him to pick up on your silly bad habit; no one ever pays that much attention to it—there are always bigger problems to tend—but somehow he does notice.

Your tongue runs across your bottom lip, and you taste metal.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” The vampire frowns, his voice rising an octave. He frets, however hides the feelings behind a playful facade everyone’s been so used to. “Otherwise you’re ruining that pretty face of yours for no reason.”

He asks difficult questions, so you huff, unsure of what you’re supposed to say. You’ve never been great at talking about your feelings, bottling up your emotions deep down instead, where no one would ever think of rummaging.

“You didn’t expect me to always be a damned ray of sunshine, did you?” You revert your gaze to him reluctantly.

To be fair, usually you’ve smiled inappropriately often. If there were any expectations in this regard among the party members, you are the one to blame for it.

“Gods, no. Also, too much sun is bad for my health, so...” Astarion shrugs off your cynicism without a second thought. “You do you, lover.”

The pale elf’s stare lingers on you way too long for your liking, mildly unfounded uneasiness growing inside you. You want him to drop it; you want him not to care, when you don’t have answers for him. Of course, it’s too much to ask. You lose your patience at once, rolling your eyes in defeat.

“You won’t let it go,” you acknowledge, and his lips curl into a faint smile in response.

“I will if you stop doing that,” the pale elf retorts with a hint of desperate outrage as your finger innocently slides over your sore lip unwittingly, probing before the next torture.

You turn your obsession into advantage, and there’s a mischievous spark in your eyes. “I won’t be able to stop by myself.”

He catches up almost instantaneously, with his gaze fixated on your bloody, tortured lips now for all the wrong (or right?) reasons.

Astarion eliminates the distance between you two with a shameless smirk forming on his face—the smirk you knew quite well.

“Darling, aren’t you lucky,” his voice sings, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your bodies close, leaning forward meaningfully. “I might just be willing to help you out.”

[2] : broken one

Ascended!Astarion Ancunin x Consort!Dark Urge!Reader

summary [2]: Astarion’s partner falls a victim of their dark urges once again.

+warnings & contents [2]: Durge is durging; mentions of murder; mild descriptions of death; unhinged kisses; implied power struggle?

soundtrack [2]: bella poarch — villain and dutch melrose — runrunrun

***

Tonight the palace giggles in your voice, and It can only mean one thing. Astarion hears what you did well before he steps into the bedroom, blood champing under the sole of his exquisitely made shoe. Right there, in the epicentre of massacre, your figure is hunched over maid’s body, now lifeless. Her head hangs limply from your lap, while your twitching fingers are sorting through strands of gore stained hair.

Astarion takes stock of the committed atrocity for one moment before he begins to approach. “What a mess,” he sighs, slightly wrinkling delicate features in annoyance, making his verdict. “Why, little love—this one is particularly sloppy.”

You have not come to senses yet to argue; there is a dreamy, unsettling smile on your face as you glance at your beloved glassy-eyed. Astarion smiles tenderly in return, his fingers gripping your chin to lift your head.

“Poor thing,” the man cooes a tad condescendingly, seizing the moment, when you are incapable of biting back.

Animalistic grunt escapes your throat, and you snarl, but the vampire lord holds you in place tightly. He covers your bleeding, bitten in heat of the urge lips with his own, fangs dragging over your sore skin, making you gasp, almost weep instead.

At other times headstrong and fierce, able to fight back against his caring tyranny, at this point you are exhausted. You cling to his embellished doublet with the last of your strength, pleading, surrendering yourself at his mercy.

“My lovely consort,” Astarion mutters with affection, satisfied with your obedience to the point of one’s disgust.

The pale elf kicks back maidservant’s body with his foot and picks you up in his arms, holding tight to his chest as he carries you to your shared bed. You can feel the urge leaving your body, taking your consciousness away with it.

“It’s going to be over soon, my love.” Astarion whispers soothingly, although you can’t hear him anymore. “It’s going to be over soon.”

[hp-hcs]

PART 3 OF PANSYS BROTHER YANDARE!THEO I BEGGGG

LIGHTHOUSE (Chapter Three of Pansy’s Brother) — yandere! psycho! theodore nott x ftm! parkinson! reader

WARNINGS: abduction/kidnapping, possessive/obsessive behavior

short as fuck but wtv

requests open

it’s a real place! tourlitis lighthouse, just off the coast of andros, greece. absolutely gorgeous, huh?

it’s technically a fully-automatic lighthouse, so there’s no real living quarters inside but yk what i write gay fanfic about wizards on tumblr i can do whatever i want

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You fought against your captor, but their grip was unyielding. They dragged you from the library, ducking into a small alcove before the loud crack of Apparition filled your ears.

Apparating was already an uncomfortable method of travel, but even more so with someone holding you painfully tight from behind. Your captor’s nails dug into your skin as they tightened the hand they had pressed over your mouth, and you could feel your panic begin to rise.

All of the swirling, churning motions of Apparating suddenly stopped, and you would’ve stumbled if hadn’t been for your captor’s firm grasp around your torso.

“Woah- careful, darling. You’re alright. Calm down.”

The stranger’s voice was decidedly male. He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth, wrapping it around your waist, over top of his other arm.

It was like a really fucked up hug.

Would’ve been sweet of you hadn’t just been, y’know, kidnapped.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You were too stunned to do anything. The reality of the situation hadn’t even hit you yet.

The stranger buried his face into the back of your neck, his warm breath tickling your hair. You shuddered, cringing at the odd display of… affection? Obsession?

You resolutely ignored the man behind you and instead took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings.

You were indoors, a very small space that appeared to be round. The walls were whitewashed brick, and the front door, just mere feet away from you, was a dark, solid wood. There was only one window, papered over with yellowing Muggle newspapers.

Dim light filtered through the window, but most of the room’s lighting came from a few oil lamps hanging on the walls. The lamps illuminated a teeny tiny kitchen, with a teeny tiny fridge, and a teeny tiny kitchen table which, by the looks of it, folded up against the wall when it wasn’t being used.

A ladder bolted to the wall ran up into the ceiling, where you could catch a glimpse of a fuzzy blanket in what was, presumably, a loft bedroom. The oddly cylindrical house was rather quaint, in a weird way.

“I’m going to let go of you now, darlin’,” the man behind you suddenly breathed into your ear, startling you.

You held your breath as your captor pulled his arms away.

The second he let go of your waist though, you made a break for the front door. You sprinted across the room, yanking it open.

He made no move to stop you, and you only realized why once you took just one step out of the house.

You were on an island.

No, the word island was generous. You were on a rock.

A sharp crash of a wave on the rock below sent sea spray into your face, immediately drenching your uniform.

You ignored the biting chill, instead electing to look around.

There was a short flight of steps cut into the rock that led up to the front door of the house-

The house.

You turned around, unsure of what to expect.

A fucking lighthouse was not in your top one hundred guesses.

“Y/N!”

You glanced down from the light at the top of the building to the doorway, where your captor stood.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking rather unbothered by your laughable attempt to escape.

“Where am I?” You demanded. “Who are you?”

“Aw, you don’t recognize me? That’s a shame.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait…you’re Pansy’s friend, aren’t you? Th- Theodore…?”

His face lit up and he broke out in a beaming grin. “You remember! Now, come back inside before you freeze.”

You scoff, fully intending to ignore him. But at that exact moment, a huge wave smacked against the rock, splashing up and soaking you all the way through.

You gasped at the chill. Theodore rolled his eyes and caught your wrist, tugging you back inside with surprising gentleness for the dude who’d just violently kidnapped you.

Shutting the door behind you both, he turned back towards you, frowning when he saw your school uniform dripping all over the floor.

“Wait just one second-” He scrambled up the ladder bolted onto the wall with surprising ease, returning just a moment later.

He held out for you to take: a way too oversized sweater, and sweatpants you were sure would never fit you.

You didn’t take them, stubbornly refusing even though you were shivering quite a bit. “Where. Are. We?”

“Italy,” he responded without hesitation.

You gaped at him.

“I beg your fucking pardon?”

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

In the feral AU what happens the first time they send Gale to help John? In the original post you said they send him in shirtless to kneel and I can’t get that image out of my head. Is Gale a virgin? Is John’s internal alpha bowling in joy? Is Gale scared? Maybe a little excited? Maybe both? Is John so possessive he has to resist mating Gale right then and there?

I had actually forgotten about that part of the original ask 😅 I’m not suuuper into kneeling so I can almost guarantee I intentionally avoided it in my answer, but I’ll have to write about it for at least one of my future fics so let’s go there today 🙌 Uncaffeinated musings below gets slightly NSFW for a second but nothing truly sexual 😘

So, original nonny suggested John’s in bed and he’s snapping at everyone that comes near one morning, I’m gonna guess he’s been spiraling for awhile though so upper brass and medical were already aware but this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. They line up all of the omegas in the 100th Brady, Bubbles, Curt, and Gale and essentially put it out there that one of them is gonna have to play at being John’s omega to soothe him just enough to quit acting feral.

Immediately, all eyes turn to Gale and he wishes he could say he’s surprised but John’s his best friend so he gets it. The doctor even admits that John has been begging for “Buck” any time someone tries to get near. The only hesitation he has is when they say John might try to fuck him, and it would best if Gale let him because it’s what would calm John’s alpha the most, that has him freaking out a bit because he’s a virgin and was definitely planning to save himself for mating. Brady catches on to what is making Gale stress and volunteers as tribute.

Gale dismisses it though. John’s his best friends, Brady already has Benny, and while John loves Brady like a little brother they like to antagonize each other. It has to be Gale.

When they start formulating a plan to get Gale in there with minimal pushback Curt pipes up that John is obsessed with Gale’s tits. Brady reluctantly nods in agreement and says John would stop talking about them in Algeria. Bubbles looks as horrified as Gale feels (it’s pretty taboo for omegas to bare their chests but it had been hot as sin) and Chick looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The doctor admits it would help because it would allow for Gale’s scent to be more readily available to soothe John.

They get Gale shirtless, in a robe, and back across base to the officer barracks and are giving him a rundown of how everything might go. It’d be best if he kneeled to show submission, he wants to throw up because he never planned to kneel for anyone even his future mate. He shouldn’t resist, even if John tries to fuck him (they give him something to incapacitate John if he truly doesn’t want it though) and Gale is dying inside because he can’t believe his first time is gonna be in the officer barracks to soothe his feral best friend and not his mate like he always planned.

He can’t remember the last time he was actually nervous like this. Then he’s standing at the entrance, shirtless, and they’re shutting the door behind him and it’s all so terribly real. John sits up in bed and is immediately calling for Buck and it helps soothe some of his nerves.

He grabs the pillow off of his own bed and kneels on it next to John’s bunk and bows his head in submission. John is purring immediately and it soothes something so fundamentally deep inside of Gale that he slumps until his forehead is resting against John’s leg. It has John’s warm whiskey flaring, his purring louder and deeper as he runs a hand through Gale’s hair.

I think they would stay like that for a good long while because it would definitely be doing it for John’s feral alpha, but then he’d slide to the floor in front of Gale so that he could bury his nose against Gale’s mating gland. Gale tenses a little bit, unsure if John is so feral that he might try to mate him then and there. His stress is all for nothing though because John just rests his hands on Gale’s bare waist and licks at his mating gland whimpering the entire time, trying to soothe himself but never taking it further than he knows Gale would be comfortable with even in his feral state.

Once Gale got a little more comfortable and sure that John wasn’t going to bite him or try to fuck him then and there he would take one of John’s hands and place it over one of his pecs. John squeezes it, moaning and hips knocking unintentionally against Gale’s but not seeking anything other than trying to soothe himself. John pulls away from Gale’s neck, peering at him in question and when Gale doesn’t protest, sinks down just enough to start sucking on the nipple not already between his fingers.

John sucks hard and sure like he’s gonna get something out of Gale and it has him gasping up at the ceiling, cupping the back of his head and holding him close, before he’s looking back down and cooing at John. It gets him another deep purr in response and has Gale sinking down until his ass hits his heels and he’s cradling John to his body.

He’s not sure how long it goes on, but it’s long enough that he’s absolutely soaked and panting along with John. Nothing’s come out of his chest, of course, but John’s still sucking determinedly and it’s starting to hurt so he guides John to his other nipple. John growls a little bit but Gale can tell it’s not necessarily at him but they’re both sighing when John latches on to the other one. After an equally long, but indeterminate amount of time John’s sucking slows and he gets back up on the bed so that he’s above Gale, not without licking Gale’s mating gland on the way up.

John’s finally mostly lucid, although still not entirely himself. Gale’s still kneeling as they have a conversation about what it all means and how they’re gonna make it work. John grabs at himself moaning when Gale gives him permission to touch whenever wherever. He’s still hesitant about actual sex though and John promises that even at his most feral he would never do anything Gale didn’t consent to. Gale means more than anyone and anything in the world to John. It has him cooing and rubbing his face against the hand John has been running through his hair again.

It takes a few spells before Gale decides that he’s okay with John fucking him. It comes down entirely to the fact that John kept his promise of not forcing him into anything even at his most feral. Obviously they realize their feelings for each other along the way as more shenanigans happen 😉

[specialagentlokitty]

Walter x reader - a little unsure

Walter O'brian x reader. Either reader is a vigilante (yes. I have a problem. an obsession with vigilante reader. shh.) or is one of his co-workers. Maybe a Tony Starkisc reader? Smart with mechanics and VERY VERY advanced things but not the best with emotions. (like the rest of the team.) their feelings for each other got so bad, even the team had to yell at them their feelings are shared. - @nyxiethesimp 💜

A/N: it’s been a while since I watched the show so sorry if it’s bad 😅

Sitting in front of your desk, you grabbed the wrench next to you and carried on working in the part of the car engine in front of you.

You heard the door to your garage open then it closed.

“You haven’t been in for the past two days.”

You glanced up at the man who walked in then back down to what you were working on and he walked over, sitting in front of you.

“Your case isn’t all that interesting to me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a plain and simple car jacking, that is boring Walter, you know it’s boring too, I don’t see why you took it.”

“There’s more too it, I was actually hoping I would be able to convince you to help. I was going to send Paige since she’s more of communication person, but they told me to come.”

You set the wrench down, then you picked up something else to take apart the engine so you could get at what you needed.

While you were doing that Walter set a few papers on the table.

“There were some microchips in the car, they contain codes for missiles all over the country, they were going to be sold, we need to find them.”

“So, check all the sites, they’ll be up there somewhere.”

“Done that, nothing. Cabe was hoping you could check with some of your informants.”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at Walter, leaning back in your chair.

You held out your hand and he got up, walking around the table to sit on it in front of you, handing them over.

You flicked through them, taking one of them before handing him back the rest.

“Yeah, okay. But he owes me money.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t just work with us, you do the same thing, and you’ll get a regular pay as well.”

Folding up the paper, you set it inside your jacket pocket.

“I don’t like other people Walter, people get in the way, working as a team makes things go slowly and I have no patience for that.”

“But you like the team. Right?”

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t let them come here.”

Walter followed you across the room.

“You don’t let Cabe in.”

“He’s a federal agent, for both our sakes it better he doesn’t know what I do properly, what he doesn’t know can’t get him trouble, and it means I also don’t get arrested.”

“So, will you help?”

You nodded, grabbing the keys to your bike as well your helmet.

“I’ll meet you at yours.”

“Thank you.”

He left and you left a few minutes later, heading to one of the well known underground bars and you walked to the bartender.

You leant over the counter.

“Stolen microchips, what do you know?”

He looked at you.

“Nothing you need to know.”

Humming a little, you grabbed him by the collar, slammed your helmet against his forehead and you shoved him back.

The whole place fell silent.

“Look I’m in a hurry, I have a car I need to fix, a friend who’s waiting for answers, so, let’s try this again. What do you know.”

He gave you some papers and you began following the trail.

You worked fast and brutal, you did what you had to in order to get the job done, and by the end of the day you made your way back to Walter.

Walking through the doors, you made your way to Cabe.

“You owe me.”

“How much do you want?”

Pulling off your helmet you thought for a moment, making your way to Walter’s desk, sitting next to him.

“I’ve changed my mind, no money. I’ll save this for a rainy day.”

“You know there’s some things I can’t bail you out off.”

“I know.”

“So, what did you do to get this, because we couldn’t find it.” Toby said.

You waved your hand dismissively at him, leaning your head on Walter’s shoulder and he looked at you before going back to his work.

You stared at his screen in boredom.

Computers weren’t your thing, but when it came to anything else, that’s where you came in handy.

Yawning slightly, you kicked your feet up on his desk.

“(Y/N) please, that’s unsanitary, put your feet down.”

You grumbled a little but complied, putting your feet back on the floor.

Everybody shared a look at the pair of you, but neither of you noticed it, or the way that the pair of you would occasionally sneak a glance at the other.

“How long until they finally come out with it?” Toby asked.

“At this rate never. Honestly how two people so smart can be so oblivious is beyond me.” Happy said.

“Well, maybe somebody should tell them.” Sylvester suggest.

“That’s not a bad idea, but maybe we should try setting them up first.” Paige suggested.

Everybody immediately agreed with her, since she was the more compassionate of the group.

And that’s what they did, they tried to set you both up on dinners to drinks and nobody else turning up.

They tried everything and neither of you could see how the other felt.

Finally they had enough.

Walter was sat with your in your garage and they walk came bursting through the doors.

“We’ve had enough!” Happy yelled.

You looked up from where you were laid with your head in Walter’s lap.

“Of what?” You asked confused.

“You two are in love with each other! Discuss!”

They all stood there and you turned to Walter confused, and he looked just as confused.

Taking his hand, you led him to your office and closed the door and blinds for privacy.

“I.. I don’t know what they’re talking about..”

You studied him for a moment.

“Is it true?” You asked.

“I.. I don’t.. they’re not..”

He fumbled for his words, not able to get them out.

“Walter.”

He stopped, looking at you.

“Look, we both suck at the whole emotion thing, but Paige doesn’t, neither does Toby, or Cabe, and Happy and Sylverster know more than both of us combined about it.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

You pointed to you, then you pointed at him.

“So, me and you. They’ve seen something, we need to figure it out.”

“Well… I.. I don’t.. you go first.”

“I like you, I get along with you and I don’t want to hit you if that counts for something.”

“You don’t want to hit me?”

“I want to hit a lot of people.”

He nodded his head.

“Well, I.. I suppose that I do enjoy your company…”

You both went quiet.

“So… would you maybe consider dinner..?” He mumbled.

You smiled a little.

“Absolutely, how about now?”

He nodded and you held out your hand, letting him unsurely take it.

Neither of you knew what you were doing, or if you were doing this right, but you decided to just roll with it and see where it went

[simplyholl]

A Big Tip [Loki x F. Reader]

Summary: You and Loki are coworkers. What happens when you find yourself alone with him?

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

W/C: 1K

See my Masterlist here

You roll your eyes at one of your coworker’s dirty jokes. You’re trying to remember your table’s order, and don’t want them to break your concentration. It’s finally your turn at the computer, when the newest server, Loki, struts in. His big frame takes up most of the entry way while the other servers try to get around him with hands full of dirty plates.

He had been your secret obsession since the day he started. Like a moth to a flame you were inexplicably drawn to him. Who could blame you? He was tall, handsome, charming, mischievous, and charismatic. His dark curls were barely contained in the bun resting on the back of his neck, loose strands framing his beautiful face.

Cindy, your best friend, cleared her throat behind you bringing you back to the task at hand. Three servers including her were waiting for their turn. You had long forgotten the order table twelve gave you. You think back to your conversation with them. Was it a hamburger, no a chicken sandwich. You were unsure.

How dare he walk in like he owns the place and distract you completely. You push passed him to ask for your table’s order again. He had the nerve to smirk at you on your way out. He knew the effect he had on you. It was a little unnerving. You made sure to write down what your customers wanted this time, so you wouldn’t mess it up.

You go up the stairs to wait for the screen. You turn around to see Loki right behind you. You’d like to think he was using this computer to be close to you, but this is the one closest to his station. “Do you need anything, darling? You look a little flustered.” He purred in your ear, while placing his hand on your arm.

“No, I’m okay. Just forgot an order.” You could feel his eyes on you while your clumsy fingers fumbled against the screen. As the rush came in, you were almost too busy to think about Loki. Almost. He seemed to be everywhere you were. His blue eyes found you in every area of the restaurant.

You were in the weeds, drowning in customers. You had drawn the short end of the stick and were in a three server section with just you and one lazy coworker. You were sure your head would explode if one more person asked you for extra ranch. Luckily, Cindy and Loki had come down to help you when no one else would.

You put the last drink on your tray, struggling to lift it. Why did every person on your eight top want multiple drinks? It would be difficult to carry the heavy tray through the full dining room and down the stairs to your section. Loki watched you closely the whole time you were preparing the drinks. So it was no surprise when he mockingly asked if you had it.

“Actually, can you carry it for me? I don’t think I can make it downstairs with it.” You give him your best doe eyed look, fluttering your eyelashes. He lifts the tray with ease. You follow him out, appreciating the way his muscles strained against his black button up. He held it for you as you passed out the beverages to each person.

The restaurant had finally closed and you got to change out of your uniform. You were now sporting a low cut tank top and leggings. You sit across from Loki, still in his work uniform, to do your end of shift paperwork. You could tell he was trying not to look at your cleavage. But you caught him peeking over his phone admiring the swell of your chest, now on full display.

You make your way to the back to retrieve your belongings from your locker when a large hand wraps around your delicate wrist stopping you in your tracks. Loki’s grip grows tighter as he walks toward the supply closet. He flips the light on, quickly pushing you inside.

When the door shuts behind him, his eyes darken. He pushes you back against the cool shelf. “What are we doing in here, Loki?” “You have been eye fucking me all night, little one. Don’t be shy now.” His mouth descends on yours. Teeth clashing and tongues gliding against each other, your hands travel along his muscled arms and torso moving to quickly unbutton his shirt.

“We have to be quick, darling. The others will be finished soon.” You nod as he pulls your panties and leggings down your thighs. You unbutton his pants. He is a lot bigger than you expected, and you knew he would be huge. Loki drags a slender finger across your folds. He smirks when he withdraws his soaked digit.

“Wet for me already?” He brings his finger to his lips, a small moan escapes him as he tastes your arousal. He slides his finger past his lips with a loud pop. Loki thrusts up into you, his large hand covers your mouth to stifle your cry. His hot breath on your ear as he shushes you sends shivers down your body.

You can hear footsteps outside the closet, so any sound could lead to you getting caught. He holds you against the shelf each thrust of his hips rattling the bottles of cleaner against each other. He slithers his hand between your writhing bodies. His thumb strums your clit like a skilled guitar player making you see stars as he continues to fuck into you. Your grasp tightens on the sleeves of his work shirt.

He picks up his pace while you move wildly against him chasing your high. You remove your hand from him to grip the shelf, but accidentally topple a vacuum cleaner over. The loud bang would surely alert someone to your hiding spot.

“Fuck it” Loki growls. He presses you harder against the shelf, knocking cleaning supplies to the floor around his feet. The thought of someone finding you wrapped around Loki fuels the flame low in your stomach. His sharp teeth lock down on the smooth skin of your neck.

You claw at his dress shirt covered back as a powerful orgasm rips through you. You can’t help the animalistic cry that leaves your throat. Loki’s hands tighten on your hips. A low growl vibrates against your collarbone as he reaches his release. “No one can know about this, love. It will be our little secret.”

You agree with him as you try to get your wobbly legs used to standing again. You pull your leggings up. “I’ll go out first, wait a few minutes then you can leave.” You tell him, looking back to get one more glance at his exposed chest. You stumble, walking around like a newborn calf.

When you come around the corner, Cindy is waiting for you, amusement dancing in her eyes. She locks her arm with yours and you both giggle passing your other coworkers who are none the wiser.

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @potter-puff007 @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 6

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 ��𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐑 dining table. The fourteen-thousand-dollar books have disappeared. Thank God... I have plans for them. She has the most un-Bella ridiculous grin on her face, and she looks mussed up in a sexy kind of way.

Christian follows me into the living area, and in spite of her I’ve-been-having-a-good-time-all-night grin, Bella eyes him suspiciously.

“Hi Y/N/N.” She leaps up to hug me, then holds me at arm’s length so she can examine me. She frowns and turns to Christian.

“Good morning, Christian,” she says, and her tone is a little hostile.

“Miss Clark,” he says in his stiff formal way.

“Christian, her name is Bella,” Elliot grumbles.

“Bella.” Christian gives her a polite nod and glares at Elliot who grins and rises to hug me too.

“Hi, Y/N,” he smiles, his blue eyes twinkling, and I like him immediately. He’s obviously nothing like Christian, but then they’re adopted brothers.

“Hi, Elliot,” I smile at him, and I’m aware that I’m biting my lip.

“Elliot, we’d better go.” Christian says mildly.

“Sure.” He turns to Bella and pulls her into his arms and gives her a long lingering kiss.

Jeez… get a room. I stare at my feet, embarrassed. I glance up at Christian, and he’s watching me intently. I narrow my eyes at him. Why can’t you kiss me like that? Elliot continues to kiss Bella, sweeping her off her feet and dipping her in a dramatic hold so that her hair touches the ground as he kisses her hard.

“Laters, baby,” he grins.

Bella just melts. I’ve never seen her melt before – the words comely and compliant come to mind. Compliant Bella, boy, Elliot must be good. Christian rolls his eyes and stares down at me, his expression unreadable, although maybe he’s mildly amused. He tucks a stray strand of my hair that has worked its way free from my ear. His eyes soften, and he runs his thumb across my lower lip. My blood sears in my veins. And all too quickly, his touch is gone.

“Laters, baby,” he murmurs, and I have to laugh because it’s so unlike him. But even though I know he’s being irreverent, the endearment tugs at something deep inside me.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” He turns to leave, opening the front door and stepping out on to the porch. Elliot follows him to the car but turns and blows Bella another kiss, and I feel an unwelcome pang of jealousy.

“So, did you?” she asks as we watch them climb into the car and drive off, the burning curiosity evident in her voice.

“No,” I replied, hoping that will halt the questions. We head back into the apartment. “You obviously did, though.” I smirked. Bella always manages to ensnare men. She is irresistible, beautiful, sexy, funny, forward… all the things that I’m not, and I don't mind to honest, it balances our friendship perfectly. Her answering grin is infectious.

“And I’m seeing him again this evening.” She claps her hands and jumps up and down like a small child. She cannot contain her excitement and happiness. I feel happy for her. A happy Bella… this is going to be interesting.

“Christian is taking me to Seattle this evening.”

“Seattle?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you will then?”

“Oh, I don't know...” i fidgeted with my fingers nervously.

“You like him?”

“Yes.”

“Like him enough to… ?”

“Mmmaybe...” I dragged on the word still unsure about this whole sex thing.

She raises her eyebrows.

“Wow. Y/N Y/L/N, finally falling for a man, and it’s Christian Grey – hot, sexy billionaire.”

“Oh yeah – it’s all about the money.” I smirk, and we both fall into a fit of giggles.

“Is that a new blouse?” she asks, and I let her have all the unexciting details about my night.

“Has he kissed you yet?” she asks as she makes coffee.

I blush. “Once.”

“Once!” she scoffs.

I nod, rather shame faced. “He’s very reserved.”

She frowns. “That’s odd.”

“I don’t think odd covers it really,” I murmur.

“We need to make sure you’re simply irresistible for this evening,” she says with dtermination.

Oh no… this sounds like it will be time consuming, “I have to be at work in an hour.”

“I can work with that timeframe. Come on.” Bella grabs my hand and takes me into her bedroom.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The day drags at Clayton’s even though we’re busy. We’ve hit the summer season, so I have to spend two hours restocking the shelves once the shop is closed. It’s mindless work, and it gives me too much time to think. I’ve not really had a chance all day.

Under Bella’s tireless and frankly intrusive instruction, my legs and underarms are waxed to perfection, beauty masks, face and body creams, it reminded me off girl night sleepovers I had as a teenager with the small friend group I had.

I have to convince Bella that this is what I want to do. For some strange reason, she doesn’t trust him, maybe because he’s so stiff and formal. She says she can’t put her finger on it, but I have promised to text her when I arrive in Seattle. I haven’t told her about the helicopter, she’d freak.

I also have the José issue. He’s left three messages and seven missed calls on my cell. He’s also called home twice. Bella has been very vague as to where I am. He’ll know she’s covering for me. She doesn’t do vague. But I have decided to let him stew. I’m still too angry with him.

Christian mentioned some kind of written paperwork, and I don’t know if he was joking or if I’m going to have to sign something. It’s so frustrating trying to guess. And on top of all the angst, I can barely contain my excitement or my nerves. Tonight’s the night!

After all this time, am I ready for this? Probably...I guess... I still don’t understand what Christian Gray sees in me… mousey Y/N Y/L/N - it makes no sense.

He is punctual, of course, and waiting for me when I leave Clayton’s. He climbs out of the back of the Audi to open the door and smiles warmly at me. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” he says.

“Mr. Grey.” I nod politely to him as I climb into the backseat of the car. Taylor is sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Hello, Taylor,” I say.

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N,” his voice is polite and professional. Christian climbs in the other side and clasps my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that I feel all the way though my body.

“How was work?” he asks.

“Fine, too slow though,” I reply, and my voice is husky.

I need to get a grip of myself.

“Yes, it’s been a slow day for me too.” His tone is serious.

“What did you do?” I manage.

“I went hiking with Elliot.” His thumb strokes my knuckles, back and forth, and my heart skips a beat. How does he do this to me?

The drive to the heliport is short and, before I know it, we arrive. I wonder where the fabled helicopter might be. We’re in a built-up area of the city and even I know helicopters need space to take off and land. Taylor parks, climbs out, and opens my car door. Christian is beside me in an instant and takes my hand again.

“Ready?” he asks. I nod and want to say for anything, but I can’t articulate the words as I’m too nervous, too excited.

“Taylor.” He nods curtly at his driver, and we head into the building, straight to a set of elevators. The memory of our kiss this morning comes back to haunt me.

I have thought of nothing else all day. Daydreaming at the register at Clayton’s. Twice Mr. Clayton had to shout my name to bring me back to Earth. To say I’ve been distracted would be the understatement of the year. Christian glances down at me, a slight smile on his lips.

Ha! He’s thinking about it too.

“It’s only three floors,” he says dryly, his gray eyes dancing with amusement. He’s telepathic surely. It’s spooky.

I try to keep my face impassive as we enter the elevator. The doors close, and it’s there, the weird electrical attraction crackling between us, enslaving me. He tightens his grip on my hand, and five seconds later the doors open on to the roof of the building. And there it is, a white helicopter with the name Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. written in blue with the company logo on the side. Surely this is misuse of Company property.

He leads me to a small office where an old timer sits behind the desk.

“Here’s your flight plan, Mr. Grey. All external checks are done. It’s ready and waiting sir. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, Joe.” Christian smiles warmly at him.

Oh. Someone deserving of the polite treatment from Christian, perhaps he’s not an employee. I stare at the old guy in awe.

“Let’s go,” Christian says, and we make our way toward the helicopter. When we’re up close, it’s much bigger than I thought. I expected it to be a roadster version for two, but it has at least seven seats. Christian opens the door and directs me to one of the seats at the very front.

“Sit – don’t touch anything,” he orders as he clambers in behind me.

He shuts the door with a slam. I’m glad that the area is floodlit, otherwise I’d find it difficult to see inside the small cockpit. I sit down in my allotted seat, and he crouches beside me to strap me into the harness. It’s a four-point harness with all the straps connecting to one central buckle. He tightens both of the upper straps, so I can hardly move.

He’s so close and intent on what he’s doing. If I could only lean forward, my nose would be in his hair. He smells, clean, fresh, heavenly, but I’m fastened securely into my seat and effectively immobile. He glances up and smiles, like he’s enjoying his usual private joke, his gray eyes heated. He’s so tantalizingly close. I hold my breath as he pulls at one of the upper straps.

“You’re secure, no escaping,” he whispers, his eyes are scorching. Reaching up, he caresses my cheek, running his long fingers down to my chin which he grasps between his thumb and forefinger. He leans forward and plants a brief, chaste kiss on my lips, leaving me reeling, my insides clenching at the thrilling, unexpected touch of his lips.

“I like this harness,” he whispers.

What?

He sits down beside me and buckles himself into his seat, then begins a protracted procedure of checking gauges and flipping switches and buttons from the mind-boggling array of dials and lights and switches in front of me. Little lights wink and flash from various dials, and the whole of the instrument panel lights up.

“Put your cans on,” he says, pointing to a set of headphones in front of me. I pop them on, and the rotor blades start. They are deafening. He puts his headphones on and continues flipping various switches.

“I’m just going through all the pre-flight checks.” Christian’s disembodied voice is in my ears through the headphones. I turn and grin at him.

“Do you know what you are doing?” I ask. He turns and smiles at me.

“I’ve been a fully qualified pilot for four years, Y/L, you’re safe with me.” He gives me a wolfish grin. “Well, while we’re flying,” he adds and winks at me.

Winking… Christian!

“Are you ready?”

I nod wide eyed.

“Okay, tower. PDX this is Charlie Tango Golf – Golf Echo Hotel, cleared for take-off. Please confirm, over.”

“Charlie Tango - you are clear. PDX to call, proceed to one four thousand, heading zero one zero, over. ”

“Roger tower, Charlie Tango set, over and out. Here we go,” he adds to me, and the helicopter rises slowly and smoothly into the air.

Portland disappears in front us as we head into US airspace, though my stomach remains firmly in Oregon.

Whoa! All the bright lights shrink until they are twinkling sweetly below us. It’s like looking out from inside a fish bowl. Once we’re higher, there really is nothing to see. It’s pitch black, not even the moon to shed any light on our journey. How can he see where we’re going?

“Eerie isn’t it?” Christian’s voice is in my ears.

“How do you know you’re going the right way?”

“Here.” He points his long index finger at one of the gauges, and it shows an electronic compass. “This is an EC135 Eurocopter. One of the safest in its class. It’s equipped for night flight.” He glances and grins at me.

“There’s a helipad on top of the building I live in. That’s where we’re heading.”

Of course there’s a helipad where he lives. I am so out of my league here. His face is softly illuminated by the lights on the instrument panel. He’s concentrating hard, and he’s continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drink in his features frombeneath my lashes. He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, square jawed. He hasn’t shaved, and his stubble makes the prospect doubly tempting.

“When you fly at night, you fly blind. You have to trust the instrumentation,” he said.

“How long will the flight be?” I asked.

“Less than an hour, the wind is in our favor.”

Hmm, less than an hour to Seattle… that’s not bad going, no wonder we’re flying. I have less than an hour before the big reveal. All the muscles clench deep in my belly.

I have a serious case of butterflies. They are flourishing in my stomach. “You okay, Y/N?” He interrupts my thoughts.

“Yep.” My answer is short, clipped, squeezed out through my nerves.

I think he smiles, but it’s difficult to tell in the darkness. Christian flicks yet another switch.

“PDX this is Charlie Tango now at one four thousand, over.” He exchanges information with air traffic control. It all sounds very professional to me. I think we’re moving from Portland’s air space to Seattle International Airport’s.

“Understood Sea-Tac, standing by over and out.”

“Look, over there.” He points to a small pin-point of light in the far distance. “That’s Seattle.”

“Do you always impress women this way? Come and fly in my helicopter?” I ask, genuinely interested.

“I’ve never bought a girl up here, Y/N. It’s another first for me.” His voice is quiet, serious.

That was an unexpected answer. Another first? Oh the sleeping thing, perhaps?

“Are you impressed?”

“I’m awed, Christian.”

He smiles. “Awed?” And for a brief moment, he’s his age again.

I nod.

“You’re just so… competent.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Y/L/N,” he says politely. I think he’s pleased, but I’m not sure.

We ride into the dark night in silence for a while. The bright spot that is Seattle is slowly getting bigger.

“Sea-Tac tower to Charlie Tango. Flight plan to Escala in place. Please proceed. And standby. Over.”

“This is Charlie Tango, understood Sea-Tac. Standing by, over and out.”

“You obviously enjoy this,” I murmur.

“What?” He glances at me. He looks quizzical in the half-light of the instruments.

“Flying,” I reply.

“It requires control and concentration… how could I not love it? Though, my favorite is soaring.”

“Soaring?”

“Yes. Gliding to the layperson. Gliders and helicopters – I fly them both.”

“Oh.” Expensive hobbies. I remember him telling me during the interview. I like reading and occasionally going to the movies. I am out of my depth here.

“Charlie Tango come in please, over.” The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupts my reverie. Christian answers, sounding in control and confident.

Seattle is getting closer. We are on the very outskirts now.

Wow! It looks absolutely stunning. Seattle at night, from the sky…

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Christian murmurs.

I nod enthusiastically. It looks otherworldly – unreal – and I feel like I’m on a giant film set, José’s favorite film maybe, ‘Bladerunner.’ The memory of José’s attempted kiss haunts me. However, guilt isn't what I'm feeling, like I usually do when something happens between me and a close person, like arguments ect.

God, I'm such a people pleaser...

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Christian mutters, and suddenly my blood is pounding in my ears as my heartbeat accelerates and adrenaline spikes through my system. He starts talking to air traffic control again, but I am no longer listening.

We are now flying amongst the buildings, and up ahead I can see a tall skyscraper with a helipad on top. The word Escala is painted in white on top of the building. It’s getting nearer and nearer, bigger and bigger… like my anxiety...

The helicopter slows and hovers, and Christian sets it down on the helipad on top of the building. My heart is in my mouth. I can’t decide if it’s from nervous anticipation, relief or that we’ve arrived alive. He switches the ignition off and the rotor blades slow and quiet until all I hear is the sound of my own erratic breathing.

Christian takes his headphones off, and reaches across and pulls mine off too.

“We’re here,” he says softly.

His look is so intense, half in shadow and half in the bright white light from the landing lights. Dark knight and white knight, it’s a fitting metaphor for Christian. He looks strained. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are tight. He unfastens his seatbelt and reaches over to unbuckle mine. His face is inches from mine.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that don’t you?” His tone is so earnest, desperate even, his gray eyes impassioned. He takes me by surprise.

“I’d never do anything I didn’t want to do, Christian.” And as I say the words, I don’t quite feel their conviction because at this moment in time – I’d probably do anything for this man seated beside me. But this does the trick. He’s mollified.

He eyes me warily for a moment and somehow, even though he’s so tall, he manages to ease his way gracefully to the door of the helicopter and open it. He jumps out, waiting for me to follow, and takes my hand as I clamber down on to the helipad. It’s very windyon top of the building, and I’m nervous about the fact that I’m standing at least thirty stories high in an unenclosed space. Christian wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.

“Come,” he shouts above the noise of the wind. He drags me over to an elevator shaft and, after tapping a number into a keypad, the doors open. It’s warm inside and all mirrored glass. I can see Christian to infinity everywhere I look, and the wonderful thing is, he’s holding me to infinity too. Christian taps another code into the keypad, then the doors close and the elevator descends.

Moments later, we’re in an all-white foyer. In the middle is a round, dark wood table, and on it is an unbelievably huge bunch of white flowers. On the walls there are paintings, everywhere. He opens two double doors, and the white theme continues through the wide corridor and directly opposite where a palatial room opens up. It’s the main living area, double height. Huge is too small a word for it. The far wall is glass and leads on to a balcony that overlooks Seattle.

To the right is an imposing ‘U’ shaped sofa that could sit ten adults comfortably. It faces a state-of-the-art stainless steel – or maybe platinum for all I know - modern fireplace.

The fire is lit and flaming gently. On the left beside us, by the entryway, is the kitchen area. All white with dark wood worktops and a large breakfast bar which seats six.

Near the kitchen area, in front of the glass wall, is a dining table surrounded by chairs. And tucked in the corner is a full size, shiny black grand piano. Of course he probably plays the piano too. There is art of all shapes and sizes on all the walls. In fact, this apartment looks more like a gallery than a place to live.

“Can I take your coat?” Christian asks. I shake my head. I’m still cold from the wind on the helipad.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks. I blink at him. After last night! Is he trying to be funny? For one second, I think about asking for a margarita – but I don’t have the nerve.

“I’m going to have a glass of white wine, would you like to join me?”

“Yes, please,” I murmur. I am standing in this enormous room feeling out of place. I walk over to the glass wall, and I realize that the lower half of the wall opens concertina-style on to the balcony. Seattle is lit up and lively in the background. I walk back to the kitchen area – it takes a few seconds, it’s so far from the glass wall – and Christian is opening a bottle of wine. He’s removed his jacket.

“Pouilly Fumé okay with you?”

“I know nothing about wine, Christian. I’m sure it will be fine.” My voice is soft and hesitant. My heart is thumping. This is seriously rich. Seriously over-the top Bill Gates style wealthy. What am I doing here? You know very well what you’re doing here?

“Here.” He hands me a glass of wine. Even the glasses are rich… heavy, contemporary, crystal. I take a sip, and the wine is light, crisp, and delicious.

“You’re very quiet, and you’re not even blushing. In fact – I think this is the palest I’ve ever seen you, Y/N,” he murmurs. “Are you hungry?”

I shake my head.

“It’s a very big place you have here.”

“Big?”

“Big.” I say.

“It’s big,” he agrees, and his eyes glow with amusement. I take another sip of wine.

“Do you play?” I point my chin at the piano.

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“Mhm”

“Of course you do. Is there anything you can’t do well?”

“Yes… a few things.” He takes a sip of his wine. He doesn’t take his eyes off me. I feel them following me as I turn and glance around this vast room. Room is the wrong word.

It’s not a room – it’s a mission statement.

“Do you want to sit?”

I nod, and he takes my hand and leads me to the large off-white couch. As I sit, I’m

struck by the fact that I feel like Tess Durbeyfield looking at the new house that belongs to the notorious Alec D’Urberville. The thought makes me smile.

“What’s so amusing?” He sits down beside me, turning to face me. He rests his head on his right hand, his elbow propped on the back of the couch.

“Why did you give me Tess of the D’Urbervilles specifically?” I ask. Christian stares at me for a moment. I think he’s surprised by my question.

“Well, you said you liked Thomas Hardy.”

“Is that the only reason?” Even I can hear the disappointment in my voice. His mouth presses into a hard line.

“It seemed appropriate. I could hold you to some impossibly high ideal like Angel Clare or debase you completely like Alec D’Urberville,” he murmurs, and his gray eyes flash dark and dangerous.

“If there are only two choices, I’ll take the debasement.” I whisper, gazing at him. He gasps.

“Y/N, stop biting your lip, please. It’s very distracting. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He frowns. “Would you excuse me a moment?” He disappears through a wide doorway on the far side of the room. He’s gone for a couple of minutes and returns with a document.

“This is a non-disclosure agreement.” He shrugs and has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “My lawyer insists on it.” He hands it to me. I’m completely bemused. “If you’re going for option two, debasement, you’ll need to sign this.”

“And if I don’t want to sign anything?”

“Then it’s Angel Clare high ideals, well, for most of the book anyway.”

“What does this agreement mean?”

“It means you cannot disclose anything about us. Anything, to anyone.”

I stare at him in disbelief. Holy shit. It’s bad, really bad, and now I’m very curious to know.

“Okay. I’ll sign.”

He hands me a pen. “Aren’t you even going to read it?”

“No.”

He frowns again.

“Y/N, you should always read anything you sign,” he admonishes me.

“Christian, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn’t talk about us to anyone, anyway. Even Bella. So it’s immaterial whether I sign an agreement or not. If it means so much to you, or your lawyer… whom you obviously talk to, then fine. I’ll sign.”

He gazes down at me, and he nods gravely.

“Fair point well made, Miss Y/N.”

I lavishly sign on the dotted line of both copies and hand one back to him. Folding the other, I place it my purse and take a large swig of my wine. I’m sounding so much braver than I’m actually feeling.

“Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?”

Fuck. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.

“No, Y/N it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.”

My mouth drops open. Fuck hard! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why are we looking at a playroom? I am mystified.

“You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly.

“No, Y/N, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.” He stands, holding out his hand. I let him lead me back out to the corridor. On the right of the double doors, where we came in, another door leads to a staircase. We go up to the second floor and turn right. Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks yet another door and takes a deep breath.

“You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on stand-by to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It’s fine whatever you decide.”

“Just open the door, Christian.”

He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in.

And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.

What the fuck.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @sophsss867 , @mrapineapplecatfr

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3