#I'm not a particularly nice person; I'm polite

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[harrysfolklore]

did you see that video of tom holland pushing the paparazzi off zendaya? Yeah I thinking about something similar but with Charles Leclerc x famous!reader

something short and sweet bc i'm not posting a new fic this week but i hope you enjoy it!

The flash of cameras was something you were used to, but tonight felt different. As you stepped out of the car at the prestigious event, Charles' hand firmly in yours, the crowd of paparazzi seemed more aggressive than usual. The combination of an A-list actress and a Formula 1 star had created a media frenzy.

"YN! Over here!" "Charles! This way!" "Are you two official?" "YN, how does it feel dating a racing driver?" "Charles, what's it like dating a Hollywood star?"

The shouting was overwhelming, and despite your years of experience handling red carpets, you felt yourself tense as the photographers pressed closer, their cameras mere inches from your face.

"Stay close to me," Charles murmured, his thumb stroking reassuringly over your knuckles.

"I'm used to this," you whispered back, trying to maintain your composed smile.

"I know, but this is crazy even for me."

You felt Charles' grip on your hand tighten protectively as one particularly aggressive photographer pushed forward, nearly causing you to stumble in your heels.

"Watch it!" Charles snapped, his accent thickening with anger as he steadied you. In an instant, his demeanor changed from polite to protective. He moved swiftly, positioning himself between you and the crowd.

"Back off," he said firmly. "I said back off! You're being too aggressive."

His arm wrapped securely around your waist, creating a barrier between you and the chaos. "That's enough. We'll pose for photos, but give us space."

"Charles, it's okay," you tried to soothe him, though you appreciated his protection.

"No, it's not okay," he responded, his jaw clenched. "They don't get to push you around just because you're a public figure."

The authority in his voice made several photographers take a step back. You could feel the tenseness in his body as he guided you through the crowd.

"Almost there," he assured you quietly. "Just a few more steps."

"YN! One more shot!" "Charles! Look this way!" "Are you living together?"

"Just ignore them," you whispered to Charles, sensing his growing irritation.

As you finally reached the relative safety of the venue's entrance, Charles's posture relaxed slightly, but his protective hold remained. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, completely ignoring the renewed frenzy of camera flashes the gesture triggered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his green eyes scanning your face with concern. "I've never seen them this aggressive."

"I'm fine," you assured him, straightening his tie affectionately. "I'm used to it, remember? Though I have to admit, having my own personal bodyguard is nice."

He smiled softly, but his eyes remained serious. "Nobody gets to treat you like that," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Not even if they have cameras. I don't care if it's part of the job."

"My hero," you teased, trying to lighten his mood.

"I'm serious, mon coeur. I know this comes with both our careers, but there's a line."

In that moment, despite the chaos around you, you couldn't help but smile. You'd dealt with aggressive paparazzi before, but having someone who instinctively moved to protect you, who prioritized your comfort over the perfect photo op - that was new.

"Thank you," you said softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For having my back."

"Always," he promised, taking your hand again. "Ready to go face the slightly more civilized cameras inside?"

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Lead the way, Leclerc."

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

series masterlist

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.

[ms-demeanor]

Some people on the left are discussing whether the left is kind enough to me. Especially after the results of the election like lots of men of some demographics voting for Trump. Do you have any thoughts on that? Seems more about women should be nicer to men in some people’s opinions. And I am not sure about this discourse

i think that the social atomization that contributes to the radicalization of young men also contributes to, like, tradwifery and the radicalization of young women so I think that people are looking at a deep systemic issue with a shallow lens.

I don't think this is so much an issue of people being "nice" but of spaces making people feel *valued.*

The right-wing space full of toxic masculinity where people call disaffected young men "brother" isn't comforting just because people call you brother, it's because they're framing disaffected young men as valuable members of society who have been dismissed and degraded by the left. It tells them they're important and have worth and are necessary for the future of the world just because of who they are.

Of course they're getting called pussies and cucks and are being bullied in that space, but they're also being told that if they perform a certain standard of masculinity they are the future of their nation/race/species/family/etc. The toxicity of that space isn't something that makes them question their value, or whether or not they're a good person, or if they have something to offer the world. It is something they endure to prove that they are a member of the in-group, and that they belong, and that they do have value and are a good person.

So, there are people dunking on that post because it does kind of read like "i was almost eaten up by the alt right because women weren't nice enough to me" and to an extent i think that it was ungracefully worded. But i also think that it's addressing something that a lot of people feel in a lot of political spaces.

I do not think that whatever the hell we consider "the mainstream left" in America is particularly welcoming to anybody. I think that it very superficially values diversity while not actually valuing people. I think that it says "You are important! And that's why I need you to donate three dollars to my campaign to prevent the Republicans from harming [your identity group]! I am asking for your help as a senator, a mother, and a person who wants to defeat my opponent in two to four years."

I think that what a lot of people are looking for is not acceptance or niceness but is a community and i'm not at all surprised that people feel like they're not getting that from democrats/the mainstream left/whatever.

I mean. My real response to this is:

I don't think that the *actual* issue is that men don't feel welcomed by "the left," I definitely don't think the issue is women being insufficiently nice to men, I think the issue is that all of us are little cogs in a capitalist machine and actually there's very little out there that is saying to anyone "you are worth more than your productivity."

And it turns out that people will put up with huge amounts of abuse if the abuser makes them feel like they belong. People getting sucked into the alt-right pipeline because it is "nice" to them are exactly analogous to people who get sucked into cults because the cult provides community and affirmation and a sense of belonging.

Anyway, I am once again and as always begging people to put together or join any kind of at-least monthly meetup based on your specific interests. Start a radio club. Start a quilting circle. Put together a free store at the park once a month. Literally join a drum circle. Participate in a community garden. Start a walking club with your neighbors. Go to events at the library on weekends.

As a side note: there absolutely are lefty spaces that function by making people feel worthless or feel like bad people. They tend to have high turnover, short lifespans, and explosive fallout. These are shitty spaces and if your participation in a space is primarily motivated by some combination of guilt and self-flagellation, you should leave that space.

[starrygazers]

in my streamer era?!

aka: modern au streamer characters and their life with you.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ felt like writing smth more lighthearted (once again procrastinating on my homework)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : modern au, fluff, crack

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei, Phainon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Phainon ➤ vlogs, irl streams

Phainon loves traveling and talking to people, which makes him the perfect irl streamer. he has a large following due to the fact that he's so polite and friendly to everyone, but somehow his streams always go wrong in the funniest, murphy's-law-esque way

he's streaming in a restaurant and reviewing the food and the next moment a waiter trips and spills a water jug right to his camera and lowers the video quality for the rest of the stream

or he'd be doing a grocery run and the things that he wants are all gone, and he has to ride the bus to the grocery store that's further away, and the bus would blow a tire in the middle of the highway so now he's hungry and stranded with no groceries

these somewhat harmless, silly and unexpected situation keeps his viewers entertained, and the fact that he's always so optimistic about it has viewers donating to his streams to cheer him up whenever something goes wrong

his mods are so protective of him that if anyone starts trolling they'd be banned in an instant

when he first met you, it was by chance, and you don't recognize him (he's a niche even on streaming sites; his fans gatekeep him because they don't want people trolling this nice boy)

he falls in love with you immediately, and it's so obvious by the way he talks about you on stream.

"chat, there's this person," he lays the camera down on the counter and starts unloading his groceries. "and they're so... like... I don't know how to say it. they're so pretty, but also so scary to talk to, but it's not because they're mean or anything, I think it's a me problem. do you guys ever feel like that about someone?"

of course, his chat teases him relentlessly about his newfound crush

once he finally has the guts to ask you out (someone sent him a super donation telling him to, and he feels bad not doing it), you say yes, and he's over the moon.

he introduces you to his chat, and even though you're a bit confused and new to all of this, your personality balances out with Phainon's so well that his community can't help but love you

he doesn't film all your dates; in fact, he rarely ever does. whenever you're on stream, it's because you're both spending time chilling or cooking or doing grocery runs together. he likes to keep a small portion of his life private, and he doesn't want you to feel like you're a tool for his moneymaking scheme.

overall, he's such a nice understanding boyfriend, and if having a camera around you is too much then he'll respect your space and schedule his streams around days that he'll spend alone so he can have you all to himself without any distractions.

Mydei ➤ fighting games, tourneys

you can't convince me this man isn't some sort of fighting game god, particularly tekken, mortal kombat, smash, or something in the likes

he'll spend hours just 1v1-ing randoms on the internet, and he's got his friend code public for anyone who wants to try to challenge him.

this obviously brings a lot of traction because there are a lot of tryhards who want to test if Mydei's the real deal (he is, and he does so while talking shit and not breaking a sweat)

fans enjoy his straightforward, no-bullshit commentary (roasts) while he destroys players with a straight face. it's almost comedic how such a stoic man could have such a petty personality, and chat always teases him for it, but he could not care less (whatever brings in the bag)

"Get out of here if you can't even jablock, man. All that big talk for you to not even take a stock from me is just embarrassing," he spits out. "You're so mean, he's trying his best, yeah, sure, chat. He should try his best recovering from the sauce I'm about to do to him."

he'll sometimes do irl streams when he's in tournaments. he'll do a hotel tour (begrudgingly, because he keeps getting donations forcing him to do it)

he's by no means funny because he tries to be. people just find his mean commentary and resting bitch face amusing, and he's also good looking, so he has a lot of fangirls

he's been in a relationship with you since before he started streaming. matter of fact, you were the one who suggested streaming (because if he's going to spend that many hours on something might as well try to make money from it)

you often walk in on him while he's in his man cave, and you'll stay a bit to chat with him or interact with the chat

if his fangirls are mean to you, they get banned immediately ("MODS!!!! GET THEM THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!")

he's very proud to call himself your boyfriend. Whenever someone tries to flirt with you in chat, he'll have a quip comeback of some sort about how they can try but you're in a very healthy, very secure relationship

he is unfortunately the type of streamer to have lots of tiktok edits to chase atlantic songs (iykyk)

but he'll only repost his fan edits shipping him and you <3

definitely the type of guy to wear an ugly "I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND" t-shirt out in public, he's just a nerd like that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[zeropro]

Hi, what are your thoughts on Megatron? Most Starscream fans don't have very positive ones about him lol, but everyone is different and I would like to know that you think

I like Megatron okay, he doesnt bother me but im not like jumping up and down for megatron content yknow? but I get not liking Megatron as a Starscream fan. It's just, you can't deny how intrinsically the two characters are tied together. Really can't have Starscream without Megatron, which is unfortunate for someone like me who does not like drawing Megatron lol!

Maybe the reason most Starscream fans dont like Megatron is because of their abusive relationship? And let's be clear, due to the power imbalance, I do interpret it as an abusive relationship. Despite how much we like to joke that Starscream deserves the punishment he gets (I'm not entirely sure how attempted murder/political assassination attempts factor into an abuse allegory) no one ACTUALLY deserves to be abused. The fact that Starscream is low key also evil and has done evil things is a separate issue from Megatron's abuse of him, we can hold him accountable for the one while also having sympathy because of the other. For me personally tho? Megatron abusing Starscream doesnt make me dislike the character at all, it's honestly the main draw of the dynamic for me. Maybe I just like to see my blorbos suffer…

The G1 Cartoon Megatron is probably the most fun, and I think this dynamic is the most on the level in terms of Starscream dishing back as much as Megatron gives him. They're all just bullies on the playground, their toxic back and forths feel a lot more slap stick and silly than actual abuse. What makes it work I think is that Megatron is not as crazy powerful as he is in later continuities, and Starscream responds to the abuse like a cartoon villain, immediately bouncing back and plotting his revenge, so it's funny rather than upsetting! I also find it hilarious how Megatron is weirdly nice to all the other Decepticons who aren't Starscream lmao? G1 Cartoon Megatron is a 10/10 for me.

If G1 cartoon's Megatron and Starscream are more on an even playing field, Prime Megatron is like the opposite of that. Prime Megatron is so impossibly powerful it almost feels like no one has a chance against him in a fight, and Prime Starscream is so scrunkly and small it's almost laughable. I think I feel the most pity for Prime Starscream when he gets beat up by Megatron, but he almost always makes up for it by being possibly the most evil of the Starscreams. I like how in the third season, he genuinely seems happy to finally dedicate himself fully to Megatron, but you just know how much he'd been beaten down and broken over and over again to even get to that point. Good for him for trying to get revenge in the sequel series. As for Megatron himself, I think more often than not when I am reading fics I see Prime Megatron in my head, and it's his voice I hear. What can I say, it was the first Transformers show I watched haha. Do I love how his redemption arc was handled? Not particularly, it sorta came out of nowhere, felt really rushed, and he just goes away anyway so we don't even get anything out of it. I like redemption arcs in general, but I don't necessarily think this particular Megatron needed one.

To be perfectly honest, I didn't think the 2005 IDW Megatron deserved one either, only because when it comes to over powered, unstoppable, irredeemably evil Megatrons, this one ranked right up there if we take into consideration everything he did before Dark Cybertron. His redemption does kinda come out of nowhere. But like, idk mang! It's also really fun? Like, Bumblebee carrying him around cuz his pants got blown off is hilarious! Him actually upset at Bumblebee's death and then taking Bumblebee's Autobot badge and putting it on over his own was sweet! Him dealing with the crazy crew of the Lost Light is a lot of fun! And him actually having to confronting and deal with what he's done (and other characters dealing with him dealing with it) is a lot more interesting than just him dying. idk. The comics have been around for years by that point, and passed through the hands of many writers, so if a little handwaving and a little contrivance and a little suspension of disbelief is what is required for us to have an honestly pretty fun take on Megatron, I think I'm okay with that.

I do have one complaint tho, mostly based on content I haven't read yet so take it with a grain of salt. I have been told that the adjacent series to the Lost Light Megatron stuff covers Starscream's side of the story and that it does actually address his abuse at the hands of Megatron. My problem is that apparently (and again I haven't read that far yet so this is just hearsay, but apparently) the writers on the Lost Light Megatron stuff didn't get the memo so while Megatron feels bad for and is working at redemption for all the evil war stuff he did to everyone, the one thing he doesnt regret is apparently his treatment of Starscream? Haha, like come on! on the one hand it's really disappointing to me because id like the catharsis of Megatron’s remorse, but...on the other hand, I guess it's kinda true to life actually. Your abusers are people, and they can change and grow and become better, but it doesnt mean they will ever become better for you. It doesnt mean they will ever apologize or even feel bad for what they did. Maybe theres something to be said about having to move on and heal without that. I guess whether this is a complaint I maintain will depend on how its handled.

I get that some people don't think Megatron should ever get a redemption arch, because he's an abuser, a monster, a tyrant, and an evil warlord, and it's completely fair for your stance to be that he should just be killed and that would be justice. I personally really like continuities that treat him more like just some guy. I think Starscream put it best in 2005 IDW during Megatron's trial when he said Megatron wasn't some political genius or the most gifted strategist. He wasn't even the most evil man. In IDW, Megatron started out as a social advocate from the lower class, and despite the problematic narrative of "the bad guy had a point and just did advocacy wrong/went too far," I think the idea that Megatron kinda got swept up by his own hype and was used by people and powers more devious than he is a compelling one.

Starscream is Starscream, so who knows how much of what he says is true and how much is him lying, but this idea just rings true to me. It humanizes him. If handled well, I'm honestly not opposed to stories redeeming Megatron. I'm also not opposed to stories treating him like the devil and just killing him lol. I love a character that can do both!

Uh uh, what else. Earthspark Megatron is nice, I like him. There's...a bit of cognitive dissonance in trying to reconcile the things he chastises Optimus Prime for and the idea that he still was a ruthless warlord at one point, both of which continue to be left unexplored. Transformers One Megatron is neat, I was worried going in how they would handle the switch from Orion Pax's brother to lets start a 4-6 million year war, but like, I like the way he actually was super okay with accepting his lot in life. Like obviously he didnt like it but he didnt see a point in fighting it, and that adamant complacency as a coping mechanism is what lead to his feelings of rage and betrayal by the end. Also I think its hilarious how much younger he is from all the other Decepticon high command, especially Starscream XD.

I don't think I've read or watched anything else with Megatron in it. Man, I wrote a lot. At the end of the day, Megatron is a good character, I like the role he plays in Transformers, I'm not like actually that interested in him on his own but more what he brings to the table when considering Starscream's character. You can't have one without the other! Do I ship them? No, not really, no more than any other ship. But I'll still read Megastar stuff cuz sometimes you just want to watch two people be toxic and make it hurt so good. I'll always prefer Trine stuff anyway ha! Have fun out there!

[siggiedraws]

What’s your thoughts on idw silver, I personally think he is ok but I feel like the idw comic didn’t really do very well with his character.

I can't say I like him... at all.

American Sonic media already has a history of needless and quite frankly terrible changes, whether made out of ignorance, xenophobia towards Sonic Team/SoJ, some vague, made-up sense of marketability, or all three. So, I'm already wary of media like that. They always change fundamental aspects of Sonic's appeal and are supremely unenjoyable to me as a result.

To stay on track here - why do I dislike IDW Silver? The main reason is that I think he's portrayed as way too polite and nice to people. He has no backbone. It's as if he was just based off of popular fanon or Archie comics, rather than the source material. I don't blame anyone for thinking Silver is some timid, polite sweetheart if fanon and IDW/Archie is all they have consumed, but I'm doing my best to dispel that notion for the sake of conquering misinformation. As a casual fan, it is understandable to have misconceptions, but I'm going to be much more harsh to official media.

I need to hammer home the fact that Silver is rude and often talks down to people. Sonic '06, Silver's debut game, showcases this very well. In an '06 cutscene, he talks down to Sonic after attacking him when his guard was down. The casual stride over to a wheezing, incapacitated Sonic kills me. The disrespect is fucking crazy.

In the level Flame Core, he acts haughty and superior about his abilities, even letting out a light chuckle at how pathetic the enemies are. And, a detail that is easy to miss, he doesn't even apologize for trying to kill Sonic.

That's not even mentioning the Rivals games being a wonderful source of Rude Silver™, where there are too many snide remarks to count.

IDW Silver is a telltale case of Silver's nuance being stripped so that he only represents one trait of his- that trait being "naivety." Silver's naivety is mentioned twice by Blaze in Sonic '06 because this is relevant to the story. Naivety is Silver's fatal flaw that leads to him being easily manipulated by Mephiles. However, his naivety isn't due to some innocent, childlike outlook on the world. Silver takes everyone at face value and always assumes people are telling the truth to him due to a lack of social skills. This is why, when Silver mentions something outlandish or unbelievable to people, he is confused why they don't believe him. This is shown in both Rivals 2 and the Sonic x Silver wallpaper cover story.

IDW seems to completely miss this nuance and conflates "naivety" with childlikeness and innocence. When you realize this, decisions put towards Silver's characterization in IDW makes a lot of sense - his hyperactive excitement and adulation over Whisper is a good example, but how he doesn't talk back to Sonic calling him "flatware" in Issue 8 particularly bothers me.

Realistically, Sonic would immediately get thrown into a wall if he said this to Silver.

Portrayals like IDW Silver are just so utterly confusing. How in the world does Silver get misconstrued this way, into something entirely opposite of what he is, in both fanon and official media? To be completely honest, it makes me frustrated. I want things to change and I feel like I have to speak up. I ended up writing an essay about Why Silver is Rude. I'm sorry anon.

[rye-bread-soda-iceberg]

I saw some light discourse going around hsrtwt about Ratio being bad/good/morally ambiguous

I'm not gonna comment on that too much cause I wanna talk about smth else but clearly he's a good person, probably one of the nicest people we meet compared to the war criminals and murderers. his major crime is that he's blunt, mean and makes his students cry (which is something about him I don't particularly enjoy for personal reasons, but still)

what I like, something that i feel like people tend to forget, is that he's very openly kind and caring

of course there's the basic stuff, like the fact that he pours his whole heart into making the universe a better place, has eradicated a whole illness called 'the king of illnesses' (so, supposedly, very deadly) and the entire not getting into the genius society because he cares about humanity too much. but also, you know

first of all, he has canonically made various statues depicting himself making a heart with his hands while smiling warmly. I've always found it endearing how he mildly prides himself on 'keeping the world at bay' and just being generally mean while also doing this so casually. I mean, it's a clear message: 'I love you' that's what he's saying, and he's saying it in a silly way

something a bit more hidden is these quotes from hoyolab's post. we all know the 'ignorance is an ailment' quote is directly taken from his character stories, making it canon. that subsequently makes the other two just as canon. obviously it's an official post, but I sometimes see people doubting the validity of these silly little snippets into the hsr universe

I don't particularly know if he is saying those last two quotes in general or to someone/a group of people in particular, but it's like... one of the sweetest (and corniest) things ever, and it makes me giggle a little bit. it almost felt out of character to me the first time I've seen these, but if you think about it, it's always been there

this one is from the valentines day ""event"" on twitter from earlier this year. I like his reaction to the gift for he still has some of his usual, you know, 'I cannot bear to hear such foolish questions'. he's being nice in his own way here, his demeanor is just barely reserved but the sentiment behind his words remains a positive one

another quick thing, though I don't have more examples for this one. he's always going on about how you should always consider whether the question you're about to ask already has an answer (so encouraging you to think for yourself) but he's still Always offering to help. in this and, if I remember correctly, in the mail description you get when you used to receive him for free he's making it clear that he's willing to help you discuss things for you to understand them better and will answer any question as long as it's not a 'stupid' one. he is a teacher, after all. the biggest thing about him is that he wants people to do better. other than this, despite his slight reluctance to help others himself, he does say in his character trailer that sometimes a little encouragement is required

and he does encourage people openly when they do good! no 'I suppose this is acceptable' nor 'I guess you did good'. when someone or something impresses him, he genuinely expresses it. I like to point this out because I see so many people say he's self absorbed or puts himself above others, when that is simply not true. which, I mean, can also be seen in his small little interactions with Herta, Ruan Mei and Screwllum (he literally praises them)

then he also says this a couple times. I don't exactly know what he considers courtesy or discourtesy, but it's clear that at least not all his blunt or mean words are meant to offend. this is something I'd love to look further into, but for now simply want to put here with the rest cause it's an interesting thing about him. he is already described as elegant, which implies a certain level of basic courtesy and politeness when interacting with others, though this just slightly crashes with his 'rude' demeanor

supposedly, you could make the argument that while he canonically realizes how non-endearing he can be (knows his own shortcomings, one of the exact traits he praises) perhaps he actively struggles with coming off as nice. and seeing all I've pointed out so far, maybe all those instances of him being nice are how he'd prefer to come off as (some times). that is unless I missed some bits of canon dialogue where it's implied otherwise

this isn't that detailed or well made of a post, nor the first time someone has pointed out this stuff. in fact I reblogged an incredibly good, lengthy post some time ago that talks more in depth about how nice/kind of a person Veritas Ratio really is

I simply cannot stand when he is described as cold, uncaring, selfish, self-centered or someone incapable of being gentle and loving. and it's not nearly as subtle as people seem to think it is

[satorurize]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃

Pt. 2 of Notice me! Senpai!

Plot: By now you should know he'll do just about anything to get your attention, even if it means being shitty at a job he's good at.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: divider by @cafekitsune , @rookthornesartistry beta by lovely @entirelysein-e | @pixelcafe-network

a/n; I know I'm ignoring my kinktober list..I know...

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚ cw. Minors. Do. Not. Enter. Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, 69, prone bone, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk gojo, gojo is a yearner, age gap (reader is 33, Satoru is 28), canon divergent (it's never gojover :⁠^⁠))

Word count: 2.8k

Gojo Satoru never thought that he’d be so gullible.

Gullible enough to let himself get dumped by you, not that you dumped him in actuality, in his head you were so much more than that one time you sent him a risqué text accidentally, which consequently led to a very eventful thing happening. Key word, sex.

He knew that had to do something to get your attention, which meant doing a terribly sloppy, messy job on a mission. The killing wasn't the part he would suck at, for very obvious reasons but he could unapologetically collapse a few evacuated buildings, spill the guts, bones and blood of the curses obscenely enough that it left a trace even for the non-sorcerers. The consequences would leave him in a lot of deep shit from the higher ups and principal Yaga.

“Satoru, the casualties in Kobe weren’t as much as we expected, but for the love of fucking god! Can you care enough to explain why you’ve NOT done a clean job?” The air pressure in the room seemed to be skyrocketing with principal Yaga’s blood pressure and the way veins on his forehead were perceptibly popping out, contrasted by Satoru’s smirk of unbothered cool detachment. You knew it was bad the moment principal Yaga didn't particularly care about cuss words effortlessly leaving his mouth.

“My job is to obliterate, I obliterate, maybe maid Ichiji is just not doing his job well” You furrowed your brows at the entitlement and smugness in his statement. Shrugging his shoulders with his hands raised up in a gesture of ‘I wonder’, all of this being way too unserious and unimportant to him. What the fuck was that?

Your presence wasn't technically needed here, but you were specially called for since the only person Satoru considered listening to was you. You stood adjacent to the poor, scrawny man currently hanging on a flimsy thread of his sanity, and the risk of the consequences that his senior was so casually posing for him. You watched the meek man deep his head down, that's when you knew you had to step in for your colleague.

“Gojo-kun, take this seriously. Calling Ichiji-san a maid is not very nice either, it's better to be considerate of people who take away the burden from you for a lot of things. A ‘thank you’ would be better than the..whatever way you're speaking.” The stern tone in your voice definitely took him aback, a strange tug taking over his chest, before he let out an uproarious guffaw, almost like he didn’t take what you said seriously. Ouch.

“Fiiine, I'll do it for you, Just for you.” He threw his hands up dramatically and it drew a wringing smile on your lips. Almost. Yaga on the other hand, was technically on the verge of snapping again at his response, but you saw the principal do EFT, making you sigh at how effortless Satoru was at everything, especially at annoying people.

"Well, thank you Ichiji, since my dear Senpai here is telling me to be polite” He hummed with a smile, a little hopeful after a bordered smile that he pulled from you, his beloved.

His fingers played with the seam of the silky fabric of his blindfold. You noticed. It was an action he often did whenever he was in the wrong about something, where he was thoughtful. It wasn't that he wanted to push the blame on Ichiji, he just wanted your attention, some sort of reaction after being ghosted so brutally after that day. The black haired man simply nodded, acknowledging the apology, darting his eyes at you with a glimmer of gratitude, for stepping up.

You knew he was meeting your eyes, though not visibly, through the restraint of his blindfold. This was not the reaction that he expected, his glossed bottom lip poking out in a pout at the non-verbal interaction between you and Ichiji. And oh how it made him feel bitter. “So did that make you happy, Senpai?” pettishly breathed out, the tonality in his voice was clipped, cold, annoyed and you just rolled your eyes, equally peeved. There was nothing poor about him, and he was getting way too comfortable even at work. But he thought he had that privilege, especially after being between your legs. Not that he understood the concept of personal space, ever.

“Forget it! No one can convince this block head, don't waste your energy. Get back to work everyone.” Yaga had evidently given up at the fact that Satoru wouldn't budge from his cockiness even after being scolded upon.

“See ya, old man” Satoru's statement was met with nothing but a door slam, followed by the presence of you and Ichiji leaving as well, no longer in the room.

He huffed, expecting him to give him an arm touch before you left and look at him with your sympathetic eyes before he'd press his lips against yours and source his energy from the suppleness of them. Fuck. He couldn't be nonchalant about you ignoring him, he was spiralling.

Something had to be done about this.

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

You being stern to him didn't really pay off well, Satoru took it too personally, so personally that he was now at your doorstep, his tall stature looming over you, his broad shoulders that were casting a shadow onto you, drenched from the rain pouring outside, almost looking like a wet dog. Your mind brimmed with questions, why wasn't his infinity on? You stepped away from the door, allowing him inside, a soft cringe taking over your features when you saw the splatters of water on your clean wooden floor. Not like he cared.

“Why weren't you carrying an umbrella?” You looked like a mother, who had her hands on either side of her waist, frustrated with her child who decided that playing around in mud was a good idea. That's what you looked like to Satoru. Cute.

He locked his eyes in yours with a snare gaze along with a playful smile settled on his lips. Not exactly in the mood for talking after your treatment towards him earlier. He grabbed your wrist with a firm, determined grip, making you stumble onto his lap, in a straddle with a soft thud. You lamented softly at the feeling of the wet fabric against your dry, warm and crisp ones.

“You're soiling my clothes, Satoru!” You grumbled further, slapping his chest, your hands quick to smooth away the new state of your clothes, as if it would help.

You swivelled your head on your neck upward, looking at him, and his face had an expression of arrogant confidence and no remorse, a smirk playing the corner of his mouth, cloudy hair plastered on his forehead as thick drops of water streamed down his pretty face in rivulets. He had no right to look this good.

“What? You can handle this much.. you've been awfully rude to me, Princess. Besides, I'm gonna get you drenched anyway.” To which your face loomed a rosy pink. He gave a raspy laugh at the end of the suggestive comment then leaned in, his breath on your cheek warm as he pressed a soft, tender kiss onto your shaded cheek, his hands now growing explorative with his touch, slipping underneath your cardigan.

“You know why I got wet in the rain?” He left the question in the air, a rhetoric as his nimble fingers unbuttoned the cardigan, his eyes half lidded, watching the wool slide down from your shoulders, edging below the lace of your bra. ‘Fuck’ he muttered, tracing his fingertips on the swell of your bosom, frantically leaning in to tether wet kisses from your collarbone to your cleavage, his large hands expanding to cup your clothed chest, circling his hands in soft fondles, earning a mewl from your lips.

His eyes snapped at your face at your reaction, face flushed and eagerly watching his each move. You wanted him. You wanted him!

“I did it to have your attention..even that stupid mission that I could've finished in seconds..did it for you, all for you..Senpai” Shaking his head as he confessed, his hands creeping down to grasp at the plush flesh of your thighs from below, picking you up to land the two of you in your bedroom. You were flattered to the depths of your heart but you just couldn't pinpoint or understand where this was coming from. It had only been 3 days since you both were together again after that night.

He slid off the long coat of his uniform, then his pants and boxers with a grunt as it clung to his skin. He moved on the bed, hovering on top of you, your eyes failing to dart away from his cock that was unbearably hard and prodding at your inner thigh.

“It's not like you don't have my attention—” you crooned, your voice to him like velvet, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. It was a voice that caressed his ears and soothed his soul, a sound that made him want to listen to you speak forever; the sweetness and undertone of sensuality. Something an adrenaline junkie like him could get addicted to but he cut you off, to make his point.

“It's not enough…it'll never be enough. I'll never not have enough of you” He spoke in a new found desperation in his voice, his fingers hauling the material of your slacks and panties, prying open your thighs, moaning at the sight of your inviting, sodded, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” He asked in confirmation and you shuddered at the coolness of his fingers that were tempered because of him being wet in the rain priorly.

You nodded your head frantically, your hand settled on his wrist to do something, while he teased your slit so painfully slow, at an agonising degree. “ ‘Toru..please, do something..” that pleading your voice was so satisfying, so affirmative to the light of the fact that you wanted him too. “Fuck.. baby, say it again..need you to say it again..” He pleaded, the azure of his eyes wild and crazed, a feral gleam in their depths that sent shivers down your spine.

“All for you..” That's it. Satoru flipped you over, manhandling you to settle yourself on top of him, now in front of his proud cock, while your ass was on his face, his eyes fixed on your drooling heat.

He dipped in, giving an experimental lap onto your folds, his eyes rolling back at your taste, your essence while his two fingers nudged at the stretchy, entrance muscle, slipping them in with ease, your back arching at the intrusion. His tongue drew circles onto your clit, delving to spread your already profanely exposed pussy with his free hand, smiling at how your nub was poking out, greedy for his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

His hand came down on the globe of your ass with a sharp, stinging smack, the impact making you gasp, a consecutive whine passing your lips when he stopped, your heartbeat in a thrumming beat when he stopped his ministrations and pulled away, giving you another smack, your walls fluttering even at the emptiness. “You're not facing my cock for nothing, suck on it. Make good use of your mouth other than, you know…defending another man.”

“You're full of yourself, you really are..”

Yet you obliged even as you felt vexed by his backhanded comment, your thumb moving up and down on the velvet skin, on his frenum, admiring the curve of his blessed inches before lewdly taking him in your mouth, moaning with your mouth clasped around him when he gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your pussy now bubbling with his spit as he ate you out so voraciously, grunting and whimpering on your core in need, in yearning. He felt a little asphyxiated at you sitting on his face, although the good kind.

The orgasm that coiled in your body finally snapped, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of your throat, his happy trail tickling against your chin, his fingers scissoring into you hard and fast, the gushy, squelching noise at the action resounded on the walls—your eyes rolling back at their sockets, his cock slipping out your mouth, red, angry but lustrous with your spit.

“Thaaat's it, fuck, cum on fingers and mouth..make a mess..” He cooed, increasing the rapidness of his fingers. The wave of tingling heat and pleasure washed over you, a wave that crested and broke as you cried out, body arching and writhing under his touch. He sighed, loudly drinking away your juices before detaching yourself from his face, moving your body to hover on you again.

He teased his fingers on your lips, letting your jaw fall slack as he pushed his fingers in. Your mouth immediately surrounded them, swirling your hot tongue to savour your taste, eyes looking in his, all perused. “Look at you, sucking on my fingers like a nasty little slut. You defended Ichiji earlier..gonna let him do this too? Huh? Tell me Senpai..” He mocked pulling out his fingers to let you speak—that led a gasp to erupt your throat. He was satisfied, seeing the glow on your cheeks, the glassed eyes. All for him.

“No Toru..all for you, just for you.. I'm yours” You cloy, tantalising the head of his cock on your slick folds, the environment in the room balmy and humid. That teasing came to a halt when he propelled himself into you with a full swarm. “You're mine, all mine..mine mine mine..no one's gonna..fuck your pussy like me, make you cum like me..no one, princess..”

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚

And he fucked you stupid, so primally, so animalistically. Losing count on how many times he pulled an orgasm after orgasm out of you. Now currently having his body overbearingly pressed on yours, his chest on your back, clammy with sweat, his forearms either side of your head, the way your hips were angled made you feel every inch, hitting at spot. He grunted, picking up his upper body away, hands placed on the small of your back that felt like a voltage.

He kneaded onto the flesh of your ass, prior to drawing both your wrists together, holding them down against your back as he plunged into you in a frenzy, harder and faster, nearing the edge. His own dick raw after cumming in you too many times during the night.

Satoru whimpered at the sight of you so ravenously stretched out his length, swallowing him in as he came again, completely milked dry and your body violently quivering. He chanted your name in soft cries as he pulled out, gently fisting himself and getting out every last drop on your twitching cunny.

He dropped his body onto you like it weighed nothing, ragging breaths leaving his lips and yours. He kissed the expanse of the back of your neck, playfully blowing a raspberry on your skin, making you giggle.

“You're a freak.” You turned around, allowing your manicured hairs to trail through his hair, enjoying the texture of his silky strands, as you brushed it back from his forehead. Your touch was gentle, almost reverent, fingers carded through the locks, massaging his scalp with a light pressure that made him hum in contentment.

“I'm your freak..” The giddy, smitten smile on his face makes your heart flutter. Damn it.

“Be my girlfriend..I can't take anymore of you not being mine anymore..” He saw the hesitation flicker across your face and it caught him off guard, the sorcerer felt something drop sickeningly in his stomach. Definitely his heart.

“...Let me think about it, okay?” He rolled his eyes before pinning your wrists above your head in bravado.

“You want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.” He smiled, self assured, seeing the heat crawl on your cheeks at his crude yet factual comment.

“You're blushing..” He pointed, leaning his head downward, fighting the idiotic grin that was slowly lacing his handsome face at your reaction. He hummed, nosing your nipple faintly, before giving it a quick lap.

“So..? Never saw anyone fall for your charm before?” You raise your brow and he snorts, giving a soft bite on the supple flesh of your nipple with a chuckle at your gasp, immediately soothing it with a lick. “Yeah I have seen someone not fall for it, it's you.”

“Well, it doesn't matter because tomorrow I'm telling everyone that you're my girlfriend, especially Ichiji” He proudly replied, pulling you to his chest, inhaling deeply to let your scent tickle his senses.

“You're not gonna lose on this are you?” your arm wrapped around his waist, signalling him that you weren't exactly opposed to the idea.

“Nope, I'm the strongest for a reason” He spoke in his ever unwavering swagger and you could only sigh, being a loser in his love.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A quiet neighborhood - Chapter 1

Pairing: Neighbor!Dave York x f!reader Words count: 5137 Rating: + 18, MDNI

Series Summary: In a quiet neighborhood where nothing exciting ever happens, your neighbor Dave is definitely a guy who catches your eye. What could he be hiding under his perfect exterior?

Chapter 1: We start to enter this neighborhood and the trouble begins 👀

Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush. smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, some reader's thoughts marked in italics and I think it's all for now. A/N: Here we are! I'm so nervous to post the first chapter of this story! I take it for granted now but: English is not my first language, I tried to proofread as best as I could so I hope there aren't too many mistakes. I don't have a beta, so it's all my fault, sorry. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist, thanks to anyone who reads, I really hope you like it 🥹

And of course let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are so much appreciated and they literally keep me going and try even harder! If you want to give me some advice, go ahead! ♥️

AQN - Masterlist

Your neighborhood is a quiet place. 

 White picket fences, well-kept gardens, plenty of block parties to attend, everyone knows each other and nothing ever happens. 

As a child, when you stayed at your grandmother's house who lived here, you didn't have the exact perception of how unusual and picturesque it was, like something out of a postcard.

It just made you feel safe and there were lots of kids to play with, so it was always that special place you hoped to live when you grew up. You lived a short distance away, with your parents, your grandmother would often pick you up after school and you would stay at her house until your parents got off work. You could say that you spent more time here than you did in your actual home. So when your grandmother died and left you this house, it was a natural choice for you to move here.

If you were asked who your most peculiar neighbor is, you would definitely answer Dave York. He is unlike any of the other men who live near you, messy, careless, jovial and chatty, peaceful men who are friendly with everyone. Dave is not like that, he is rather mysterious and reserved, to begin with. He is very affectionate and present with his daughters, of course, nice with his wife, but with strangers he limits himself to a politeness of circumstance, he speaks only as much as necessary, you have never understood whether it is due to shyness or a general aversion to people.

Dave is composed, precise, neat almost in a manic way in his appearance. 

He’s been living here for while, he moved here with his family a couple of years after you, and yet you've never figured out precisely what his job is, he told everyone he was a CEO for a company and no one felt compelled to investigate further, the neighborhood gossip preferred to focus on other, more juicy topics and so it remained a vague piece of information, which no one cares about. It certainly allows him to earn a lot of money considering the standard of living he leads.

It always takes you a while to wake up in the morning and you love to spend a few minutes on the porch sipping your coffee, you love that quiet moment before a hubbub of children being dropped off at school, cars pulling out of the driveway, the neighborhood waking up and getting back to life. Dave gets out particularly early so he ended up becoming part of your morning routine.

He doesn't even see you as he rushes out to go to work and you like it that way. 

He walks out of his perfect house, with a perfect garden, gets into his perfect car with his briefcase, perfectly shaved, combed, shirt and pants perfectly pressed, understated and elegant tie, shiny shoes on which not a speck of dust ever seems to have settled. You've always wondered what's underneath. 

He lives right across the street from you, so you can often see him from your window and you linger to look at him more than you'd like to admit.

You see him out early Sunday morning for a run, black sweatpants and white T-shirt, then mowing the lawn with his T-shirt slightly sweaty from running and his hair a little disheveled. 

At lunchtime you catch a glimpse of him sitting at the table in the living room, located in front of a large window with his family as Carol serves the Sunday meal. She, too, is similar in some ways. She is refined, never vulgar, has a lovely tone of voice, she’s kind and friendly to everyone, and bakes crazy desserts. She once brought you muffins to thank you for lending her a package of sugar she had forgotten to buy and they were the best you had ever tasted. And his daughters? Polite, respectful, always adorably dressed, little princesses of manners. But it is he, above all, who arouses your interest. He draws you inexplicably, for as long as you have lived here there has always been in you curiosity to find out if he has some flaw, if there is something that stirs him inside. 

And then, of course, he’s incredibly handsome, probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The first time you saw them at a block party you immediately noticed him, he stood out from all the others men. Black hair, aquiline nose, deep brown piercing eyes, plushy lips, broad shoulders, narrow waist, he wore a suit without looking either old-fashioned or snobbish, just gorgeous. You welcomed him, Carol and their kids to the neighborhood and then went back to your friends to sip margaritas and gossip. You couldn't take your eyes off him though; he was like a magnet that kept attracting your gaze.

There's nothing wrong with admiring someone from afar, is there? you tell yourself when you feel your cheeks warming up for him.

You always liked his confident but never cocky demeanor, his gestures are always measured and graceful, at parties when he talks to someone and is next to his wife he holds an arm around her waist never conveying a sense of possession but rather of protection and care. It bugs you to admit that this is exactly what you would like too.

_________________________

This morning you had to wake up earlier than usual, your boss called a meeting through an email you never wanted to receive, usually when he does it is to complain about something, which makes you want to stay in bed and call in sick. No time for Davewatching, you can't if you care about keeping your job and continuing to live in this nice neighborhood across the street from him.

You jumped into the shower grumbling, washing your hair in a hurry because you were obviously already late, and when you got out of the shower you discovered that your hair dryer was no longer working. Certainly not the best way to start the day. You cursed, fumbling in the bathroom cabinet drawer looking for a hair tie, tied your hair up in a high topknot, and sighed as you looked in the mirror to the image of a messed up you.

You couldn't do much about it, so you thought you'd put on your favorite office outfit to make yourself feel better, a dark gray skirt and jacket that you bought about a year ago. Money well spent, this suit hugs all the right spots on your body, making you feel elegant and professional, with a hint of sexiness. You feel confident. You pull it out of the closet and lay it on the bed, then look for a pair of tights to match. You rummage through your drawer and pull out at least five pairs, realizing they are all laddered. How on earth is that possible? Nothing is going right this morning. You huff, forcing yourself to wear hold-ups. Not your favorite thing to wear to work, they are certainly sexy but sitting 8 hours at your desk with silicone squeezing your thigh? No thanks. Yet this morning you have no choice.

You gather up your papers and stuff them into your bag, grab a cup of coffee adding a little milk foam that you quickly froth with a small electric milk frother, you drink it right away almost burning your tongue and then step out into your driveway heading for your car practically running, the heels you've been wearing clicking noisily on the pavement. 

You get into the car and start it, or at least try to, because it won't work. You bring a hand to your eyebrows, cursing again “Oh fuck! You gotta be kidding me!”. Your boss will have your head served on a silver platter this morning.

You get out and open the hood, to your lay eyes there seems to be nothing wrong, no smoke or other visible signs, so you think it's the battery.

You curse and get back in the car, searching your bag for your phone, your nerves are on edge when you hear light tapping on the window. You jump in your seat in fright, and when you turn around you see Dave on the other side. Great, you think. Just the situation I was hoping he'd see me in, stressed, messy, basically on the verge of tears.

You roll down the window and he asks: “You need help?” 

“Oh don't worry, I don't want to bother you, I can manage on my own,” you stammer, trying to pull yourself together. 

“The car won't start?” his voice is quite reassuring, aloof as it is.

“Yes but really, no problem, I'll call a uber.”

“Don’t be silly, let me give you a ride” you hear an amused undertone now, maybe because of your ridiculous face, you feel so inadequate and stupid in front of him, surely he thinks you're a train wreck and wants to do charity work by rescuing you as an abandoned kitten on the street corner.

You look down and see the lace of your stockings peeking out from the hem of your skirt that had ridden up too high when you sat in the car. You hastily pull down your skirt, wondering in a panic if he had noticed it too.

Your gaze reluctantly returns to him, feeling your cheeks heat up, and he seems unperturbed as he repeats, “Come on, if we don’t hurry we’ll both end up late.”

“Okay...” you whisper "well..thanks"

You get out of your car, finishing to adjust your skirt taking advantage of the fact that he has his back to you, as you awkwardly follow him across the street.

You get into his shiny expensive car almost in awe, smelling his car freshener, obviously something fancy because he’s too sophisticated to settle for something you can find at the drugstore for $2. 

It’s as clean as if it had never been used, the leather seat welcomes you, there is not a crumb or anything, this man has two little daughters and his car is immaculate.

You’ve never sat so stiff in your life, clutching your bag to your chest as if it would contaminate the car’s floor mat if you dared to put it down. 

He looks at you and urges “Seatbelt, please” and you hurry up to reply awkwardly “Oh. Yes. Of course.” and you see something shine in his eyes, a suppressed laugh, a tiny crack that disappears immediately.

You resign yourself to lay the bag at your feet and put the seat belt on, pulling it slowly, almost reverently, you feel his gaze on you and you are afraid of making another fool of yourself.

He starts the car and drives off, as you drive away from your neighborhood you try to calm down and regain control of yourself. He's just giving you a ride; there's no reason to be so jittery.

You give him directions to your office, trying to disguise your excitement as much as possible; usually you can get along just fine with anyone, but today you feel like a schoolgirl on her first experience.

You watch his profile surreptitiously as you tell him to turn right, and then left, lingering on his sculpted cheekbone, his long eyelashes, his perfectly drawn lips.

He’s so incredibly attractive your eyes almost can’t take it and so well dressed as usual, in a dark blue suit, light blue shirt and a burgundy tie with dark blue dots. 

You are almost there and a little bit sorry, you didn't feel like going to work already but now you want to sit in this car next to him until the end of the day.

When he asks you which building your office is, it takes you a few seconds too long to answer, “Oh, this one, on the right.” because you're so enthralled admiring his confidence behind the wheel.

Not only can he drive in gears, but his driving is safe, without wavering, and when he parks in front of your office you notice how he maneuvers with his open hand on the steering wheel. Sexy. You are impressed. You wonder if there is anything this man can't do.

You turn to him and whisper a thank you in a breathy voice. He looks at you and you feel his gorgeous brown eyes penetrate all the way into your soul as he replies, “Happy to help. Do you have someone who can drive you back?“

”Yes, thank you, I'll ask my coworker,” you lie, knowing that you will almost certainly have to take a bus or cab, but you don't want to give him any more trouble. 

“Okay, well, have a good day” 

“Thanks, you too”

Oh wait, there’s something…” he says, reaching your face with his hand and brushing dangerously close to your mouth with his thumb “here” He licks the tip of his finger and looks at you with his usual unflappable expression as you realize you have ridden in his car with milk foam at the corner of your mouth “you’re good now” he whispers and you would like to sink into the seat and disappear forever.

You get out of the car and walk toward the office entrance, feeling his eyes on your back, when you reach the door you turn and wave to him. He is still there, pulling up to the curb, and he gestures back to you. His car speeds away into city traffic a second later.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself before pushing open the door to your office and entering. 

_________________________

“Hey” you hear coming from above you as you are pulling with all your might at a plant that you don't even know where it came from and that is infesting your cyclamen flower bed. You look up and Dave is standing in front of you in your front garden, wearing the usual white T-shirt and black sweatpants he wears every Sunday for jogging. “Oh. Hi,” you say, passing the back of your hand over your forehead and then shielding your eyes from the sun to see him better. 

“So did you solve the car?” 

“Yes, thank you so much for your help” that feeling of being back in middle school when you had a crush on your classmate Josh comes alive again inside you. 

“Good. Was it the battery?” 

”That's right. I had to change it. 300 bucks! Fuck, I'll be damned.” You blather on without thinking that maybe you're not so close to each other to let yourself swear in front of him. 

Dave chuckles, even his laugh is polite and discreet but you can see a cheeky little light in his eyes along with a lovely dimple on his cheek that makes your face heated up.

"I know, they're expensive”

“Yeah, but what else could I do, I don't understand anything about cars, I’m better with plants” you chuckle trying to contain your nervousness.

“They are very beautiful,” he notes, moving his gaze from you to the cyclamens and then back to you, staring. He seems to want to say something more, his lips are half open out held, like everything about him.

“Thank you” There is a lull where you don't know what to say or what to do because he keeps looking at you with his big brown eyes that make you melt and then you ask the first thing that comes to mind "Um, are you and Carol coming to the Horowitz party next week?"

“I think so, she told me about it the other night. Will you be there?” you could almost tell you hear a hopeful tone in his voice, but you're brought back down to earth in an instant by your own inner voice. 

Stop doing this, he’s married you idiot. 

“Yes, of course.” you nod, smiling. 

He smiles back at you, “Well, I have to go now I'm glad you worked it out. If you need anything else however you can find me across the street.” 

You watch him walk away toward his home as you feel that something, at least in a very slight part, has changed between you. He is warmer, friendlier, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you enter the house to wash your hands. You feel like floating and when you look in the bathroom mirror you see it.

The most gigantic of smiles spread across your face, your eyes twinkling.

You are beyond redemption, a complete mess.

_________________________

“Carol loves that brand”

You are at the mall, standing in front of a storefront window that is too expensive for your pocket, gazing at a pair of black leather pumps.  You turn around and see him. Dazzling in a black turtleneck and gray pants, black belt and leather lace-ups, he looks like something out of a fashion magazine. You would almost find him irritating if it weren't for the fact that by now you have to admit to yourself, you have a terrible crush on him. 

Molly and Alice greet you with a smile echoing their father “yes, that's right, mommy loves them”

You smile at the girls “I can imagine. Your mom dresses so well, doesn't she?”  And they look at you proudly nodding “she does” 

“I want to be like her when I grow up” Alice adds in her little bird voice. 

“Oh that's so sweet, I'm sure your mom will be very proud, of both of you. ” you tell her gently. 

Dave is silent and smiles softly, watching his little princesses behave with you. “Well, we've gotta go, we're going to be late for the movie” he says right back, looking a little embarrassed but as usual you think your imagination is really flying awkwardly by now. 

“Oh, what are you going to see?” you ask, always looking at the girls to trick your mind. You don't have to think about him, he's a married man, what's wrong with you. 

“Daddy's taking us to see The Little Mermaid!” Molly announces to you with her eyes shining ‘that's my favorite!’ 

“The multiplex at this mall shows old animated movies in one of their theaters on Sunday afternoons,” Dave explains ”the girls love going there.”

"Oh wonderful!" you reply "well, have fun then"

They're about to leave when Dave turns around and tells you "you should buy them anyway" You stand for a moment interjected "the shoes, I mean. They would look good on you”.

You stand dumbfounded, feeling that tingle spread through your lower abdomen again. You don't reply, but you watch them walk off into the crowd, Molly and Alice each to one side of their dad shaking his hand, Dave in the center with his beautiful hair, his broad shoulders highlighted by his sweater, a delicious butt swaddled beautifully in his gray pants, as soon as they disappear around the corner you go into the store and buy shoes. Even if they are too expensive and if your credit card could talk it would ask you if you are completely crazy. This is the measure of how screwed you are. You can't wait to wear them to the Horowitz party. 

——————————

The Horowitz house is one of the most luxurious in the neighborhood; high ceilings, marble floors, expensive furniture all over the place, chandeliers and silverware, these people are filthy rich. You used to tutor their daughter, Gretchen, a snooty little princess who grew up in bamboozlement and thought she could boss you around. Somehow you managed to win her over eventually, and since you seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood who could tame her the right way, her parents paid you good money.

At the time you had just graduated and were trying to find a job so that money came in handy. 

You say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz and jump into the fray, it's packed everywhere, and your neighbors certainly aren't begging to take advantage of the lavish buffet served poolside.

You see Gretchen in the corner flirting with a waiter and smile, shaking your head, she’s only 18 and already so flirty and cheeky with boys, at her age you just felt like an awkward and inexperienced potato with no sense of fashion and no idea how to talk with boys, you're thankful that adolescence is long over for you. Two of your neighbors, Jane and Gabrielle, are gossiping about Edie's skimpy dress and the new boyfriend she brought to the party after divorcing her husband just two months ago. They wave at you and you sit with them on poolside loungers, they’re some of your dearest friends in the neighborhood. 

“Where are Rafael and Carlos?” you ask, looking for their husbands.

Gabrielle waves her hand and says, “over there talking football with Hank.”

You’re the only one of your friends left single, after breaking up with Jesse two years ago, you decided to focus on your career. You got a promotion last year, but still no husband in sight.

You suggest to go to the bar to have a drink and they both agree. 

There is soft music wafting around, classical, very elegant like the overall tone of the party. It looks more like a wedding reception than a block party, but you know that if the Horowitz don't make it big they're not happy. You approach the bar, a nice drink will solve your nervousness as you try not to stumble and end up in the pool because of your brand new high heels, clinging to Jane’s arm.

Of course she laughs at you “honey, those shoes are gorgeous but don’t you think they’re a bit impractical for a pool party?” 

“Hey! You were the one who told me I needed to freshen up my wardrobe and wear heels more often!” You reprimand as Jane and Gabi laugh.

You've been waiting to wear them at this party all week, even doing some tests at home to make sure they don't give you blisters. 

They're the highest heels you've ever owned and yes, they’re not comfortable, especially to walk on the grass and around a slippery surface like the poolside but tonight when you looked at yourself, swaddled in a little black dress and these shoes, you've never looked so pretty. Your bank account has been severely undermined but you think it was worth it. And even though it would be lo the last thing you should want, you can't wait for him to see you.

You put on your favorite underwear underneath,  just to have that extra boost of confidence. 

You feel good, just as good as you have felt in months, and all it took was for him to notice you. You should probably feel ridiculous, but because he took away the apathy you've been feeling lately, you decide you won't. Not this time. And when you see him walk into the garden, black slacks and white shirt, no tie, the last two buttons left open, he is breathtakingly handsome.

The only thing that matters is the instant when his eyes meet yours, and they are not cold and distant, but it is as if they are smiling, sparkling with a light you have never seen in them before. 

You've kept your wild fantasy at bay until now, but you're sure that in the midst of all these people he's been watching you. 

You feel proud and beautiful until you see her.

Of course Carol is by his side, holding his arm and smiling radiantly in her cream cocktail dress.

And suddenly it all comes crashing down on you, how could you not consider that she would be here, with him, his rightful wife. She wouldn't have been missed. Yet you were so busy trying to look the best you could that you buried her in the corner of your mind, just totally ignored her until this moment. You grab the martini you ordered and down it in one gulp. 

“Hey! Take it easy, honey!” Jane says to you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?” 

She’s never seen you drink like that, you’ve never actually drunk like that, maybe just after Jesse left you, but it didn’t last long anyway. You shrug and smile at her. “Oh come on, it’s a party! And I don’t have to drive.”

Rafael and Carlos come over to greet you and you're left alone for a moment while the four of them go to inspect the buffet.

You try to distract yourself engaging old Mrs Threadgoode in a conversation you don't care about about the hedge bordering your houses, but out of the corner of your eye you see them approaching, her always at his side, as they make the rounds of greetings. You even try to blend taking the old lady by the arm and continuing to babble as you move behind a huge vase next to the appetizer table, hoping they won't notice you until you hear Carol's pretty voice behind you. You turn around, thinking you are doomed, as if she can read your thoughts, but there is absolutely nothing in her gaze but courtesy and grace, as usual.

It makes you even more nervous that her husband has been your constant thought for two weeks and she does not suspect in the least. 

You greet her, trying to swallow your senseless resentment, but when you place your eyes on him you feel that tingle again, that warmth invading you from head to toe, while his gaze is as enveloping and sensual as it has ever been. “You look great,” he tells you, and Carol immediately echoes him, ”oh yes, you look so beautiful today!” You say thank you, chat for a couple more minutes, and then excuse yourself by saying you need to go to the restroom. The whole time you were standing in front of him he was just staring at you, his gaze went down to your ankles noticing your brand new shoes, and you can swear you saw his mouth bend into a smile, almost imperceptible.

You still feel stupid for wasting the whole afternoon dolling yourself up for a married man.

You cross the hallway to the bathroom and see Gretchen again, deep in conversation with the same waiter, she’s leaning against the wall, running a hand over his chest covered by a white shirt and giggling coquettishly. She looks up and sees you, “Hey there! How are you?”

“All good, hun, how are you?”you reply. 

“I’m great! We need to talk later!” she shrieks at your back as you hurry toward the restroom door. You lock yourself inside in an instant and lean your hands against the sink, sighing. What the hell had gotten into you, what did you think you were doing? 

You take a couple more deep breaths and try to downplay “okay, let's just calm down, there's nothing a couple more martinis can't fix” You look in the mirror and say to yourself “now you go out, enjoy the party with your friends, then you go home and forget about this whole thing. Enough of this crap” you whisper it in a low voice. You have just finished the sentence when you hear a knock at the door. “I'm done, just a second,” you say loudly.

You don't expect the voice you hear coming from the other side “It's Dave” 

You pull your ear to the door to make sure you get it right and ask “who?”

 “Dave. Open up” Your heart skips a beat and your hand trembles on the door knob as you are unsure what to do. “What do you want?“

”To talk. Come on, open up.” 

You don't understand what you should talk about, there is nothing to discuss, nothing happened “I'm going out now,” you mumble, check your makeup quickly and pull the handle determined to avoid  him and go back to the garden to find your friends.

You make to leave but Dave pushes you back inside the bathroom “Wait a minute” You are incredulous as you look at his enigmatic smile “What is it?” 

“You bought the shoes” You don't know what he is getting at “So what?” 

“I was right. They fit you well” He smiles at you and you feel a knot in your stomach 

‘Did you need to lock yourself in the bathroom to tell me that?’ you raise an eyebrow wryly. 

The situation is so absurd that you even pluck up the courage to answer him in kind. 

“Actually, no. But to do this...yes” He leans over you and encircles your face with one hand ‘You’re so damn perfect tonight’ he whispers, before placing his lips on yours. 

You open your eyes wide as if you've been hit by a gunshot, not expecting anything like this. 

His mouth is soft and inviting, his tongue moving lightly against your lips, and you let it in, savoring a warm and delicious whiff of whiskey, losing yourself in his flavor, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. Before you know it, he has pushed you against the marble walls, caging you into his body and continuing to lick into your mouth like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert, unleashing an unprecedented storm inside you. You moan into his mouth as your arms wrap around his back and your hips thrust against his in a silent but desperate plea for attention.

Your bodies blend perfectly, it feels like one of those wet dreams you keep having at night in the privacy of your room. Him naked on top of you covering your skin with kisses that descend over your breasts grazing your nipples and then over your belly to your pussy. Him pounding you senseless as you whine and scratch his back with your fingernails feeling so full of his cock. 

He suddenly pulls back and reality collapses on you again waking you up from the stupor you've fallen into. He smiles at you again “I just wanted to tell you this,” his hand caresses your neck, his eyes fix on your breasts accentuated by the cleavage of your dress just for a moment and as he arrived he disappears behind the door again going back to mingling among the people. 

He didn't even leave you time to talk, left you standing there like a fool, wondering what the hell it all means. What does he want from you? What is going to happen from now on? Your head is empty, you brush your lips still feeling his latent taste. If you were asked who is the most peculiar man in your neighborhood, you would surely say Dave York. You would also say that he is a total threat to your heart. 

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @syd-djarin @penascigarette @joelalorian @pedrostories @sunnytuliptime let me know if you want to be added or removed and I'll do it right away.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Healing together

Hii, I hope you enjoy this story. Before you begin reading, I want to make something very clear: in no way am I romanticizing mental health problems. I understand how serious these issues are, and my intention is not to glamorize or trivialize them in any way.

My goal with this story is to bring attention to mental health, to encourage understanding and empathy, and to show that these struggles are real and valid.

Lando is tired, tired of everyone being on his business, of dating rumours of him appearing every week, of comparing himself to his colleagues, or even when he is surrounded by people still feeling alone.

That's why his visits to his psychologist have risen these last months, but he feels better after them not only for the medical help he is receiving but because of them Lando feels as if he has found a source of happiness in the less expected place.

Lando walked out of his psychologist’s office, feeling a little lighter than when he’d walked in. The sessions had been tough lately, but he could feel them slowly chipping away at the heaviness weighing on him for so long. Today was no different. He had spoken about his fears, his frustrations, and the intense scrutiny he felt under the constant watch of the media and fans. His psychologist had listened intently, offering guidance and strategies to help him cope. It wasn't an immediate fix, but it helped. As he turned the corner in the narrow hallway leading to the building’s exit, he suddenly collided with someone, almost knocking them over.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, reaching out instinctively to steady the person he’d bumped into. His hands brushed against a woman's arm, and he quickly drew back, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” she replied with a soft smile, smoothing out the crease on her sweater. Lando noticed the sparkle in her eyes, the gentle way she carried herself. She was around his age, and there was something about her that made him pause. “I should have been paying more attention,” she continued, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks.

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Lando said, smiling back. He felt a strange flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just startled,” she laughed lightly. “I’m here for an appointment,” she added, nodding towards the door Lando had just exited.

Lando recognized her. She had been in the waiting room a few times when he arrived for his sessions. They had exchanged polite nods before, but they had never spoken. There was something about her that intrigued him—a quiet presence that seemed to draw him in, even in the brief moments they shared in passing.

“Same here. I mean, I was just here for one,” Lando responded, feeling a bit awkward but curious about her. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself, offering his hand with a friendly grin.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, shaking his hand.

Lando nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement in his chest. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/N."

From that day on, their encounters in the waiting room became a highlight of Lando's visits. They started talking more, sharing little bits about their lives. He learned that Y/N was an artist, her world filled with colours and canvases, while she learned about his passion for racing and his struggles with the spotlight. He found solace in their conversations, a break from the chaos of his life.

Between visits, Lando found himself thinking about Y/N more and more. Her laugh, her kindness, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved. She was different from anyone he had ever met, and he found himself looking forward to their brief moments together, the connection they shared growing stronger with each passing day.

One day, after a particularly challenging race weekend, Lando walked into the psychologist's office, his thoughts swirling with frustration and disappointment. But as soon as he saw Y/N sitting there, his mood lifted. She was sketching something in her notebook, her focus intense.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, sliding into the seat next to her.

Y/N looked up, her face brightening when she saw him. "Hey, Lando. How did the race go?"

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not great, honestly. But seeing you here makes it a bit better." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N blushed slightly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks. I'm glad I can help, even if it's just a little."

Over the next few weeks, Lando's feelings for Y/N grew. He admired her strength, her resilience, and the way she approached life with a quiet courage that inspired him. And as he got to know her better, he realized he wanted to be more than just a friend to her.

It was after a particularly good race that Lando finally decided to take a leap. He had won, and the high of victory was still coursing through his veins as he walked into the psychologist's office, hoping to see Y/N.

To his delight, she was there, sitting in her usual spot, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Hey, Lando! I heard about the race. Congratulations!" she said, her excitement genuine.

"Thanks, Y/N," Lando said, his heart racing as he gathered the courage to say what he'd been thinking about for weeks. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Y/N's smile faltered slightly, her eyes flickering with a hint of apprehension. "Oh? What is it?"

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. This was it—the moment he had been building up to ever since he first met her. "I was wondering… would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and for a long, agonizing moment, she was silent. Lando's stomach twisted, anxiety gnawing at him as he wondered if he had misread all the signs. Had he pushed too far, too fast?

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, I… I really like you, but…"

"But what?" he asked gently, his brow furrowing in concern. Her hesitation made his heart clench, his mind racing through every possible reason she might be pulling away.

Y/N looked down at her hands, her fingers nervously twisting together. Her eyes were shadowed with fear, a fear she had tried so hard to keep hidden. "I come here because… I'm scared of falling in love. I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to get my heart broken again. I… I didn’t expect to feel this way about anyone, especially not you."

Her confession hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of her past. Lando’s chest tightened, his heart aching for her. He could see how much it cost her to say those words, to admit to the pain that still lingered in her heart.

Lando reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers before he took her hand, holding it tenderly in his. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "I know how it feels to be scared, to worry that opening up will just lead to more hurt. But I promise you, I would never intentionally hurt you. If you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never feel that way again."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears she was trying so hard to hold back. There was a wariness in her gaze, a deep-seated fear of letting herself believe in the possibility of something good, something real. "You really mean that?"

"I do," Lando replied earnestly, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. "I like you a lot, Y/N. More than I thought possible. And I think we could be great together. But I don’t want to rush you or push you into anything you’re not ready for."

Y/N's breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She wanted to believe him, to trust in his words and in the warmth she felt whenever he was near. But the scars of her past were still fresh, the fear of falling only to be caught by nothing but empty air still too real. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself.

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat as she tried to find the courage to let herself take this leap. Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between the desire to protect herself and the yearning to let herself hope again. As she looked into Lando's eyes, she saw the sincerity there, the raw, unguarded emotion that he had laid bare for her.

And despite the fear, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to pull back, to protect herself, she felt a spark of something else—a small, fragile spark of courage. A tiny flame of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be something different. Something worth risking her heart for.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision. She squeezed his hand, holding on to him as if he were the lifeline she needed. "I'll give it a go. But please… be patient with me. I’m scared, Lando. Really scared."

Lando's face softened, his expression one of tender understanding. "I promise, Y/N. I’ll be here, every step of the way. We’ll take it slow, as slow as you need. One step at a time, okay?"

Y/N nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she let herself believe, just for a moment, that maybe she didn’t have to face her fears alone. "One step at a time."

And as they sat there, hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, they both felt a surge of something new—something that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. It wasn’t just about the promise of a date or the thrill of new romance; it was about finding comfort and courage in each other, about taking a chance on something that might just heal the wounds they both carried.

Together, they were ready to face whatever came next, one tentative, hopeful step at a time.

[xinganhao]

some notes on to all the boys i've loved before!svt (hyung and maknae) | 💌 est. release dates for special chapters -> feb. 13, thurs (hyung) & feb. 15, sat (maknae), gmt+8.

(1) in the smau, cheol is 'your best friend's brother', but it was originally supposed to be something else: 'your [older] brother's best friend'! i brought it up in conversation with someone (chugging-antiseptic-dye, i think) and was convinced to do a switcheroo at the last minute.

it's acknowledged in the first line of the letter ("this is the cliche of all cliches...") but something about cheol just slots into the trope all too well. i've seen people joke that he's a strong start, and i blame myself for squeezing the 'pretty girl' and 'gorgeous' pet names in one screenshot. lmao.

(2) jeonghan being an upperclassman at the school play was a call made by diamonddaze01, with respect to jeonghan having attended an acting institute for a short while. initially, the 'main lead' trope was supposed to be seokmin's— but i was convinced that jeonghan's acting background is way too underutilized in fic. [linking jeonghan's acting stint in KIGGEN(키겐) ((PHANTOM)(팬텀)) _ PLAYBACK(다시보기) for funsies!]

the little letter is so jeonghan as well, particularly "you didn't have to be so nice to us." i think it's very telling of hannie, to crack jokes and give words of encouragement even to the 'smallest' role in a production.

(3) i have zero shame in admitting that this trope came way too easily to me. guitar teacher!shua? sign me the fuck up. it's a blend of all his little passions— the guitar, other people, etc.— and so it was a bit of a no-brainer. couple that with his politeness over the letter and you have something that is just so shua-coded.

i have visions of fingers with embeddings of the strings, of shua's eyes crinkling in quiet laughs as he teaches you to play. it's all in the letter, and i'm just amused at the thought of MC being so distracted over her crush on shua that she didn't learn anything past the most basic song to play on guitar.

(4) nothing like a good rivals to ...? trope to get the blood pumping! i will be honest: if i had a say, my hyung line vote would go to junhui. the ending line in his letter ("wen junhui, if i didn't know any better— i'd say that you liked me a little bit, too") was my absolute favorite for the hyung ver.

this one has a healthy dose of emotional constipation/tsundere!jun/etc., although here is also a small confession: the trope was initially soonyoung's. i switched it out after staring a little too long at his exclusive fairytale photos.

(5) among the hyung line, this was the one i settled on last, if only because i had to pull that switch. this was prior to soonyoung admitting he knows how to get latte to stop kissing him ([sighs heavily]). i was thoroughly amused by MC falling for the owner of the pet she sits often.

i like the line "you care deeply for all loving things, big and small" in the letter, if only because i think it's characteristic of how soonyoung is as a person. latte is technically a plot device (lol) in this story, although i can just imagine how part-lovable/part-insufferable soonyoung would be as a client.

(6) this is not the first gamer!wonwoo trope you will see. it will not be the last. this was also a relatively easy trope to assign, although a expounds on it by referring to wonwoo as "the guy you meet/play with on the League of Legends forums." i make a passing LoL reference in the letter, because that's the foundation of the crush: the bespectacled guy on the other side of the screen who will beg and borrow for one more game with you.

i tend to make my gamer!wonwoo's a little more on the awkward/'loser' side, so the cockiness in the texts are certainly new. i didn't want to get too nsfw on the main (lmaooo) so the jab of "i didn't know you liked my fingers that much, though" is up to your imagination. (:

(7) in her reblog of the hyung post, heartepub says something to the extent of "i can imagine jihoon's fingers shaking as he types out 'if you want'" and it endeared me to no end, because of course. anicon-goer jihoon is another stroke of brilliance for a. in hindsight, i think it's just a little too niche to hit the right marks, but i wanted to do something that was characteristic to the members.

this almost became something akin to jihoon falling for a cosplayer/being a cosplayer himself; i don't think i had enough room to worldbuild that much, though. overall, this is adjacent to a more tsundere jihoon/a jihoon that reciprocates but cannot confess.

(8) on a technical end, i'd written mingyu's letter first buuut i rewrote it... and so i consider seokmin's the first that i really wrote for the maknae line. immediately, i was worried i'd be screwed and everybody would be able to tell that i am madly in love with this man. anyway. we ball.

for the maknae line, my vote admittedly goes to seok! one part i really enjoy is the parallels between "everything good about the summers… the hot days, the crackle of campfires, the chirping of cicadas" -> "you're the sun, seokmin. you're the fire; you're the song", which is really just MC's roundabout way of confessing that seokmin is everything good about her summers.

(9) it took several consultations with maplegyu to nail gyu's trope. she's eventually the one who came up with the prospect of him being that handsome constant on public transportation. the letter says a lot about mingyu's more caring attributes, and there's also a bit of a parallel to hannie's.

mingyu doesn't have to be nice, to be sweet, and yet he wants to. <- this was a concept i'd wanted to integrate in the texts, but since the texts come first, i didn't know how to make it seamless. the vague idea here is "is mingyu sweet to you because he likes you, or is he like that to everybody?"

(10) combining the two things i love (bookstores + minghao) is, unfortunately, a cheap shot on my end. bookstore cashier!minghao sliding in with a pickup line alluding letters to milena just had me shaking my head at myself, honestly.

i couldn't resist sliding in a small poetry reference. his letter ends with "xu minghao, you could sell me the world" -> which is a shameless allusion to maggie smith's good bones, namely the part where it goes "i am trying / to sell them the world. any decent realtor, / walking you through a real shithole, chirps on / about good bones."

(11) the idea of 'weekend warrior' seungkwan entails some backstory-telling, since i feel like it doesn't translate too well in text/letter: seungkwan is a guy you run into a lot at your weekend markets. the two of you exchanged numbers, mostly for convenience, to discuss produce and essentially find somebody to go with! for my fellow filipinos, the scene i have in mind is comparable to the salcedo saturday market hehe.

i've gotten a number of reactions to seungkwan's 'mrs. boo' quote, which, you know what? completely valid. MC x seungkwan bicker like an old couple, and the thought of a seungkwan on the flirtier end is just a little too good to pass up on.

(12) 'friend of a friend' vernon is a very specific trope wherein you find your acquaintance/etc. attractive and desirable. there's a joke constantly made that a crush is only a crush until you find out more about them, and i feel like that's the vibe of this particular verse. vernon is ~mysterious~ and [seemingly] unattainable, making him the guy of your dreams.

the letter is vague enough. the texts are a little more in character, in what (i hope 🤞) reads like actual textspeak you might expect from this Man.

(13) i do think it's worth clarifying that chan is not blood-related to MC; 'auntie's son' had a longer title ('the son of your mother's friend') that didn't quite roll off the tongue lol. this one has two lines i enjoyed writing ("i think i'm supposed to fall in love with you" + "i don't want to have you, because then i stand the chance of losing you"), and overall just slots right into the childhood friends to ...? trope.

i've grown quite fond of the more sunshine-y aspects of chan's personality, hence the excitability and sarcasm in the texts. it's a bit of a puppy love situation, admittedly, and it's a question of whether that's enough for something real.

thank you for receiving this little project so well! :") whenever i do annotations, i always say "this story is yours now"— but the choose-your-own adventureness of it all makes it all the more true.

see you all for the special chapter! xo linking one final time for those who want to cast votes/reread:

[felixbit]

meet cute

── flufftober day sixteen, masterlist tbd kim seungmin x gn!reader w. 0.4k

A late train commute was never particularly pleasant. Work had asked you to go far and booked you a last minute hotel. You decided to bite the bullet and get on a night train, planning on getting reimbursed later.

You'd packed up a large bag of things and arrived at the station, quietly loading onto the train with the rest of the nighttime residents. The seat you booked was pretty close by was nice enough and had a window view, so you couldn't be mad.

You especially couldn't be mad when the seat across from you was filled by a very attractive guy.

It usually wouldn't really register who was sitting across from you other than a few key words, but this guy was different. Jet black hair, beautiful eyes, and this smile he quickly hid under his sleeve when looking at his phone.

You would've taken your focus off him to get some rest, but you were just enchanted. He didn't have anything that made him stand out in a crowd, but his features were just perfectly made. Plainly put, he was hot.

Who were you not to shoot your shot? A few minutes after the train left the station, you saw him set his phone down and look out the window.

Clearing your throat had his attention shift over to you, and you gave him a polite smile. "Hey."

He looked suspicious for a minute before giving a small nod. "Hello."

"What's your story?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," You shrugged, "What has you on a train at this hour?"

"Ah," He nodded and leaned back a little, "Work. Can't escape it."

Your brows raised. "Crazy. Me too. Some sort of conference in the morning and their other person got sick.. so I'm the last minute replacement."

"Ah, that sucks," He smiled again and you almost felt faint, "My thing isn't until midday, but I thought I'd just get there early anyways and rip the band-aid off."

"I'm lucky, I'm getting accommodation for free at least. Plus, they paid for the transportation. Guess it's their way of saying 'sorry for doing this'."

He snickered. "I wish my work paid to take me places."

"Upside of having a start at nine in the morning, I guess," You nodded, "What's your name?"

"Kim Seungmin."

"Well met, Kim Seungmin," You looked out the window and gave him your name, "When we get to the city, maybe we could grab something to eat after work."

Seungmin's eyebrows raised. "Yeah, that could be nice. Would you like my number?"

"I'd love it."

[myfictionaldreams]

Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.

I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!

Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace

Words: 2.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.

It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”

As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.

And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.

From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.

The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.

Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.

“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.

You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.

“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.

Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.

Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.

Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.

The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.

Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.

“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.

You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.

The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”

“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.

He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.

“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.

“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.

With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.

You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.

“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.

“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.

This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.

Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.

“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.

Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.

The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.

Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.

Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.

Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.

Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.

“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.

However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.

“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.

With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.

With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.

Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.

“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.

“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.

The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.

You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.

Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.

As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.

“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.

Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.

Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'll protect you, princess au

masterlist

summary: you're the princess of the most important kingdom in the world. every illegal organisation in existence has it out for you, and after a particularly dangerous situation, that almost ended in your death, your parents have decided to give you a personal guard to protect you. what happens when this knight messes with every rule you've ever known?

pairing: knight Abby Anderson x princess reader

warnings: at one point it’s mentioned that being gay is forbidden (does that need a warning lol???) 

genre: fluff, forbidden love

words: 1634

a/n: I'm not even gonna pretend that I don't fantasise at night about me being a princess, and sneaking around with knight!Abby. could you even imagine?! Abby is literally a perfect knight. she's sweet and protective and strong and god I'm experiencing gay panic

I'm imagining this to be set in a more mediaeval world, like once upon a time :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your father had always been a cautious man. Being the most powerful Royal family in the world came with its risks, and after you almost got killed last year, he had assigned you with a personal guard. 

You were a bit sceptical at first, yet your father assured you she was the best trained person in the entire country. With her protecting you, nothing could happen. She was strong, and she was well trained to be able to tell whether people were sketchy or not from a mile away. 

You still weren't sure, but you were quick to change your mind when you finally met her.

She was insanely attractive. She looked super strong, but when she went to introduce herself to you, she had the sweetest smile you had ever seen. She was polite, and yet she looked like she could lift you up and throw you down a cliff. To say she didn't make you feel things would be a lie.

She had been by your side for a few months now, and you couldn't deny how nice it was to be able to go out into the world without having to worry about people harassing you.

Abby was always there, no matter what you did. 

Whether you went horse riding, or decided to have a little picnic by the lake, Abby would join you, and she would either keep you company, or stand at a safe distance. Whichever you preferred at the moment. 

Today was one of the days that you felt like going out for a ride. The weather was great, and after the heavy rainfall you had been experiencing for the past couple days, you were craving some nice spring sunshine. 

“Are you almost ready, milady?” Abby asked after knocking and opening your door.

“I'm nearly finished,” you replied, pulling your boots on and making your way towards the door. “Will Arthur be joining us today?” you asked Abby. You were oblivious to the face she made. You figured she simply did not like Arthur, but to Abby it was so much more than that. 

Arthur had been the guy your parents had been pushing you towards.

You were growing up, and it was time for you to try and find a husband. Arthur was a prince who came from your neighbouring kingdom. His family was rich, and his people were pleased. His family was well respected, and because of this fact, your parents were greatly interested in a union. You, however, made no effort to show interest in Arthur, and so, your parents had decided to invite him over to your kingdom, to hopefully create a spark between you two.

It was safe to say that Arthur was head over heels for you, but you could not say the same.

He was kind, sure, but he was too sure of himself. He was convinced that every girl in the kingdom was obsessed with him, and that he was the greatest prince that the kingdom had ever seen.

Every time he made a comment about his greatness, you tried to kindly explain to him that what he was saying was probably not true. However, Abby was less kind, and every time Arthur made a comment that insulted either you, or any other girl, she was quick to shut him up.

Arthur didn't like Abby, and Abby didn't like Arthur.

“I believe I heard him say he's not very fond of horseback riding, ma'am,” Abby explained, knowing full well that she never made an effort to ask him.

You let out a sigh of relief. “That's a shame,” you said, trying, and failing, to hide your satisfaction.

“Shall we go then?” you asked Abby, who nodded and stepped aside, allowing you to exit your room and walk ahead as you made your way to the stables. 

Abby walked behind you, exactly three steps, like she always did. She wasn't too close, neither was she too far. You liked it that way, unaware of the fact that Abby liked it just as much. She felt at ease, knowing she was the one protecting you.

When you arrived at the stables, your horses were already prepared. You thanked the stable boy and took the reins of your horse, waiting for Abby to copy your actions.

She did, and together you walked outside.

“Where should we go today, princess?” Abby asked, getting onto her own horse after you had gotten onto yours. You simply shrugged in reply, looking out into the forest.

“I'm not too certain. We could, perhaps, just ride around, and see where we end up?” you suggested, looking at Abby for approval. She smiled.

“Of course, princess. That is a wonderful idea.” 

After riding around for a few hours, you ended up at a beautiful lake. The sun reflected off the water beautifully, and the grass field around the lake was breathtaking. You stopped there, getting off of your horse and tying it to a tree. 

Abby copied your actions, tying her own horse to the tree before following you towards the water. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Abby asked while she gave your side a slight nudge. 

You sighed, looking over the water to take a moment to collect your thoughts. 

“What do you think about Arthur?” you then asked Abby, who sighed and looked away from you, thinking about how to say what she wanted to say, without sounding too rude. 

“I think his family is rich, and that he is the textbook definition of the perfect prince,” Abby said, turning back to look at you again. “Why do you ask?”

You sighed, turning to face Abby as well. 

“I don’t think I want to marry him, but I don’t want to disappoint my parents. They appear to really like Arthur, and he seems kind enough, but he’s so full of himself. Besides that, I just don’t…” you stopped yourself, nearly spilling your deepest secret. 

Abby quirked her eyebrow, looking at you with much interest now.

“You don’t… what?” she asked.

You sighed again, turning your head away from Abby. 

“I am not attracted to him,” you said, hoping to satisfy Abby with your answer. Of course, she knew that that wasn’t what you were going to say. 

“Not attracted to him, or to guys in general?” Abby subtly questioned, patiently waiting for your answer.

You gasped, turning to Abby like she had just spoken of the devil.

“Abby! How dare you suggest such a thing. You know that is forbidden,” you corrected her, to which Abby just smiled kindly at you.

“It is just us two here. I promise you that whatever you tell me, I shall not tell another soul,” Abby promised, reaching for your hand and rubbing circles at the back of it. 

You sighed softly, gathering your courage before speaking again.

“Do you think it is wrong? To be attracted to the same gender, I mean,” you asked Abby, looking at her with questioning eyes. Abby simply shook her head.

“I don’t. Do you?”

You sighed once more, before nodding slightly. 

“I am not certain. I cannot deny these feelings I have. But I cannot let it hinder me from becoming the queen my people need. One day, I will have to make an heir. I will become queen, and I will need to have children. That’s just the way it is,” you explained. 

Abby smiled at you. 

“You know, when you are the queen, you get to decide that. You could make new laws, that would state that the next heir, wouldn’t have to be your bloodline. You could give someone else a rightful claim to the throne,” Abby suggested, and after thinking about it for a little while, you turned to her, nodding.

“In that case, I do prefer girls. I wish I could tell the one that I like…” you confessed, and Abby smiled. 

“You’re secret is safe with me, princess. And if we’re being honest here, I do prefer girls as well,” Abby confessed, chuckling at the way you head whipped around. 

“You do?!” you asked in surprise, and Abby nodded. 

“In fact, there happens to be a girl I like as well,” Abby told you, smiling at the hint of disappointment that flashed over your face. 

“You know, I think she likes me too,” Abby then continued, waiting to see your reaction.

“Will you tell her? Will she accept it?” you asked Abby.

“That depends. May I kiss you, princess?” Abby then asked, placing her fingers under your chin to get you to face her. 

You’re cheeks flushed to a bright red, but yet you still nodded, biting you lip while staring into Abby’s eyes, waiting for her next move. 

Slowly, Abby leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. After she pulled away, she smiled sweetly at you.

“And? Do you think she’ll accept it?” Abby asked you, smiling when you nodded excitedly. 

“I think she’ll be delighted to know you like her,” you responded, giggling when Abby gave you a small kiss on your cheek.

“We should go back to the castle. Your parents will start wondering where you are,” Abby then said. You looked around, noticing that the sun had already started setting. Your dinner would be prepared soon, and you knew how much your parents disliked you being late for dinner. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to share a moment like this again…?” you asked Abby carefully after you walked towards your horse, mounting it.

“Don’t worry, princess. There will be plenty of moments like this,” Abby assured you, climbing onto her own horse and following the way home. 

Maybe you feelings weren’t that scandalous at all. Maybe Abby was right. Perhaps you could bend the rules, should you become queen soon…

(Wouldn’t it be cute to make a part 2, with queen reader and Abby who find Lev, and assign him as the next heir 🫣)

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[dapg-otmebytheballs]

See, when other fans in our spaces don't back us up, don't engage in dialogue with us about general racism and orientalism, treat our posts talking about our issues as something to politely avoid and wait till it's old news etc, the fandom gets emboldened about saying hateful shit to us, about saying racist shit to us, and a lot more. And that's a collective responsibility, because people are feeling emboldened in your communities to be mask off racist and hateful, and you're being a bystander

I won't hide the name, because this person has come into my inbox to be hateful, you wanna be hateful you get blasted, that's on you. But I sure as hell am I gonna post that fucking sticker a thousand times more now since clearly not enough of you have seen it. Since clearly too many people are still hoping they can stay quite and vague about it and be seen as neither controversial not problematic, nice safe space in the middle there. Well, I'm not feeling particularly safe in your spaces but hey, I like to look on the positive side of things, at least all this has shown me who my allies are and who are completely fine letting this behaviour carry on, which at least is safer than to be left guessing.

Be better for fuck's sake, if there's people in your community on your posts on your tags etc etc feeling comfortable enough saying racist shit and sending hate to poc fans over pointing out racist behaviours maybe you should consider that vague posts about the general spectre of "racism" aren't gonna cut it with the solidarity when you avoid us like the plague while we talk directly about racism in this community. You're showing your face, no matter how much you think you may be flying under the radar rn