#I’ve had people in the past do this (thankfully not now)

[hoboblaidd]

Today's headcanon is a bit different. It's about people knowing whether Solas is the Dread Wolf during Inquisition.

tl;dr - absent a very compelling reason, normal people wouldn't know he's Fen'harel. He is cagey about his past,and at a certain point it’s clear something is going on, but there is no connective tissue between him and Fen'harel until we learn that last piece of information.

In hindsight, yes, there are clues all over the place that he's the Dread Wolf. He's got a lot of little giveaways in dialogue, but they're more subtle than say Blackwall's dancing around his reveal. It's like "a puzzle with only half of the pieces", to quote Dorian, or trying to figure out a message hidden in a picture without the cipher that unlocks its meaning. Once you have the cipher - Solas is Fen'harel - the clues are obvious. But without it, he's just an increasingly enigmatic font of knowledge on all things related to the Fade. Even the Evanuris warned that he excels at disguising himself. If they couldn’t ferret him out, neither can a normal person.

Solas' lies are founded in truth, which makes them more believable. Look at his conversation with Blackwall about Skyhold: "How did you find this place?" "I looked." It's cagey, but it's also true and in character. It fits perfectly with what the game has told us about him since Haven. All of his half-truths do. When asked why he's guarded, he believably explains it away as being a wary apostate surrounded by a Chantry that would turn him Tranquil if he was in a Circle. He says as much to Vivienne. As the game goes on, there are more cracks in his story ("when were you last at court?"), but none of them lead to the "Dread Wolf."

The Temple of Mythal is a place where I can reasonably see people being like "hang on." I was when I first played. But I didn't connect it to "Dread Wolf" because there wasn't that cipher/connective tissue we need to reach that conclusion. At most, I thought he might actually be a sentinel. That's a more logical step than "he knows a lot about elves so he must be the elven god of trickery and rebellion." There's simply no foundation for that leap.

My measuring tape for this is Vivienne and Bull. They're both incredibly clever, and if anyone was to ferret out his secret based on his guarded responses, it'd be them. They are suspicious of his "lack of personal history" and unique style of magic. But even they, shrewd as they are, don't reach the Dread Wolf conclusion. No one does unless the Inquisitor finds the 4 clues in Trespasser, and that's two years after Corypheus' defeat.

Yes, his magic is very old, but during Inquisition he's not at full power. He's basically half of himself. Compare his magic in Inquisition versus Trespasser: in Trespasser, it's effortless, while in Inquisition, his magic is nothing more than what we see from Dorian or Vivienne. Neither Dorian nor Vivienne comment on him having great power. Vivienne even digs that his magic is unrefined. The only times we see him exhibit more power than we'd expect are: (1) the effortless torch lighting right before the journey to Skyhold; (2) his removal of the vallaslin; and (3) his shutting down Cole's empathetic reach into his feelings/memories.

People can't "sense" he's the Dread Wolf, or even someone with a huge powerbase. Cole is an exception, one I might make for other spirit muses. They might clock him as very old, living in a time where "the songs were the same", but even Cole's lines about him are not explicitly "Dread Wolf" related until Trespasser.

[no-144444]

guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. 

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Project: Aeri

synopsis: you get paired with the campus’ mean girl Aeri Uchinaga to work on a semester long project together

cw: cursing, tension, alcohol, rich/mean girl aeri, angst (?) idk, it's barely suggestive near the end, barely proofread, college au! reader runs track and aeri is a cheerleader but it really doesn’t pertain to the plot too much! also I don't think i used any pronouns for the reader :D

word count: 6.1k

notes!! hi (: this was fun so fun to write!! I loveeee the dynamic between reader and aeri hehe

Lmk how you feel about this or if you'd just like to chat!

read part two here!!!

You found yourself with a decent amount of time, arriving at your lecture hall with a good 15 minutes to spare. When you got through the door, your eyes looked through the room, scanning for the perfect seat, preferably in the back.

A fair number of students had claimed their spots but thankfully, the seat you had set your sights on remained empty. With a soft plop, you settled into your seat, ready for your last first class ever! (finally)

You mindlessly scrolled through instagram before a girl walked past you in the aisle trying to get to a seat. A snobby “oops” escaped her lips as her designer leather purse missed your head by a hair. Her purse may have missed you but her excessive amount of perfume did not.

You slumped back in your seat, stifling your frustration just as the professor began setting up her laptop, fumbling with the projector. But all your irritation fizzled out the moment you caught sight of the girl again, now seated a few seats from you. A pretty familiar face.

You sighed, the earlier instance clicking in your head after recognizing who it was.

Aeri Uchinaga.

Of course.

The name itself was practically legendary around campus. Aeri or better known as Giselle to her inner circle—was sort of everyone’s campus celebrity as she was effortlessly popular and untouchably cool. She was the girl everyone wanted to befriend, date, or at least be seen with. Aeri was on the cheer squad and she was the one who had it all—beauty, charm, and an air of superiority that made your skin crawl. 

It’s not like you disliked her per se, but it was her superiority complex that irked the living shit out of you. It bothered you how much of a bitch she was.

The professor, blissfully unaware of your internal groaning, launched into a painfully slow breakdown of the syllabus. You tried to pay attention, but your mind drifted as she agonizingly detailed each project and the writing part of it. Luckily, no exams—just two parts of a project to do for the whole semester.  

How is this an hour and fifteen minutes you thought as you sighed, slumping back into your seat

“So, throughout my years of teaching I’ve done these partner projects. I have asked for feedback each year. A lot of my students expressed that the most difficult part of the semester project was initially finding a partner. I know you’re all adults but this is a great way to make friends you normally wouldn’t speak to! So, I’ve already randomly assigned you partners! When I call your name can you please raise your hand and find your partner” She beamed at her great idea

Honestly she did have a point, and it was less work/anxiety trying to find a partner 

She listed pairs after pairs until she said name making your ears perk up 

“Y/n..  L/n !” Her eyes scanned the room for you

You raised your hand from way back and did a small wave paired with a bright smile

“Oh! Hi- and your partner is... Aeri Uchinaga!” Her eyes scanned the room again looked for a raised hand 

Oh of course

She didn’t scan long as the girl that shuffled passed you earlier rose her hand with a fake smile

Despite Aeri’s complex, it wasn’t hard to see why people gravitated towards her. Her hair was in a perfect ponytail and you caught a glimpse of a smile that could disarm anyone. Her demeanor was effortlessly charming and her presence dominated each and any room she was in. 

She was a bit intimidating, you had to admit

And you? Well, you were a runner. Literally. Your life kinda revolved around those early morning track practices and late-night study sessions. The university’s track team didn’t exactly have the same hype as the football team, basketball team or the cheer squad that went with them. 

But you didn’t mind, you were perfectly content with not being in the spotlight and pretty happy with the (very) small fan group you had attracted throughout your four years.

You just didn’t crave attention the way Aeri seemed to

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. Out of all the people in your large lecture, it had to be her.

You tried to play it off, extending an olive branch to her through a kind smile–Aeri caught your eye again, her smile dropping the second the professor looked away. She didn’t seem any more thrilled about the arrangement than you were– but at least you tried to fake it! You could practically hear her thoughts: Great, stuck with you.

You slumped back into your seat, inwardly groaning.

What. A. Bitch. 

Class ended with the usual shuffle of students packing up their belongings, but you remained in your seat, feeling the weight of the project announcement settle heavily in your chest. The thought of working with the Aeri Uchinaga was... daunting, to say the least. For most people, partnering with her for an entire semester would be a dream come true, but you couldn’t care less about her social status or the attention she commanded. Her world of endless appearances and surface-level bullshit wasn’t one you ever wanted to step into.

As you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, a voice stopped you.

"Hey."

You turned to see Aeri making her way down the aisle toward you, her steps purposeful, confidence radiating from her like always. “Let me have your number,” she said sharply. It wasn’t a request but more of a command.

You hesitated, offering a tentative way out. “I mean, I can just handle the project myself and put your name on it. You don’t seem too excited about working together.”

Aeri paused just a few feet away, her expression unreadable but her eyes flashed a flicker of consideration. “If this was any other class, I’d let you do it and wouldn’t think twice,” she replied, her voice clipped. “But my dad says I actually need to pass this one. So, no, I can’t coast through.”

The bluntness in her words caught you off guard. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more nervous. You sighed softly, “I see.”

Aeri extended her hand without a word, and you typed in your number. She glanced at it briefly, then slid her phone into her bag, her expression never really changing.

"Thanks," she said, the word sounding more like an obligation than gratitude. She muttered a quick  “I’ll text you.” And without even waiting for a response, she walked off right past you, already scrolling through her phone as if you or your interaction had barely registered.

You stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure, your thoughts swirling. 

What a fucking bitch. 

The reality slowly settled in as you made your way out of the lecture hall...

You’d be spending more time with her than you ever imagined nor cared for.

A few days passed, and true to her word, you got a text from a number:

"It’s Aeri. Come over to my place at 6. We’ll start on the project then." With an address attached.

No pleasantries, no extra fluff. It was straightforward—just like her.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you showed up at her apartment, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building itself was pristine, the type of place you’d expect from someone who never had to worry about rent money. The lobby alone screamed "daddy’s money," with its sleek and modern decor.

When you reached Aeri’s door, she greeted you with a casual nod, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on, let’s get started.”

Her apartment was just as fancy as you imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with natural light, and sleek designer furniture was perfectly arranged, like something out of a magazine. It wasn’t just nice—it was borderline intimidating. You couldn’t help but feel out of place in your university hoodie and sweatpants.

“Nice place,” you muttered as you took your shoes off by the door.

“Thanks,” Aeri replied nonchalantly, already making her way to a small table where her laptop was open and ready. “Let’s try to knock out the outline for the project tonight.”

The evening went smoother than you’d initially imagined it to go, and to your surprise, Aeri was focused and typing away at her laptop. She was of course still cold, only speaking to you about the project and there was plenty of chilling silence.

Three weeks had already passed since the project began and you’re already at your wits end with her. You have made every effort fucking possible to be nice to Aeri. Every time you went over to her apartment you tried your hardest to alleviate the awkward silence. You’d ask about her day, how the cheer team was doing, or what her plans for the weekend were. But most of the time, you were met with a huff, a roll of the eyes, or a dismissive answer that felt like she couldn’t care less(she couldn’t). Still, you pushed through and your kind heart gave Aeri the benefit of the doubt.

But today was different.

You’ve had a long day. After leaving Aeri’s apartment last night at 1AM, you were up again by 5AM to get ready for your track meet. You had planned to sleep on the bus ride to the meet, but you remembered a paper you still needed to finish for another class, so instead of sleeping, you spent the entire ride hunched over your laptop, working.

The meet itself was grueling. You competed in four different events, your body screaming for rest by the end of it. What stung the most was your individual race—the one you were supposed to win. You lost by 0.5 seconds. It was frustrating knowing how much time and effort you had poured into preparing for this moment, only to fall short by the tiniest margin.

By the time you got back to your apartment at 8PM, you were completely drained, both physically and emotionally. You had barely collapsed onto your couch when your phone buzzed.

It was Aeri.

Her message had a cold urgency that made your eye twitch. 

"You done yet? Come over already. You said you’d be done by 7:30. I have something to do at 11."

You thought about ignoring it. You thought about telling her off right then and there. But instead, you sighed, had a quick shower, changed into something more comfortable, and made your way to her place, frustration bubbling beneath your surface.

When you finally arrived at her apartment, exhausted and frustrated, Aeri barely looked up from her phone while giggling at something. 

“So, I did the third section of part two today. Look over it,  kay’? ” Not even a greeting nor eye-contact. At this point you were used to it but today it rubbed you the complete wrong way.

You swallowed it, you couldn’t help but try with her. “Yeah.. I can do that” You tried to excuse her behavior with “that’s just how she is”

For the first few minutes, you worked in silence, one-sided tension from your end was building in the air around you like a heavy cloud.

“So.. how was your day today?” You politely asked while making some grammatical adjustments to her part

“Good.”

“Oh good, did you do anything?” Trying to lead with a better question this time

“No.” 

“Well, I had a track meet today and Aeri!  it was so–” You excitedly began your anecdote with a chuckle, in hopes of sharing a story for conversation’s sake.

“Cool.” She interrupted, not even looking up from her laptop 

Your smile instantly dropped and you tried your best to keep everything in but after everything you had been through today along with these few weeks, something inside you finally snapped.

You shut your laptop harder than you meant to and looked up at her, your voice was tight with frustration. “Can you at least try to pretend to enjoy my company?”

Aeri glanced up, her eyes widening slightly surprised at your tone. “Excuse me?” her eyebrow raising in defense

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you for weeks,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I ask about your day, your stupid ass cheer team, and all I get is a roll of your eyes or some half-assed response. I’m really trying here, but it’s like fucking pulling teeth to have a simple ass conversation with you.”

Aeri blinked, clearly not expecting this 'out-of-character' outburst. “What? I– ”

You cut her off, your emotions finally spilling over “Please don’t ‘what’ me Aeri,” tears of frustration or exhaustion glistened in your eyes, “You think this is how I want to be spending MY Saturday night? You think this is how I want to spend each or every other day? I ALSO don’t want to be here. I’m so fucking tired Aeri but here I am because YOU wanted me here to work on this stupid fucking project even though I told you I had a meet today. Or did you just not care to remember?” You stood up, placing your laptop in your bag with a sharp motion. “You know what? We don’t even have to do this together. You can just text me if you have any questions, and I’ll do the same. We shouldn’t waste more of each other’s time”

Aeri’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. She just stared at you, stunned, as you turned on your heel and walked out of her apartment without looking back. This was the first time someone had spoken up against the ‘untouchable’  Aeri Uchinaga.

Aeri’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She couldn’t quite place a reason as to why she felt like she wanted to cry. Maybe she enjoyed the idea of being around someone so kind and genuine as you.

For the next week and a half, you didn’t hear from Aeri. You worked on the project alone, silently making adjustments and adding content without bothering to ask for her input. She hadn’t reached out but she did notice your silent additions while you genuinely couldn’t care. You were just frustrated because you really thought she wasn’t how she seemed.

But then, after days of silence, your phone buzzed with a text from her:

“Can you come over Y/n?” 

“Please?”

You stared at the message for a long moment, debating whether to go or not. But something about the way she said “please” tugged at you. Reluctantly, you agreed.

“Omw”

When you arrived at her apartment, the energy between you was completely different from before. Aeri opened the door, her usual confidence replaced with something more.. Timid?  She stepped aside to let you in, her eyes, for once, weren’t glued to her phone and onto yours.

The silence between you was thick, uncomfortable. Normally, you would have made an effort to break it, but this time, you remained cold.

“Hey so, how was your day?” She asked

After a few moments, you spoke up

“I think we should just get this section done and over with” you said flatly, settling onto the table without even glancing in her direction.

Aeri hesitated, biting her lip as she sat beside you. For once, she didn’t have her usual snarky remarks or her dismissive scoffs. She just quietly opened her laptop and got to work. The silence between you felt suffocating. Every now and then, you’d catch Aeri glancing at you from the corner of her eye, her usual sharp confidence was completely absent. She seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting more than usual as she worked.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aeri broke the silence.

“Y/n...” she started, her voice soft and hesitant. You didn’t look up, keeping your focus on your laptop.

“I... I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper. 

That statement caught your attention. You slowly lifted your eyes from the screen, glancing at her. She wasn’t looking at you, her gaze fixed on her hands as she fidgeted with her perfectly done acrylic nails.

“I don’t think I’m used to people spending time with me just because they want to,” she continued, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard before. “Most people either want something from me or whatever. I didn’t know how to handle it when you actually tried to get to know me. And I guess I pushed you away because of that.”

She sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as her words lingered in the air. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just... didn’t know what to do with someone who cared.”

You stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. Part of you had expected her to never acknowledge the way she’d been treating you, but now that she had, you couldn’t help but soften. Her vulnerability felt real, and it was clear she wasn’t used to letting people see this side of her.

A small, shy smile crept onto your face as you leaned back slightly. “Did you miss my attention or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to ease the tension.

Aeri finally looked up, rolling her eyes playfully as they met yours. “You know, I actually did, you idiot,” she quipped back, a small smirk tugging at her lips. But as she continued, her voice grew softer, more serious. “I honestly didn’t think I would... or that I would care, but when you stopped trying…” She paused, her tone becoming more vulnerable. “I noticed.. or that I realized I actually missed you... missed having someone who wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around them.”

Her words settled between you, and in that moment, you realized something. The cold, distant facade Aeri had been putting up wasn’t about you at all—it was about her. She had been pushing you away because that’s what she was used to. That’s how she protected herself from getting hurt.

“You had some way of showing that” You let out a small chuckle with a soft sigh. The anger you’d been holding onto for the past week and a half slowly melting away. “You could’ve just said that earlier ya know?” you replied gently, your voice free of the coldness it had held before.

She offered you a small but genuine, almost shy smile, and for the first time, it felt like the walls between you were starting to come down. 

“I’m sorry too, Aeri,” you added, offering her your goofy smile. The air felt lighter now, and for the first time in weeks, you both seemed to be on the same page.

She really did have a smile that could disarm anyone. 

Another three weeks had passed, and after that night, you found yourself spending more and more time with Aeri. At first, it was just to work on the project, but as the days went by, things slowly began to shift. You learned to navigate her moods, her sarcasm, and even her occasional backhanded compliments. To your surprise, Aeri started to let go of her ‘mean-girl’ persona.

She no longer seemed as guarded with you, and the more time you spent together, the more she let you see sides of her that weren’t wrapped up in the image of being the perfect cheerleader or the richest girl on campus.

It wasn’t until one evening that everything truly changed.

You were back at her apartment for what was supposed to be one of your final work sessions before the project deadline. As usual (now), Aeri was focused for most of the evening yet still actively conversing, but as the hours ticked by, you noticed her energy faltering.

“Ahh~ fuck! We’ve been at this for way too long,” she finally said, closing her laptop with a sigh. 

“Let’s take a break.”

You leaned back in your chair, “Thank god you said that,”  stretching your arms above your head. ”I’m starting to lose it too”

Aeri stood and walked to her kitchen, rummaging through her fridge before pulling out a couple of drinks. “Wine or White Claws?” she asked, holding them up with a smirk. “I thinkkk~ we deserve a little something for surviving this long.”

You hesitated, glancing between the two options. “Uhh~ wines too classy for the occasion,” you said with a laugh, completely taken aback at her sudden behavior

“White Claw it is,” she said, tossing one to you before cracking open her own. She plopped down beside you with a smirk. “To surviving this stupid project,” she said, raising her can in a mock toast.

“To surviving, Ms. Uchinaga,” you echoed, tapping your drink against hers.

You took a sip, the cold fizz of the seltzer hitting your tongue, but your face instinctively scrunched up at the taste.

Aeri noticed and burst into laughter. “Not a fan, Y/n?”

“It’s free, so I can’t really complain,” you replied with a grin. “But if I’m being honest, I prefer beer.”

“Ew! Beer? Really?” she cringed playfully, shaking her head. “It’s like carbonated piss!”

“Oh, so you know what piss tastes like? Weirdo,” you teased without missing a beat. 

Aeri's mouth dropped open in mock offense, and she gave you a playful shove. “Shut the fuck up you’re soo annoying!” 

You both laughed, the tension that had lingered for so long between the two of you seemed to dissipate, replaced by something softer.

You saw a side of Aeri that you hadn’t seen before—one that wasn’t wearing her usual cold mask. For once, she was real. Laughing about stupid things, opening up about her dad, venting about her struggles with balancing school and her social life.

Somewhere throughout the conversation, Aeri had absentmindedly turned on a random show in the background, though neither of you paid much attention to it. The drinks kept flowing, and you two lost count after a while, but it didn’t matter. You both found yourselves laughing at god knows what, the sound filling the room. But when the laughter finally died down, the air between you shifted again—heavier with something unsaid yet undeniably present.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The noise from the TV faded into the background as the silence between you, heavy with something mutually unspoken.

Aeri smiled softly, her guard lowered even more this time. “You’re not as bad as I thought, ya know?”

You laughed nervously, “You’re also not exactly what I expected either, Ms. Uchinaga.”

“Well, who is Ms. Uchinaga to you, hmm~?” she asked, lazily sipping her drink.

You paused, taken aback from the heavy question.

“Well, at first, Ms. Uchinaga was a bit... stuck up and... kind of a bitch,” you teased with a chuckle. But then your tone softened as you continued, “But now, I see someone who's actually really hard-working and driven. She’s not cold—she’s just protective of herself. She’s witty, smart, and honestly? One of the greatest people I've met. I’m really lucky I get the pleasure of knowing her.”

You shrugged, finishing your drink while reaching for another, and Aeri smiled, something soft yet needy flickered in her eyes.

She met your eyes and the moment lingered—just the two of you, sitting in her ridiculously nice apartment, sharing drinks and paired with a conversation that was so.. intimate.

Your held eye contact had so much unspoken tension. Her eyes were basically longing for you.  

As much as you wanted to kiss her,  something held you back. 

Maybe it was the fear of misreading the situation? Or maybe you were both afraid to cross that boundary. 

So, as much as you cherished the soft, tender moment, you let it pass, pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind as you broke eye contact to take a big gulp of your freshly opened drink. 

You paused, glancing at your half-full can before turning your gaze back to Aeri. Her smile lingered as she lazily sipped her drink. 

You felt your heart racing as you decided to push the moment just a bit further. “Well... who is Y/n to you?” you asked, your voice soft but direct. “I just shared who you are to me, Uchinaga”

Aeri blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her drink froze halfway to her lips, and she lowered it slowly, her eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words.

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression was contemplative. She placed her drink in her lap and leaned back slightly, her gaze dropping as she fidgeted with the nails again. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—more like she was deciding how honest she wanted to be.

“Y/n...is” Aeri started, her voice softer than before. “Different.” She glanced up, meeting your eyes, and you could see the hesitation in hers. “Kind. Not like most people I know. You pushed yourself into my life, and you still... stuck around, even when I wasn’t the easiest person to be around.”

She let out a quiet laugh, more at herself than anything. “Honestly, I didn’t get it at first. Like.. Why you kept trying with me? But now... I think I do.” her voice hinted at  knowing something. 

Her fingers traced the edge of her can, her voice quiet but steady. “And you’re patient. And I’m not used to that. You’ve seen sides of me that I don’t let most people see, and I think... I’ve been scared of that.”

You swallowed, her words hanging in the air. “Scared?”

“Yeah... I think so,” she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. “Like I said before, I’m not really used to people sticking around just to get to know me. They’ve always stuck around to use me for some type of gain. But you... you’ve just been here. And I think at first, I was afraid that you’re gonna turn out like everyone else but now I’m scared because I don’t feel the need to push you away”

A confession?

The weight of her words pressed down on you, the vulnerability in her tone echoing in the room. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, the truth of what she’d just admitted settling between you both. You could feel the walls between you crumbling, and this time, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment—it was real, raw.

You smiled gently, leaning forward just a little. “I’m glad you’re not pushing me away,” you said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her own fidgeting one, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not.” Aeri’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, her eyes softening.

Both of your eyes flickered to each other's lips, though the distance between them never closed.

After a few days of wrapping up the project, your mind kept drifting back to that night. The intimate moment between you and Aeri replayed in your thoughts, and the regret of not kissing her gnawed at you. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever reach out again, if she even wanted to, or maybe she was waiting for you to reach out? 

But then, as if she had been reading your racing mind, there she was. Full of surprises, like always.

A text from Aeri popped up on your phone unexpectedly

“Y/n! Come to this party tonight (:”

You stared at the message for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face like a fool while your fingers hovered over the screen as you debated your response.

"Where? And why? You miss me too much, Uchinaga? Lol," you typed back, trying to play it cool, though your heart raced as you hit send.

Her reply came almost immediately.

“Sig Chi House! Starts at 9. And duh, I wanna see you there ;)”

Your heart fluttered at the last part, the winky face sending a warm buzz through your chest. You reread the message, biting back a grin, unable to shake the excitement that suddenly pulsed through you.

Aeri Uchinaga what are you doing to me 

Sig Chi was exactly how you remembered it—loud music, a packed crowd, and the heavy smell of liquor and cheap cologne wafting through the air. It didn’t take long to remember why you stopped coming.

As you weaved through the party, you managed to snag a beer off a random table (which you quickly chugged and put back on the table) before spotting her in the kitchen. She was surrounded by a small group of her cheerleader friends that you recognized and one guy you didn’t, all laughing and drinking.

Despite her simple crop top and jeans, she stood out effortlessly. Her hair fell in perfect waves down her back, like a dark waterfall catching the party lights, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

Then her eyes landed on you, and for a split second, something flickered in her expression. She quickly excused herself from the group, making her way over to you with two drinks in hand—a solo cup in one and a beer in the other.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug, her scent a mix of straight vodka and the sweet perfume you remembered from the first day of class. Her smile was wide and genuine. "I wasn’t sure you’d come, but I saved you a beer."

“Wow, thanks, Aeri,” you said, doing your best to keep your nerves in check as you realized she remembered your favorite drink. “Couldn’t make you suffer without me for too long, right?” you added with a playful smirk.

Aeri laughed, nudging you lightly. "Oh, shut up!” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “But I’m glad you came."

She then began going off about something that looked important, but with the noise of the party and the way her lips moved a mile a second, you couldn’t quite catch it. Honestly, you probably just looked like a lovesick puppy, completely entranced by her without even processing a word. Just perfectly content being around her.

“Are you even listening to me?” She tried to say over the music, her eyebrows furrowed

“What are you even saying?” you asked, leaning down to hear her better, the height difference making it harder.

Aeri leaned in closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder close to your neck. Her breath was warm against your ear, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine. “Let’s go outside, I can’t hear a fucking thing in here!” she laughed, her voice low. Before you could respond, she wrapped her arm around yours, leading you through the crowded house and out the back door. 

The noise of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the cool night air. For a moment, it felt like the party was miles away, just the two of you caught in an orbit only you could understand.

“Ah~” Aeri sighed, stretching an arm above her head. “This is sooo much better.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you sighed, raising your drink slightly.

She leaned in a bit, a playful smile on her face, her voice slightly slurred. “So... you’re not much of a party person, huh?”

You chuckled. “What gave me away?”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she laughed softly. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when I saw you inside. You looked so lost,” she teased, then giggled. “It was cute.”

You opened your mouth to say something but something or someone interrupted, causing you both to turn your heads 

The porch door swung open, and the guy you had noticed earlier stepped out. He carried himself with the arrogance of someone used to getting what he wanted, his greasy gaze glued to Aeri like she was the prize of the night.

“Giselle, I didn’t see you run off earlier,” he said, sliding in too close, completely oblivious to your presence.

You saw how Aeri stiffened slightly but forced a smile, clearly not interested in making a scene. “Hi Mark,” she scoffed, her voice cool, though the venom was unmistakable.

Mark leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against Aeri’s, his smirk making your blood boil. You had no right to feel this possessive, but something surged within you at the sight of him invading her space.

“You wanna.. come back to my place after?” His words were extremely slurred, his eyes quickly shot to you  “You’re hot too, you can come if you want,” he added with a smug grin, as if he was doing you both a favor by suggesting it.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, reaching out to gently pull Aeri back toward you. She glanced at you, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before you gave her a look she hadn’t seen from you before. Jealousy and desire.

Aeri raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your boldness. Mark noticed, his cocky smirk faltering.

“She’s already got plans to come to mine, so you can just fuck off” you said, keeping your voice steady even though your heart was pounding.

Aeri, catching onto your energy, stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. She turned to Mark, her tone ice-cold. “I don’t even know why you would ever think to ask me that?” she asked, emphasizing the absurdity of his request, her head tilting slightly as if she couldn’t believe the audacity.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by Aeri’s cold tone. “Wow chill.. No need to be such a stuck-up bitch,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he stumbled back. His gaze flicked to you, bitterness in his eyes. “Fuck you too”

You didn’t realize Aeri was holding onto you until you started to step toward Mark. As soon as he was gone, Aeri turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, look at you,” she teased, her voice low. “Didn’t know we had plans tonight.”

“Oh whatever, ” You tried to play it cool, but your heart was still racing from the surge of possessiveness you hadn’t expected. “I just said that because I didn’t like how close he was getting. He seemed like a total douchebag too.” You huffed

Aeri chuckled, stepping in even closer, her breath warm against your neck. “Were you jealous or something n/n?”

Your cheeks burned. “Well- no! I…He was just being an asshole.”

She grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Uh-huh~ Well, for the record, I liked it.” Her voice dropped, more serious now, as her hand brushed against yours. “You were kinda hot.”

“Oh, shut up.” You tried your best to shrug her off, but the burning red tips of your ears gave you away.

Aeri tilted her head, her teasing grin widening. “Now, I’m curious,” she said. “Was that all it was? Or do you have something you wanna tell me?”

You blinked, you were soooo caught but still feigned innocence. “What! No..”

“You pulling me away from that guy back there,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned back. “You really did look like you were about to tackle him ya know? Was it really just because he was an asshole?” she giggled, she was so messing with you right now

You felt your face heat up. “It wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

“You’re cute” She laughed, her amusement lighting up the darkness of the night. "Relax, I’m jus–” 

You had to say something, even if it made you feel like a fool. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Okay fine Aeri it’s because I like you and I have for a while now so of course I didn’t like seeing anyone flirt with you or let alone talk like that to yo–” You said it so quickly, you barely breathed between the words. But even in her tipsy state, Aeri understood you perfectly

Before you could finish, Aeri stepped forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and sudden, cutting off your words. The kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was full of the tension that had been building between you for weeks.

When she pulled back, she let out a soft, teasing breath. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“What?” you breathlessly asked, your eye wide

“I like you too, stupid,” she whispered, her lips brushing yours as she spoke. “For a while now too”

“Wait, what?” You blinked, trying to process what just happened

“Really?” You managed to get out

“Yes! You dumbass,”  she smirked, her voice a low murmur. “Now shut the fuck up and kiss me again before I change my mind.”

Who were you to deny Aeri Uchinaga?

Maybe now she really did have plans to come over tonight.

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face (Part 3)

A/N: I know I said I always succumb to peer pressure, but that did not need to be tested. Also if I did a Hotch(or Spencer) taglist, would anyone be interested, also.. how do you do a taglist?? I may be 20 and from the UK, but I have only been using tumblr for about two months, I’m learning (slowly). [I’ve made a form for a taglist!! it’s underneath the parts!!]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: Little does the team know, their little receptionist and their Unit Chief had been closer for a lot longer than any of them knew. And while he’s brilliant at hiding it, she is now.

Word Count: 825

Warnings: please, stop requesting the fluff it hurts my little heart

part 1! and 2!!

be added to the taglist!!

Honestly, she could come to work with a massive neon sign floating above her head saying ‘stupidly in love with Aaron Hotchner’ and it would have probably the same effect as she normally does to him.

While he goes through the rules, needing to check about whether their relationship - yes, relationship - was actually legal, they needed to keep it secret.

A serious conversation they’d had over dinner well over six months ago, one that she’d seem to conveniently forget whenever they were actually in the office together. Thankfully that isn’t very often, unless he’s personally asked for files she stays by her desk.

Sometimes, he will admit, he requests reports just to get her into the office, but not very often.

However, it seemed to have been just often enough for his coworkers - Emily, mostly - to realise. From there, and after getting everyone else to join her, they were trying to find exactly how much the pair actually cared for each other.

Crowding together at the round table, quickly giving everything they’d noticed before Hotch arrived.

Emily starts, grinning at both Morgan and Spencer, nothing better than a bit of office gossip.

“So, she doesn’t hide anything. But, we’re all well aware that he sometimes uses excuses to get her into his office. But I noticed that she always leaves post-it notes on the files that she does give him, and they do look sickeningly sweet. It’s hard to believe Hotch actually likes that.”

Spencer chimes in, wringing his fingers lightly. He loves gossip as much as the next person, but the receptionist is a sweetheart and treats him so kindly, plus he doesn’t really believe in talking about other people’s business.

However, he’s invested in her happiness, and knows that there’s more to the pair than meets the eye.

“Well.. he smiles at her, more than I’ve ever really seen. And he does things for her that he wouldn’t do for anyone else. He helped her set up her desk and made sure she settled properly with the team.. plus Penelope found the paperwork and he requested her to be moved up.”

“What?! She didn’t tell me that!” Morgan looked pretty dejected, and Emily could only pat his back apologetically. But as much as they want to say that Morgan is her favourite, Spencer is everyone’s favourite.

He just shrugged, and Morgan kept talking, needing to add in what he’d seen - and profiled - about the two of them.

“Whatever. We’ve all seen how smitten Jack is with her, kid practically has hearts coming from his eyes. And I heard them talking about her having stayed over on the weekend. And we all see the way Hotch is with the two of them, it’s like the past decade of the job lifts off him.”

They all eventually came to the agreement that they believed that Hotch and their receptionist were together, and they needed to know more. The achilles heel of most profilers, the desire for gossip whenever they can get it.

Hearing footsteps approaching, they quickly nominated Spencer to ask Hotch, panicking the younger agent as he spluttered over his words.

As Hotch stepped through, with her following close behind, files in her hands as she waited for Hotch to take them. Waving to the rest of the team happily, very grateful the images weren’t on screen yet. Emily booted Spencer under the table and he jolted, getting Hotch’s attention.

“Hotch!” His voice cracked, how cute. “I uh- we, we wondered if you and uhm.. if you two--”

Christ, she wanted to take pity on the poor boy, looking up at Aaron. Thankfully he seemed amused rather than irritated that they’d worked it out. Looks like they got their answers on whether or not the relationship was allowed.

He nodded at her softly and she grinned, leaning up to peck his lips quickly, stuffing the files into his hands.

“Let me know if you take the case?”

“I’ll text you.”

Grinning, she winked at Spencer, which earned her a warning “sweetheart”, which only fed into her giddiness now that they didn’t have to hide it. Loving the surprised looks on their faces, even though Morgan was definitely acting as if he knew the whole time. Exactly as Aaron said he would, god she loves that he knows them so well.

“Stay safe you lot. Bring my boyfriend home safe or I’ll hunt you down!”

As she walked out of the briefing room, she smacked Aaron’s ass and scampered off giggling, being followed with his scolding voice.

“Dove.”

Eventually, he had to turn back around to his grinning teammates - bar a very embarrassed Spencer who now avoided his boss’ gaze - he sunk into his chair. Waiting for whichever one was going to say something first.

Emily, of course, was the one to speak up first, looking at him all innocently as if she didn’t know damn well what she was doing.

“Dove~?”

“Don’t push it.”

Want more?! Good!

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Red Lights - Lost the Breakup Part 1

Ex!Lando Norris x Reader, Oscar Piastri x reader

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

A/n: Hiiii guess who's back pookies, I totally not have an anatomy paper to write and procrastinated by writing this

Next Part

“Being in a relationship while being in F1 is exhausting.. That could just be me though. “

Lando  said the words so offhandedly that you’d almost missed them, but the meaning couldn't be interpreted any differently. You were exhausting. You could see his PR person gently hit his arm at the statement and he quickly changed the subject. 

The silence in your shared hotel room wrapped around you and before you knew it you had begun to pack your suitcase. Lando wouldn’t be due back for a few hours at least and that was enough time to pack up and get to the airport. 

Your phone buzzed as you were wheeling your suitcase to sit next to the door of the room. 

OP81:  I know you saw the interview. Are you ok? 

Y/n : No.

Y/n: Did you know that he felt that way? That I’m exhausting and he’s not in love? 

OP81: I was as blindsided as you. I thought you guys were great. He always talked about how he couldn't imagine life without you. 

OP81: Have you spoken to Lando? 

Y/n: No and I'm not planning to, I’m about to head to the airport. 

OP81: Need a ride? 

25 minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of Oscar’s hire car on your way to the airport. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, just peeked at you periodically as you stared at the passing cars on the highway. 

“If you’re planning on jumping out, just know I already put the child lock on… and besides a guy who thinks you’re exhausting isn't worth jumping onto the highway” He says, glancing over again. 

“Duly noted.” you say, not even glancing towards him. 

“What are you going to do when you get back to Monaco? It’ll only be two days and Lando will be back, do you have somewhere to stay?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice. You realise that you didn’t know he cared that much. 

“I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can stay in a hotel for a few days.” 

“You can stay at my place, if you want?’ Oscar suggests, “I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with” 

You nod slightly, “That would actually be really good, I don’t think I can face being in our flat right now.” 

Oscar smoothly pulls up at the departure gate. He pulls the suitcase from the back for you. He looks at you, his expression blank but his eyes showing a hint of concern. Oscar pulls a set of keys from his pocket. 

“Here, I’ll text you the address.” He presses the keys into your hand. “Just…”  His hand comes up to wipe across his face, “Take care, y/n” 

You nod and pull Oscar into a hug. “Thank you,osc”,  you begin to tear up, “for everything. I know he’s your friend.” 

“He may be my friend but you’re my friend too,” He says into your shoulder, “ You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Oscar leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek, and heads towards the car. You give him a tight smile and wave after him as he drives off. 

–

It was thankfully early when you arrived at Oscar’s Monaco flat. You really didn’t need any more attention on your relationship than you’d had in the past 4 hours. 

After the flood of twitter and instagram notifications regarding the comments Lando had made, it had been easier to deactivate your social media than have to look at the messages from Lando’s fans. Some were nice, sure, but the majority, or what felt like the majority, were people saying that they knew you were never good enough for him. That you’d been using him for attention or money. 

There were two messages from Lando. 

Lan: Oscar said he took you to the airport

Lan: Don’t you think you might be overreacting? 

Oscar’s flat was quiet, aside from the humm of Monaco nightlife. You never understood why New York was “the city that never sleeps” when Monaco was constantly alive from early morning cafes to midnight casino’s to the drunken groups stumbling back to hotels at 4am. 

You hadn’t left the flat for two days by the time Oscar got back on Monday morning. Curled up in bed, sporadically getting up for cups of tea before stumbling back to bed to continue the routine of crying and staring at the ceiling of the spare room. 

He knocked gently on the doorframe, leaning against it with an unreadable expression. 

“I won,” He stated. 

Your head snapped towards him at the sound of his voice, “Osc” You rasped,voice hoarse after days of crying. “What?”

“I won,” He repeated, “for you.” He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t intended to say the second part. 

“For me?” You questioned. 

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't the right time.” He turned and retreated into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You stared at the ceiling of the room. How could you have not noticed? Every interaction with Oscar flashed in your mind. First meeting him while out clubbing with Lando after hearing so much about Lando’s new teammate; To late night runs to get ice cream cause Lando didn’t want to ruin his diet, that became habit on a Thursday night as Oscar needed his ‘secret weapon for the weekend; to the words Oscar had just breathed into your room.

You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…

But what?

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: continuing to struggle with coming to terms, reader seeks solace in Anya, trying and failing to confess, until they finally couldn't avoid it any longer.

tw: reader is bad at feelings.

a/n: this has become a series...

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

In response to your newfound feelings, you decided to do what you do best. Ignore it. Ignore the fluttering of your heart when Daisuke looked towards you after a joke, like he wanted to make you laugh specifically. Or the quiet moments, sitting side by side at night, you didn’t miss the way he would stare at you instead of the fake sky, making your insomnia problem worse. Or how he had become more touchy, how had you not noticed it before? They way he’d brush the back of his hand against yours when walking side by side, or how he’d bump shoulders with you more often than not, or the brief hugs he’d give you if you looked particularly down. 

It was eating at you, but you’d be damned if you were gonna say anything. You can’t remember a time you felt this strongly about someone. Sure, you’ve had passing crushes and found people attractive, but those all passed. But this? You were stuck, hurtling through space, with someone you not only found attractive, but were also falling for. You felt like you were going to tear your hair out. This wasn’t good for your health. It felt like you were going crazy. Not to mention the constant urge to just get all your aggression out by squeezing the living daylights out of Daisuke. 

It seemed you weren’t hiding your deteriorating mental state well. Finishing your daily tasks for Anya, she seemed to have noticed the tired look in your eyes…or maybe the eye bags, those might have been a dead give-away. 

“Have you been sleeping alright?” Anya asked, eyes holding concern. 

“As good as it’ll get,” You shrugged, deflecting the question. 

“If there’s something on your mind you can always talk to me,” She remarked. “It may be my job, but I also care about you.” That made you pause, biting your lip and you mulled over your options. Either keep your feelings to yourself and go nuts or talk to the only other person you feel comfortable with…

Sitting down, you kept your gaze on your lap, fiddling with your fingers, “I’ve…uh. I’ve come to a sudden realization.” 

“And what might that be?” Anya asked softly, watching your anxious movements with a trained eye. Your fidgeting grew worse, now messing with the sleeves of your uniform. If you said it outloud that would make it real, and that was what was holding you back. All these new emotions scared you, and for all you knew Daisuke only thought of you as a friend. The uncertainties of the whole situation made you want to grasp onto any semblance of control you held, and that was holding onto your emotions, keeping them in check and acting like you didn’t want to kiss the living daylights out of one of your crewmates. 

“I think I’m going crazy.”

It's not what you wanted to say, but the truth felt too heavy on your tongue, unable to push the words past your lips. Avoiding her gaze, you looked at the board behind her, eyes landing on a drawing of Jimmy with the word yimpy. Glaring at the image, you wondered why traces of Daisuke seemed to follow you no matter where you went. 

“Hmm,” Anya hummed, tapping her pen against the desk. “Why?”

“I…I,” You tried so hard to say it, to get the damn fuzzy yet heavy feelings off your chest, but your mouth wouldn’t let you. Thankfully, Anya was patient, analyzing you to make sure this wasn’t too serious to your mental health. Squeezing your hands into tight fists, you pushed through, the words finally spilling past your lips, “I think I’m falling for Daisuke!” 

Your eyes widened at how loud you said it, cheeks warming and glancing behind you to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Anya’s demeanor softened, letting out a small sigh of relief. You really scared her for a second. But now that the dam had broken, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from gushing. 

“I-I’ve never felt this way before and it’s so scary. And it’s hard to avoid because he’s always following me around and making me laugh, and when I’m with him it doesn’t seem so bad, but then when I’m alone I overthink everything. It’s driving me crazy.”

Anya nodded, taking in your words and coming up with a thoughtful response, “New things are scary. But it seems like you both really like each other. I’d say the best way to go about this is to confront the problem, tell Daisuke how you feel. As scary as it may be, it's better than keeping it in. Of course if you two do start dating then you’d both have to fill out some paperwork-”

“I think we’re skipping a step,” You said, words muffled as you shoved your face in your hands. 

…

You knew Anya was right. You should just tell him, that’s the most logical conclusion, but if you struggled to tell her, how the hell were you supposed to tell the actual person? You glanced at your main problem, wearily eyeing him as Swansea was trying to guide him in fixing a pipe. You weren’t an idiot, you knew that he liked you, but the question was how much? Was it all platonic? Maybe a hint of romantic feelings? Was he already crushing on you? How the hell were you supposed to know? It angered you, you were out of your depth and it was scary. 

“I did it!” Daisuke exclaimed, smiling brightly towards Swansea than you.

“Good job,” Swansea muttered gruffly. “You didn’t break anything this time.” 

When his eyes landed on you, expectant look in his eyes, you found yourself folding, “You did great.” Curse your traitorous heart speeding up when his grin brightened. He was nearly jumping across the halls, vibrating where he stood.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid,” Swansea shook his head. “The question is can you do it again?” 

“I’m sure he can,” You remarked offhandedly. The old man glanced at you before shaking his head, muttering something about kids these days. 

“Let’s take a ten minute break,” Swansea grumbled. “Not sure how much longer I can deal with you two.” You watched him leave with a raised eyebrow, your lips slightly lifted in a small smirk. 

It was silent for a few moments before Daisuke spoke up, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, tilting your head. “Yeah, why?”

“You just…seem a bit off,” He muttered, scratching the back of his neck. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snarked, eyes falling into a glare. 

“N-nothing bad,” He defended, holding his hands up like a shield. “You just…you can talk to me y’know. We’re friends after all.”

Letting out a sigh you deflated, “Sorry, I know. It’s just…hard to explain.”

“Harder to explain than stealing the Captain's scanner for some sweetener packets?”

“Hmm,” You genuinely thought about it, amused. “No, I don’t think I can beat that.” The two of you chuckled softly before it was quiet again. With the way Daisuke worriedly looked at you, you felt a bit guilty. You had been snapping at him more than usual (easy to beat as you never really snapped at him), taking out your frustrating emotions on those around you. You had been unfair, and now seems like the perfect time to finally get the weight off your chest…and apologize properly.

“I, uh, have something to admit,” You confessed, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “Just…let’s not make it weird-”

“Alright,” Swansea unknowingly cut you off, coming back in. “No more time to dawdle, the ship won’t fix itself.” You huffed, glaring at the ground. It was just your luck that right as you were about to do the grown thing and talk about your emotions someone had to cut you off.

Pushing yourself off the crate you were sitting on, you waved at the two on your way out, “I’ll see ya around.” Not looking back, you missed the way Daisuke watched you in concern.

…

You paused mid-turn, freezing when you heard someone knock on your door. Daisuke’s muffled call of your name rang through your room. Grumbling to yourself, you got up. It’s not like you were getting any sleep anyhow. Pulling down the handle, the door slid open to reveal Daisuke, his hair was ruffled and he was wearing his pajamas. A frown tugged at his lips, eyes watching your sluggish form. “Come in,” You murmured, stepping away from the door and sitting on your bed. Closing the door behind him, he sat next to you. No words needed to be shared, you knew exactly why he was here. Once again, you found the silence to be terribly loud, racking your brain on where to start. 

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit,” You apologized, gaze focused in front of you.

“What are you talking about?” Daisuke asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y’know,” You grumbled, picking at the blanket beneath you. “I keep snapping at you out of nowhere. It’s not right, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh,” He nodded in realization.

“Yeah,” You sighed.

“Something been irritating you?” He asked leaning down to try and meet your gaze. 

“That's…I…” Once again, you felt your tongue grow heavy at the thought of admitting your feelings. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable was terrifying. It was like carving your heart out and serving it on a platter, hoping that he’d treat it with care. The question was, were you willing to put the knife to your chest and cut? 

Meeting his eyes, held with concern and something you couldn’t put your finger on, you could feel the knife twist.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Daisuke’s eyes widened with wonder, looking more awake than ever before, tanned cheeks turning red. He felt like he was dreaming, but at the same time it felt off. You were confessing to him, something he had hoped for…but you also seemed…sad. Like it was taking a toll on you, and if that was the reason why you were more easily irritated…does that mean you don’t like it? Was there a way to fall for someone and hate them for it? 

“And that’s a bad thing?” He managed to ask, voice wobbling in fear. 

“No,” You whispered, tilting your head down and facing your lap. “It’s just scary. I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“That’s okay,” Daisuke whispered back, inching his hand closer to your own. “I’m new to this too. We can figure it out. Together.” Biting your lip, you eyed his hand that stopped just before touching you. In a short burst of confidence you linked your pinkies, bathing in the warm feeling that expanded through your entire being instead of running from it. 

“Do you think you can stay?” You asked, your skin bristling at the vulnerability in your tone. 

You were silly to think that Daisuke would treat your heart carelessly. No, he was going to treat it tenderly, caring for it as if it were his own. In return, he carved his own heart out, giving you an equal offering. 

“Of course,” Daisuke nodded, his usual boyish smile more tender and warm. 

Bonus:

Both you and Daisuke had been late to breakfast, and Anya had a small hunch as to why. So she offered to get you both, ignoring the way Jimmy grumbled about you both being spoiled brats. Knocking on your door, she heard shuffling on the other side, hushed whispers, and finally footsteps walking towards the door. Cracking the door open, you peaked your head out, sleepy eyes staring up at the nurse.

“Good morning,” You muttered, voice still laced with sleep. 

“Good morning,” She greeted back with an amused smile. “You and Daisuke slept in.”

That seemed to make you wide awake, muttering curse words before rushing back into your room, a muffled sorry yelled through the door. Walking back to the main hull, Anya shook her head in amusement. It seems you finally followed her advice.

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

Sooo happy I found your blog! I’ve been absolutely loving your Hank McCoy stuff (and honestly allll of your writings)

I was wondering if you might have time to write something angsty- confessing love kind of thing for the reader and Nightcrawler? I’ve always been a fan of his. He always seems to me that he’d be touch starved, despite being so charming.

FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING FOREVER ON THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Flufftober” series. 3 🎃 Kurt X GN Reader ‘Fluff’ Word Count: 1.2k

You stared at your ceiling. You couldn’t sleep, again. Try as you might, your brain wouldn’t let you get a wink tonight for some reason. 

You roll over to your side with a huff, looking at your bedside clock. It was two in the morning.

You smash your head against your pillow with an exasperated groan. You’d been like this for the past few weeks, on and off thankfully- but it was still annoying. 

You’d been under so much stress lately. Not just as an X-man, but a certain member of your team was driving you crazy. 

It was Kurt, obviously. 

The blue devil couldn’t stay out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to shoo him away…so you could at least get some shut-eye.  

It was just so hard. He was so kind, nurturing, honest, passionate, and a goof- oh, you’re getting carried away when you should be sleeping…once again. 

You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself like this, giving yourself false hope. He was friendly to everyone, that was just Kurt. And you were no exception, just another X-Men…just another friend.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn. Fresh air and a good ol’ walk by the tree line should do you some good. 

You quietly tip-toe down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone at this hour. However, it was unlikely for people with keen senses like Logan. But still, you tried. 

After throwing on a pair of shoes and a jacket, you slipped outside through the back door. 

You made your way down the grassy hills, leaves crunching underneath your feet as you made your way toward the forest. It was dark, with nothing but the stars and moonlight accompanying you tonight. 

A brisk autumn breeze rushes past you, dancing through the tree’s amber leaves. It was so calming, just watching nature move. 

You took a deep breath, the sweet smell of fall surrounding you. Just what you needed.

“Is everything okay Mein Freund?” A startling puff of air sounded behind you. 

You jump, yelping while grabbing your chest with a hand. “Kurt!” You whisper-tell, coughing from the smoke trails he left behind from his ‘bamphing’. 

“I’m sorry to startle you,” He said bashfully, flashing you his pointed canines in a toothy grin. “I noticed you sneak out alone- late in the night and I got worried!” He nervously chuckled, scratching at his neck.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile on your face. “Oh Kurt, always worrying about others…” 

“I just wanted some…air is all.” You add with a shrug, huffing out a laugh. 

“Ah, I see…” He nods his head before looking up. “Well, it is a beautiful night out.” You hum with him in agreement. 

“Would you like to join me?” You ask reluctantly. His yellow eyes shifted back to you, a gentle smile still lingering in his expression. “Of course.” 

With that, you take his hand and pull him down to lie in the grass with you. You both land on leaves and soft grass, looking up at the stars littering the night sky.

While his gaze was directed upwards, his mind was freaking out over the fact you were touching his hand. 

He’s never touched- held hands before. This was all so new to him. Was he freaking out right now? He was definitely freaking out. He was feeling too hot. No, it was too cold outside to feel that warm. There had to be something wrong with him. Was there something wrong with him? Oh God, he’s going to be sick. 

“Kurt?” Your voice pulled Kurt out of his daze. 

“Y-Yes?” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Nothing, just thought I’d lost you there.” You chuckle, watching Kurt’s eyes dart between you and your hand. 

You follow his line of sight before realizing your hand was still wrapped around his. “Oh! Sorry about that, forgot I was still doing that…” You release his hand, a little too quickly for Kurt’s liking.

His eyes furrowed in a frown. Did you not like holding his hand? It was a reaction he was used to, people not wanting to be around him because of his appearance. He was a mutant after all, and a very blue one at that. 

“It’s fine…did that make you…uncomfortable?” He asked you softly, voice barely above a whisper. 

You were taken aback. Had you hurt his feelings? This was all so confusing…

“No, I just..thought you didn’t want to hold mine…” You say, your gaze fixed on the stars, not having enough strength to look at Kurt. 

“It’s quite alright, I do not mind!” He smiles at you, taking a hold of your hand. “W-well as long as you’re comfortable with it.” You say as nonchalantly as possible. There was nothing nonchalant about this situation right now, you were making physical contact with the man you’ve been pining for the past few years! You were freaking out.

“I actually…really like you if I’m being honest.” He randomly blurts out, his statement effectively getting you to shoot up and look at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh, you don’t…feel the same, do you?” He states, rather than trying to find confirmation. He looks down at his hand still holding yours, disappointment written all across his features. 

Before you can explain yourself, he’s gone in a puff of blue-purple tendrils. You cough, waving your hand to clear the smoke from his vanishing act. Nice, real smooth. You scared him off. 

You get up, running to the mansion with nothing to lose…Well, other than sleep since it was late. But you had to find Kurt before he got the wrong idea. 

You spot him in a tree, sitting on a thick branch with his tail leisurely hanging off the side. Was he really just gonna sit there like you couldn’t see him? 

“Kurt!” You whisper-yelled, standing at the trunk of the tree. 

“Agh, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night! Let me wallow in self-pity alone…please…” He trailed off with a groan, leaning his head back to hit it against the tree. “Alright I’m coming up there-“ 

“WAIT!” You stop your advances up the tree, raising a brow questionably at him. “I-I’ll just come to you…” He mumbles. 

In a flurry of bamphs, he lands in front of you, his head hanging in humiliation. You let out a sigh before pulling him into an embrace. “What’s all this for?” He nervously chuckles, his arms moving stiffly to pat your back. 

First the hand holding, now hugs. Kurt feared he might explode from all the warmth and affection from you. 

“I like you Kurt.” You murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. 

When you’re met with no response, you open an eye to peek at his reaction, just to find a purple flush blooming on his blue complexion. And when you advert your gaze downwards, you notice his forked tail swaying. That was adorable…

“This might be the best day of my life.”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Geto/gojo/reader “I can’t believe there’s only one bed” and HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY

THANK YOOUUU!! So, this one really sang to me, I went ahead and combined the two, mostly because they are very similar. Thank you both for the prompt!!

Now Presenting...

Starring: A flirty Satoru Gojo, and a tired Suguru Geto

Your body protested every step you took as you walked into the hotel, screaming at you to lay down and accept the sweet embrace of death. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but you could definitely have gone for a light coma in that moment. A yawn you had been suppressing came forward, and you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Awe, well aren’t you cute when you’re sleepy.” Gojo teased with a smile, earning him a glare from you. 

“Shut up Satoru.” This entire trip he kept making note of how cute you were, and how you needed to be protected, and at this point, he was on the brink of losing vocal cord privileges.

“Flirt later you two, let’s just get checked in.” Suguru muttered as he ushered the two of you to the front desk. He tried to summon a friendly smile for the clerk, but it didn’t touch his tired eyes. “Hi! Uh, we should have two reservations under Masamichi Yaga.” He said, really hoping they didn’t ask for an id. He told his teacher that he should probably put the rooms under one of the three people going on the mission, but the man was more muscle than brain.

The young worker started typing on the computer, before confusion fell over her features. “Um, I found the reservations, but it says it’s only for one room?” She asked. You were a bit taken back by that, and you could tell from the looks on their faces the boys were too. You thought for sure you’d at least get your own room. But, then again, if getting a room with 3 beds was cheaper than getting 2 separate rooms, it did make sense for Yaga to take that route, the penny pinching bastard. 

“Uh, yea that should be fine, that’s us.” Suguru shrugged, too tired to really argue. Much to your relief (and concern) the woman nodded and happily gave over the room key, not bothering to ask for an ID. What a stand up place. The three of you dragged your tired worn bodies over to the elevator. Well, two of you did. Satoru felt fine, because of course he did. And because he had no problem filling the elevator with whatever came to his head. You shared a look with Suguru.

How do we shut him up? Your eyes asked.

Pillow over his face as he sleeps Sugurus eyes offered.

No, I want him to shut up now. 

Oh, that’s not gonna happen. For now, we just have to endure him.

You sighed, knowing he was right and hating that fact at the same time. Thankfully, the elevator door opened, and the room wasn’t far from it. Geto unlocked the door, and you and Gojo practically fell over him to get into it. You quickly went to grab your toothbrush, and Gojo went to fiddle with the tv. It was Suguru who noticed it first.

“Uh, guys? I don’t see another bed.” He said. You and Gojo stopped cold in your tracks, heads whipping to the center of the room and- yep. That was one bed, and only one bed. Not even so much as a pull out couch in sight. 

“OH ho ho!!” Satoru laughed, launching himself onto the bed and folding himself into what you think was meant to be a sexy pose. “I’ve read fan fiction before, I know what happens here!” He cackled, “Be gentle with me, I’m a virgin” He swooned, acting like a helpless flower. 

“I call sleeping in the bathtub.” Suguru said, checking out of this battle before it became a war.

“No, Don’t!” Gojo whined, reaching out to him, “The bathtub is cold and hard, I'm warm and soft. Unless you want me to be hard.” He winked. 

“I can’t believe there’s only one fucking bed, who sets this shit up?!” You snapped, aggressively waving your hands at the bed.

“God.” Gojo responded.

“Bad fan fiction writers.” Geto retorted, apparently salty about his characterization in my past fics. 

“Satoru get out of the bed.” You demanded, shaking your head. You did not just get out of a fight with ten, count em, ten first grade curses to sleep on the floor.

“How about you get in the bed?” He purred.

“I will, as soon as you get out of it.” you scoffed, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Why not get in it with me?” He grinned at you, opening his arms wide as an invitation. 

“I’d rather sleep in the bathtub.” You replied.

“Not an option, I already called it!” Suguru reminded you.

“Why don’t you sleep with him?” You accused more than asked, “He’s your man!”

“He is most definitely not my man!” Geto rebuffed the statement, shaking his head.

“He’s actually my man, we just haven’t taken our relationship to the next level yet.” Satoru purred with a cheeky wink to Geto to really seal the deal. Geto rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” He said, going to grab a pillow from the bed, only for Satoru to grab his arm.

“Come on guys, don’t be silly! This bed is big enough for all of us!” He argued, “We all trust each other, right?!” Gojo paused long enough to look at both you and Geto, but not long enough for an answer. He already knew it. “We know no ones going to try any funny business, we trust each other with our lives there's no reason for any of us to be uncomfortable tonight!” you and Suguru shared more glances. Gojo may be annoying, but when he was right he was right. The only thing really keeping the three of you from sharing was standard social conventions. 

“Fine, but if any of you touch me I’m throwing you off the balcony.” You warned. Geto sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the bed.

“I just don’t get why we weren’t warned about this.”

“I mean, it kind of explains the weird look she gave us.” You noted, sitting on the other side of Gojo.

“Yay, sleepover!” Gojo cheered, grabbing onto Suguru because he was the one that didn’t threaten him, “Fair warning, I’m a cuddler.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“I knew I should have just slept in the tub.” Geto sighed.

🛏️🛏️🛏️

In the morning, you were a tangled mess of limbs and drool with your two best friends. Any warning against cuddling being tossed to the wind in exchange for the comfort human warmth brings. You hated to admit it, but it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. Gojo woke up not long after you, smiling softly, slowly coming back to life.

“Good morning,” He said. You shook your head and covered his face with a pillow.

“It was before you started talking.” You muttered.“It’s 6 am, go back to bed.” Suguru begged, not happy to have been woken up.

[ryebread0605]

Wait, are there perverts who request this cute child with ortho? ah @ryebread0605 can you do Lilia x reader smut on honeymoon? I haven't had mine yet with my beautiful husband with pink locks and I wanted to have that with him!

Unfortunately there are some people who write gross stuff about Ortho and I despise it :((

As for your ask, I’d love to! I absolutely love teasing Lilia so I hope you don’t mind that I added it! 

Excitement flowed through your veins as you and your newly pronounced husband arrived at the small villa you rented for the week. Having just had the wedding only a few days ago, the essence of the party still hung heavy in your mind. Seeing him in that tuxedo, your friends and families around you, hell he even managed to get Silver to stay awake the whole time! It was a dream come true.

As you sat on the plush blue couch, your now husband sat beside you and ran his thumb across your hand, 

“My dear, I have something I’d like to ask you about” your attention was on him with a soft tilt of your head. Urging him to continue, he complied and moved closer and tilted your chin up softly making you blush softly.

“I’ve been thinking for a while and, with Silver now grown up,” he smirked softly as he continued, “I would like to have another child. One with you.” Your eyes widened but you couldn’t deny the idea sounded quite nice. With a smile and nod, you were quickly pinned to the couch as the fae slid your top up and off. His lips brushed against your still clothed breasts before the bra covering them was torn off. The little tease, however, only ran his fingers along the bare skin, watching you squirm a bit under him.

“What’s wrong my little bat? Use your words~” you huffed, muttering under your breath which earned you a bite on your neck. He smirked before quickly pulling your bottoms off as well, gaze looking you over as he unbuttoned his shirt. No matter how many times he saw your body, he never got enough of it. 

In what felt like only a few short moments, he had you on your hands and knees as he positioned himself behind you, his hard on prodding at your sopping cunt as he teased the tip along your slit. A whine rolled past your lips, desperation leading you to rub your ass against him, making him let out a low growl sound.

“My dear, do I need to show you how to be patient?” You immediately ceased your movements at that, knowing full well that would mean a night of edging with no relief. Thankfully, he soon bent to your needs and pushed the tip of his cock into your aching cunt. He didn’t wait long before shoving the rest in, starting off at a medium pace while groaning in pleasure. Your moans mixed with his, filling the air with the wonderful sounds of love as his hips picked up speed. 

His stamina seemed to never end as hour after hour passed, him moving you from position to position, filling you up until you felt like you were going to burst, as he finally stilled for the final time. Panting and sweaty, the two of you looked to each other with pure love in both your eyes. You knew in that moment that you made the right decision in marrying this fae.

“Sevens… how did I end up with someone as perfect as you my little bat?”

[preservationofnormalcy]

[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]

[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.

A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.

Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.

All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory. 

For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared. 

The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.

I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]

C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25

[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]

M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here? 

C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21

[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]

M] Here? Now? 

C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1

[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers. 

After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker. 

I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]

C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11

[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.  

‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ‘Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]

C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12

M] What is all this? Who ARE you?

C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25

M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?

C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12

M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –

C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20

[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]

M] What is this? Project Dammerung? 

C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25

M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?

[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]

M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…

[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall. 

A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]

M] Uhh…sir? Cecil? 

[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]

C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12

[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]

M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise. 

[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]

M] Thank you.

[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time. 

I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility. 

The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed. 

Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars. 

And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.

As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years.  When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]

H] I know you’re here. 

[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]

H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.

[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]

H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…

[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]

H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them. 

[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]

H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings. 

[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]

H] Cecil?

[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]

C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1

H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–

[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]

H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing? 

[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]

C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21

H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home. 

[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]

H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?

C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14

[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway. 

The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]

[yikesmary]

hi! i saw u were asking for some svt oneshots ideas so ... strangers to dating (?) w mingyu where u walk ur golden retriever and while in the park mingyu bumps into ur puppy and asks if they can play together for a while <3

PUPPY PARENTS — kim mingyu x reader

summary: where your golden retriever has the tendency to bring you things she has an interest in— sticks, frisbees that obviously don’t belong to you, and even the occasional bird. but this time, your dog brings… a man? and not just any man, only the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. maybe your dog is onto something…

notes: WOO first request! i don’t have a dog but this request is cute. also i have no knowledge on how having a dog at the park works so i’m just guessing. it’s a non-idol!au but it doesn’t really matter since it’s not really mentioned. i kinda got carried away and the plot ended up a bit different than what the request was so i’m sorry anon 🧍‍♀️

“Now, I know I’ve let you bring in whatever interesting thing you see. But this time it should stop. I mean, come on, the old lady’s chihuahua? You weren’t the one getting hit by her purse,” you told your golden retriever Winnie, who looked as if she wasn’t understanding a thing you were saying.

Which made sense, considering she was a dog and you were, you know, not a dog.

You sighed, and kneeled down to the level of Winnie and decided to give her a tiny head rub before standing up and proceeding your walk to the park.

Thankfully, the park wasn’t busy. The last thing you wanted Winnie to do was pick up another kid again by their collar and proceed to kidnap them (the first and last time it happened, the mom was understanding but also really concerned).

Once you entered the park, you looked for a bench to sit on with Winnie not too far away, her tail wagging as she walked. When you finally chose a bench and sat down, Winnie looked at you as if she was expecting you to let her roam free.

“You can’t go too far away and play nice with the other dogs,” you reminded her, and she barked in response. It was times like these where you thought she understood you. But no matter how much you reassured her that you knew how to keep secrets, the only thing she did was stare at you blankly.

You gave her one last ruffle on her head before she took off running, watching her as she zoomed past the many people in excitement.

After making sure that she didn’t immediately run away from the park, you went on your phone to watch TikTok and respond to the texts you got that you told yourself you were going to respond and never ended up doing.

However, this didn’t last long because a confused, “Miss, is this your dog?” which made you look at the person that belonged to the voice.

You froze at the sight of the beautiful man. And it wasn’t just a quick stop; you physically froze at the sight of him. But you stopped once you realized that your dog was forcibly keeping him there in front of you by biting his pant leg and not letting go.

“Winnie! I told you that you can’t kidnap people,” you whisper yelled at your dog, but it was futile, as your dog just kept on wagging her tail, no doubt drooling on the handsome stranger’s pants.

You took ahold of the dog and pried her mouth open in order to release the pant leg. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve known she would do something like this,” you apologized, putting Winnie’s leash back on.

The man had smiled at you, not bothered at all at the fact his pants were now covered in dog spit. “No worries, she was nothing but sweet when she approached me. We even did a game of catch before she decided to kidnap me,” he said, grabbing a tennis ball from his pocket and showing it to you.

“You just happen to have a tennis ball in your pocket?” You asked, raising your eyebrow.

The beautiful mystery man only grinned at you, “I like visiting the park because I like asking dog owners if I can play with their dogs,”

“That’s… adorable,” you blurted out, since the thought of the man just having the ball for the sole purpose of having something to play with dogs was adorable.

“Thanks, but Winnie here is adorable, too. I’m guessing she’s named after Winnie the Pooh?”

“Unintentionally named Winnie. My niece had a Winnie the Pooh phase when she was younger and constantly kept calling her Winnie and it was the only name she ever answered to after that,” you explained.

“So if I know the dog’s name, can I know yours?” he asked.

You told him your name feeling a little embarrassed, since you went on to call him adorable and explained your dog’s name origin without either of you knowing each other’s names. If he didn’t stop you, you would’ve probably ended up over sharing and telling him all your life problems.

“Pretty name for someone who’s just as pretty,” he complimented, which made you smile.

“Does that line work?” You questioned.

“Depends. Did it work on you?”

“How about I know your name first before I say anything?” you asked.

“Oh, right! I can’t believe I asked you for your name before even saying mine. My name’s Mingyu,” he said, finally putting a name to his face.

“Well, Mingyu, the line worked. Just a tiny bit,” you replied, putting your pointer finger and thumb close together in a pinch.

“That’s disappointing. I thought it would’ve been the perfect line to lead to asking you out for coffee. My treat,” Mingyu said.

“Well. the coffee does sound good. And you did get ambushed by my dog, so I’d feel bad rejecting you…” you jokingly trailed off.

“And I might be injured! You might have to stay with me until I feel all better,” Mingyu played along, causing you to laugh.

“You’re such a dork,”

“A dork who just so happens to know of a cafe that allows dogs and even has their very own menu of drinks and food curated just for dogs,”

Winnie interrupted your banter at that moment in order to nudge you, giving her own seal of approval at the mention of the cafe. “I guess Winnie chose for the both of us,” you said, gesturing to your dog’s sudden movement.

“Just as a warning, don’t taste the dog’s food. I tried it and I should’ve never done so in the first place,” Mingyu said, the both of you walking with Winnie beside you, trotting along.

“What made you even eat the dog treats anyways?”

“They looked like human food! So, as a result my friend, Jeonghan, dared me to try one…”

[uhhsoph]

Class of ‘21

—————————————

-pairing: softdom!chris & sub!reader

-warnings: unprotected p in v (don’t do that guys) kissing, making out, fingering, public sex, praising, use of y/n (very brief)

-a/n- this is probably so bad but I rushed heavy I’m insanely tired goodnight lovies 🤍

Of all of the places I thought I’d be tonight, I didn’t think I’d be here. I’ve shitted on everything and anything that had to do with my high school years. Yet, here I was standing in the middle of the same nasty, mold infested, gymnasium I was 3 some years ago.

I decided to come to my reunion because I had nothing else to do. Was it the best thing I could’ve done with my time? Maybe not, but I guess it was cool to see how everyone changed and grew into themselves. Sure, I missed high school sometimes but high school was shit mostly. I mostly kept to myself and a few friends I’d kept from middle school. I was focused on my self and my future, and I’m proud of who I’ve become. Back then, I wish I could tell myself it’d be worth it, because it was.

I walked around to see if any of my old friends have decided to show up too. I kept walking until I felt a light, gentle, tap on my shoulder. I turn around and get met with the eyes of my friend, Nessa.

“Where have you been all night? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I’ve just been here, you must’ve not looked hard enough.” I speak with a smile. The air in the gym getting more stuffy and unbearable by the second, the stuffiness due to it being stuffed to the brim with most of the class of 2021.

“I swear I’ve swept the place looking for you. But at least I found you, because guess who’s here.” She smirks slightly, a mock pang of flirt laced in her voice. Guessing was absolutely never my thing.

“I don’t know, enlighten me.” I chuckle.

“Come on, not even a small guess?” She fake pouts. I take a few seconds to rake my brain of who, or maybe what, she could possibly be so excited about.

“Ness, I don’t know. Kaylee from bio?” I furrow my eyebrows as I made a guess. A small one, but still a guess.

“You’re no fun! Christopher Sturniolos here.” She says with excitement, somewhat evident in her voice. Chris was my long time crush all throughout high school, no shot he even knew who I was. We’ve interacted maybe once, we had classes together but what’s that in a building full of girls? Chris was popular, everyone liked him. I wasn’t special for feeling the same way, I knew that.

“Respectfully Ness, what am I supposed to do with that? Everyone’s probably swarming over him asking about his life after high school.” I laugh.

“Respectfully, you’re so hot now. I bet if you tried talking to him, you’d be his first priority.” She grins at me, fanning herself dramatically.

“You’re on some crazy shit.” I retort with a small chuckle before continuing. “I’m going to grab a drink. You want one?” I ask.

“I’m okay, but hey. While you’re gone, try and get a peak at Chris. See if he’s still as amazing as you thought he was.” I roll my eyes playfully as I start walking to the drinks table.

I push past the crowds of people catching up, crying, hell, going through the 5 stages of grief over reuniting with their old friends. I see the table straight through a few people, I walk behind them swiftly, seeing Chris with a group. I take a quick glance at him, which he returns, but nonetheless I keep walking to the table. He’s definitely still what he used to be, hot as shit.

I approach the table, somewhat distracted by everything that’s happening around me. Well, except one thing. Before I can react, I see this girl attempting to launch a solo cup of fruit punch at this guy. The guy obviously notices before me as he moves out of the way, the fruit punch obliviously landing on me, seeping deeper into the soft fabric faster by the second. I look down at my light colored dress, now stained red wondering how the fuck I’m going to get this out.

I glance around, thankfully not many people were paying attention to the whole scene. The girl angrily muttering apologies as she grabs the guy by his wrist, dragging him out of the gym and outside, probably to scream more curses at him. I cuss silently to myself as I make my way to the bathroom to try and clean this up. I feel someone lightly grab my shoulder. I turn around to meet the eyes of, none the other, Chris. My face softens ever so slightly as I meet his captivating eyes, forgetting the reason why I was mad for a second.

“Hey, I saw what happened are you… good?” He asks. I let out a breathy chuckle as I peer down at my dress again.

“I mean… not really. I don’t know how I’m gonna get this stain out.” I say as casually as I can. I can’t take another embarrassment tonight.

“Here, I can help you? I don’t know much I can but I’ll try.” He laughs. I chuckle and nod as I let him led me to an empty classroom, which happened to be the math class, the class I shared with him in senior year, something I doubt he’d remember. He pats the table in front of the sink for me to sit on and looks under the cabinet for some paper towels. He rummages under carelessly until he finds some. He dampens the paper towel as he gently dabs it onto my dress, applying slight pressure to soak up the red liquid on the soft fabric.

“This place looks the same, doesn’t it?” He questions, keeping his focus on trying to get the stain out.

“Hm?” I question, confused, he can’t be talking about what I think he’s talking about.

“This is one of the classes I had with you, right?” He pauses for a second and looks up at my face, giving me his full and complete attention. My face slowly breaks into a grin.

“Yeah, it is. Honestly, I’m surprised you even know who I am.” I admit honestly with a slight laugh.

“How couldn’t I?.” He chuckles as he continues back to wiping gently at my dress. I shake my head and chuckle slightly.

“What do you mean?.” I ask, a smile on my face as I furrow my eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know, let’s just forget about it.” He shook it off, basically mentally face palming himself as if he said something wrong. We sit in somewhat comfortable silence as I keep looking at Chris, he seems to be contemplating something in his head before he talks again.

“Y/n?” He questions, stilling his movements and looking up at me

“Hm?” I look at him too.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty. Even since, like, freshman year. And you still are, which is why I’m kinda terrified to say the wrong things. I always have it’s just, now we aren’t even in Highschool and I know I shouldn’t even be telling you, kinda stupid right?” He confesses, looking basically anywhere but my eyes.

I sit dumbfounded. After a few seconds, I smile. He was so genuine and I don’t think I’ve seen him, let alone anyone that, vulnerable with me for awhile. “I’ve always liked you too, I just… never thought you’d notice me”I whisper back, trying to open up about it to him.

“I noticed. I definitely noticed.” He whispers as he finally meets my eyes. I look back, not being able to look away.

He stands all the way up, towering over me sitting on the table, moving his face closer to mine. He stays there, probably waiting for me to make a move to completely connect our lips. I look into his blue eyes, before grabbing his jaw and connecting my lips with his, something I’ve wanted since freshman year. He immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around my body. I move my arms to rest behind his neck, deepening the kiss. He gently bites my bottom lip to gain entry, which I allow embarrassingly quick. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth, pulling away for a quick second.

“Jump.” He says, gripping my ass, keeping his face close to mine. I do as he says and allow myself to wrap my legs around his waist.

He places his hands under my thighs and then he throws his lips back onto mine. He spins me around and pins me to the counter, the kiss growing more desperate every second. He sets me down on the counter, leaning me up against the back wall. His hands roaming my body as I do the same. Touching every inch I possibly could, as if he’d vanish any second. I capture all his breaths and pants into my mouth as he does the same with mine. He starts to move his hands towards the top of my thighs, rubbing circles with his thumb on the bare skin. I grab his collar and pull him impossibly close, his tongue growing faster against mine. I reach my hand down to his belt and run my hands over it. He quickly pulls away and takes his belt off.

“You wanna do this?” He asks, looking at me breathlessly.

“Fuck Chris, yeah.” I pant. To that, he groans and hooks his hands under my thighs, pulling my body into his. His bulge pressing on me was enough for me to snap into a billion pieces. He looks down at silently curses when he realizes I’m not wearing underwear.

“Such a good fucking girl..” He leans down and collects the wetness that’s accumulated around my thighs.

“Shit Chris.” I throw my head back as his hand reaches my clit, rubbing firm circles on the small bundle of nerves. I moan out as his circles get faster.

“Shhh, angel, you don’t want the whole school to hear how good I’m making you feel do you?” He smirks lightly as he runs his thumb along my bottom lip, pulling it down to push his thumb in my mouth. I close my lips around it as my eyes roll back into my head. He moves his fingers lower and pushes them inside of my pussy. The familiar feeling in my stomach threatening to snap every second he continues.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Chris praises as his eyes move from my face to my pussy rapidly. I whine as my back arches into him.

“I-I’m gonna cum.. fuck chris! Oh my god” I moan as my fingers lace behind his neck, tangling themselves in his hair.

“Come on baby, cum on my fingers.” Chris replies as he’s focusing on my face, licking his lips. I try my best to focus on his face as I feel my first orgasm of the night crash over me, almost to fully convince my mind he’s still here, or here in the first place.

“Perfect, fuck..” He smirks before shoving his fingers in his mouth, sucking the juices off slowly. Which was almost enough to make me cum again right there.

“I need you.” I say out in desperation.

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows as he starts to unbuckle his pants. I nod embarrassingly fast. He grips my ass and picks me up again, spinning me around and pinning me on the table that was once behind him. He then maneuvers his cock out of his boxers, pre cum leaking over the tip, which is bright pink and begging for attention. My mouth waters at the sight of him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this.” He whispers, his voice gravelly as he moves his dick up and down my folds.

“No teasing.. fuck.” I throw my head back in anticipation, excitement bubbling in my stomach.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He challenges, breathlessly, almost trying to delay himself so this moment lasts longer.

“S’bad.. so so bad please.” I practically beg. He starts to slowly inch himself inside of me, groaning the deeper he gets.

“Mm, you’re so tight.” He practically whines as he throws his head back, starting to slowly thrust himself.

“Faster chris.” I moan, repeating his name over and over again. His thrusts getting faster, the moans and pants between us both is all we can comprehend.

“Fuck.. you’re so so good for me, angel.” He leans down starts kissing my jaw slowly. I place one of my hands on the back of his neck, and the other one wrapped around his back. He starts running his hands up and down my body. I arch off the table, whining as my second orgasm rapidly approaches.

“I-Im so close.. oh oh my god!” I moan out.

“Shit, me too.” He replies, his thrusts getting sloppier as I start clenching around him, cumming on his dick.

“I’m gonna cum… where do you want it?” He asks quickly.

“Anywhere”

He quickly pulls out as cum paints my stomach where my dress hitched up, as he curses under his breath. He leans down and captures my lips in his again. We sit there, our lips enveloping each others… that’s until we hear a swift knock on the door.

“Hey, what are you guys doing in there?”

~

[gingerteafairy]

milk me. (kai anderson x f!reader)

Kai gave you a smirk before turning back to his drums and bandmates. But that smirk lingered in your mind, and you knew—he was paying attention to you, and that was never a good sign.

tags: DUB-CON, angst, musician!reader, drummer!kai, anxiety, cursing, oral (m!receiving), slut shaming, health problems, diet restrictions, cum eating, dom!Kai, sub!reader, obsession, dark themes, porn w waaay too much plot.

disclaimer: the coven girls are your band mates, so it's kinda crossover.

Words: 5.7k

The band had become famous, and you still followed them on Instagram, secretly feeling jealous of how successful they had been without you over the past three years. You swore you’d never come back again—not even to see a concert. But one night, your friend told you they were doing a free live show in your city, and you should go see your old mates. You still kept in touch with the bassist—he was one of your best friends. You missed her, and that was enough to get you out of bed and head to the venue. It was a cozy café, one where you and the band used to grab drinks after rehearsals. You arrived way too early. Great.

"Hey, I didn’t expect you to be here!" A familiar voice interrupted your melancholic thoughts. Your friend Zoe, the bassist, exclaimed happily. She stepped back from the keyboard and walked over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "I missed you."

"Yeah, it's been a while," you replied, hugging her back. "You’re still here?" You knew the answer. She never left. In fact, she became a professional and was recognized for her talent. The posts you scrolled through for hours on Instagram confirmed it.

"Of course. We got new members, new staff. It’s nothing like the mess we had in school. Madison still sings like her life depends on it," she laughed, pulling back from the embrace.

You looked around. Things had really changed. It was better, cleaner, and more organized. For a moment, you wondered if the problem was you. 

A blue-haired guy passed by, and Zoe waved at him. He nodded and went to the drums. You hadn’t noticed him before when you were stalking the band’s Instagram, but now… he was impossible to ignore. There was something dark, mysterious, and almost dangerous about him that drew you in. Something carnal. He met your gaze, and you swallowed hard, feeling your heart skip a beat. You weren’t even paying attention to what Zoe was saying anymore. The eye contact felt like a curse, his stare taking over your mind. A quiet "fuck" slipped from your lips. Thankfully, Zoe thought you were responding to her compliment about how hard one of their songs was. You knew he was trouble. A delicious kind of haunted trouble.

"Hey, you should take a better seat. Let me show you," Zoe’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, breaking the intense eye contact between you and the blue-haired guy.

"No, I’ve already—"

"Oh, shut up. Let’s go," she interrupted, pulling you by the hand.

Zoe spoke to a security guard, who then escorted you to seats right in front of the stage. It wasn’t your favorite spot, but you gave in. Zoe wanted to be kind, and this was her way of showing affection. You sat down, irritated by the excited chatter around you as people discussed the band. That guy was still on your mind, and you caught yourself glancing at him while he spoke to the other members and staff.

A few minutes later, the concert began. You could tell they were so much better than before. The sound sent chills down your spine. You smiled throughout the entire concert, enjoying the music and every detail of it. Madison saw you in the crowd and made the band cheer for you, explaining how you were the amazing guitar player who had found the band. It was so embarrassing, yet so beautiful. You missed it. And that was it—you decided you were coming back to the band, even if you had to fight the new guitarist for your spot.

"Hey!" You greeted shyly, your steps unsure as you walked toward the backstage area.

“You fucking little bitch” Madison ran to you with her finger pointed. You step back in fear, she's terrifying when she’s mad. She stops in front of you and her lips form a bright smile, surprising you with a big bear hug “I missed you so fucking much, you cunt” 

“Me too, Maddie” you replied, feeling your shirt wet by her tears She stepped back to look at your face, her pretty heavy makeup was all ruined. Even crying she was perfect. 

“You're going back to this band or I'll murder you, okay?” she barked, wiping her tears. 

“Okay” you smiled, feeling all band hug you. Except for the blue hair guy standing far away from the collective hug with his arms crossed, smirking when you looked at him. 

“By the way, I have to introduce you to Kai.” Madison made everyone separate from you, pulling you by the hand to face Kai. “So… this is the new guy, Kai. He's replacing that stupid Kim, you remember that dumb bitch?” She sticks her tongue in a disgusted look. “Anyway, he's weird as hell, but he's the best drummer I know” 

You smiled at Madison, but the moment your eyes met his, the smile faltered. Kai was taller than you wondered, and there was something about the way he stood there, his presence commanding and unreadable. Before you could find the words to speak, Madison tugged you along again, excitedly showing you all the changes the band had gone through since you left.

Kai gave you a smirk before turning back to his drums and bandmates. But that smirk lingered in your mind, and you knew—he was paying attention to you, and that was never a good sign.

Nights of preparation and grueling rehearsals passed, but Kai didn't utter a single word to you. It was driving you crazy. He stood there, silent, watching you like you were a specimen under a microscope, observing every move you made as if you were an exotic animal on display. The air between you thickened with tension every time he looked at you. One week till you join the band in a tour and you were thinking about all of the excuses you could use to talk to him.

“Do you think Kai hates me?” you whispered to Zoe, feeling the weight of his gaze from across the room. She raised an eyebrow, eyes trained on Kai as he stretched his back, preparing for another round of practice.

“Why would you think that?” she whispered back, not taking her eyes off him.

Kai’s gaze flicked toward you, and you and Zoe instinctively turned your attention to the wall, pretending to be lost in thought. When his focus shifted, you both dared to look back. His eyes were locked on you again. It was unnerving.

“He just stares at me every time I come here,” you muttered, watching as he casually grabbed his drumsticks. “It’s... kind of scary.”

“I heard he's been in prison.” Madison stepped by your side, smoking her cigarette with her signature bored look. “You think he has tattoos or piercings?”

“I don't know. We shouldn't guess what people did in their pasts. You don't even know that's true.” Zoe argued, slapping Madison's shoulder when she threw smoke in her face. “What the hell?”

“Don't tell me what to do.” She warned, rolling her eyes. “And.” She paused, smirking at Kai flexing his biceps to warm up. “He has this… serial killer look in his eyes, I don't know. It 's hot.” 

You innerly agree, he was hot as hell. Prisoner or not, his eyes told he could commit a crime anytime he felt a little unease with something. 

Zoe shrugged “I don’t know. He’s actually a pretty funny guy with me. He talks about anime with me all the time.”

“Boys don't talk about anime with girls they wanna hook up with. They keep this conversation for the basics.” Madison mocked, looking down at her, receiving a silent treatment.

“Maybe he’s just not sure how to approach you” Zoe said again, rubbing your shoulders.

Her words didn’t help. In fact, they only made it worse. You weren’t fooling anyone—especially not yourself. You weren’t just waiting for his approach. You were craving his attention, hanging on to every flicker of his gaze. His silence was torturing you. It wasn’t a crush anymore; it was a desperate ache. You felt like you were being pulled into a vortex, and all you could do was hold on, desperate for him to finally say something. Anything.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The game had gone on long enough. You had to do something. No more waiting.

“Hi,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you walked up to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Kai didn't respond immediately. For a long moment, he simply studied you, his gaze shifting from your eyes to the ground, then back up again. His silence was thick, almost suffocating, as if he was trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface.

You stood there, a little awkwardly, waiting for him to say something. His lips twitched slightly, but he said nothing. Instead, his eyes softened for a brief moment before he spoke, his voice low and measured.

“Hi,” he finally replied, his tone guarded, as if every word he spoke was carefully considered.

You fought the urge to smile, feeling a strange mix of relief and frustration. There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he kept his distance, but still seemed to be watching, waiting for the right moment to engage. It made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“So, uh… you like the band?” You blurted out, the question coming out much too fast. You cringed at yourself for how it sounded, as if you were grasping for something to keep the conversation going.

Kai gave you a brief look, his lips pulling into the smallest of smiles before he shrugged. “I guess. I didn’t really know them before… but the music’s good.”

You chuckled nervously, feeling a little relieved that at least you were on the same page about that. "Yeah. It’s definitely... intense." You paused, then added awkwardly, “I used to be in the band, you know? Back in high school.”

Kai’s expression remained neutral, but he nodded slowly, like he was processing the information. “I figured,” he muttered, his voice quiet. “You got that vibe.”

And then, just like that, the conversation seemed to go quiet again. There was something in the air, a kind of mutual recognition. You didn’t know exactly what Kai was thinking, but for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as invisible to him as you had feared.

You cleared your throat again, trying to shake off the unease. “Well, I should probably get back to the others,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward about standing there in silence.

“Yeah. See you around.” He replied, wrapping his hair in a low bun, his cheekbones and eyebags adding a charming look on his attractive face.

“See? I told you he wasn’t scary.” Zoe whispered, waving him goodbye. 

You looked back at him, wanting for his attention, but he already packed up his things to leave. “Yeah. He isn't.”

The day had finally come. Your outfit felt suffocatingly tight as the bus rattled along the uneven road. The fabric clung uncomfortably, amplifying your self-consciousness. You caught Kai glancing at you a few times as you maneuvered through the narrow corridor—retrieving your forgotten phone, heading to the tiny bathroom, or just passing by. His eyes lingered for a fraction longer than polite, yet no words escaped his lips. Not that they ever did.  

When the bus rolled to a stop in front of the hotel, relief swept over you. That evening, the band gathered for a complimentary dinner in a cozy dining room where the centerpiece was an elaborate spread of cheese dishes: creamy fondue, rich cheesecakes, and buttery breadsticks. The air smelled decadent, indulgent—and utterly unkind to you.  

Plot twist: you were lactose intolerant.  

While the others dug in, you sat at the edge of the room, nibbling on a cereal bar and sipping lukewarm Coke from a can. Across the table, Zoe savored every bite of her cheese fondue, moaning softly at the rich flavor. Kai, seated a few chairs away, devoured everything in sight—bread, cakes, dipping sauces. You couldn’t help but watch as he licked the remnants of melted cheese from his fingers, oblivious to the effect his unfiltered satisfaction had on you.  

“Hey, who didn’t get any cheese?” Kai’s voice cut through the chatter, his hand lazily wiping his fingers on his jeans.  

Your stomach twisted. “Uh… I didn’t,” you said softly, shrugging as if it didn’t matter.  

His eyebrows shot up. “Can I have yours?” His tone was casual, almost apologetic, as if he hated himself for asking.  

You hesitated. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, why you weren’t eating. “Sure,” you said, sliding the untouched plate toward him. You watched as he demolished it, the meal vanishing with startling speed.  

After dinner, Kai strolled to the hotel lobby, sprawling on one of the couches with a satisfied groan. Zoe joined him, her laughter ringing out as they talked. Something about the ease between them—the way her hand brushed his knee when she leaned in—made your chest ache.  

You wanted to be her. Just for a moment.  

The invisible weight on your shoulders grew heavier as you retreated to the shared room upstairs. Zoe’s cheerful voice still floated faintly from the lobby. Inside, Madison lay sprawled on her bed, dead to the world, her hair fanned across the pillow in a mess of gold.  

You stood by the window, looking out at the quiet street below, and let the longing sink in. Kai was close—just a floor below you—but he might as well have been on another planet.  

You leaned against the window, letting the cool glass soothe your heated forehead. The streetlights painted golden streaks across the pavement below, cars occasionally passing in a hush. The stillness of the night outside clashed with the chaotic yearning in your chest.  

Kai fucking Anderson.

The way he laughed with Zoe downstairs replayed in your mind like a taunting echo. How did she always manage to be so effortless? So seen? You pulled yourself away from the window and sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your reflection in the small mirror across the room. Your thoughts twisted, irrational and loud.  

You couldn’t sit still. You grabbed your jacket, slipped on your shoes, and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor. Maybe some air would help.  

Downstairs, the hotel lobby was nearly empty. The receptionist tapped away at a computer, oblivious to your presence as you hesitated at the base of the stairs.  

And there he was.  

Kai sat on the same couch, leaning back with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. His other hand held a Monster can, the condensation pooling in droplets on the table beside him. Zoe was gone, leaving him alone in the quiet, his gaze fixed on something unseen.  

Your pulse quickened. Turn back. Go back to the room, your mind whispered. But your feet moved forward, slow and uncertain, until you stood a few feet away.  

“Thanks for the cheese” His voice broke the silence, catching you off guard. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his lips when he glanced at your bare legs. “You’re still awake.”

“I—uh, couldn’t sleep.” You shifted your weight, hugging your jacket around yourself.  

He gestured to the space next to him. “Same here. Want to sit?”  

You hesitated. Then nodded.  

The couch sank slightly under your weight as you sat, careful to leave a respectable gap between you. The air between you felt charged, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable.  

“Not a fan of cheese, huh?” he asked, breaking the quiet.  

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Not exactly. I’m lactose intolerant, allergic to be more specific. I can't even eat a spoon of ice cream without a collapse. The whole dinner was a bit of a nightmare for me. My mind was already at the hospital.”

His brow furrowed, his smirk fading into something closer to guilt. “And I stole your plate. Damn. Sorry, I didn’t know.”  

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, waving it off. “At least it didn’t go to waste.”  

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still, I feel kind of bad. I owe you one, you must be hungry.”  

The words hung in the air, laced with a weight you couldn’t quite place.  

You looked at him, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time. His features were softer in the dim light—his usually sharp jawline slightly relaxed, his dark hair messy and unkempt. There was something vulnerable in the way he avoided your gaze for a moment, almost as if he was afraid of what he’d find if he looked too long.  

“You don’t owe me anything,” you said quietly, surprising even yourself with the sincerity in your voice.  

He met your eyes then, and for a second, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.  

“You’re attractive,” he said, his voice low and laced with something unrecognizable. “Beautiful.”

“What?” you gasped, your heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. Panic bubbled to the surface as he leaned in, his gaze roaming your face with unsettling focus, like he was memorizing every detail.  

“I want to try something,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, softer, pulling you into a dangerous undertow. “Would you mind?”  

Your breath hitched, and all you could manage was a shaky, “Uhm…” You nodded slowly, your head moving almost against your will.  

You tried to steady yourself, adjusting your posture in a weak attempt to appear calm. But it was futile. He was too close now, his face mere inches from yours. The scent of him—clean with a hint of something musky—wrapped around you, clouding your thoughts.  

His lips curved into the faintest smile, like he was savoring your nervousness. “Relax,” he whispered, the word barely audible, more felt than heard. “I'm just checking something.”

And then he leaned in closer, the gap between you disappearing with agonizing slowness. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat like a thunderclap in the silence. His lips hovered just over yours, the ghost of a touch sending shivers down your spine.  

Your mind screamed a hundred questions, but none of them mattered. Not when the moment stretched on, and the tension between you snapped taut, pulling you closer, locking you in place.  

His lips brushed against yours—not tentative, not hesitant, but deliberate. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that stole your breath; it was controlled, calculated. Kai moved with precision, his lips firm and purposeful, as if he were testing a theory, searching for an answer that only you could give him.  

You didn’t move, didn’t resist. You simply let him lead, your body still and pliant under his touch. Your hands rested in your lap, fingers curling slightly as you fought the urge to do anything that might break the spell.  

His hand rose slowly, his fingertips grazing the line of your jaw before settling just beneath your chin, tilting your face upward. His touch was light but commanding, and you followed the motion instinctively, your breath steady despite the racing of your heart.  There was no resistance, no hesitation—just silent obedience, as though this moment belongs entirely to him.  

When he finally pulled back, his gaze lingered on your face, studying you like a scientist examining the results of an experiment. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a fleeting touch that felt more curious than tender.  

“Well?” His voice was low, quiet, almost clinical. “How did that feel?” It felt less like a romantic moment and more like you were under a microscope—but for some reason, you didn’t mind

You blinked, your thoughts muddled, your voice soft when you finally answered. “I… don’t know.”  

Kai’s eyes stayed locked on yours, searching, analyzing, as if your silence spoke volumes. His thumb lingered against your bottom lip for a moment longer before he finally drew back, putting just enough space between you to make the air feel colder. 

“You’re exactly what I’ve been searching for,” he said, his voice steady and deliberate, like a revelation he’d just confirmed.  

The weight of his words pressed against you, heavy and incomprehensible. Your lips parted to speak, but no sound came out.  

Before you could piece your thoughts together, Kai leaned back, his usual calm composure slipping effortlessly into place. He stood, adjusting his jacket as though nothing monumental had just occurred.  

“I’ll see you later,” he said, his tone lighter now, almost casual, as though the last few moments hadn’t left you completely unmoored. Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode toward the elevator, his steps unhurried, confident.  

You watched him disappear, the soft chime of the elevator doors echoing faintly in the quiet lobby. And then, you were alone.  

The stillness of the lobby suddenly felt oppressive, and you found yourself retreating back to your room in a daze. You lay down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts tangled and restless. His kiss, his words, the way he’d studied you so intently—it all , refusing to be ignored. 

And the questions kept you awake until 3 AM.

You scrambled out of bed, grabbing the first clothes you could find in your suitcase and pulling them on haphazardly. Your reflection in the mirror was far from polished, but you didn’t have time to care, not even to your microskirt you forgot you had. You knew his room, a single one, he was firm in his decision to not share it.

You hurried downstairs, the laces of your shoes haphazardly knotted, and paused at his door. A strange noise reached your ears—soft, unsettling. Run. Danger. Get the fuck out of here. Your instincts screamed, but something stronger compelled you to stay. Taking a shaky breath, you twisted the handle and stepped inside.

Kai sat cross-legged on the bed, the flickering glow of candles casting shadows across his face. The red carpet beneath them bore darkened spots where wax had dripped and hardened. On a small desk nearby rested a music box, its haunting melody weaving through the still air. His expression was unreadable, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.  

“You’re late. Close the door and sit,” he commanded, his tone firm yet laced with an edge that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Take your jacket off.”

Your hesitation lasted only a moment before you obeyed, leaving the piece on the chair and perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed. Your gaze flicked between him and the music box, its tune oddly hypnotic.  

“Come closer. Legs crossed,” Kai instructed, his words slicing through the quiet like a blade. Without thinking, your body complied, moving as though pulled by invisible strings, revealing your underwear shy beyond your legs when the skirt rolled up. 

Kai reached for a small piece of a fruit, Pineapple by the scent, his hand poised mid-air, his dark eyes boring into you with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he brought the fruit to your lips. “Eat.”

Every rational thought screamed for you to run far away from that place, yet you parted your lips. The fruit brushed your tongue, its sweetness spreading as his fingers lingered longer than necessary before withdrawing. You chewed slowly, conscious of his hand now resting lightly on your jaw, umid fingers from your saliva trailing down to your throat as you swallowed.

“Do you know what you just ate?” he murmured, his voice low, almost casual, yet carrying an undercurrent of something sharper.  

“Pineapple,” you replied, your voice small. His gaze bore down on you, unrelenting. 

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Bromelain.”

The word sent a ripple of unease through you. You knew what it was—an enzyme found in pineapple. But the way he said it, the deliberate weight he gave to the word, made it feel far removed from any simple scientific fact. 

“You know what bromelain does to the body?” he asked, picking up another piece of pineapple and guiding it to your lips. His smirk deepened as you obediently opened your mouth again, chewing under his watchful eyes. “Good girl.”

“It aids digestion,” you said quietly, your cheeks flushing under the heat of his praise. But alarm bells rang in your mind, his words unsettling despite their surface simplicity. 

“Correct,” he said, his smile widening, another piece of pineapple. He leaned closer, tilting your chin upward with his fingers, his touch impossibly gentle yet commanding. “And do you know why I’m giving it to you?”

“No…” The word barely escaped your lips, shame curling in your stomach at how readily you’d accepted his offering, swallowing another piece.  

His chuckle was soft, dark, and it sent a tremor down your spine. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, coaxing it open just enough for a strand of saliva to glisten before it fell. “Because you need to be ready for what I'll give to you.”

“W-What are you giving me?” you stammered, swallowing hard. The sweetness of the fruit lingered on your tongue, but his nearness overwhelmed every sense.  

His smile never faltered as he leaned even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Milk.”

Your stomach churned as the realization hit. “Milk?” you whispered, the word barely audible over the faint hum of the music box.

His smirk widened, eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. “That’s right. Milk.”

A cold sweat broke across your skin. Your voice trembled as you spoke, barely above a whisper. “Kai, you know I’m allergic—”

“I know.” He cut you off, the sharpness of his tone making your heart lurch. He chuckled softly, the sound low and almost playful, as though your fear were nothing more than a delightful twist in his game. “Relax,” he said, tilting his head, the smile on his lips at odds with the weight of his words. “This isn’t about harming you. It’s… an experiment.”

“Experiment?” you repeated, your voice strained

He nodded slowly. “You trust me, don’t you?” His tone was light, teasing, but the question hit you like a challenge.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The truth was tangled in your throat—Do I have a choice?

“What if I—”

He silenced you with a finger pressed lightly to your lips, his touch gentle but firm. “Shh,” he said, his smirk deepening. “Trust me.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His gaze lingered on you, a mix of admiration and something darker simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re incredible,” he said softly, his words sinking into you like a hook. “So obedient, so easy… So fucking perfect for me.” His thumb traced the curve of your lip, and his voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper, his curse echoing in your mind. “Do you know how much I’ve been searching for someone like you?”

Your breath hitched as his face inched closer, the world narrowing until it was only him—the heat of his body, the weight of his gaze. When his lips finally met yours, it was as though the tension snapped, replaced by something intense and consuming.

The kiss was urgent, his control evident in every movement. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. Your whole body shivers when he tuck his hands inside your shirt, squeezing firmly your bare boobs, his smirk is instantaneous. “No bra? You're such a little slut, aren’t you? You were ready for this.” 

He twists your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, smiling when you cry out on his touch. “Kai… I don't think—”

“Quiet.” His tone is harsh, pinching your nipples harder, shutting you in a whimp. “Don't you think I wouldn't notice you looking at me so fucking needy? Begging me to fuck you till you brainrot? Desperate for my attention?”

You couldn't say nothing, moaning ashamed by the darker patch in your underwear growing like a river. He chuckles deviously again before ripping your shirt easily like paper, shivering by the cold air in your warm soft skin. He leans his head down to nip your left nipple before standing up, sighing as he runs his hands through his blue locks. 

“On your knees.” He commanded in a hoarse, undoing his belt on his dark jeans.”Now.”

Your body responded before your mind could catch up, your legs moving to your knees on the bed. His hands down his pants to his knees, getting you a sight of his rock hard cock inside his black boxers, that follow the same path of his pants. 

“God.” You breathe, biting your cheek innerly, breathing turns into a difficult task with his large cock standing tall next to your face.

“Tell me how much you want it.” His voice came out as a growl, as he held your throat softly. 

“Please…Kai, don't make me-” Your voice is merely a whisper with the lack of air, interrupted by the tightened grip, releasing in a second so you could talk more easily. 

“Tell me how desperate you are for this. I know when you lie. I know when everyone fucking lies. So use your words, cunt.” 

“Please. I want you so bad, Kai. Please. I'm desperate.” You exploded, cooed between coughs and sniffs. 

Kai chuckled at your poor reaction, giving space for you to breathe as he ruffled your hair in an affectionate way, rubbing his length against your cheek. “You're scared?” 

Your orbs catch his unreadable eyes, blinking nervously, his thumb brushing over your nipple while he wrapped his hand around his pulsating cock, softly groaning at the feeling. You pant, replying in a pity voice, “No.”

“Good.” He pouted, brushing a strand of hair from your face, before speaking in a low, dominant whisper “Suck.”

Your heart raced, your stomach twisting in awe and unease. Then, you part your lips, your flat tongue takes a long lick from his base to the tip, nerves sensing his taste while your hands grab his length on the base as your mouth accommodates his size.

“Fuck.” He breaths, moving his hands to the back of your neck to command a slow rhythm, decorating every spot of your mouth. “Touch yourself, I wanna watch you cum while you suck me like a whore.”

You felt ashamed for liking his harsh talk so much, opening wider your mouth, sobbing when his tip reached your throat as his thrusts became desperate. Your fingers tucked desperately inside your panties, stroking your clit just to slide one finger inside you, purring in his cock, til he slaps your hand.  

“Keep your pussy for me, rub your clit.” He hoarses, smirking when you take it out to stroke your spot while you suck his tip.

His hand linger on your hair, pulling it to put you in place as he fucks himself in your mouth, smirking at your crying face, sobbs and drool flowing on your face, which he squeezes after a slap. “Take your punishment for wearing those slut skirts in front of me. You like it, don't you? You like fuck fuck, keep going, babe.”

The vibration of your moans gets him high, rolling his eyes on the back of his head while he concentrates on your fast fingers, twisting. “You gonna cum sucking my cock? Gonna milk my bed?”

You murmur a muffled yes, closing your eyes by feeling your exploding orgasm closer, clenching on the bed. “No, no, no, no. Look at me” He growls, taking your aching jaw in his hand, another whimper escaping from your lips when you face him again with swollen eyes. “Yeah, just like this. Good girl.” 

He chuckles, hardening the grip in your hair as he gets down on your throat, laughing at your gag reflex. “God, you’re so pathetic. Can't live without a cock fucking your throat. So perfect, crying on my cock. So fucking obedient. Ooooh I'm gonna cum inside your mouth and give you the fucking milk you crave. You say that you could collapse by drinking it, but you want so badly, don't you? You want to take my fucking cum to feed yourself. You didn't have dinner, huh? My princess is starving. Take everything, babe. Come on, take it. Take it fuck” he babbles, moaning shamelessly with his cocking pulsating. 

Kai rocks his hips deeper till you feel warm thick wires in your throat with a breathed moan as he reaches his climax, pumping his seed deep and roughly, looking down to your suffering face taking all his spilling cum. “Drink.” 

Your eyes close firmly as you swallow his thick cum, gagging and coughing at the process, the liquid smooth and faintly salty against your laringe. Kai’s smile grew, his dark eyes softening as he leaned closer to kiss the top of your head, his voice low and warm. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with approval when he popped out his softened cock. “See? You did it. I'm so proud of you.” 

His words sent a strange warmth through you, cutting through the fear and arousal, leaving something else in its wake—a flicker of pride enough to rip your lips in a grin. 

Before you could even move, he lay you down on the bed, placing himself between your legs to spread them, catching both your wrists to pin them over your head with one hand, while the other hooked up your legs over his shoulders. “Kai what are you doing—” you try to protest being shut by a rough kiss.

“My girl deserves a reward for being so brave.” He began, leaning down to peck your lips, lifting to nip the thigh placed comfortably in his shoulders. “I'm gonna milk you everyday till you forget about any fucking meal you wanted to taste and couldn't have. You’re mine now, no more starving. Milk me.”

@anitalenia divider

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.

Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.

His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.

I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.

The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.

He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”

“Oh. So, you can’t—?”

“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”

“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”

“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”

His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”

I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”

Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"

“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”

In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.

I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.

When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Not really, why?”

“Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”

“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.

He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”

Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.

When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.

We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”

I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”

“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”

“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”

He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.

After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.

He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”

I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.

In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”

He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”

“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.

I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.

I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.

Prev // Next

[wreckedandpolemic]

spilling amaretto - george daniel

(mdni) in which you and george make good use of an empty bar after closing time (or, the bartender!george au). 5375 words.

warnings: daddy kink (i'm sorry), public sex, praise, degradation, spanking, oral (f receiving), brief mentions of body insecurity, gratuitously slutty matty cameo

The expression the night shift makes for strange bedfellows had never been one you’d much considered until now, with George’s body warming the sheets as you stir awake. You couldn’t pinpoint when the tension between you had begun, but you know the sequence of events that had pulled you into his bed tonight. It had started in the walk-in fridge, ironically in the least sexy way possible.

You crumple to the floor, shivering in the chill and covering your eyes, silent sobs wracking your body. Just as you stand, your deadline on self-pity drying up, the door bangs open. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way, I—” Your words die in your throat as you look up at George, his frame towering in the doorway.

“You alright, sweets? What’s wrong?” He’s watching you, concern written across his face.

You sigh. “Nothing.” You move to push past him, but he stops you with a carefully placed hand, heat prickling under your skin at his touch. George fixes you with a look. “Been doing three people’s jobs fucking thanklessly all day. Tony’s up my arse, as per. Woman on seventeen shouting at me because I brought her the drink she fucking ordered and she didn’t read the pissing menu. Had a shit day yesterday, I’m on the fucking close today. I dunno, s’all just shit.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, a humiliated flush creeping up your cheeks as tears brim on your lashes.

“C’mere, sweets, s’gonna be fine. C’mon, I’ve got you,” George murmurs, folding you into his arms. You melt against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing. His hand comes up stroke along your back, tracing delicate patterns over your spine. “There you are, pretty girl.” Embarrassingly, your heart jumps. “I’ll take the close, yeah? Or at least get him to put me on it as well.”

You shake your head, mortified. “No, don’t. M’being a baby. It’s not that big a deal.” Wiping your eyes, you sniff and try to suck it up, dragging your feet as you start to head back to the neglected bar.

“If you’re this upset, it’s a big deal, love. I don’t mind taking it, I’m serious. Could use the extra couple of quid, honestly.” George smiles earnestly down at you, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you return it thinly. “See, I got you, promise.” Slightly less shaken, you follow George back to the bar, slipping back into customer service mode with a falsely cheerful Hiya, sorry for the wait. How can I help?

George flags down your manager and essentially strongarms him into sharing the close with you, cheerfully taking over the till as you weave past him with a tray of drinks. The second you emerge from the glasswash, you hear the sound of snapping fingers behind your head, and you clench your teeth.

You turn as slowly as possible, nails biting into your palms to keep calm. “Giz a Stella, would you, beautiful?” the customer leers through genuinely about three teeth, and you shudder.

“There’s a queue,” you say flatly, and he frowns.

“Oh, smile for me, sweetheart,” he says, not even pretending to hide the way he’s addressing your chest. “Come on, you’re a pretty girl, it’s a beautiful day, you gotta giz a smile,” he smirks, sleazy and unsettling.

Thankfully, George steps up behind you, resting a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Don’t speak to her like that, mate.” His tone is firm, perfectly polite and yet undercut with a threat that you know he can back up.

“Who’s this, your boyfriend?” he sneers, leaning close enough that you can smell alcohol sharp and acrid on his breath. “Like an older man, do you, pretty?”

You just stare, stunned into silence, until George slams his hand down on the bar and you jump. “Get out,” he orders, low and furious. “Get the fuck out of my bar before I haul your sorry arse out myself.” He’s deadly quiet, angry in a way you’ve rarely seen him, and the guy seems to sense that he’s serious; he flees with his tail between his legs and you snort.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a little shaken.

“Of course. You okay? D’you need a minute?” You smile up at him, nervously tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear and turning to pour a pint.

“Nah, I’m alright. S’long as I’ve got you to rescue me,” you grin, eyes focused on the glass in your hand as you flush red.

George slides his hand down to your hip, squeezing gently, and heat flares between your thighs. “Always.”

Service slowly winds down, until finally, blissfully, the last customer clears off. You throw up two fingers at their back, mouthing good fuckin’ riddance, and George shakes his head with a laugh. “You feelin’ better?” he asks, leaning across you to reach for the glasses stacked on the bar in front of you.

The heat of his body warms you through, the scent of his cologne dizzying as it envelops you. “Y-yeah,” you say, desperately trying to calm your racing heart. “Thanks.”

“Good,” George grins, placing a hand on your waist and gently nudging you to the side. You turn, pinned between him and the bar as you look up into his smirking face. Your heart hammers, a needy, trembling thing, and he leans close. “You’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that, you know?”

He’s so close you can feel his breath against your lips, so close you could memorise every square inch of his face, so close your chest is constricting. You lean away before you do something stupid, huffing a quiet laugh. “Fuck off.” You flush, grateful for the bar’s dim lighting.

“Am I interrupting something?” Matty’s teasing voice startles you out of your trance, and you scowl playfully at him.

“Yes, actually,” you retort. “Don’t you have cutlery to polish, or something?”

Matty laughs, the sound low and rich, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Everyone’s done closing except you unlucky fuckers. Just came for a pint.” You roll your eyes, watching him critically as you start him a Guinness. His chef jacket is stained, hanging  unbuttoned off his shoulders, the tank top underneath sweaty and tight to the contours of his body. You bite your lip a little, his frame undeniably attractive as he steps outside and lights a cigarette.

“G, d’you want something to drink before I close the taps?” you call, pouring yourself a cider as Matty wanders back in. You can’t help but watch the muscles in his throat as he swallows, the way his thumb brushes across his plush lips when he wipes his mouth.

Matty smirks back at you like he can read your thoughts and leans close. “Anytime, darling,” he murmurs, sudden warmth flooding your body. “Either of us. Or both, if that’s what you want.” You can’t help but imagine it, the heat pooling in your belly suddenly too much to bear.

“Nah, I’m alright, sweets. Thank you, though,” George says, emerging from the back. He huffs a disbelieving laugh at the sight of you and Matty, seemingly sensing the tension in the air between you. “Mate, are you ever not thinking with your dick?”

“Just makin’ sure she keeps her options open,”  Matty says, downing the rest of his drink and standing. “You two have a good night.” He pats your ass and strolls off, humming cheerfully as he goes.

George huffs, folding his arms and staring in the direction Matty left from. “I can’t believe him. Sorry, sweets. He’s full of shit.”

You can barely believe the words that fall from your lips, but they’re out there before you can think them through. “Is he? Or is that true?” you ask, fixing George with your best innocent eyes. “Have you ever shared a girl?”

You’re breathless, the room suddenly far too small for the swell of tension pulling between you. “A couple times,” George says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “Why? Is that something you want, sweets?”

Thoughts race through your head so fast you’re set spinning, a coin set on its edge. Flashes of fantasies fill your vision, of plush lips and greedy hands and tattooed skin and sharp teeth; of three bodies, of slick sweat and slicker thighs, of bending over and being filled everywhere at once, of gentle praise and taking it like a good girl. You’re sure George can read your thoughts on your face, but you answer anyway. “Maybe. Maybe I want you all to myself, first.”

His grin is wicked, promising as he leans close, pinning you against the bar and speaking against your lips. “I’m right here, sweets.”

Your bravado collapses.

“I’m gonna go and do a restock,” you mutter, looking everywhere but his eyes. Thankfully, George relents, lets you slip out from under him and dart off to the cellar, but you can feel his eyes burning into your back as you go.

Heat flushes your body even in the cool of the cellar, the memory of George’s touch ghosting over your skin, his searching gaze, the promise of something unnameable hanging in the air between you. You lull yourself back into calmness with the rhythmic rattle of bottles as you pack them away, carefully hefting a full crate and lugging it up the steps. George rushes over as you kick the door open, easily lifting the crate from your hands. “Should’ve come and got me, love,” he chides, and you scoff, pouring yourself a rum and coke just to have something to do with your hands.

“I can do it myself just fine,” you say, even as you shamelessly ogle the muscles in his arms, biting on your straw to keep your thoughts inside.

“Trust me, sweets, I know exactly how capable you are. I’m just trying to be a gentleman, take care of you like a lady,” he adds, tossing you a smirk that drips down your spine, the words catching in your throat and bleeding into your lungs.

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you paste on a grin. “You’re so full of shit. Nobody who works here is a gentleman. Or a fucking lady.”

George shrugs. “Maybe not. Does that mean you don’t want me taking care of you, sweets?” There’s no mistaking his meaning, the slick, hot undercurrent of his voice. Your thighs clench involuntarily.

You knock back the rest of your drink for courage before you answer. If you pussy out again, you’re going to lose your nerve completely. “And what if I do?”

There’s a sharp exhale, then George crosses the bar in three long strides, crowding you against it but hovering just out of your reach. “Then I’d say be careful what you wish for, pretty girl. You sure you wanna get mixed up with me?” He grins wolfishly, and you shudder, arousal pooling in your belly. You nod, heartbeat thumping in your throat. “Last chance, darling.”

The epithet sends a burst of heat between your legs, and you bite down on a whine. “Shut up and kiss me,” you groan, stretching up to sling your arms around his neck. Finally, gloriously, he does.

The kiss is explosive, hungry, an outpouring of pent-up energy and desire. George’s big hands cup your face, fingers rough as he slides them up into your hair, unpinning the clip and letting it tumble loose over your shoulders. His tongue meets your lips and you part them eagerly, letting him lick frenzied into your mouth. You make out until you’re dizzy from lack of oxygen, pulling back to gaze up at George dreamily. “You,” he groans, kissing you so softly it would almost be chaste if your lips weren’t still dripping with his spit. “Have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.”

You giggle as his lips find your jaw, fingers gently sweeping your hair off your neck and trailing down kisses. “I think I have an idea.” You push his head away so you can look in his eyes, wide and liquid and luminous. “But why don’t you tell me anyways?” you add, grinning slightly.

“Wanted you from the first second I saw you, sweets,” George promises, kissing over the hollow of your throat. “Mmm, up you get, c’mon, love,” he says, tapping your thigh until you jump up and lock your legs around his waist. Sweet, blunt pain blossoms from where his fingers dig into your thighs as he carries you across the floor and deposits you on the other side of the bar. “First fucking second you walked in here, dolled up all pretty in that little white skirt, all ready for this place to ruin you, fuck. Should be fuckin’ locked up for the things I thought about you,” he groans, kissing softly over your jaw.

Tipping your head back, you moan softly as George nips at your neck. “What’d you think about?” you ask, sliding your hands under his shirt and mapping the vast, smooth expanse of his back with your fingertips.

George’s hand comes down to your chest, squeezing your tit before he pops a button on your uniform shirt. “Could see those little black panties through your skirt. Wanted to— mmm— get on my knees for you, pull ‘em off with my teeth, get my mouth on you.” He breaks up his words with slow, indulgent kisses, heat curling in your belly as you wrap your legs around him. “Got myself off so many fuckin’ times thinking about you. How you’d taste, what you’d look like under me, whether you’d be a good girl or a little brat.” George pinches your nipple through your shirt and you gasp into his mouth, arching your back and letting him loose your last button.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your tits, and you flush crimson when you realise you’re clad in your most unflattering underwear. “Sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t expecting— If I’d known—” George’s rough fingers tug down the cups of your bra, bending his head to press featherlight kisses over your tits.

“Don’t fucking apologise, are you mad? Been dreaming about these pretty tits of yours for months, sweets. Gonna worship them properly when I get you in a bed, promise.” George bites at your tits, blunt pain spreading from the points his teeth graze your skin and falling to your cunt. Your back arches when he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and pulling a moan from your lips. “Shit, y’so pretty, baby. You want me to go down on you?”

Your cunt clenches, desire pulsing dizzily through you. “Here?” you gasp out, the last vestiges of your rational brain clinging to control.

George laughs. “Why not? Everyone’s gone home. S’just you and me, sweets. Can scream as loud as you want for me, yeah?”

Clumsily, you wriggle out of your jeans and let them crumple to the floor under you, watching his eyes blow wide at the sight of you in just your work shirt and underwear. “Better make me scream, then. Do your worst, Daddy.”

He chokes, eyes glinting with steel. You glance down to see his cock straining against the confines of his jeans, your mouth watering and head spinning at how fucking hard he is. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweets,” George says, low voice stirring a thrill in your belly.

You throw him a challenging smirk. “Shouldn’t you be finishing me?” you tease. His hands creep down to your waist, your body trembling at his touch as he slides your panties down your legs. The sight of them crumpled on top of the bar is flusteringly obscene, your cunt pulsing as George drops to his knees.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, kissing at the insides of your thighs as you squirm.

“Stop staring at me,” you complain, pressing a hand to the back of George’s head to urge him closer.

“Can’t help it, sweets. You’re a fuckin’ masterpiece. This cunt is so pretty, ‘n I bet she tastes so sweet, too,” he says, in that slow, implacable drawl of his. The seconds between you stretch, pulled like taffy, the eagerness in your limbs almost vibrating.

Finally, gloriously, George leans in, licking a broad, flat stripe along your cunt, moaning as the taste of you hits his tongue. You cry out, legs kicking helplessly in the air. “Oh, my God,” you moan, heat pulsing in your core when George kisses your clit and sucks it into his mouth. “George, please,” you whine, white-knuckling the wooden bar-top as he licks at you with fervour.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs. “Taste so fucking sweet. Want Daddy to make you cum, baby?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, mouthing over you as your back arches to press your hips against his mouth. Liquid heat pours down your spine, hot and sugary as it drips over George’s lips.

Calloused fingers brush along your inner thighs, creeping higher and higher until you’re full so fast you’re choking. “Oh, fuck, yes!” you cry, euphoria twisting through your bloodstream as George sets a punishing rhythm, your head hazy as the rest of the room fades from your consciousness.

George licks at you starvingly, one big hand digging into your thigh while the other fills you ruthlessly, waves of hot, sweet pleasure cascading over you. Your cunt throbs wildly around his fingers, thighs clamped around his head like a vice as he moans against you. “So pretty, sweets. You ready to cum for Daddy, hm?” The vibration of his words as they ripple through you have you melting, pure bliss splattering on your ribcage and dripping down your insides. 

He curls his fingers just so, a pulse of wild, frenzied ecstasy knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your cunt throbs around his fingers, pleasure humming in every corner of your body as you cum against George’s tongue. “Shit, Daddy, m’cumming, fuck! Oh, fuck, I can’t— fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as arousal floods out against his tongue and drips down his fingers.

Grinning wickedly, George lifts his head, sucking his wet fingers into his mouth deliberately slow and teasing. He stands, catching your lips in a hungry kiss, the taste of you smearing sticky between your mouths. Carelessly, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks. “God, look at you. So fuckin’ pretty, sweets.” You tug your panties back on and hop to your feet, legs wobbly as you readjust to carrying your own weight. Bending over to retrieve your jeans, you suck in a sharp breath as George taps your ass, not hard enough to be a slap, but definitely more than a pat. “Oh,” he says, the smirk in his voice audible. “You like that? Good little girl wants Daddy to spank her, yeah?”

Your stomach clenches, flames licking along your thighs at his words. Grinning, you turn to face him. “And who said I was a good girl?” George’s gaze burns hot, darkly intense over your skin as you fix your bra and button your shirt. “Maybe I’m filthy. Maybe I’m a whore.” A grin stretches wide over your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. Your eyes flicker down to where his cock is straining against his jeans, the sheer size of his bulge making your mouth water. “D’you need some help with that, Daddy? Could be your little cocksleeve, if you want. Any hole you want, promise,” you smirk, slinking past him to toss your empty glass in the back. “Just gotta take me home, first.”

George’s hands are shaking as he locks the doors behind you, and you thrill; feel a sick sense of pride at flustering him for a change. You don’t let up on the drive to his place, propping your feet up against the dash and drawing slow circles over your clit, slow, deliberate pleasure seeping into your bloodstream. The light flush spreading across his cheeks emboldens you, your lips parting around a moan. “D’you know how many times I’ve— mm— got off thinking about you? Dreamed about gettin’— shit— getting fuckin’ split open on your dick?”

A sound that’s pure lust spills from George’s mouth. “God, we wasted so much time,” he groans. “First time you came to shift drinks, you were sat in my lap, ‘n I almost asked to fuck you right then. Would’ve, if I’d known what a needy little slut you are.”

Your head tips back, gasping as you speed your motions over your clit. “I remember that,” you moan. “Was tryin’ every fucking trick, y’know? All the grinding and the whispering and the fuck-me eyes. Would’ve thought you weren’t interested, ‘cept you were holding my waist so tight I couldn’t have got up if I wanted to. Never finished the guy I went home with, ‘cause he left after I called him George when I came,” you add. George’s jaw clenches.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “M’gonna make you forget every guy you’ve ever fucked, sweets, I promise you that.” Your thighs clench, anticipatory. One of George’s big hands wanders to cover your own, his fingers replacing yours over your clit. “God, y’so wet for me, baby. Bet I could just fuckin’ fill you up right now and you wouldn’t even notice, right?” You moan helplessly as he does just that, sliding two of his fingers into you alongside your own. “Don’t worry, sweets, we’re not far now. Needy cunt’s gonna get filled up soon, promise.”

At first, George matches your rhythm, then speeds until your nails are digging into his inked, muscled arm for dear life as he finger-fucks you ruthlessly. Pleasure pins you back against your seat, breath stolen from your lungs as if you’re driving a hundred miles an hour. He drags you to your peak, so tantalisingly close that you can fucking taste it, then pulls away cruelly. Before you can so much as whine, he tosses you a shit-eating grin. “We’re here, love,” he says, parking his car and climbing out.

You take George’s hand as he helps you out of the car, let him pin you against the cold metal and kiss him feverishly, your jeans still unbuttoned and sliding off your hips. “Bed, please,” you whimper against his lips.

“Whatever you want, you’ll get, sweets,” he grins. Your stomach swoops as he picks you up bridal style, his heartbeat thumping in time with yours when you press your head against his chest. He descends on you with starving lips as you fall into his bed, licking furiously into your mouth and tearing at your clothes. You’re naked and George is shirtless and panting before you break apart, roaming your hands over his sweat-damp skin and grinding against his cock through his jeans.

“Want you to fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy,” you add coyly, parting your lips coquettishly and letting your tongue loll out a little.

George just grins, kneeling up and grabbing your hips to roll you onto your stomach. “Not just yet, sweets. Gotta spank you first, make sure you’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”

Face pressed into the pillows, you moan helplessly, unconsciously widening your legs as you drip over George’s sheets. You arch your back, push your ass up towards him, whine something incoherent into the pillow. You hear the harsh crack of flesh against flesh before you feel the pain, a sweet sting sliding deliciously through your body. The second slap is just as unexpected as the first, but you feel it more acutely; the same, stinging pain undercut with the bite of metal where his rings connect with your skin. “Daddy, yes,” you moan, writhing happily as he hits your other cheek.

“Y’such a slut, baby,” he coos, gently kneading your flaming skin and nudging your legs further apart. “I fuckin’ love it,” he adds, his grin audible.

“I’d say it’s only for you, but that’d be a lie,” you smirk. “I’m just a slut. A dirty fuckin’ slut. You can do anything you want to me, and I’ll like it, promise.”

“Is that right?” George breathes, low and dangerous. It’s all the warning you get before his hand comes down hard against your cunt, a shockwave of pleasure crashing over you. You gasp and writhe, pleading incoherently as he slaps you again.

Your head thrashes back and forth, tension coiling hot in your belly. “George, please,” you whimper. “Just fuck me. I’ll be good for you, promise. I need you s’bad, Daddy.”

“Such a little whore,” he says reverently. “Jesus, this arse,” he groans, watching the fat of it ripple under another slap. “These fucking hips, those tits,” he practically moans. “D’you know how crazy this perfect little body makes me, sweets?”

Heat floods your cheeks, the intensity of his gaze palpable as George maps every inch of your exposed skin. Briefly, you thank God that you’re facedown; this level of scrutiny over your stomach would send you spiralling. “S’not that little.”

George laughs. “What are you, sweets? Five-four?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you say flatly, and George seems to sense the souring of your mood.

He flips you over, gentle concern written across his face. There’s no pity there, though, his eyes still dark with lust as he brushes your hair out of your face. “D’you remember that time we went out and you were wearing that tiny, tight little black dress?” You nod. You remember exactly how self-conscious you were in it, too. “Thought I was gonna fuckin’ burn a hole in it from how hard I was staring. Y’looked so fuckin’ good, could barely control myself. Got off thinkin’ about fucking you in it every night for a week. Drove me crazy. Don’t worry, sweets, m’gonna fuck all the thoughts out of that pretty head of yours, okay?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Want you bad,” you add shakily, stretching up to kiss him hungrily, and George smirks against your mouth.

“There you are, pretty girl. C’mon, legs up, yeah? Gonna fuckin’ wreck you.” You obey thoughtlessly, gazing up at him with lust-blown eyes as he peels out of his jeans and boxers in one motion. Drool floods your mouth at the sight of his cock springing free, hard and heavy and fucking huge between his legs.

“Fuck me,” you groan, pressing your head back. “Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, Daddy, please,” you whine, letting him fit himself between your legs and slowly slide his cock through your folds. Pleasure ripples through you as he presses into you, the feeling divine as you stretch around his head.

George buries his head in your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans. “This needy cunt’s takin’ me so well, sweets. So wet for me,” he praises, one of his hands coming down to play with your tit, grasping and squeezing greedily. “Would you think I was a fucking pervert if I told you I’ve had dreams about fucking these gorgeous tits?” A heady, dizzying pulse of arousal hits your core, arousal dripping out over George’s cock as he slowly starts to move.

“Maybe. If I didn���t like you so much,” you giggle. “I mean, you’re, what? Twelve years older than me? Some perverted old man at my job starin’ at my tits so hard he tips lager over a customer?” George winces, and you laugh. “I noticed. So filthy, Daddy,” you add smugly, moaning against his mouth when he fills you slow and deep. Pleasure winds tight through your body, fizzing and sparking sweetly in your chest.

“Can you blame me? I mean, fuck, look at you. D’you have a single fuckin’ clue what you do to me in those low-cut little tops you wear?” The praise sends liquid heat curving up your spine. The knowledge that you’re the one getting him off, that you’re the object of his fantasies is nothing short of dizzying. “Takes all my fucking self-control not to just—” George cuts himself off, burying his head between your tits and lapping hungrily at your skin. You moan happily as his teeth scrape against your flesh, the sudden, sharp pain delicious as it falls to your core.

Your chest is heaving and spit-slick by the time George looks up, cunt soaked and clenching around him. “Need it harder, Daddy, please,” you beg, locking your legs around his waist as he fucks into you. You can feel every single inch of him, feel the pressure of his body against yours, feel his heartbeat kicking in tune with yours.

“So gorgeous, sweets. Such a good girl for your Daddy, yeah?” His hips slam against yours, every breath a struggle against the liquid ecstasy filling your lungs. He’s crooning out soft praises, lowering his head to kiss and bite at your tits again. The thought of the bruises that’ll litter your chest tomorrow makes you thrill, hips rocking up against George’s as you careen towards your orgasm.

One of his big hands trails down to rub circles into your clit, wetness smearing under his fingertips as pleasure races uncontrollably through you. “George, please,” you whimper, back arching and legs trembling. 

“Right there, aren’t you, sweets?” George croons, rough fingers scraping over your sensitive nerves. He lowers his head, covers your mouth with his, kisses you so gently it would almost be sweet if he weren’t fucking into you at a brutal, uncontrolled pace. “God, you feel so good, so fucking good. Better than I could have dreamed, angel.”

You flush red, squeezing your eyes shut bashfully. Your orgasm builds and builds, a ball of pleasure screwed tightly in your core, hot and overpowering. It’s more intense than you think you’ve ever felt, George fucking deep into you with your body practically folded in half. “Shit, Daddy, m’gonna— I can’t— Fuck!” you cry, your vision whiting out as you cum impossibly hard. Your entire body turns liquid, arousal literally gushing out of you and flooding the mattress. “Oh, my God,” you whine, convulsing with pleasure as George grips your hips to hold you steady.

“Oh, baby,” George murmurs, hips still rocking steadily against yours as you float back down to Earth. “Shit, you fucking— Does that— I mean, was that me?”

You giggle. “If you’re asking me if anyone’s ever made me squirt before, the answer’s no. Guess that makes you the best I’ve ever had, huh?” George smirks, still rubbing your clit as he fucks into you, near-unbearable heat burning you from the inside out. “Are you gonna cum, Daddy? You wanna fill up my slutty cunt like I need?”

His pace turns erratic, desperate, your nails digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself to reality. “God, this cunt is so perfect, sweets. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum, make you all mine, yeah?” The words have barely left his lips before he does just that, spilling inside of you and groaning your name against your lips. You moan happily as his cock pulses, ropes of cum painting your insides white.

You kiss him greedily, whining when he pulls out, his eyes falling to your messy, dripping cunt. “You dreamed about me?” you grin, and George flushes siren-red, caught. “Were they dirty dreams?” you tease, rolling on top of him and resting on your elbows to gaze down at him.

His eyes are wide with lust, and he looks almost shy as he speaks. “Dreamed about this,” he grins. “Thought about how good your cunt would feel, how gorgeous you’d look cumming for me. Dreamed about your pretty lips around my dick, about tasting your pretty pussy. God, I just want you to sit on my fuckin’ face and drown me, sweets.” 

Smirking wickedly, you push yourself up into a sitting position. “That can be arranged,” you say, straddling him and moaning softly as you grind your cunt against George’s stomach. “Are you hungry?”

George licks his lips, eyes glinting as you shuffle your way up his body and kneel over his face. His tongue flickers out to tease your clit, and you gasp, hands fisting in the sheets. You feel him smirk against your core. “Starving.”

[jenflirts]

mending my broken heart

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

theme: angst :)

summary: maybe you're the one...

warning: profanities, grammar, no ghostface and cheating

a/n: based on my feelings :) | enjoy.

Falling for someone isn’t for weak people,

Nor being attached,

Nor loving someone.

These are the feelings that will make you mentally and physically weak, just because you would do everything just to have them, just to give them all your attention, love, and hell, even your soul, but why isn’t it for the weak? Well, only emotionally controlled people can survive these challenges. These are the obstacles that we face when we’re in love and this makes us vulnerable.

We’ve always thought that if a partner loves or falls for you it means they’ve accepted your flaws, insecurities, clinginess, stupidity, good days and bad ones, but sometimes don’t you think that they accepted that because they needed too? Out of pity? Or sometimes just to play you cause they’re just bored. I’ve always thought about falling in love and being vulnerable to a person, but then my overthinking mind stops me from doing so.

Yeah, taking from my perspective—a person that’s been played and got attached too many times just because they showed affection—I’ve been hurt so much that I don’t even count how many times that they scarred my heart and still gave them another chance. I did everything I could just not to fall for someone, but I just can’t stop myself ‘cause it feels like an addiction I cannot control. I keep thinking about the past relationships I had and even thought about the times that I let my heart heal and mend it by myself and yet, I keep longing for the wrong people and their fucked up affections.

And then there’s Tara, the girl that makes me feel special, the person that let me believe that love is worth waiting for, and love really does exist. Tara is the type of person that would really make you fall in love with her and not in the bad way, but because she’s the type of girl that you’ll feel comfortable to be around with, rides with your antics, will help you in any possible way, and makes you love your true self.

Tara and I have been dating for almost 2 years and the truth is I’ve fallen deeply in love with her, she already accepted my vulnerability and I accepted hers so there’s really no turning back. I’ve thought about these feelings thoroughly ‘cause I don’t want to hurt her nor she wants to hurt me, I’ve always wanted to feel vulnerable around someone I trust and love the most ‘cause I don’t want to let people see my true facade. Tara saw something in me that people don’t and she’s been helping me to cope up with that.

Everything has been great ever since I dated Tara.

December 09

It's our finals and both of us are stressed out since both of us picked a hard course and I actually want to do something special for her since it’s our anniversary so I’ve prepared dinner, movies and gifts just to surprise her. I went home earlier than she did so I could prepare the things I wanted to give and the words that I wanted to say; Thankfully, Sam and Mindy helped me to do everything.

“Minds? Do you think Tara would like it if I gave her a promise ring on our anniversary?” I asked the girl as we strolled through the jewelry shop. She stopped her tracks and looked at me surprised “A promise ring? Really? Doesn’t that curse relationships?” She asked as she glimpsed the rings.

A promise ring breaks relationships? Now what kind of fuck-mind would believe that. “And where did you get that information? Is it one of those crazies at the uni?” I joked.

“I’m just telling you that rings don't mean forever,” she said. That’s actually true, but I’m not gonna listen to her and Tara deserves a promise that I will love her forever so I picked out the ring and necklace for our anniversary tomorrow.

I helped Tara go inside our apartment and took the blindfold off. She engulfed me into a hug and kisses all over my face. "Tara, we need to eat" I said as I put her down on the floor.

Everything went smoothly and both ended with a promise to love and hold forever.

December 14

The day that feels eerie and gut wrenching, it feels so slow and bothering. "Minds, Tara hasn't texted me for the last few weeks and it's concerning me" I said as I tossed her my phone to check Tara and I's conversation.

"She also hasn't been going home" I added and groaned loudly.

"Yeah, I noticed that. You didn't confront her about this? But I always see her at the uni tho" She said.

Is Tara avoiding me? Did I do something wrong last week? Did she do something wrong? Did something happen that I didn't know? A lot of things suddenly hits me, I thought about everything that I've done last week ago, but nothing really came into my mind.

It's already past midnight and I'm still going on about Tara. I heard the door open and keys tossed on the counter. I went outside and checked if Tara's here or just Mindy wanted to crash by.

"Tara? Baby? Where were you?" I asked as I sat beside her on the living room coach.

"Sam's and did some thinking, so can we talk?" she said.

Why does it feel so suffocating? The way she looks at me feels so different; it feels empty and drained. I nodded and sat in front of her.

"For the last few weeks I've been isolating myself to you and it felt different after what I did. It's been perfect for the last 2 years and I loved every single moment that we've done, but I think we must part our ways and fix ourselves" She cried.

What? Just like that? After 2 fucking years? She's just going to throw it all away? I was too stunned to speak, my brain was spewing out words, but my mouth can't function properly. I felt my eyes stung and tears rolled down on my cheeks.

"So? That's it? Gonna throw away our 2 year relationship out the fucking window like its nothing? Damn Tara, I don't know what to say nor to react" I said as I wiped the tears that keep continuing running down on my cheeks.

She doesn't say anything, but her eyes tells me differently like she's guilty for not telling me the reason why.

"Tara, what's the sudden break-up? what's the reason? 'cause I know for a goddamn fact that it's not about self improvement shits. Tell me so that we could fix it" I assured her

She shook her head no and keeps sobbing uncontrollably. I went to her and wiped her tears; I held her hands, "Love? what happened? tell me so we could fix it" I said as I gently squeeze her hand.

She slowly stopped crying and let me wiped her mascara tear-stains. "It was at Wes's parties and you were studying for your final lesson at that time. Amber snuck me out and helped me unwind by bring me to Wes's parties then I got drunk and I couldn't control myself and so did Chad" she explained.

I couldn't believe it.

The love of my life, cheated.

The girl that I trusted the most, cheated.

I felt my whole world fell apart. It feels like my heart just shuttered into pieces, it feels like there's a new cut to it. I feel betrayed, angry and disappointed all at the same time.

I stood up and went back to my seat and comprehend what just Tara said. I can't do this right now, my mind is all over the place.

"babe? hey? I thought we were gonna fix these" she said

does she really think there's something to be fix? I gave her my everything and this is how she repays me. cheating on me with my other best friend? damn, that's another form of betrayal.

"tara, get out. I can't right now. I just want to be alone for a moment"

She doesn't understand what pain I'm going through right now.

After Tara closed the apartment door, I tried smashing everything so that I could somewhat calm down.

I sat on the living room floor and thought about the things that I have done on why Tara have to do this. Wasn't I enough? Am I that easy to replace? Is our relationship just out of pity? There's so much unanswered questions that I have on my mind, but right now I just want to be alone and mend my broken heart.

I thought she was the one that’s going to help me mend up the open cuts that people leave on my heart, but I would never predict that she was going to leave a big one.

(part 2 of my lovely, jenna is on-going)