#If anyone has any suggestions or anything you're interested in. I'm all ears

[celtrist]

Trying to figure out what the heck I would put on my Ko-fi without it feeling cheap.

Well, aside from smut I guess.

[astrophileous]

ZAHRA I DEMAND (request) A PART TWO OF JEALOUS REID I AM BEGGINGGGGG 🧎‍♀️😩🙏 I am actually in love with the way you write spencer like MY GAWD. MY GAWD.

your request (demand) shall be my command, your majesty 🙏

Warning(s): gn!reader, more jealous spencer bcs apparently it wasn't enough in the first one, a cheesy narration abt "change" 🤢🤢🤢 bcs why not.

This is part two for this blurb.

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

If there was one thing Spencer Reid always found peculiar about mankind, it would be the general lack of acceptance when it came to change.

Before today, Spencer never understood the science behind metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Unpredicted and terrifying as it was, change was necessary to keep the ubiquitous balance of the universe. Change existed in the smallest and biggest capacity of the world, and Spencer, for the life of him, had never been able to berate change for doing exactly what it was intended to do.

Until now.

As Spencer stood next to the copy machine just a few feet away from the kitchenette, eavesdropping a discussion he had no business injecting himself into, Spencer finally understood why many people in the world feared change. The noises coming from the machine in front of him were tumultuous, but Spencer craned his neck and ears to the best of his capabilities just so he could listen in better to the conversation.

"JJ," Spencer heard you say, "I'm telling you, I'm not interested."

"I haven't even told you anything about him yet!"

"Jennifer, it's not about the guy. I'm sure your friend is lovely, but I'm just... not looking for anything like that right now."

"C'mon, (Y/N)," JJ nearly whined. "Please, please, please, just think about this? How long has it been since you broke up with that Bran guy, anyway? You've been single for a while now, don't you think it's finally time for a change?"

Change.

The word tasted bitter as Spencer felt it burn all the way down his throat.

There was a beat of pause where Spencer's heart thundered inside its crate; reeling in suspense over what your answer was going to be. He heard your sigh before your voice arose once more, "Fine. Just text me his number and I'll handle the rest myself, okay?"

Spencer tuned everything out after that, safe for JJ's elated squeal that echoed nearly halfway through the bullpen.

The rest of the day unraveled like a tedious nightmare. After collecting his belongings, Spencer headed out of the bullpen with his car keys in hand. He was waiting for the elevator to arrive, internally cursing his decision for having driven to work that morning, when an unfamiliar voice suddenly appeared behind him.

"You're still here, Doctor?"

Spencer turned around to see you approaching from the direction of Penelope's office. The smile on your face reminded him of cotton candy: soft and sweet; just like the scent of your perfume as it engulfed Spencer's whole being.

"I thought you already left," Spencer muttered.

"No, I had things to take care of. How about you?"

"Yeah. Same."

The elevator arrived with a ding. You walked in after him and pressed the button for the lobby, your scent attacking Spencer's senses even more ruthlessly within the tiny metal box.

"You have any plans for the weekend, Doc?" you asked once the elevator started going down. "A hot date, perhaps?"

Spencer loathed the view of your cheeky smile, along with the teasing gesture of your eyebrows at the suggestion of him going on a date with another person. Here he was, propelling himself to the brink of insanity over the idea of you being on a date with anyone else but him, and you didn't even bat an eye at the prospect of Spencer being with someone else.

"No hot dates for me," he responded. The elevator opened with another ding. "Can't say the same about you, though, can I?"

Your inquisitive gaze slid his way.

"I heard you and JJ in the pantry." Spencer opened the lobby doors, allowing you to walk through before falling into step beside you again. "So, are you going?"

"On the date? I honestly don't know." The night breeze blew against your face. Spencer shuffled closer when he noticed your subtle shiver. "I haven't even texted him yet. I don't feel like it, to be honest. But JJ just seemed so excited about it, so the least I could do is try talking to him first, right?"

An interim silence settled between the two of you. Before long, Spencer spotted his Volvo being parked a few paces ahead. "This is me." Spencer gestured to the car.

"Nice ride." You smiled, humming appreciatively at the vehicle. "Well, I'll get going, then. See you Monday, Doc. Drive safe."

Spencer watched as you started to saunter away. A familiar flame had begun raging and licking up his spine since the moment you mentioned the phrase a hot date in Spencer's face, and now, he could feel that same flame taking a hold of the beating organ inside his chest.

"Don't do it."

You stopped in your tracks.

It took Spencer a few seconds to realize that the interruption had come from him.

"Don't text that guy."

You spun around fully to face him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't think you should go out with him."

You looked at Spencer strangely. "You don't even know the guy."

"I don't need to. I just—" Spencer's jaw hardened, "—I need you to swear to me. Please. Swear you won't go on the date."

Your forehead creased in confusion.

You knew what Spencer was saying didn't make sense, but what perplexed you even more were the words that came out of your mouth next, "Okay. I won't go on the date."

Spencer breathed out his relief as if you just granted him fresh air after years of being buried underground. He gripped his satchel tighter and fiddled with the strap, giving you a curt nod before he slipped inside the driver's seat of his car.

Spencer drove away after that, leaving you standing alone in the middle of Quantico's deserted parking lot as you stared feebly at the tire marks on the ground. A foreign fire had suddenly flickered inside your chest, and even if you didn't understand the significance of it yet, you knew that it must've had something to do with a specific genius profiler who just demanded you to back out of a date that hadn't even been planned yet.

After casting one last look towards his speeding Volvo in the distance, you turned around and headed for your own car, feeling the fire in your ribcage burn brighter with every single one of your steps.

[misssakuramochi]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR UKYO

Requested By: A Lovely Anonymous Requester

Request: "Hi, I hope you're having a great day! I was wondering if you could write headcanons for dating Ukyo from Dr. Stone? I'm starved for content. Sincerely, an Ukyo stan. 🌻"

Age Rating: N/A

Warnings: None

Genre: Romance

○ A cautious man in all things, Ukyo is the type to watch the waters before even testing them, all long before he ever makes the decision to jump in. As such, any relationship with him tends to be an extremely slow-burn. Even once he’s started to develop feelings for someone Ukyo is often the type to try to take a step back from his own infatuation and look at his interest in a more genuine light, wanting to make sure he thinks pursuing them is going to be a genuinely good idea with the potential to be fruitful before he falls too hard to recover.

○ Even once Ukyo has his mind set on someone he’s careful about the way he approaches them, flirtation often subtle as he tests out their reactions. Even though Ukyo knows his own feelings he’s not confident about theirs until they’ve told him directly - as such, he never pushes too hard, afraid that too much pressure might shatter whatever it is that they have going on. Much as Ukyo wants more, what he wants most is just to be able to keep them nearby; he’s not willing to sacrifice what they do have for what they could have.

○ Though his more direct, romantically-natured actions towards the person are seldom and subtle, it is still extremely obvious to anyone with at least ⅕ of their senses just how much Ukyo cares for the person he’s interested in. He doesn’t mean for it to be, but the way he reacts to things, and his more passive responses to things that involve the person he cares for make it pretty clear how he feels about them. As embarrassed as Ukyo is if anyone ever confronts him about it, he won’t end up lying to them. He’s not whatsoever in denial about the fact that he likes who he likes, nor is he ashamed to admit it. He’s just afraid of making them uncomfortable were they to find out.

○ Ukyo is, plainly, extremely anxious about the wellbeing of all of his friends. This is doubled (at least) when he develops feelings for someone, even before they’re officially in a relationship. Of course, he isn’t outspoken about this. He never wants to be controlling or let his feelings get in the way of progress. Still, more often than not he’s volunteering to go on missions with them to keep an ear for safety’s sake, suggesting safer routes for them to do things, or staying awake worried sick as he listens for their returning footsteps when they do go off without him. More than anything Ukyo just needs reassurance that they’re ok. He’s never controlling or possessive in terms of trying to prevent them from doing things, nor is he passive-aggressive in getting angry if they don’t follow his advice. Instead, he just wants to know they’re alright and unharmed - safe and alive.

○ So when I said slow-burn I actually did mean it very much. Like, if the person Ukyo has fallen for isn’t willing to make the first move and confess to him first, he probably actually just won’t say anything about it until some dire emergency makes him think he’s lost the chance. If they do confess first Ukyo is elated, honestly probably no matter how it happened; he’s excited and relieved that his feelings are shared and he can stop holding them back so much, and quick to assure them that he feels the same way (even though they probably already know.) If they don’t confess first it’s not until something happens that’s shocking enough to shake Ukyo into action that he moves. He needs to be forced into the realization that never being fully honest with them would be worse than rejection before he’s willing to accept it. If something makes him realize that, though, he doesn’t waste much time in telling them how he feels. It’s a little messy and he trips over some of what he had prepared to say, but he does his best to make the moment sweet - even if the setting is probably pretty relaxed.

○ Ukyo is actually pretty clingy as a partner. He isn’t overbearing in terms of requiring all of his partner’s time or attention, less so clingy in the sense of needing to constantly engage with them and more so clingy in the sense that he likes to know they’re around. Don’t get me wrong, Ukyo is usually extremely happy to spend his free time doing just about anything with his partner if it means spending time with them and he’s usually happy even just to sit with them while they do whatever it is they’re doing: usually, though, he’s satisfied just being able to hear the echoes of their voice and laughter from somewhere in the camp, knowing they’re around. Fortunately, his near super-hearing makes that pretty easy for him. That being said, his near constant ability to hear his partner makes it all the more uncomfortable for him whenever he can’t. Ukyo is quick to worry if he doesn’t know where his partner is and he can’t hear them around, and he can become uncomfortably lonely if they have to leave the village for an extended period of time without him.

○ Physical touch is this man’s primary love language. When he isn’t romantically involved with someone Ukyo is usually decently hands-off, and engages in next to no physical affection with others (obviously with occasional minor exceptions.) He isn’t touch-adverse in the least bit; however, he sees most physical affection as fairly intimate and prefers to share such things only with his partner - at least on his end. Though he needs to be sure his partner is alright with it before he becomes more physical with them, he eases into the closeness quickly and it isn’t long before Ukyo’s presence almost guarantees a hand on their leg or shoulder, a hug, or other form of affection - though he is much more reclusive when others are around. When they’re alone in private Ukyo is as tied to them as they’re comfortable with him being. Ukyo’s cute, snuggly side is something he only really shows to his partner, though - their little secret. When he rests his head in their lap while they play with his hair Ukyo feels more at peace than ever.

○ While he is very sweet and it’s never a secret that he adores his partner, Ukyo is still a very casual, laid-back partner. He’s always been more one for small, meaningful gestures and subtlety. As such, he isn’t the type of person to perform large, romantic gestures, and is never one to profess his love in any kind of dramatic or public setting. What Ukyo craves more than anything in a relationship is the safety of comfort. He prefers to spend much of his time with his partner doing things that are a bit more relaxed, escaping from the hectic nature of the world they live in.

○ Ukyo is at almost all times calm, collected, cautious, and thoughtful in his actions. He is also very seldom one to react on behalf of his partner if they don’t need him to intervene, often keeping any probing jealousy buried and reassuring himself with affection from them after the fact. It comes as a shock to most that Ukyo is extremely protective when the situation calls for it. It really isn’t until there’s some kind of perceived danger that Ukyo will act in any way other than distraction or de-escalation, but if someone dares threaten the person he loves, Ukyo is almost unrecognizable. He is terrified to death of them being hurt, even above his own sense of self-preservation. Threats made to his partner’s well-being are an extremely personal, unforgivable offence to Ukyo, and he reacts as such. He can actually be a little scary when he stops being nice. Of course, once the threat has passed he’s all worried hands and nervous questions to make sure his partner is alright.

○ Planning small surprises for his partner is one of Ukyo’s favourite things to do. He’s not the rose petals leading into a candle-lit bath type, but he does like to do nice things to make his partner happy or to take excess stress off of their shoulders. Often it’s things like surprising them when they get home with a finished plate of their favourite available meal, working with Senku to make them some sort of gift they’ve been missing from the modern world, or similar things that seem small, but mean a lot to his partner. If his partner is having a difficult time with something these efforts double down. Open as he is to talk if his partner initiates, Ukyo is more one to show his love and support by doing things to prove he’s there for them.

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for requesting, I hope you're having a good day too!

I don't know I have quite as strong a grasp on Ukyo's character as opposed to the others I've written just yet (I'm still watching season 3 lol) but he's still a cutie and it was fun writing for him, so hopefully I did this justice!

As always, thank everyone for reading, and safe travels out there!

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as their natal charts: vernon

sun in aquarius, moon in scorpio

this man is a deep thinker, who does not like to be under someone's control; creative and strong, he's genuinely nice but his reserved and a bit detached nature can make him look bad, he is someone who is sincerely happy with who he is and doesn't care what others think

'hansollie,' you whine in a baby voice, hiding your face on his chest.

'hm? what is it?' he asks, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. 'what happened?'

'everyone is staring,' you mumble quietly, too shy to look up. when he suggested to dance in the park and film it, you agreed because you liked this idea and because it's impossible to say no to his sparkling eyes. but at that time park was blisfully empty unlike now, when it's full of people, who are all very interested in you two.

'so what?' vernon whispers into your ear, tightening his grip. 'let them, sunshine. they are admiring, not judging, i promise.'

too scared to take a peek from his shoulder, you didn't say anything on this, letting hansol sway you two to the rhythm of the song. it's easy to forget about the rest of the world in his arms, hansol has this uncanny ability of making you feel invincible. he doesn't care what other people think of him and when you're together, this great ability transfers to you too. his hands caress your back softly and he plants small kiss on your cheek, whispering: 'if you are uncomfortable, love, then we can stop. just say a word.'

this makes you smile. hansol may not care about other people, but you, your thoughts, your feelings are his utmost priority. you finally look up from his chest, meeting his worried eyes dead on. there's deep etched frown between his eyebrows and you reach out to smooth it out, smiling at him. 'song is ending, let's finish it and then go home? besides,' you take a quick look at the crowd, 'everyone is looking at us like we're the cutest couple they've ever seen. we can't spoil their show.'

hansol laughs, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. 'well, to be honest, we are the cutest couple anyone has ever seen.' he presses your foreheads together, looking at you adoringly. 'all the cuteness is thanks to you, by the way.'

'you are right,' you giggle, forgetting about the crowd and anything else. who cares what they think and who needs them at all, when hansol is next to you, holding you close and looking at you like you are the reason sun is up?

this man contradicts himself: he needs to be loved and be 100% independent at the same time, he can get jealous but won't accept any doubt towards him. he will never be too emotional, which doesn't mean his love is fake; he's loyal and commited, but he needs space and his partner should understand that. he's very much 'best friends turned lovers' type, this arc fits him the most.

'give me some time, okay?' hansol asks, holding your hands in his.

it's not the first time he asks for this after a fight, but every single he does, you feel doubt creep into you - what if he won't come back? you quickly shake this thought off though, because you know him better than that. his need for space is understandable and you nod, trying to hide your sadness. 'of course. we are.. good, right?'

his lips are on yours in the next second and you kiss him back, savoring this moment of closeness. 'we are good,' he assures you sincerely. 'i just need some time away to think it over, okay?' at your nod, he leans in, kissing you once more. 'look at me, love. i'm not leaving, okay? i'd never do that to you.'

'i know,' you whisper, looking at him. you not doubting him is so, so important for him and you know it; you nod again, trying to smile. 'i trust you. take all the time you need.'

beautiful smile blooms on his face at this and he kisses both of your hands. 'i am yours,' he says seriously, looking in your eyes. 'just let me think it over, i don't want this kind of fight to ever happen again.'

he means it, you know he does. 'me too. i'm sorry.'

'i'm sorry too,' he holds you close. 'we'll work on this one, yeah?'

you look at the way his thumb gently draws circles on your wrist and nod. his intention to learn and get better will never cease to amaze you. 'yeah. we'll work on this one.'

a/n: on the list of 'mtl will analyze the fight and come back to talk it out' out of seventeen members, hansol is numero uno :') what do you guys think? - nini

my masterlist is here

tagging @prpldahy

[heavenhealy]

genre: smut, a bit of angst, porn with a bit of plot, professor!matty x grad student!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader, fem!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: As a final year graduate student, its not always easy to come across people outside of your department who care about your research. When the handsome new philosophy professor takes interest, it seems too good to be true. And when he expresses his interest in you, you can't comprehend how lucky you are.

warnings: this is mature content so please do not go below the cut if you're uncomfy or under the age of 18! specific warnings include: swearing, discussion of an age gap but not a huge one, public sex (in an office w a locked door but still), unprotected sex (literally just don't be like them), spanking, hair pulling, praise, degradation, dirty talk, stereotypical professor things, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), handjob (m receiving)

an: I had a dream about professor!Matty once so here we are. also as always be aware that this was not proof read so there will likely be typos at some points lol also I know the ending is lame but I'm sleepy and couldn't think of anything better

You click through the slides of your presentation: all 45 of them in the same dull academic black and white format. The graphs and charts you've spent hours creating and perfecting are the only splashes of color. It's another day in another empty classroom with no windows, the slate grey tables and ergonomic chairs devoid of any sign of life as you clear your throat up at the wooden podium.

For as many times as you'd rehearsed this presentation you still get nervous, stuttering over your introduction slide as you start the timer to track how long it takes.

Your voice sounds monotone even to your own ears as you zone out, eyes unfocused as you gesture at the table of data derived from your near year of research. You're so dissociated that you think maybe you're seeing things when you catch a glimpse of dark hair edging into the door frame. You frown but keep talking, explaining your research methods the way you advisor has suggested makes the most sense even though everyone who will be listening is within your department anyway.

When your eyes skirt back to the doorway, you know you aren't sleep deprived enough to be hallucinating an entire man, leaning against the frame of the door, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he scans your slide. You stutter over your words, stunned to see anyone there, let alone someone who seems so interested in your research.

"Uh, um, can I help you?" The mans eyes widen, snapping to your face, scanning you up and down quickly. You shamelessly do the same: skirting your eyes down the chunky knit sweater and loose fit trousers as you try to decipher the lines of the body they're hiding.

"Yeah, sorry, I just happened to be walking by-" the timber of his voice makes you shiver and you feel your heart flutter, spit becoming embarrassingly thick in your mouth.

"Anyway, this is really interesting, Miss..." he quirks an eyebrow as he waits for your name: and that's when it hits you. He must be a professor from another department, and a fairly new one at that.

"Y/N. Just Y/N. I'm not old enough to be a 'miss' yet." You feel your face heating as you speak and the mystery man inches further into the room so he's only a mere few feet away from you. It's still a respectable distance, but now you can see the streaks of gray running through the edges of his curls and you feel like your feet have been swept out from under you.

"Okay then, Y/N." He runs his tongue over the top row of his teeth and hums thoughtfully. "I'm Professor Matty Healy, I just started over in philosophy." He jabs his thumb over his shoulder and you nod, vaguely aware of where the building is. "And this is clearly out of my depth-" he gestures at the big screen, "I nearly failed my basic science courses. But this is really something."

You flush, not only at his attention but at the fact that he's complementing your research- that someone in a completely different department finds your work fascinating.

"O-oh, thanks, a lot of it is only good because of Professor Cannari, my advisor."

"I'll be sure to pass along my admiration to him, then." He stalls, hands rubbing down the fabric of his pants. "Well, I've got to go. Good luck practicing, Y/N." He salutes you as if he were in the army as he leaves and you can barely suppress the giggle until he leaves the room. Your heart swells, presentation suddenly forgotten as you scramble for your phone, scrambling to text your roommates about the sexy new philosophy professor.

----

The high from meeting Professor Healy had worn off by the next time you were set to meet with Professor Cannari. You had debated even canceling this meeting since you were up to your eyeballs in other course work and job applications; but the idea of the sweet elderly man and his bowl of candy waiting for you to show up made you cave. You trudge up to his office, the musty scent that permeates the building making your nostrils flare. Cannari is waiting, as he always is, behind his large desk. His old laptop whirs loudly but his boisterous voice booms over it as he welcomes you in.

"Ah, Y/N! I'm happy to see you!" You sit without being prompted. "Do you have anything specific you want to go over? Any issues with your presentation?" You shake your head, suddenly exhausted at the talk of your research again.

"Not really. I haven't changed anything since the last meeting, I've just been practicing the presentation." Professor Cannari nods, seemingly pleased by your work.

"Good. I do have something that I think will interest you," you cock an eyebrow, curious and a bit scared of what the old man could have cooked up. He clicks a few times on his laptop before squinting and leaning into the screen as if to assure he was looking at the correct thing.

"I've got an email from a Professor...Healy?" Your stomach bottoms out at the sound of his name. "Anywho, he tells me he saw you practicing your presentation and was very impressed," your advisor smiles to himself, "and he says that he'd like to offer you some philosophical theories that may help your presentation do better. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

You swallow hard, mind spinning as you try to decipher what was happening right now.

"Yeah, sure, but I don't know where his office is or-" Professor Cannari is already writing something down on a post it note in his scratchy hand writing. He hands you the neon green paper with Professor Healy's office number on it. Your advisor provides you a warm smile and waves you out of his office.

You hover in the hallway of the office, paper trembling in your hand. Do you go now? Do you go in a few days? Do you go at all? There's nothing inherently bad about going; in fact it will likely be super beneficial to your presentation as a whole. And is that not the whole point of going to grad school? Being able to gather information outside of your discipline to make your research stand out?

Dumbly, you look down at your outfit- a pair of well worn jeans, a simple black cropped tank top overlayed by a gray zip up hoodie. Fuck it. There's no point into deluding yourself into thinking this would be anything more than an office hours meeting. Your feet move before you can second guess yourself.

Before you know it you're crossing the threshold into the philosophy building, wandering dumbly until you find a stairwell to lead you up to the correct floor. You check the number obsessively once you're in the long, eerily empty hallway, and at the very end, wedged into an oddly shaped corner of the building is his office. You can tell he's new just from the lack of decorations on the door and bulletin board just outside of it. Simply just a name tag is displayed underneath the room number. You feel stupid for how fast your heart races as you knock.

It only now occurred to you that you didn't know his office hours, and it was possible he was teaching or not even on campus at all. You almost turn your back to leave as the realization hits you, but the door gently swings open. Professor Healy peeps through the crack in the door, seemingly afraid of what he would see on the other side. When he sees it's you his face softens and the door swings open wider.

"Y/N," he breathes your name and you shiver, eyes falling down to his chest, where the top two buttons of his silky button down shirt are undone. You swallow harshly and force what you hope is a comfortable smile.

"If you aren't busy...I heard you wanted to meet with me?" You try your best to curb the smile creeping onto your face as he gestures you in, hair falling around his face like a halo. His office is everything that you'd expected-even though he was newer to the job, his oak bookshelves are teeming with philosophy texts and a few plants half-dead in their pots. His desk takes center stage as it's surprisingly grand and tidy, the shiny wooden top reflecting the light from overhead in oblong circles. Only one notebook and one stack of what looks like exams exist neatly next to his desktop computer.

"Ah," he clears his throat when he sees you staring, "feel free to sit, I'm afraid it's not the most comfortable chair but the one I want is on backorder." You sit anyway, charmed just by the easy drawl of his voice. He takes his place directly across from you in a cushy, high-backed chair that genuinely looks fit for royalty. Your stomach stirs with arousal when he shakes his curls from his eyes and leans forward, elbows on the desk.

"Can I ask you something?" You shiver, involuntarily shaken by his question. He doesn't wait for you to respond before continuing: "Why do you seem so disinterested in your research?"

You're stunned at how forward he is but a piece of you loosens, suddenly relaxed when you realize the academic front you put up in front of everyone else can be dissolved here.

"I'm just tired of it," you slouch into your chair, matching his soulful gaze. "I've spent the last 5 years of my life researching and refining this presentation and all I ever do is present to people within my field who already know all of this shit, or even are cited in my paper anyway, and it's just so exhausting to say and think all the same things over and over. And what do I get out of this other than a job?" You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly self conscious at how forthcoming and unprofessional you're being with a professor.

"Sorry, that was a lot. And you clearly liked my stuff enough to contact Cannari and ask to meet with me, so, sorry Professor Healy." You shrug and offer him what you hope will be a soothing smile. He doesn't retreat from his spot but actually leans further toward you and only then do you realize that you had leaned closer to him as well. "You can just call me Matty, please." He offers a sweet smile that makes you agree, and the amount of familiarity just being told to use his first name gives you makes you giddy.

"What..." he swallows, "What do you want? From your life?" You catch a whiff of his cologne with him this close and you can do nothing but scan his face stupidly: eyes flitting between his plush lips and his eyes. Arousal stirs in your stomach the more you stare at him, and you force yourself to look away before you melt into the chair. You start to piece something together in your mind when Professor Healy shakes his head, inhaling sharply.

"It's okay if you don't know, Y/N. I don't know what I want from my life either, even though I have the big fancy job.” He stops, fingers drumming against the top of his desk, just inches away from your body. "But I know what I want right now."

Your stomach lurches with sudden nerves and you’re sure that your face is flushed red as you watch the mesmerizing way his tongue darts across his lower lip, wetting the pink flesh. Surely letting your mind run away to all the nasty places it wants to is going to do nothing to soothe the heat but you can’t find it in you to stop.

“Y/N?” Matty’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain like a knife. Sheepishly you glance back at him and just seems so large that your reply dies in your throat, mouth hung open.

“I asked you a question. Cat got your tongue?” He smiles slyly as he glances down to your mouth and you feel an unbidden rush of arousal in your stomach.

“S-sorry Professor Healy, I- just. Um." His steely gaze cuts you as you slowly realize your mistake. "Matty. What do you want right now? I’m not sure how much help I can actually be, but I can-“

“What I want right now-“ he speaks over you and you still, fingernails digging into the leather arms of your chair. “Is for you to look at me.” He pauses and you realize he means for you to obey him now, so you do. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own, his intense gaze flicking between your pupils and your lips. Satisfied, he speaks again. “Good. And now I need you to be fully, completely honest with me. I’ll know if you aren’t.” You nod automatically, all thoughts except how purely sexy he looks right now abandoning your brain. A smile splits his face and a surge of joy at making him happy runs through you.

“Are you aware how badly I want you?” His voice thickens and you shiver, the confusion and elation rushing in. There was no way this was real, there had to be someone testing you or playing a trick to expose your most depraved desire.

“You do?” You hate how surprised you sound but who could blame you: the new professor with his bouncy curls and tattooed chest interested in both your research and also apparently you?

Suddenly he’s moving, standing from his grand chair to lean against the desk on your side, just inches from you. He cocks his head and that deadly stare penetrates you as he shamelessly looks you up and down, eyes focused just a second too long on the place where your breasts swell out of your tank top.

“I do.” He nods as if he’d just agreed with your assessment of a news topic, but the way his hands flex on the top of his thighs draws your eyes right to his crotch: the telling bulge of the beginning of a hard on just there. All inhibitions rush out of you at the sight, you calm the shake in your hands and grasp at his own, resting just inches away from his cock.

“Is the door locked?” Your voice is husky but he seems to appreciate it as a breathy exhale passes his lips while he nods. The noise sparks arousal between your thighs, the seam of your jeans teasing your clit just enough to make your head spin a bit when your thighs press together. You stay locked into your chair, sincerely afraid that if you stood your knees would give out, but you trail your fingers up to the waistband of his trousers.

“Is this okay?” His pretty curls crowd around his face as he peers down at you and nods, moving his own hands out of the way to allow you all the room you want. You ignore the way your fingers tremble with the button and unhook it, the sound of the zipper startling in the otherwise silent room.

His cock is straining against his boxers and you can't help the pride that washes over your body.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous." His voice grits out as you trace your fingers over the outline of his cock, enamored by the heat radiating from his body. His hips jump, pressing further into your touch with impatience.

"Fucking take 'em off." Your eyes flit up to his face, scrunched with concentration as he undoes the buttons on his shirt until it's completely open, torso bared to your hungry eyes. All of his hidden tattoos come to light and you feel yourself salivate. He gives you a pointed look and you spring into action, pulling his boxers down to his thighs. Your breath leaves you as his cock is bared to you, hardening by the second as you take in the sight of him.

"You're fucking huge," the words fall out of your mouth before you can even think about filtering them, but all he does is laugh, smoothing a hand over the crown of your head.

"And you're fucking sinful." The praise goes straight to your head as you cup his cock, immediately tracing the vein along the bottom with your fingertip. The urge to have him in your mouth is insane but you stick with what you've started: the feather light touches across the smoothed, warm skin in addicting patterns until Matty snaps, grasping your wrist.

"I'm glad you're having fun, love, but if you don't start getting to work I'm gonna have to do it myself. And I don't think either of us want that, do we?" Your face blanches at the idea of him leaving, and you shake your head, redoubling your efforts by adding your second hand into the mix. Stroking his cock quickly becomes addicting, as all of his pretty moans and whines bounce off of the walls in his office and you can gaze up at him despite the hand in your hair to see the way his neck flexes as you pleasure him. His cock twitches and swells in your hand and a fresh wave of arousal sticks to your underwear, making you drive a hand between your legs in a desperate attempt for some relief. Matty's hand in your hair tightens as he sees you make this move and he tuts.

"Off of it, now, pretty girl." Matty's voice shakes as he extracts himself from your touch. You whine at the loss of his cock but soon your line of sight is full of his handsome face. Matty has crouched right in front of you, lips bitten raw from his efforts of trying not to cum. You feel your eyes soften at how pretty he looks with rosy cheeks and you lean forward on pure instinct, seeking the press of his lips on your own. Matty catches on easily and matches your eagerness by capturing your lips ferociously; tasting faintly like minty gum and coffee and you moan at this fantasy come to life. You cling to his bare shoulders like your life depends on it, fingernails digging into the planes of his back as he licks between your lips, tongue dancing around your mouth as he steals your breath.

Matty nips at your bottom lip, and then one of his hands is diving between your thighs to press up against the heat at the seam of your jeans. You gasp out a moan at the feeling of finally being touched even if through the thick barrier of denim.

"Fucking soaking your jeans, love," Matty growls against your lips, his dextrous thumb pressed directly over your clit. You squirm in the chair, chest heaving as your nerve endings light up, feeling so hot that you could crawl out of your skin.

"F-fuck, Matty." You take matters into your own hands and strip yourself of your sweatshirt. He chuckles darkly, eyes darting up from between your legs as he licks his lips sinfully.

"Feeling a little hot there? Should I take these jeans off of you and help you cool down?" His fingers are already at the button but you keen and agree with a vicious nod. The brief touch of his fingers against your stomach makes you whimper, impatient beyond belief for him to rid you of the restrictive denim.

"I've got you, don't worry, 'm right here." Matty soothes you as he shimmies your jeans off. He places a gentle kiss against the inside of one knee, then the other, and you feel anticipation bubble in your stomach as he digs his thumbs into the flesh of your thighs, dragging them apart. His eyes widen at the visible confirmation of your wetness slicking your underwear in a dark stain.

"Please," you find yourself begging already even though Matty shows no sign of slowing down as he rids you of your underwear as well. Already kneeling, Matty simply leans forward until he's mere inches away from your pussy. The ends of his strands of hair tickle the tops of your thighs and goosebumps erupt. Matty parts your thighs until your knees are hooked over the arms of the chair and you remain fully exposed to him.

"Look at that..." his fingers trail your inner thighs and your body twitches. "Prettiest pussy on the prettiest little slut I've ever seen." He eyes you carefully to catch your reaction to the nickname and you feel your whole body glow at the filthy words. Matty grins before swiftly returning his thumb to your clit, this time bare. The shock of his sudden touch sends you spiraling toward pleasure, mind blanking of all coherent thought as he draws tight circles around the bud. You grasp onto his hair for an anchor as he doubles down, pushing his face between your thighs. His nose bumps against your clit and his tongue parts your lips, lapping up the wetness with a pattern you can't figure out how to track. His stubble scratches the inside of your thighs as he laps at you, flitting his tongue between your folds. Your hips buck forward and your legs clamp around his head, desperate to be sure that he wouldn't go anywhere. Matty chuckles against your pussy and you can feel it radiating through you. You shiver, stomach contracting as you pull his hair so hard you feel like you might take some of it out.

An oncoming train of pleasure barrels towards you as Matty returns his lips to your clit, sucking ferverntly until you cry, warning him that you're coming. Your mind soars as you come, surely soaking his face as he makes no attempt to slow down or pull back as your hips stutter against his face.

Tears collect at your chin as your body settles, overwhelmed and satisfied. Matty resurfaces, chin and lips soaked with the sheen of your release. He licks his lips as he sees you refocus onto the real world. Matty helps to ease your legs down from the arms of the chair and the simple intimacy makes you dizzy with glee.

"You taste so good, by the way," Matty drones as his eyes sparkle with mischief. He stands, cock bobbing along with his movements and your pussy throbs in spite of the fact that you literally just came moments before. You can't tear your eyes away from it, the reddened head leaking translucent rivulets of precum. Images of his cock pulsing while he ate you out invade your mind and you whine, launching yourself off of the chair with the need to be closer to him.

Matty chuckles as you latch yourself around him, pressing your body into the heat of him, feeling the press of his cock against your stomach. Your forehead sticks to his chest with the perspiration and you're slightly surprised that Matty places a kiss to the top of your head, crossing his arms around you and massaging your lower back in big soothing circles.

"Are you done for the day? All worn out?" His voice is soft and gentle despite the way his cock stirs as his hands drift to your ass, gently massaging the flesh there.

"You're too sweet," you lift your head until your chin is resting on his chest, looking up at his flushed face. The softness of his eyes makes your insides liquify. "Thought you'd be some big, scary, dominant professor..." you distract him with your words as you slip a hand between the two of you to brush the head of his cock. Matty groans, squeezing your ass harder at the confirmation that you certainly were not done for the day.

"Well I am quite big, as you said before, and as far as scary and dominant..." a sly grin splits his face and before you can deliver a new quip he's maneuvering you until you're bent over the glossy top of his massive desk. It's cold even through the fabric of your cropped tank top that you still had on, and your nipples pebble immediately. You can't see Matty so you still and try to focus your ears to hear any signs of what he was up to.

Matty's fingers ghost over your ass again, tracing over the curve that connects it to your thighs. Shivers wrack down your spine as you anticipate his next touch.

"You'd like me to be more dominant? Harder on you?" Matty's voice ghosts over the shell of your ear and you whine, hips squirming as you feel him pressed up against your back. "Need to be put in your place by a fucking professor at your school?" You nod vigorously, arousal making you pliant to his whispers.

His body heat leaves you and you whine, begging for him not to go.

"Fuck, needy little slut, huh? I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. Can't quit this pussy and I haven't even been in it." His voice has thickened even more than you thought possible and its enough to make you spread your legs, exposing your pussy to the cold air and his hungry eyes.

You're going crazy not being able to see him, so you lift your head and turn toward him. His face tightens when he sees you, and with no reluctance he rears back his hand and smacks one of your ass cheeks. The shock makes you still and silent, followed quickly by a body wide tingle of arousal that has a long loud moan falling from your lips.

"I didn't fucking ask you to move, did I? All you've got to do is lay there and take it and you can't even do that." He tuts but at the same time soothes the pads of his calloused fingers over the handprint he left behind.

"S-sorry, I just wanted to see you." The words come out choppy and stunted as you feel his hand leave you, anticipating another slap.

"Take this like a good girl and then you can see me all you want, okay?" Just moments after your agreement slips into the air Matty is landing twin spanks on each cheek, harder than the first. Your body reacts astronomically, your body heat soaring as you wiggle against the desk, surely leaking onto the pristine wood.

Matty praises you even as you wiggle, admiring the movement of your ass while you try to chase the friction you're looking for. Your legs spread wider as you hear him mutter curses under his breath.

"Please, Matty, please-Ineedyouttodomore, please," you feel like your brain is running away from you, maybe it was back in the entrance to the philosophy building, waiting for you to pick it back up when you're done. Emboldened by your begging, Matty spanks each of your cheeks again in a new spot, sure to cover your whole ass in his hand prints.

Matty shushes you, petting over the surely reddened marks on your ass-your newest and most prized possessions. "You've done so lovely for me, enjoying letting me spank your cute little ass." Matty sounds slightly farther away but you pay it no mind as your body goes onto pleasure autopilot. Your clit throbs, eyes glassy and unfocused as you listen to the whispered affirmations falling from Matty's lips.

"Hey, pretty girl." His voice is suddenly very close, and you finally realize that he's rounded the desk to be next to your head. He's crouched down to your level again, one hand pushing sweaty strands of hair away from your temple. You feel lucky just to be seeing his face this close.

"There you are." He smiles and the skin around his eyes crinkles charmingly. His demeanor shifts back rapidly when he sees your clarity come back. "Need you to listen to me now, love. I'm going to sit down and take a break, and you're going to come get yourself off on my cock." Your heart thrums at the idea of finally having him inside of you, and the excitement has you launching off of the desk as soon as Matty has planted himself into the grand chair. His entire body is flushed with exertion and covered in a sheen of sweat that you wanted to lick off. Matty spreads his legs in invitation, arms placed on the arm rests as if he was just lounging. His cock is incredibly hard and red, and you can only imagine how wound up he is from not having come a single time since you began.

You finally right yourself and get off of the desk, immediately taking your place in Matty's lap. Your pussy immediately makes contact with his cock and you both moan at the simple touch. The wetness between your legs soaks him completely as you take an experimental rock over him. Matty's hands clasp onto your tank top and in a moment the top is finally gone, tits spilling out of your bra as you rock against him, breathless and keening.

Matty pulls down the cups of the bra to expose your tits and he groans at the sight, hungrily grabbing the newly revealed flesh. His eyes roll back into his head and he growls at the onslaught of sensations.

"Fuck, put me cock in you or you're going back onto the desk." His voice is strained and you have to hold back a laugh at his desperation but you obey, grabbing his cock to line yourself up. The intrusion is slow despite how wet you are as his cock stretches you to be completely full. Matty devours your tits as you sink onto him, licking and biting the sensitive flesh and muffling his moans into your skin until you're fully seated on him. You feel dizzy and lightheaded at finally being full, the pressure inside of you phenomenally perfect.

Your head lulls into Matty's shoulder and you squeeze your eyes shut as you begin small movements against him, grinding your hips the smallest amount as your body adjusts. You bite into Matty's shoulder to ground yourself and he moans, head falling back against the chair and his hair tickling your cheek. He presses a kiss to your temple as you lick the bite you left on him.

Matty's hands leave your tits to clasp at your hips, guiding you along in the rhythm he desires. Your thighs burn but the pleasure outweighs the discomfort as Matty builds a faster tempo, bouncing you on his cock.

"You've got a perfect pussy, love, holding onto me so tight, yeah?" Your walls flutter at his words and he moans throatily, bucking his hips into you in deeper strokes. Eyes shuttering closed, you relish in the pleasure you had stumbled into as Matty smacks your ass again, spurring your hips back into action as you move against him with renewed energy as pleasure sparks through your limbs.

"Open your eyes, love, you wanted to see me so bad and you got your eyes closed anyway." You struggle to get them opened again while your veins flood with pleasure but you manage it, zeroing in on the satisfied look on Matty's face. He moans as you bite your lip and bear down on him harder, feeling the twitch of his cock inside of you that spurs you on further.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum, shit, you feel so god damn good." Matty groans and strums his thumb over your sensitive clit. "I'm about to fucking fill you,such a good girl coming with me, yeah? Need you to come with me, love." Your eyes roll at his words and you feel your high just seconds away, squealing as pleasure makes your toes curl and you finally come, exploding on his cock, walls pulsing. Matty is close behind, curses and moans of your name spilling rapidly as he comes, filling you until cum is leaking back out around him. Your stomach clenches in an effort to keep it all in as your body sags into his, exhausted and sweaty.

"That was fucking perfect, good girl. You did so fucking well riding my cock." Matty kisses over every inch of your face he can reach with you attached to his neck. A weak thank you leaves you as your mind catches up slowly. Your sweat dries and you shiver, pressing further into his body heat and whining when his cock dislodges and more cum rushes out of you.

You groan at the mess in his lap, suddenly embarrassed in the aftermath. Detaching from him, your head starts to pound when you realize where you are, who you are, who he is...

"Stop that," his hands are on your cheeks, thumbs running over the apples in a steady stroke. "You're okay. I'm not going anywhere just yet." The earnest tone of his voice soothes some of the panic, but you're still teetering on uncertain territory.

"I just, I need to process this, I think. Like who we are, and what just happened and-" more cum leaks from you and you grimace. "And...that." You feel small and defeated, emotions running all over the place. Surprisingly astute to your feelings, Matty begins a low, melodic hum that settles your heart rate. Its a song you don't know but it calms you enough that your mind slows as Matty carefully extradites you from his lap and digs out a bottle of ibuprofen and water to take it with. When your head stops pounding he smiles at you, annoying charming, and you suddenly remember how you even ended up here.

Matty had replaced his boxers and brings you your scattered clothes before he sits himself on the floor in front of you. You avoid his gaze, still feeling slightly awkward and unreal as his choclately eyes examine you while you redress.

"Look at me, please." The edge in his voice is commanding and your stomach stirs with arousal again but you tamp it down. "This doesn't have to be anything else than this. I admit that some of this wasn't our best judgment...but I do genuinely really like you. And I do want to help you with your research. And like, take you on a normal date or something." His cheeks flush and its aggressively endearing to see him get flustered. You can't help the giggle that escapes you.

"Actually help me with my research? Because that's what this was supposed to be too." Your giggles break the tension and Matty rolls his eyes and crowds back onto the chair, pulling you into his lap as he bats at you playfully.

"Fine, maybe next time I'll refrain from fucking you in my office." You pout playfully in spite of yourself, enjoying the good natured sparkle in his eyes. "I said maybe, woman. You'll have me as much as you want me."

[insanescriptist]

Hii~ so this is a question for Umei, if thats okay? I really resonate with how she writes God in her stories but im new to all of this and i wasn't sure what..denomination(?) She is? I have religious trauma and ive been trying to work through it and just what she writes...how she writes about her faith and how she incorporates it into her stories..it really really speaks to me and it's made me interested in learning more but im not really sure where to go from here and what resources i should be looking into?

From Umei,

Firstly, I'm really sorry that people you should have been able to trust have taken advantage of you. You're so, so brave for facing up to that and keeping going despite it. I'd suggest finding an up-to-date translation of the bible as a starting point; I like the New International Version (NIV) but there are plenty of other options out there. One that you find readable -or listenable, if you want an app, there are online translations- and just reading the Word. Start with the New Testament and the gospels, to get used to who Jesus is in his own words, but do read all of it. Jesus says that if we know him, we know the Father (John 8:19 and John 14:9) and we get to know Jesus' character through reading the bible. I know I'm still finding new revelations in my daily readings. Prayer! You can talk to God directly any time you want, and it's good to make space in your day just to listen to him. That's all he wants from us: that we be close to him. If you want more material on how to interpret what's in the gospels and hear good, solid theology I can recommend Ellel Ministries International, as they're non-denominational, have local centres all over the world and excellent online material as well as courses you can take. I know the director, who is a really kind and humble guy, if that helps! Don't be afraid to take your time. The bible explicitly instructs us to test everything against the word of God, to make sure it's trustworthy, so don't feel you need to rush into picking a church. Get to know Jesus through the Word, get to know God generally through prayer, and know that God won't push. Anyone or anything trying to force you into something you're not ready for is not of God. God created free will! You get to choose what you are up for, every single step. Safe travels!

From Izzy,

First off, I'm quite fine with being asked to relay a message to Umei. She can be quite hard to reach otherwise

Second, as to religious trauma... There's quite a large difference between people who claim to be Christian and people who are. That is Faith

Real faith is amazing to behold and motivates people to be kind and help others, to let them know that they are not alone in their struggles. It is the hand held out in friendship, to help, to cheer and comfort. It is the ear that will listen, the heart that chooses to heal

Fake faith is a social performance, complete with social policing and ostracizing of those who fail to perform believably. That's how you get fear-mongering, zealotry to the word and no actual True Christian behavior, because they're not living the principles of the faith

Izzy lives in the Bible Belt of the US, so Izzy's seen both. In all kinds of denominations. A Church doesn't determine your faith, it determines your community. Your faith is determined by you and your relationship with God.

Congrats for having kept that hand out for Umei to have reached. You had the faith to reach out and you've been answered for it.

Third, the KJV (King James Version) of the Bible is the most popular, but it's also the one of the oldest modern translations. Like 1611, or 1612 Izzy wants to say? It has issues inherent in that, as it was written to stop the fracturing of the Church (Calvin and the Protestant Movement says hi) by providing a cohesive book for the common man and not just the church. By virtue of being widely available and so popular before printing became a thing, it's also the version most prone to being misused by anyone who means to do so, because most people don't read it or truly study it

Anyway there's been a lot of scholarship and debate about how things were translated, because languages have nuance that doesn't always translate. There's a lot of contextual difference between Ruler, King and Tyrant for example. So if you want a bible with more pure scholarship behind it, a lot of the modern translations are what you want. There's probably annotated versions if you look.

Lastly, as Izzy's not particularly devout by common definitions and not a dedicated scholar of theology, Izzy can't really recommend any sources to look up. Izzy's certain there there's lectures of seminary classes on the internet somewhere to watch though. Seminary classes being meant to train priests, rabbis and the like, you can see what they're meant to be teaching and how they're supposed to teach it

may kind thoughts find and comfort you, Izzy

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 34

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 31. 32. 33. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

Night passes, and morning comes, and when Elo wakes she once again finds a small green shape at the foot of the bed. "Snotgrut?" she asks, blearily. "…Do I want to know how you got in here? Or what you're even doing here?" «Took us a while, but I found youse. I told youse, y'never needs to worry about yer rest cuz I'll be there,» the drowsy goblin responds. "What about the night I apparently spent up a tree?" Elo asks, snippily. «That wus… That wus different. You wus up a tree.» "I thought you said green-skins could get any place they wanted?" «An' we can!» he snaps back, and there is a light growl in his voice as he says, «Like I says, that were different. Youse don't know what youse're askin'.» "You're right, I don't know. I don't understand why it's different," Elo says, struggling to keep her voice down. She doesn't want to wake Strucker or call attention to the fact there is a mythical beast in her room, having an argument with her. "I still don't know anything." «We's got you the book,» Snotgrut says, acerbic. «It shoulda explained everything.» "One, I can't read it. I don't understand the language it's written in. Two, it's evidence in an ongoing murder investigation. I got a cursory examination in, but that's it. It's not like I can take it home and make it my bedtime reading. The moss-ears were useless. All I have is you, Snotgrut. So tell me why it's different. Tell me why you let me spend a full day up a tree in the company of two strangers while my family went spare with worry." «Dvasia don't climb trees,» Snotgrut says, petulantly, crossing his arms and setting his jaw. "You'll climb everything but trees?" Elo shakes her head and gives a confused half-shrug. «It ain't done,» Snotgrut says. «It's… It's nebaigta.»

Elo frowns because an interesting thing has just happened. She does not understand what he just said, in the sense that it is a foreign, untranslatable word. It has not become a word that she has heard as English – like it's been with the Dvasia and Eshen. It's stayed as that ancient tongue from a time before time. Yet, she had understood it perfectly fine. While it remains untranslatable, that's because it's more of a concept than a term. He's telling her it's a taboo, more so than that – it's closer to an anathema. It's something that the Eshen and the Dvasia know instinctively, at their very cores: that they do not trespass in the other's domain. Eshen will not go beneath the earth, and Dvasia will not climb trees. They simply do not. There isn't even a question of one doing the other, it's not even a thing that could be considered breaking or disobeyed. It's just a fact.

Outside the bedroom window, a bird trills. "I apologise," Elo says. "I didn't understand, but now I do. And now that I do, I'm sorry for having even suggested it." «'S okay,» Snotgrut says. «I wus sat at the bottom of it anyhow. And…» He shuffles his feet. «It's still a bit more complicated than all that. You wasn't in the tree for all the time. Not exactly.» "And what does that mean?" Elo asks with a sigh. There's a knock at the door. "Elowyn, time to get up! I'm making pancakes," Johan calls. "Alright, I'll be right there," she calls back, then aims a glare at Snotgrut. "Turn around, close your eyes and get to talking." As Elo rises to dress, Snotgrut dutifully turns around, covering his eyes with his hands. «You blossomed right?» says Snotgrut. «At least, I think that's what the moss-ears call it. When youse get accepted by the eye youse was born under?» Elo selects an outfit from the neatly folded items on a nearby chair. "Yeah, so?" «So while that happens, you sorta… go… someplace. Someplace what ain't here. But I never heard of anyone being gone a full day afore.» "Is that why the girl looked at me like I'd just been offered something very precious and was too dumb to know what it was?" Elo asks as she buttons up her shirt. «Prob'ly, yeah.»

As Elo pulls on her socks, she tries to think if there was anything special that would indicate why she was there so long – aside maybe, from the fact it took her a long time to open up and she had to fight herself tooth and nail to get to the point where she burned with light. "What was it like for you?" she asks. «'S a bit personal, innit?» Snotgrut says. "Is it?" «Yuh.» He sounds offended, then sighs. «But for you, seen as how you don't know nuffin'… It was a bit nippy. Like getting dunked in a canal in late Autumn, just before the water starts to freeze over on the regular.» Elo gives a slow nod because she knows – oh gods, how she knows – what that is like. Her familiarity with the canals and their contents throughout every season and mood of the city is way past what would be considered proper for childish hi-jinks and a bargeman combined. She stops in the middle of tying her shoelaces. "So it wasn't like, ah, being turned into a block of ice, feeling every part of you crystallising as the moisture inside you freezes and thinking that your heart will disintegrate into shards with every beat?" There's stunned silence from the other end of the room. "You can open your eyes now," Elo says. Snotgrut spins, those red orbs looking like brake lights on a traffic-heavy day. «Aukštasvilkas looked on youse with Its silver eye?» "Well, no." Elo rubs the back of her neck. "I wanted to equate what I did feel to something you might have experienced." He is still staring at her, but now his brow ridges have risen. «Oh. No, I had nothing that… much. Was it… that much for you?» Elo suddenly feels somewhat shy telling him, but she still speaks. "I burnt," she says. "Its golden eye was turned to me, and I burnt. It blistered my flesh, and charred my bones and my soul, and boiled my blood away to nothing." Snotgrut is gaping at her now, but she continues doggedly on. "I was filled with light, and I felt what they said I should – I felt myself swelling with the sun's light and bursting into flower, only I wasn't like a minuscule daisy, I was like… I don't know what I was like. I don't know many flowers. But a big one, a complicated one, with lots of petals and layers." «Yuh, uh hu,» Snotgrut says, in a tone that reminds her of the plumber that one time telling Mrs Higgins her boiler was well and truly kaput. «That moss-ears girly had every right to be lookin' at you, all jealousy in her eyes. Only green-skin I ever heard of what that happened to wus Boss Dvasia.» Elo stops in the act of shrugging on her suit jacket. "Was he like me – did he start off as a human, with the heart of a Dvasia?" «Yuh,» Snotgrut says. «He's still like that, an' all. When he ain't using his powers.» "Wait, what? Who-?" "Elowyn!" Johan calls from the ground floor. "Pancakes are ready! At least, I think they are…" "Coming!" Elo looks away to shout at the door. She knows she can't lollygag anymore, but the desire to know the identity of her opponent is more pressing. Except, when she looks back, Snotgrut has vanished. The shadow where he stood seems longer, as if he's used it to slip away. Which, now that she thinks about it, wouldn't surprise her in the least if that were true. With a resigned sigh, she leaves the room and goes downstairs to breakfast.

Johan is waiting for her in the kitchen. There is a steaming mug of percolated coffee beside a plate of… Well. Elo decides that calling it pancakes is a charity. The batter is cooked, at least, but it's rubbery in places, burnt in others, and mostly in bits. She reaches for the syrup regardless, coats the mess in a sticky stream of pale gold, and decides that whatever it's appearance, its going in her stomach. You never turn down free food, after all; that's just rude. "You really didn't have to make pancakes," Elo tells him, after she has stuffed her face sufficiently – apparently she's more hungry than she thought – and takes a slurp of coffee. That, at least, is good. "I know. But I wanted to," Johan tells her, and at the moment she's having trouble seeing a fearsome warrior under the floral pinny, oven mitts and spatula, wielded as though it were a sword. "Well, thank you," Elo says, smiling. She takes another slurp of the coffee as she looks at the clock. "Oh. I hate to eat and run, but I've got to go. Thank you again for breakfast." She glugs down the remainder of the coffee, places her crockery by the sink and turns to go – only to find the spatula blocking her path.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Strucker asks. Elo frowns down at the spatula, and then up at Strucker. "To the station. Yates and Monday are going to have updates for me on the case, and I told Cobbleskater I'd help him translate Ev– ah. The notes." She thinks that the frown Strucker is aiming at her has nothing to do with the stumble in her words, but she presses on. "Then I will be going to City Hall to take His Nibs out for lunch, and… I'm not sure where this afternoon's jaunt will take us." "No. You will be doing none of that," he says. "Today, you're off duty. We decided it was best if you had some time off." Elo feels her features settle into a glower. "And who, exactly, is 'we'?" "The Triumvirate Council, in consultation with Captain Fugit and Constable Breakwood." Johan's expression softens. "You need rest, Elowyn. Clearly, the past week has been too stressful for you–" "Stressful for me?" Elo gapes. "What about you? Need I remind you, sir, you were placed on compassionate leave. If I need rest, then you need to be in a coma." Strucker has the good grace to look doubtful. "And what about the negotiations? The rest of the council is already nervous because I dropped off the grid for a day. Taking time off now will only make that worse." Johan sighs and lowers the spatula. "That is a fair point. Thazar said there were a lot of worrying comments from certain factions." "I want these negotiations to succeed, Johan. Don't put me on the bench yet." Johan is still frowning at her. "Breakwood is not going to be happy about this." "You leave him to me." "Very well. Give me ten, and then we'll head over to the 88th." "You don't need to drive me," Elo says, with a quirk of her lips. Johan shrugs. "We're going the same way eventually. I'm sure I can doss around for a few hours at the station. Maybe put the fear of St Cuthbert into some of your colleagues." Elo grins. "Fine." And the pair of them go about preparing for their days.

[psychelis-new]

Hi lys, how are you?

angel, melody, silk, rose, film, gorgeous, diamond, valentine, parchment, oasis, sweater.

Hope you're doing great!

Hey :) I had a bunch of complex days (let's say) since leo moon but it seems I'm starting to do better now. Thank you for asking! How are you? Everything's good?

angel; is there anyone you’d do anything for? Right now I'm trying to do anything for me. I know it may sound selfish, but it's not: it's about giving me my self worth back, which is the same worth of anyone else on this planet. I am trying to focus more on how I can take care of myself and how I can make myself happy: if I am not doing this, who will? I cannot depend on others, it would be so wrong. I wanna do anything I can especially for my inner child: they deserve it so much. They deserve to experience real magic for once.

melody; favorite artists? It depends on the type of art. For example I can mention Aivazovky in painting, Erwitt in photography, maybe Nolan as a film director and Idk, there are so many good inspiring artists! It's hard to mention even just a bunch (I cannot do this in music and writing)

silk; what outfit makes you feel confident? Any type of outfit, it depends on my mood. I more commonly wear comfy clothes and shoes but I also like to occasionally dress up. It really depends on how I feel

rose; favorite flower? I'd say white flowers, especially white tulips but tbh I just saw pink roses so... yeah, those too

film; favorite movie/tv show? Since I don't know which movie to choose among my favs, I'm gonna mention one I watched recently: "When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit" and it's basically about children and the shoah (it's based on a book, js).

gorgeous; what do you like in a person? Generally their heart, their mind, their passion/drive to reach their goals, seeing them experiencing what they like and makes them happy, their will to make themselves better. Everyone of us is made of different aspects/layers anyway and I think, each one of us, has at least a part of those layers that is so interesting and loving. And I like that.

diamond; favorite color? Uh.... Black and white? Grey? Blue, purple... Occasionally green. I tend to be attracted by all of these but more often to black, grey and white (especially if it's clothes/items. I rarely get anything red, pink or yellow... despite I have)

valentine; best gift you’ve ever received? This weirdo guy in the bnw pic here on the left. Actually I made the final choice (there were 3 puppies) but he was/is/will be still the best gift I ever received by all means. Thanks to my family, especially my granny.

BUT if we wanna joke a bit more around the answer to this question and talk about the unexpected (never thought I was gonna say what I'm going to say here but yeah, let life surprise you ig): these funny slippers on the right, which Idk what animals are, make a very terrible squishy sound at any step I take but I can't use to knock on doors (long story...), and make me walk about like Krusty the Clown. But are SO warm and I am appreciating them sm these days in which my feet are SO cold. Thanks brother. To be fair, there was another part of the gift (Xmas 2023) which is a Bambi wool-filled sweater that makes me look like a green dwarf with Bambi's ears when I wear it (it has a hood and it's like... oversized?), but that makes for another story.

parchment; favorite book? I haven't been reading for long now and I feel like I may always suggest the same old ones (the few titles I can remember, moreover) so... Okay, let's mention one: "The impossible lives of Greta Wells" by A. S. Greer. And "Silence: in the age of noise" by E. Kagge (so very inspiring and suggested)

oasis; dream destination? Atm, among the many other destinations I'd like to reach, I want to go see the Northern Lights in Iceland (not like right now cause it's still early but yeah...)

sweater; do you prefer loose or baggy clothes? And non-English native speaker me thought they were synonyms lol anyway I tend to prefer and wear loose/comfy clothes. I had my baggy-style period but it apparently ended long ago. Except for the Bambi-sweater. That is like... more than baggy I guess. But yeah.

Thanks a lot for sending, have a great day/night and take care<3

[bloginabottle]

You Uncork a Bottle! There’s a Message Inside!

You uncork a bottle! There’s a message inside! When you read it, it seems to be the first page of many that make up a blog. How interesting for you!! It seems this blog in particular goes over writing tips, spotlights, shout outs, and the occasional suggestion. You wonder if you’ll be able to use any of this in the future….

Hello, hello! Welcome to the blog, my name is Sea Lucille and I'll be serving as your host while you settle in!

Here at Blog in a Bottle, we share writing tips, book suggestions, shout outs, and spotlights! Be sure to make yourself super cozy! We'll be updating this blog every week, so stay tuned for some juicy tips and suggestions from followers.

CHARACTER TIPS

Today we have two character tips from yours truly! This is going to be about character design and how to keep it nice and clean for your readers while still being able to get all the details you want!

⦁ Know when to show and when to tell.

I know what some may say! "Shouldn't you always show and tell?" But I advocate for a healthy balance of both. If you're showing everything, then your page may drag on (which is harmful for your story, especially if you're focusing on details that aren't important), but if you're telling everything the story feels lifeless.

When it comes to character design, show about the most important details and tell about the obvious ones. For instance, if there's an earring that your character wears that's important to them, have it dangle or glint in the light as they move. But the MC just so happens to notice their shoes? Just say it how it is!

This will separate the nuances of your character's design and make it obvious which details are important without being extremely in-your-face.

⦁ Use Body Sheets

If you can't draw, you can simply keep a character sheet specifically for the character's body and what it looks like. I recommend this SPECIFICALLY for anyone who has a character with scars, tattoos, birthmarks, piercings, etc. Anything that can be easily forgotten when describing your character.

For instance, I'm extremely forgetful, so if my character has a scar in an odd place, I'll want to be able to make sure I say so and remember exactly where it is I want the scar to be.

CHARACTER SPOTLIGHT

Today's spotlight shines on....what's this?? A self promotion?? Blasted authors and their need to market their work!

We have Whybee!

Whybee is a sentient book in the upcoming short story Your Book by Sea Lucille (hello). They've fallen head over heels for humanity and admire every person deeply- from murderer to mother.

They talk directly to the reader, admiring them while also being just a little self loathing! If getting praised for existing is something you need in your life, then keep your eyes out for my book, Your Book!

. . . . Favorites/Least Favorites

Whybee is hard to narrow down when it comes to their favorites and least favorites. They seem to love just about anything and everything- even things that are considered to be toxic. That stated, they hate the idea of humans ruining their own lives via shorter lifespans, and so alcohol, cigarettes, and other drugs are definitely off the table of "I like these ''.

. . . . Love Interest/Romantic Typing

Whybee doesn't have a love interest in the book, unless you want to count the reader! And their type is pretty much anyone and everyone! They're not one to judge based on appearances, thoughts, opinions, and so on. Rather, they love everyone and everything- they would be happy just knowing that you love them, too.

. . . . If You Kin

If you kin Whybee, then you're someone with a strong passion for human-kind. Perhaps even an anthropologist! You're a little bit naive, and it's something you understand about yourself. Even so, you're still a thinker! A deeply emotional thinker, but a thinker none-the-less. You love with your entire being, clinging to those you care about and wanting to do everything in your power to help them in any way. But your compassion is also a curse. You struggle with your self image and envy the people around you despite not wanting to. When you can't help someone, it makes you feel weaker or less important. And if you don't get the same amount of attention, compassion, or care back from those that you aid, you can feel bitter and unloved. But you are, in fact, a very lovable person deserving of attention and happiness.

PUBLISHER SHOUTOUT

Working on a book? Have an idea? Need to publish?

Well, come on over to Spellbound Publishing!! While I could talk all day about the low prices and amazing benefits from signing with Spellbound, I think what would be even better is talking about the two wonderful women who run it.

Helpful, lovely, supportive, and hilarious, both Teddi and Taylor do so much to aid the authors at Spellbound. They're so amazingly nice, which is the main reason I even want to talk about them on my new blog. As I've slowly begun to know them and get used to their personas, I've also slowly become majorly attached to both of them. It's a hard thing to avoid, since they're both absolute sweethearts.

Teddi is always offering links to make life easier. Things like advice for newsletters, popular TikTok tags, and even straight up live advice on personal issues. She has SUCH a motherly feel to her, you notice it almost immediately once you start talking to her.

And Talyor is just SUPER energetic about everything, she's always a pleasure to talk to. I feel like I'm always reflecting her energy back because enthusiasm is really easy for me to latch onto and copy. She helps people to feel right at home as soon as they sign up and join Slack (our little chatspace).

Finally it feels like my childhood dreams of publishing a book and becoming an author are coming true, and I owe everything to Teddi and Taylor. Marketing, editing, publishing- they've helped with so much. I only hope I can somehow return the favor!

So if you have a book that you want to publish, or even just an idea, please visit their website! Spellbound Publishing Link: Not only will you get in contact with two wonderfully organized and supportive women, but you'll also be able to meet and chat with so many other amazing people- fellow authors of the community!

(I'm sure I'll end up talking about them in my upcoming blogs, haha.)

Thank you so much for reading!! I can't wait to get to know my followers and build a community around writing, sharing tips, and suggesting books! If you want to share any writing tips, book suggestions, characters for character spotlight, and anything else that comes to mind, my DMs are 1000% open!

As a side note, I am indecisive, so changes may occur until I’m satisfied with how everything works. Do not be alarmed if I change things like the name, I promise it’s normal. Very, very silly brained and fluffy headed, but normal.

Until then, expect another, similar blog post like this one next week! (If you want more content from yours truly, you can check out my Tik Tok account: @censierralewis I go by Sea Lucille)

[grison-in-space]

I mean, yeah: literally any dogs associated with rural jobs will have that corner of the community. Hunting dogs--gundogs, hounds, curs, feists, working terriers, all of em--can absolutely attract that sort of thing too. So can anything associated with bitesports. So can working herd dogs--border collies, English Shepherds, ACD, and Kelpies. It does not help that QAnon has fucked up so many people's minds and critical reasoning pathways.

Which isn't to say that ACDs are majority owned by Trump partisans or QAnon creeps: that hasn't been my experience at all! Neither do I mean to suggest that working dogs are full of racists etc because like... that's just not true. For example, the two women who are really pushing hardest right now to grow and develop a robust community for working ACDs are really emphatic about being beginner friendly and welcoming to anyone who wants to try to learn how to run dogs, no matter how shy or inexperienced they are. @wyrddogs and @adventuresofwaverly have been cheerfully explaining how they got into these sports just this week and how communities of working dogs have formed to help them learn and grow with their dogs.

It's more that I think it's important for all of us to be aware of how our hobbies and interests can also attract people who are not safe for everyone, so you have an ear out and can be aware. We often talk about people like QAnon loons and Nazi fucks like they're far away and rarely encountered. But, you know, they're people too--and more to the point, the pathways that lead people along the road to fascism are often rooted in our hobbies. If you are interested in any hobbies related to agriculture, hunting, fishing, self sufficiency, history, crafting, conservation, biology, animal fancy and breeding, and a raft of others I'm surely forgetting, there are going to be people in your hobby using it as a gateway to talking fascism because that's where a lot of these pipelines start. There are also going to be some real fuckknuckles in the hobby just by virtue of being, you know, human beings that do have additional interests. In every community, they tend to take certain forms depending on the culture of that community: because Trumpism is popular among dudes in "masculine"-tagged hobbies, that's the flavor I look out for in working cattle dogs.

If I was really into toy breeds focusing on conformation, which is a much more femme community, I would be calibrating my casual observations with an eye towards watching out for radical feminists and particularly TERFs: radical feminism is more common in that demographic and is an inherently fascist position besides. (I can dig into that in more detail if anyone wants, but broadly I'm talking here about radical feminism as defined by the idea that the two genders are engaged in an eternal struggle by definition to which there must be a winner and a loser, which is a very fascist response to conflict.) Basically, that's the shape of fuckery I tend to see in toy dog communities.

There are good people in all places and with all kinds of backgrounds. It's important to keep that in mind. But it's always good to know what the shape of nasty fuckers tends to be in your community so that, e.g., you're not totally surprised and horrified when a missing stair turns out to be a shithead to marginalized people on some axis or another.

Genuine curiosity: why would you expect to see Trump et al names with ACD's?

Oh, just thinking in terms of what kinds of shitty people wind up in which breed communities? Cattle dogs have a big old "rural, blue-collar, masculine, Western" association in the US, and one that tends to skew white at that: in some ways, they otherwise occupy a similar niche to pit bulls, but one that is pretty white-coded. This is a comforting kind of image for shitty right-wing people to pick up, especially if they want to be perceived as super masculine. Right-wingers often adopt the mythos of working-class rural people even if they're actually much more urban and affluent than that, partly to cloak how much they suck billionaire dick. They're the kind of dog I could see a Texas GOP politician on a campaign trail picking up if he wanted to engage in a particularly cynical kind of ploy.

It's not that this kind of stuff is everywhere in ACDs, but it's always worth keeping in mind what kinds of people are drawn to the "image" any given breed puts out, including the shittier kinds. (Honestly, implicit in that comment's context, talking to @doberbutts who has frequently discussed the tendency for Nazis to be drawn to Dobes, was the comparison to his breed communities' own brand of shitty people.)

[jweekgoji]

Ive had this idea of yandere!five kidnapping you and diego finding you and feeling like needs to save you. Idk why but its been in my head all week 😭

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, dark/yandere themes, some villain!Five mentions, Diego here is a good guy, the end of the story remains uncertain, Diego/Lila relationship, Lila/Reader&Diego/Reader just friends.

oh my! i really love ur idea!! just imagine...Five, who actually spent his whole life trying to save people he loves from any disaster and Diego, who's basically suffering from hero complex 24/7. two overprotective guys who will do anything to save you! but there are some differences... let's start with Five.

Number Five

Well, you didn't specify if Diego here yandere too, so I'll only describe Five as one.

So, I don't think Five has a hero complex. Yes, he practically gave up all his basic human needs just to finally make sure that these 6 assholes do not die, but he didn't do this because he considered his destiny to be a hero for them, he saw the death of loved ones. He literally has no other choice. And I don't think Five ever told them how he saved them in the end of season 2. He's fine and satisfied when all of them are safe and sound.

I think that he would kidnap you only if you are in great danger, for example, someone from the Commission, or maybe The Handler herself is interested in you, which is why one of her goals will be to harm you, to kill you and possibly torture you. Actually, do something that you 100% wouldn't like, and obviously Number Five wouldn't like it too.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, looking skeptical about all this weird story. A visible annoyance and displeasure on your face due to the fact that you were literally offered to forget about your career and personal life, it was not surprising when you began to refuse his offer.

After a moment, you began to laugh quietly, turning away from Five so that he wouldn't notice your silly reaction to his words. Does he even understand what that sounds like?

“Do you have any idea how serious I am right now?” Five says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What you're suggesting is not serious, Five,” you click your tongue. “What will I tell my friends? 'Excuse me, I have to pretend to be dead for God knows how long while I'm being chased by a space-time organization with a hundred highly dangerous assassins ready to kill me at any moment' ?”

“Why not?” he asks, it was obvious that he still didn't understand your main issue.

“Look, Five,” you sigh heavily. “I'm not even part of the Academy, you know? All these fights, escapes from one world to another...all of this stuff is not for me. Unlike you, I never lived as a hero, I'm just an ordinary person with boring problems.”

You rub your temples tiredly, trying to calm down, while there was a tense silence between you at this time. You didn't pay attention to how amazingly quiet Five was, perhaps you didn't notice because of how much you wanted to avoid conflict and not hurt his feelings at the same time.

“I wasn't a hero either,” he calmly replies to you, pausing a little, while he steps closer to you. “And I’m not sure I ever will be one.”

You turn your gaze to him, looking confused by his response, but you remain quiet, not sure what to say to that. Five comes up to you and just hugs you, pulling you closer to him.

“But if I get a guarantee that you'll be safe,” Five whispers softly in your ear, his grip on you tightens visibly. “Then I have no other choice then to be a villain.”

Number Two

And right after that, here we are, Diego appears on stage.

I don't think Five would tell anyone about you, because first of all, taking care of you is Number Five's private business, not Two's.

But the rest of the Umbrella Academy clearly knows of your existence, maybe just as one of Five's friends, maybe as a lover or just the person who somehow gets along really well with him, so it would be strange of Diego not to start worrying about your sudden disappear, since you were just a civilian with no superpowers.

And we all know that under the watchful eye of this lovable version of Batman nothing can escape.

Diego stared at Five, leaning back in his chair. It seems as if he is now going through that difficult period of his life at the Academy again, when Number Two played the role of an independent hero who always suspected everyone, only this time, he didn't know if his guesses were true.

Five seemed to be just ignores this man, too busy for now, while he makes some peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.

“Are you going to stare at me like that all day?” Five asks.

“Where are they?” Diego spins his knife in one hand, narrowing his eyes, now he doesn't even try to hide the fact that he watches every single one Five's action.

“Since when do you care about their whereabouts?” Five barely noticeably frowns at the mere mention of it, but carefully hides his real emotions.

Diego suddenly stands up and quickly walks towards Five, grabbing his arm, stopping him from doing any further, having all of his attention.

“I know there's definitely something wrong here,” Number Two leans a little lower towards Five. “And I will-”

“Good luck,” Five scoffs, taking a tray of food before he quickly disappears from Diego's grasp, leaving the frustrated 'detective' all alone.

Let's be honest, I don't think anyone would be interested in your missing. Perhaps your family would have definitely applied for your search, and then Diego somehow found out about it, having old connections, but the Hargreeves rarely even worrying about each other, and even less about you.

You are very, very lucky that Diego will be the only one who is genuinely interested in finding you and helping you.

Diego has years of experience as a superhero who works alone, but it will be very difficult for him to find you by himself, so he would use the help of Lila in his heroic journey, because we are talking about Number Five, who have more intellect and experience than Diego.

Lila would be useful, given that she also worked for the Commission and may know all the habits they were taught there. Diego, on the other hand, was also worked some time on the Commission, even though not for too long, but he was definitely able to learn something there.

Lila coughs softly, trying to somehow brighten up this awkward silence between them.

“So, you really think shorty can do this?” the woman put her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly to one side. “I mean, he’s really crazy, but not that much.”

The man only gestures for her to be quiet, these two tried to get to you as carefully as they can and without too much noise.

“I'm not sure, okay?” Diego hisses softly at her before continuing going forward, leaving Lila behind him despite her protests to go ahead with him. “Just believe me.”

Lila shrugs and runs up to Diego, now walking beside him.

“Yeah, I believe you and all,” she huffs, slightly puffing out her cheeks playfully. “But I don’t really like the idea of fighting this tiny bastard again.”

Number Two fell silent for a moment, when suddenly he stopped in front of the door, tugging at the handle, trying to open it.

“Come on, tough guy, use your power,” he hears the teasing voice of his companion from behind, and Diego quietly muttered something under his breath, but took this idea into account, and with a few strong kicks, he was able to open the previously locked door.

The door opened with a quiet creak, and your two rescuers slowly entered the room, quickly looking around, hoping to find and pick you up as soon as possible.

Luckily for them, you were there, but unconscious, wrapped warmly in the blankets that surrounds you. Diego quickly rushed to you, standing over your sleeping figure and began to shake your shoulders, trying to wake you up.

“Come on, come on, wake up,” he keeps repeating this over and over again until you sleepily open your eyes.

You were tired, still half awake, and unable to accurately process your surroundings. You blinked a few times, placing one hand on Diego's chest, slowly coming to your senses.

“Diego?” you say hesitantly, looking at Lila. “No-no, you shouldn't be here...You need to go now.”

“We didn't just make it this far and then leave you here,” you feel Lila's hand on your waist, trying to lift you up from bed.

You shook your head again, now panicking as the couple tried to drag you out of the room despite your weak protests and warnings about what might comes next if they wouldn't leave now.

The room lit up with blue light only for a second before your captor arrived with a new tray of food for you. Silence once again filled the room and all of you looked at each other, waiting for the next step.

The tray fell down with a loud crash, landing somewhere slightly away from you, making you flinch at the surprise and loud noise.

“What the hell is going on here?” Five says every word with anger, still standing in place, blocking the way and not letting anyone out.

Lila looks at Diego expectantly, to which the man leaves you in the arms of his companion, while he approaches Five..

“What you're doing is wrong, you literally kidnapped them against their will,” he points at you. “But you still have a chance to make things right, Five.”

Number Five grabs Diego by the collar, causing him to lean down.

“Listen to me carefully, you idiot. All I did was protect them until you break here and put them in danger, which was actually a really dumb decision,” Hargreeves continued to swear, but soon pushes Diego away from him and has already headed in your direction to pick you up, until this desperate poor man with a hero complex didn't stand in front of you.

“I don't want to fight you,” Diego says, practically begging but still standing his ground. This draws a disapproving reaction from Number Five, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

“So do I.”

[thedupshadove]

(Inspired by that @bemusedlybespectacled post I reblogged a few days ago, as well as the trend of writing Reddit posts about fictional characters)

Posted by u/Ginger-Gin on r/relationships:

My (24f) boyfriend (27m) won't hit me

So, I started dating this guy a few months ago, and things have been pretty great. He's hot, he's funny, he's smart, he's nice, we have similar interests, I'd be lying if I said his income wasn't a nice bonus, and the sex...well. At first, the sex was about as good as it had ever been for me, which is to say that it was fun, but that magic everyone talks about wasn't there. Until one night, when right as we were building to the climax, he (apparently spontaneously) bit my neck, pulled my hair a little, and practically snarled "You're all mine" in my ear. Readers, it was so hot. But afterwards, he seemed really upset, apologizing over and over and genuinely looking like he was about to cry.

This started a tricky conversation, and I finally got out of him that he had been fairly active in our city's BDSM scene (but swears he hasn't "scened" with anyone since before we started dating). I didn't really know anything about BDSM, so I decided to pause the conversation while I did a little poking around online. The more I found, the more certain I was that this was something for me, that this could be the source of the much-vaunted "spark" that I had never felt from sex before.

But when I tried to suggest to my boyfriend that we incorporate some of this stuff into our relationship, he was adamantly against it. I couldn't get him to explain why in detail, but at one point he did say "I can't. Not to you."

I don't understand. I know he's into this stuff. The more I learn, the more certain I am that I'm into this stuff. And we're into each other. So why can't we be into this stuff together? Do I just not have the right... submissive energy?

Posted by u/Anonymous on r/amitheasshole

Aita for wanting to treat my girlfriend well?

A little background. For several years, I (27M) was a regular participant in the BDSM subculture. I'm not proud of it, but--for reasons too complicated to explain--I got myself into a place where I could only really find satisfaction at the thought of tying a woman up and "punishing" her for even thinking about leaving.

But a little less than a year ago, I decided that I wanted to change; leave the clubs and the hookups and the "scene" and try to hammer myself into a functional human being.

Not long after that, I met an amazing woman (24f). It was touch-and-go trying to build my first real romantic relationship (I'm not particularly good with people outside of a work context, and I make considerably more money than her, which made it hard to find the sweet spot between "not doing nice things for her" and "showing off"), but now we've been together for several months, and it seems like I find new things to love about her every day. I could still feel the dark perversions of my past rumbling in my breast, but I clamped down on it, and I'm proud to report that our sex has been strictly vanilla.

That is, until a few nights ago. Our lovemaking was particularly passionate, and I...lost control. Let my old self out, if only a little bit. As soon as the lust-induced stupidity wore off, I of course immediately tried to apologize for my behavior, but she didn't seem upset; instead just asking question after question. I hadn't wanted her to find out about this side of me, but after my outburst, I felt I owed her honesty. So, I told her the truth, while trying to emphasize that this wasn't a part of me I had any intention of giving into again.

That seemed to satisfy her at the time, but only a few days later she told me that she had been "doing some digging", and was interested in "exploring" BDSM with me. I'm not sure which possibility horrifies me more; that she felt it necessary to feign interest in being beaten and threatened just to maintain a relationship with me, or that I have somehow managed to corrupt this angel after only glancing exposure to my twisted proclivities. Either way, I tried to explain that this wasn't what I wanted--that I wanted to change, to find a version of myself that I could be proud of, and most of all to give her the genuine love and tenderness and safety that I know she deserves. She eventually dropped the subject, but I could tell she wasn't satisfied or convinced.

At an impasse with the most important person in my life, and lacking anyone else in my real life to whom I could tell any of this, I put the matter to all of you for your input.

[demonsandco]

I searched through your blog and I'm honestly so surprised you don't have more Simeon content. That being said, if you're still doing it, can I get the WHOLE smut alphabet for Simeon?

You’re right! It’s a shame cause he’s very much one of my favorites now that we get to see more of him in game! Normally I wouldn’t do the entire alphabet like this because it’s… a lot, but Simeon deserves it uwu. This is nearly 3000 words, which makes it my longest post yet by a long shot!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Simeon is such a sweetheart after sex. He’s not actually sleepy, but his limbs feel like jelly and he’s full of so many soft, loving emotions. All he wants to do is keep his partner close in his arms, slyly stealing kisses from their lips and whispering words of love in their ear. He’s not eager to get up or move at all, but he’s willing to have a bath or grab some water if they join him. Sex leaves him feeling rather emotional and vulnerable, and he really just wants to feel them near him and hear their voice.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Simeon’s favorite part of his body is his hands. He wears gloves often to protect them, leaving his skin feeling so soft and smooth. He’s a very hands on type of person, and he’s quite skilled with them, too. One of his favorite things to do during sex is run his hands up and down his partner’s sides, feeling their warmth under his palms.

In turn, Simeon loves every part of their body. If he had to pick just one part, though, it would be their eyes. He’s a firm believer in the saying that “eyes are the windows to the soul” and he could lose himself in their gaze. He’s fond of maintaining eye contact, watching their expression shift as they get close and memorising the different shades and tones that make up their eye color.

(Cont under the cut)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Simeon cums so much, both in quantity and frequency, but he hates the messiness of it. It feels good in the moment, but it gets cold and sticky way too quickly for his liking. He really likes to see his partner covered in his cum, as though he marked them as his in a way only the two of them would know about, but he’s always quick to help clean them up before it gets uncomfortable.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Simeon really doesn’t have anything that he would call a dirty secret. All the sexual experiences he’s had in the past have been quite tame and he’s very much not the type of person to feel ashamed about his past actions or keep them secret. He’s an open book when it comes to relationships and sex.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, angels are allowed to have sex. As long as it doesn’t impact their duties, angels can do whatever they want with their private lives, and Simeon very much took advantage of that. He’s had quite a few partners in the past, especially before the war took place. His original rank as a Seraph gave him a lot of popularity among other angels. His experiences have taught him a lot about how to make his partner feel good in many different ways, but he never really had the chance to figure out what he enjoys. There’s a huge opportunity for them to experiment with his body and to teach him more than just the basics.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Simeon is really open to experimenting and trying out new positions, so he doesn’t have just one favorite. However, the positions he enjoys most are ones where he can see his partner’s face, especially if the position lets him pull them against his chest when he feels the need for closeness. He’s open to just about any position, though, even if it seems rather absurd at first.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simeon isn’t goofy enough to ruin the moment, but his playful nature definitely shines through. If he’s in bed with someone, that means he feels close to them emotionally, too, so he feels comfortable enough to not stay serious all the time. Sometimes things go wrong in the moment or something silly gets said out loud on accident. He doesn’t see anything wrong with laughing it off or jokingly teasing each other. He’s good at telling when the mood allows for some laughs and when some composure is necessary.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Being an angel, Simeon’s body is almost entirely hairless. Besides the hair on his head, the only other hair on him is a small patch above his cock and a very faint happy trail. He doesn’t enjoy the feel of shaving, but he does keep it very neatly trimmed at all times. Colour wise, it matches the hair on his head perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Simeon is quite romantic in the moment. Love and intimacy are very important aspects of sex to him, and that comes through in most of his actions. His pace, his preferred positions, everything reflects that intimacy that he craves. Through it all, he’s sweet talking to his partner, letting them know how good they make him feel, how important they are to him, and how much he loves them. He knows he might come across as too intense, but he wants to make sure they know that sex isn’t just about the physical aspect for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Simeon rarely, if ever, feels the need to masturbate. Without a partner, sex really isn’t something he thinks about often, and if he does have a partner, he’d much rather take care of his need with them, rather than on his own. If he does end up jacking off, though, he always ends up fantasising about them, and he finds that he can’t actually cum without imagining them being there with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, Simeon has a corruption kink. It came as a huge shock to him when he first realised it, but something about having his sweet little human tempt him and lead him down a path of “sin” excites him. It feeds into his rebellious nature that he constantly tries to control. It gives him a rush of adrenaline whenever they convince him to do something shameful or lewd and he finds himself enjoying it and even craving more instead of actually feeling shame.

As well, Simeon also has a massive praise kink. He always strives to please his partner as best as he can and getting positive reinforcement, something he rarely hears normally, sends shocks of pleasure shooting down his spine. The more praise he gets, the more eager he is to be good. If he’s being bratty, praising his good behavior in the past gets him to behave much quicker than a “punishment” would.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Simeon’s preferred location is either his or his partner’s room. It’s a place that feels safe and familiar, while also offering privacy. They can take as much time as they want and be as loud as they feel like without having to worry about anyone bursting in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Getting Simeon turned on is pretty easy. All his partner needs to do is be direct with their advances. Their boldness excites him. He isn’t the type of person to get turned on by seemingly innocent actions, so their intent needs to be clear. That, alongside some suggestive touches, is more than enough to get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Simeon is usually open to trying anything once and there’s not a lot that he’s opposed to, but he is very serious with his boundaries. He refuses to allow sex with his partner to start impacting his day to day life. Skipping classes, missing meetings, or even risking being late to something, even if it’s not important, in favor of sex is a big no for him. He makes his boundaries very clear from the start, and will quickly become harsh if his partner doesn’t respect them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Simeon has almost no experience in oral, giving or receiving, but it quickly becomes one of his favorite things. He could spend hours between his partner’s thighs without getting bored. While he’s rather hesitant and unsure at first, he’s very skilled at reading their reactions and starts adjusting his technique to make them feel as good as possible.

He doesn’t enjoy receiving quite as much, but he still loves it! It’s so easy for his partner to make him cum or overstimulate him with just their mouth. The warm wetness of their mouth feels divine and their breath is so hot against his skin, he can’t help but cum embarrassingly quickly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Simeon greatly enjoys taking his time with his partner, keeping a slow and sensual pace and exploring every inch of their body with his mouth and hands. He’s not a fan of rushing, even as he gets closer to his peak, he keeps his pace steady, his body molding against theirs. He’s not opposed to going faster if they prefer that, but his favorite pace will always be slow and intimate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Simeon is not a fan of quickies. He’ll be open to trying it at least once, but he knows from the start that it’s not his cup of tea. The whole thing just feels so rushed and impersonal to him. The most important part of sex to him is the intimacy and emotional connections, and quickies feel very lacking in comparison. If anything, they leave him craving his partner even more than before.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simeon is very open to experimenting and he’s always excited to learn and experience new things. He’s willing to try anything once, even if it’s something that he’s pretty sure he won’t enjoy. The idea of taking risks also interests him, but it needs to only be a perceived risk for him to participate. Something like messing around in an empty classroom at RAD is exciting, but it needs to be afterhours when the school is empty and the door has to be locked for him to feel comfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Simeon’s stamina is not the best, at least at first. He can go for more rounds than the average human just because he’s an angel, but he’s so unbelievably sensitive that the rounds themselves are rather short. It’s been so long since he’s had anyone touch him sexually that he ended up cumming in his pants the first time he was with his partner. With time, his stamina will improve drastically, probably to the point where he could easily outlast them, but he needs some practice to get there.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys aren’t something Simeon has ever really thought about using or has ever owned. When he sees the huge variety of toys that exist, he feels excited to try them out, mostly relying on his partner’s preferences and recommendations to pick some. He quickly learns that he really enjoys having them use different toys on him and, in turn, he loves the new opportunities the toys give him when it comes to pleasuring them in return. The possessive, prideful part of him that is usually buried very much prefers making his partner feel good on his own, without toys to help, but most of the time, he doesn’t mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The first time he teases his partner, it’s entirely accidental, his habit of going slow and taking his time exploring their body ends up making him tease them. Once he sees the way it makes them feel, though, he starts doing it on purpose, wanting to see more of their reactions. He’ll relent, with a smug little smile on his face, if they start begging, but until then, he plays the innocent card, pretending not to realise what he’s doing.

As much as he likes to dish it out, Simeon really can’t take much teasing. He’s so sensitive and desperate that he’ll start begging immediately, willing to do anything just to feel more of their touch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Simeon is naturally very loud and he lets out the prettiest sounds. At first, he tries to muffle them and keep his volume down. He talks quite a bit, at least while he’s still able to form coherent thoughts, and loves to whisper sweet things to his partner in a breathy tone. The closer he gets to cumming, the more his words devolve into delicate gasps and high pitched moans. When he cums, he lets out the longest, breathiest whine that no amount of gritting his teeth or covering his mouth could smother. He’s very vocal throughout, and without some sort of soundproofing, his voice can very much be heard through the walls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Simeon has a hard time controlling his wings during sex. He can’t focus hard enough to keep them hidden and they tend to have a mind of their own, fluttering and puffing up depending on how he feels. They’re quite sensitive in the moment too, especially at the base. In the end, he finds himself wrapping his wings around his partner as he pulls them close, keeping them warm and safe under his feathers. Unfortunately, this usually means that the bed is covered in feathers from all his flapping and wiggling.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Simeon has such a pretty cock, so perfectly smooth that it almost looks like a drawing rather than an actual dick. He’s large enough to be impressive without seeming intimidating, with just enough girth to feel like a stretch, but not be painful. It’ll still take some prep for his partner to take him, but it won’t be too difficult with some patience and plenty of lube.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Simeon’s libido isn’t very high at all, and sex isn’t something that’s on his mind constantly. What matters to him most is spending quality time with his partner, regardless of what they’re doing together. They usually need to be the one to actually initiate things, since he has no qualms with pushing down his need to avoid ruining the moment. With how much he values physical touch, it’s not hard for cuddles to become something more, and as long as there’s time for it, Simeon will never say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sex doesn’t exactly leave him feeling sleepy, but it does make him feel extraordinarily relaxed. He tends to follow his partner’s lead, staying awake longer if they don’t plan to sleep right away. With how warm and soft he feels, though, he has no trouble falling asleep quickly, cuddling them close to his chest to absorb more of their body heat. If it’s up to him, he prefers to share some casual pillow talk together, before falling asleep soon after. If he can avoid having to get up and be functional, he will.

[iovelore]

❝ MORTAL TALES ❞ ( O1 )

summary and word count: a certain fae can’t help but find amusement in the youngest elfhame’s prince‘s frustration. wc — 1493

pairings: the cruel prince!cardan greenbriar x fem!reader

contents and warnings: jealousy, hinting of threesome, mentions of knife (nothing extreme), suggestive content, mutual pining-ish, fluffy?

a/n: i used tcp cardan because i couldn’t see any context of y/n being used in a fic in the other books (i also need it for the next part </3). i tried my best to include the tail bit since it didn‘t come out right, ill add it in either part 2/3. cardan is a bit ooc (i made him a bit idk how to put it besides: sub?man whore. because i believe that’s what he is 😁). and y/n resembles jude just a little bit with the blade thing, but only a little because jude is neither very flirty or open up about her sexuality (more so in the first book) and that’s what i made y/n like.

also, since this was more in y/n’s perspective, next part will be more so cardans <3

Y/N's legs crossed as she leaned her head on locke's shoulder, while Poppy, a half-faerie: who Locke has shown great interest in— for all the wrong reasons — sat before them and told them of the mortal tales her father would recite to her every night or the ones she gathered on her own from her adventures back where the humans lived.

Y/N found them odd: how they all were almost nothing compared to the people here; they were fragile, but she found similar enjoyment in them all nonetheless — and perhaps she had the eldest duarte to blame for her obsession with all things mortal, and Poppy's tales weren't helping either — which has unfortunately gained her the harsh scowls from the youngest prince of Elfhame.

Though that was no surprise. The boy had never been kind enough for her to realise that his treatment towards her was almost cruel — not that it had mattered, because to Y/N it was a show; she knew where his feelings lay, and it was nothing but amusing. To everyone with eye sight as clear as day, he'd never liked her, but when in class, when he believes her to be ignorant of his stare or his wagging tail; she has a classmate whisper every move his body makes, and it fuelled her heart all too much.

"It's not quite normal there, unlike here, if anyone decided to walk around with it they'd get humiliated till they're six feet under," Poppy snorted, covering her mouth with the back of her palms.

Locke turned to stare behind him, catching sight of the prince and Nicasia — both pouting miserably (one much too obvious than the other), and at that, he smiled. "Oh you’re right, tails are quite odd aren’t they? More so on a prince,"

Y/N shrugged at that, "It's alright, I do think Cardan makes it quite, charming? He’s always wagging it around like some...was it a cat you called it?"

"Yes a cat," Poppy shook her head positively, "though don't say that out loud, I doubt he's as clueless on mortal knowledge as we think he is."

Locke hummed, a smirk growing on his lips as he kept his eyes trained on his friend, Y/N following suite of his gaze and sultry grinning at the boy from afar, ignoring Nicasia — causing his eyes to widen momentarily, before the scowl found home on his face once more.

"He's never quite liked you has he?" His words were soft against her ear, his lips landing gently beneath her ear-lobes, kissing it tenderly as he kept his eyes trained on his flaring friend — who if one squinted, could perhaps see smoke escape his ears, if they ignored the immense swinging of his tail.

Y/N smiled, a small amount of malice lacing her intentions, "hatred I'd say, though he doesn't think I'm that foolish does he?"

Poppy, who now stared at her feet, hands tugging the grass with a blush coating her tanned features, "he's looked like he wanted to murder Locke."

Y/N snickered, a sickeningly sweet one at that, as she lowly muttered, "it’s all working then, sweetness."

Later on, when Y/N was left with no one to keep her company — as Locke found himself adorning Poppy and Nicasia's presence, alone — she took notice of the emptiness of Locke's home. It was beautiful, nothing as extravagant as Hollow Hall, yet she found herself admiring the interior all the same.

And as her hands traced the designs etched on the walls, as if it were a reminiscence of her first time staring upon them, a deep, and rather annoyed cough fleed her from her thoughts.

she stayed in position, her back facing Cardan and only gripping the knife resting on her waist, "now what would the prince need at a time like this? Should he not be in his humble abode by now?"

"Should you not be with your lover boy? Or is it that you enjoy using people like he does?" His tone was hostile as he spat his words, however the light softness that rippled around it was evident and Y/N couldn't help her lips tugging upwards.

She turned around, staring at him — where he leaned cooly against one of the walls — with squinted eyes, faux contempt present in her stare, and he shifted in his spot at her gaze.

She swiftly walked, her steps careful as to not trip on her dress. And when she reached him, she, boldly, placed her hands on his chest, dragging it downwards firmly — and his thumping heart beneath his rib cage could be faintly heard from the short proximity between them.

Y/N titled her head when he clenched his fists, but found a smile etching on her lips when his eyes were lightly fluttering. "Do I really threaten you that much that your hatred towards me is the only thing that keeps you going? It's pathetic truly, especially for a prince."

Cardan gulped, mind hazy at the contact and his body was supported by his tail, that was wrapped roughly around one of his legs. He could not utter the next words without stroking her ego, and it was then he'd wished — though he'd never admit out loud — that he were mortal, because he needed to lie if not keep his mouth shut.

More so with her trapping him, her knees coming forward and slightly spreading his legs, so that the entirety of his body leaned upon the wall. And despite him towering over her due to one of her legs bending in-front of the other, he could not move, catching sight of the shiny blade securely placed on her hips and her rigid grasp on them.

She had been around a certain mortal for too long, he thought, and at that his sneer was present again.

Y/N gently bit her tongue to stifle the giggle from escaping her, "what, cat's got your tongue?"

His lips were tightly sealed, and though he already knew the effects she displayed were affecting him, greatly, he refused to acknowledge her — especially that any movement could cause his legs to move slightly forward and brush . . .

She shook her head with a light hearted laugh that had his heart beating just a little bit faster, just a little bit. Her hands releasing the grip she had on her blade, before placing it on his cheek and patting him smoothly.

"You're quite humorous you know, would be a shame if you wasted all that energy on 'hating' me when it could be used for something else, you decide, my prince." she said, her tone sensual and low, before gradually stepping away allowing room (only a small amount at that) for the boy before her to breathe, she let one of her fingers crawl delicately on his hollow cheek bones, that though looked sharp, were as soft as anything could be.

Cardan's eyes widened ever so slightly, now registering her words, "are you flirting with me?" He asked. The space between them now slightly obvious, and he hated it — almost as much as he pretends to loathe her.

Y/N raised her brows, crossing her arms in an unlikely childish manner before nodding, "you're quite oblivious you know? Yes."

"Well," the confirmation enabled a smirk to appear on his face, only to be dismissed by her voice, again.

"Well? Is that all? Because I have things to do, and if my offer does not interest you then I'll gladly leave and find another willing volunteer," she purred, ignoring the way his brows harshly and quickly furrowed, creating a crease, "how about Locke? We are reasonably close, and he does not have a tail — which looks a bit foolish, don't you think?"

He was blushing crimson now, red sparklings littering his pale cheeks, but then his lips curled up — however, he does not look as frighting as he's expecting to be, he knew that, especially with her knees still resting between his thighs (which is all he's trying to drift his mind from at the moment).

"I don't see anything off with it, I've been told it makes one interesting. You've spent too much time with mortals and those alike." Cardan's jaw clenched and his chest was rising a lot more than it was a few minutes before.

Y/N pursed her lips, "Well then, show me how interesting one can get." She leaned forward, her breath fanning atop his lips and he found his own hitching.

His eyes were wandering from her eyes, which he secretly adored, to her lips, and he subconsciously nodded, leaning forward.

Only then, her hands rested on his chest, pushing him away slightly and his head came in contact with the wall yet again, and he had to bite his bottom lips in hopes that she had no idea how much he’d needed her, all of her.

Y/N stepped backwards, finally standing straight. Her hands on her side once more and she gave the prince an alluring smile, "I'll see you later, cardan."

He glared at the spot she had been standing in once she’d left, and he knew that it was a silly game she’s playing.

And what is a game if it involves one player?

[itsthestutterforme]

The Damaged 1/2 (Johnny Storm x reader)

Summary: Y/N and Johnny were dating in college and he broke things off even when he didn't want to. He thought he was moving too fast with you and it turns out you were the person he was meant to be with. Four years later and everything has changed. Almost everything.

Notes: GIF is not mine, angst, mentions of suicide attempts, mentions of depression, dark themes (if any of these trigger you, please do not read. take care of yourselves.)

--

"There we go, sweetheart." Johnny whispers into your ear as he strums your clit with his fingers. Your legs were dangling from his shoulders and his face was buried into your neck as he thrusts in deep but slow. He slows his hips, earning a whine in protest for you. Which he soon muffles by recking your pussy with hard thrusts.

It was almost like he was moving to a song in his head and made you see stars. He rubs your clit faster than his hips were moving and a loud wail leaves your lips.

"That's it, let go for me. Cum all over my dick," you moan at his words and inhale sharply when you finally reach your peak.

In a few thrusts he cums and pulls out of you slowly. He moved to leave the bed but turns around to plant a warm kiss that you both hum into. "Hmm, I'm really going to miss this." He pulls away from the bed of his own dorm room and tosses the condom in the trash bin.

He pulls on his boxers and joggers when you ask, "What do you mean 'miss'?" You cover yourself with the bed sheets and sit up against the wall. "What happened?" You add. "Nothing happened, Y/N. It's just.. I found someone more interesting. You know, more substance."

"You... cheated on me?" "Not technically, I mean, we didn't do anything yet. I have enough respect for you to do that." "But you were seeing her while we were still together." "We weren't technically together either," "I don't understand. I.. when I asked you if you wanted to make these official, you said sure."

"Right, well. There's something called post nut clarity and-" he pulls on his tank top and advances towards you.

"Oh my God," you run you fingers through your hair. How could you have been so stupid to fall for a playboy? You ask yourself. "I'll give you sometime to process. I'll be back in an hour with her so I suggest you move everything out by then."

"Just so you know, you're perfect. Everything about you is perfect and it has nothing to do with you. It's just.. we're twenty one years old, we still have a life to live. And we're too young to be settling down." He explains, sitting down next to you on the bed. You were done talking for the day.

You wiped away a tear before it could hit your cheek and you avoid his gaze. You hated that you were crying in front of him. "I'll be out before then," you mumble so he would leave the room. He nods and brushes a few stray hairs from your face. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to kiss you forever.

He felt comfortable with you and he hasn't felt comfortable with anyone. But he'll never forgive himself if he misses out on a grand opportunity by choosing to settle down with you. It's college. Nothing is set in stone. He hesitantly leaves the room and you slide to the edge of the bed.

Tears blur your vision and you push your hair away from your face harshly. "Damn it," you scold as you pull on your underwear while in search for your bra. Your walls were starting to crumble but you wanted to at least get out of his room before you break down.

Shaky breathes leave your lips while you tried to hold back your tears. Johnny was still on the other side of the door, listening to your struggling to find your clothes. He silently cursed himself. He ruined a really good thing but maybe it was for the best. You deserved someone better than him anyway.

You finally find all of your clothes and you clear out your drawer you had in his dresser and his bathroom. You looked at your reflection in the mirror and hated what you saw. Your eyes and nose were red from irritation. "You'll be okay, Y/N." You tried to encourage yourself but it was useless.

Johnny hears you scramble to pack things away near the door and took it his cue to leave. He hid behind a wall and watches as you opened the door with your duffle bag hanging from your shoulder. You used a clip to bring your hair up and held a tight grip on your keys.

You practically run out of his dorm building and into the parking garage. Without a second thought, you pull out drive to the only place you feel safe: home. You didn't care if it was a 2 hour drive.

"Y/N? What's wrong honey? You've been crying." Your mom says when she opens the door to see you on her door step.

"He lied, he never cared about me. He was just using me until he found someone else." You croak, walking into her arms.

The pain you felt was unimaginable and it took more of a toll on you than you cared to admit. Many nights you cried yourself to sleep or screamed yourself awake with nightmares.

You dropped out of school. Your parents went to your dorm to get your stuff and Johnny was walking back from the gym when he saw their car. He was going to go into the building to say hi but he realized that you probably told them everything and they hated his guts.

Little did your parents know that you were rummaging through their medicine cabinet to find a full bottle of meds. You stared down at the bottles in your hands with blurred vision from your tears.

"Y/N no," you heard a voice say in your head. "I'll never be enough for people. They'll always choose someone else instead of me." You croak.

"It'll be quick, painless." You tell yourself with a nod. You stare at yourself in the mirror once again. The fresh cut across your eye was from the freak accident when you tried to give yourself a buzz cut. It was going to be an ugly scar that you would spend every day covering with make up.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

You think about that day- that time in your life- more times that you can admit. It makes you grateful for where you came from. The doctors say it's a miracle that you survived that long.

You barely had a heart beat. Your mother thinks that it was your heart fighting with your mind to survive. And my mind won. You were sent to a mental health hospital for six months after that incident.

Four years later, you earned your bachelor's degree in Journalism and was practically a sho in for the biggest newspaper in New York: the New York Times. "Y/N will be gaining the intel for the Space Shuttle hosted by Victor Von Doom." "What? She's just started. Are you sure she can handle such a big headline?"

"She's right here, and yes I am. I fought just as hard to get here, Wyatt. Not all of us are trust fund play boys." You snap. "She can obviously hold her own. Moving on to the entertainment.."

She continued to assign other journalist their beat topic while I scroll through the essential scientists and pilots. Your heart raced in your chest when you saw Johnny Storm under primary pilot.

Oh God. "Is there a problem, Y/N?" Your editor-in-chief asks. You look around to notice that everyone else had already left the room except you. "Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking about the questions to ask." "You'll ace this. Don't let the pressure get to you." She consoles. "I won't,"

**

"Wait Y/N is the reporter that's coming with us?" Johnny asks, trailing after Sue. "Yes," "Wh- did she ask to be apart of it?" "I don't know Johnny. Probably not. Education is her beat and its a big article. She probably doesn't even know you're apart of it." "But what if she does. She's still hates me because of what I did."

"It's been four years, Johnny. I hardly think she's still thinking about you." "Isn't that what you said about Reed?" "Watch it," "I'm just saying, some relationships are harder to let go than others..." Johnny says and Sue turns around to face him.

"Oh my God, you loved her." Sue says in disbelief. "I thought I would never see the day." She adds. "Great. I'm glad you're getting a kick out of this, Sue."

"Right, sorry. I just.. just don't anything to provoke her and everything will be fine. Don't bring up what happened. Focus on the interview." She suggests.

"Ms. Y/L/N, right this way." Victor greets and Johnny looks at Sue with wide eyes. "Focus," Sue reprimands. "Y/N, hi! I'm Sue Storm, one of the scientists behind this event. This is my brother, Johnny Storm, the primary pilot." Johnny takes some time to take you in.

You look completely different than the last time he saw you. He noticed the scar on your right eye and you tattoo peeking out from your rolled sleeves. You wear a black button up, high waisted beige dress pants and black heels. Your hair is cut into a layer bob that is a few inches passed your chin.

You have two messenger bags, one for you notes and laptop and the other for your camera and photographs. "Nice to meet you all. Where is Mister Richards and Mister Grimm?"

"Oh they are getting changed. Speaking of getting changed, I recommend you change into your suit because we hit the air."

"I wasn't aware I had to wear a suit," "It's just to track your vitals and regulate your body temperature. It's better to be safe than sorry." Sue explains. "Of course, I understand." "Johnny can show you the dress room," Sue adds, shoving Johnny forward.

"Right, follow me." Johnny instructs after a long pause. You follow him to the women's dressing room and you scratch at the band of your messenger bag, something you did when you were nervous. The entire walk there was silent and tenious.

He would look away when you would look at him and vice versa. You finally arrive at the dressing room and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. "You look.. different. You look good." he compliments, lingering outside of the dressing room.

"Uh, thank you..." you trail off. You take a deep breath and had full intentions on keeping things professional, not whatever this was. "Right, so I was going to interview Victor first, then Sue, you, Ben and Reed. In that order."

"Okay," he opens his mouth again to say something but stops himself. He spins on his heel and strolls back to the room where you left. Well, it could have been worse, you think to yourself.

You wore the suit underneath your casual clothes but every movement felt heavy because of the extra clothes. The interviews were throuogh and lasted about seven minutes each, except for Johnny of course. You knew that it would be challenging to stay professional with Johnny expecially since he is known for being anything but.

He leans his feet on the table next to your notepad and tucks his arms behind his head as he watched you flip to a new page of your notepad. At least he's getting more comfortable about your prescence.

You don't know whether that was good or a bad thing. You ask your first question while looking down at your notepad, waiting for an answer. When you don't hear one, you look up with a furrowed brow. "Is everything alright?" you ask.

"Did you know that I was going to be on this mission? Is that why you took it?" he asks abruptly. You set your pen down and link your hands together.

You take a deep breath before saying, "Believe it or not, Mister Storm, the entire world does not revolve around you." "Mister Storm? Ouch." "I'm going to move onto the next ques-"

"What happened to your eye?" "Mister Storm, if you're not going to answer my questions then I will move onto B-" "Who did your hair? Your mom? It looks good." he interupts again.

You scoff at his childish actions. You couldn't believe that you were ever involved with this man child. Nipping at your bottom lip angrily, you stand from your place at the table.

"We're done here," you begin to pack up your things but his warm hands stop you. You pull away from him instantly. "Mister Storm," you start. "My name is Johnny," "Despite how you view me, I actually care about formalities."

His body sinks at your words and he looks to the side, clenching his jaw with anger. "If I told you that I regret everything, would you believe me?" "No, I wouldn't. Because that's just something you tell yourself so you can feel like less of an asshole about what you did."

"I really thought that after all these years, you could at least try to be professional about things. But I guess I was wrong." you add with a scoff.

"I.. I'm sorry," his blue eyes shining with softness. "You're only sorry because you realized how much of a catch you really lost. We're done here, Mister Storm." "Take off is in t minus 10 minutes, please take your place in your seats," a woman announces over the intercom.

"Y/N," he starts. "If you don't have anything to say about the interview or about the mission, then don't talk to me, Johnny. And that's the last time I'll call you by that name."

With that, you tuck your belongings into the messenger bag and leave the room. You gather plenty of information between all of the interviews but you spent a great deal taking front page worthy pictures.

Johnny would steal glances in your direction while you were busy looking at your photos on the camera. "Looking at her won't fix anything you know," Ben tells Johnny. "Just focus on replacing those flowers, alright." Johnny grumbles.

You took pictures of Johnny teasing Ben, Sue and Reed conversing and single shots of Victor. You were in the middle of taking a picture of the Earth an obscure angle when sirens started to go off and the hall was illuminating red lights.

"Oh God," you hear Reed say. "Please don't say that, what's happening?" "There's a storm heading straight towards us." "Oh my God, a-are we safe in here or what? How do you protect ourselves from the radiation?" you ask but he was too busy analyzing the traits of the storm.

You shriek when you felt the ship shaking from a forceful impact. The next thing you knew, you were pulled into someone's embrace and fell to the floor with them ontop of you. Your head smacks against the hard tile of the floor and everything faded away into darkness.

**

Keeping your eyes closed, you flip from your stomach to your side with a deep sigh. Your temples were throbbing to the point of skull spliting pain. The sharp pain travels to your eyes and distracts you from realizing that you heard a swarm of voices arounf you.

"Guys, I think she's waking up." Reed says. You wince at the intensity of the pain and press a shaky hand on your forehead. "Does anybody have an Tylenol," you croak.

"Y/N, open your eyes for me, please." Reed instructs. Your eyes slowly peel open but soon close when you see a bright light invading your eyes. A muffled gasp echoes throughout the room.

"The light hurts my eyes. I'm having a migraine." Their voices were fading in and out like someone was clamping and removing their hands from your ears. "My head hurts," you say and everyone went quiet. "Sue, get the doctor," Reed says. "A doctor? Why? What's happening?"

"Guys, stop it. You're freaking her out," Johnny mediates. You notice a significant change in lighting through the crack of your eye lids. "Can you open your eyes again? I turned the light off," Reed says and you comply.

Everything looks blurry, you could barely make out who was in front of you. "What can you see?" Reed asks. "Not much, everything is blurry." you answer, whining from the pounding of your migraine.

"Y/N, I hate to say this, but you're not having a migraine. You're having a symptom of the storm that hit us a few days ago. It somehow altered our DNA and-" "Wait a minute, you said ' a few days ago'? What day is it?"

"It's November 16th," "Oh my God, my deadline is today," you say turning to the side of what looks like bedside. You swing one leg over the edge of the bed one leg at a time. "Whoa, whoa. Take it easy." Johnny starts.

"Doctor, in here." Sue says and the doctor follows Sue into your room. "Can you check her vitals and give her some pain killers for the time? She says she has a migraine. "Oh of course I- Oh God," you hear a thump soon after. "Well he was usless," Johnny starts.

"I have to go," you start. "You can't go anywhere, Y/N. You can't see." Johnny explains. You could tell by the magnitude of his voice that he was in front of you. "All I need to do is call my parents and use voice typing for my article." "How are you going to use your notes if you can't see?"

"I'll figure something out," you stand from the bed and he gently pushes you back down. "What the hell, Johnny?" You snap. "It's not safe," you stand from the bed and shove him backwards. As soon as you touched him, the searing pain went away. A series of images made its way into your vision.

There was something familiar about the images. Your heart sank when you realized that they were your memories. Then another set of images showed side by side. They were Johnny's memories for that day. And the images just as fast as they came. Your eyes to focus on your surroundings and you sigh softly.

"Johnny! What did you do to him?!" Sue says, kneeling by Johnny's side. Your eyes fell to Johnny's body sitting up against the wall with his eyes glowing an opal white for a moment before it slowly fades away.

He must have saw the memories you were seeing. "Johnny?" Sue says and his gaze settles on you. He saw them. He stands from the floor and you step away from him.

"It doesn't matter, okay? I can see better so I can focus on submitting my article and forget everything that happened here." You rush out of the room and Reed calls after you.

"Leave her be. She's gone." Johnny say, his voice flat as he processes everything he just saw. "We can't do that, she could do whatever she did to you, to someone else." Sue explains.

"She didn't hurt me, she just showed me her memories. I don't think her power can hurt anybody." Johnny explains. "What did you see?" Reed asks. Johnny looks at him for a moment before leaving the room himself.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.