#Its a great song! Really got to me at the right time

[hajihiko]

🎵Talk me down!🎵

[wabbitears]

feddy movie

[so-you-melted-22]

I need someone who knows how to make edits to make a soapghost one to Johnny by Stereo Total because that song just fits so well and i can't edit for the life of me

[friend-dispenser]

Just realized I wrote these tags in their own post not in a reblog of the post I was trying to add them to!!!!!! Ugh!!!!!

AND I LOST THE POST!!!!!

It basically went like "I'm sick of hearing about taylor swift. Tag the most obscure band you listen to." If anyone comes across it please let me know cause I wanted to look through the notes again in a week or two! And also share my tags!

[imaginedisish]

Unchained Melody (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry again. Here is the *what if you and Logan went to a wedding together* request. Heavily inspired by "Unchained Melody." That is such a Logan song and you cannot tell me otherwise. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan decide to go to Rogue and Remy's wedding together, but you don't know what together means. Logan helps to clarify...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT, thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), softdom!Logan, praise kink, cocky!Logan (literally), multiple orgasms, aftercare, Logan will do anything for you, afab!reader/f!reader, reader wears a dress, reader has hair (length/color/texture not described), feelings, so fluffy and cheesy, cursing, Scott is a little shit, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,452 I wanna dance with Logan

Maybe this was a mistake. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning around and around. You scan your face, check your hair, and smooth out your dress. Everything is in its right place. But, maybe, just maybe, this is all a mistake. 

You and Logan—somehow—came to the decision that you would go to Rogue and Remy’s wedding together. As in…

Together. 

And yet, you weren’t entirely sure what together truly entailed. Was this going to be a date? Or were you two simply going as friends? Friends friends friends. That god-awful, misery-inducing word you’re all too familiar with. Its meaning and restrictions haunted you as you got ready, and they’re still plaguing you now. You are so incredibly sick of being just friends with Logan. You want more—want him, all of him. But you can’t tell him how you feel—you can never find the words or the courage. 

So, you’re simply going to the wedding together, unlabeled out of fear of getting an answer you don’t want to hear. 

You slip on your heels, straightening out your gown one last time before heading towards the door. You take a deep breath, nervous beyond belief. You twist the knob, pulling the door open. 

And there he is on the other side, fist clenched like he was about to knock. Logan. He’s wearing a black suit, a bowtie tied perfectly at his neck. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Hi,” he husks, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He smiles softly as he meets your gaze. He shakes his head in awe. “You look beautiful.” 

“Oh, please I—” But he cuts you off, his hand reaching out to rest in the crook of your neck. “Really, you look beautiful. You always do.” Your breath hitches as his hand slides down your arm, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed by the contact and Logan’s words. “You look really great too,” you choke out, a slight tremble in your voice. “Perfect,” you say, and Logan tugs your hand, guiding you out the door and into the hallway.

Rogue had told you the wedding would be small—just her and Gambit’s closest friends and family on the grounds of the institute.  

Logan leads you down the stairs and out the back door of the mansion. The first thing you see are flowers; an absolute abundance of flowers. There are lilies and irises, asters and chrysanthemums. Daises, tulips, every single flower one can imagine—adorning tables, white tents, and planted in pots and boxes. It’s beautiful—a rainbow of colors and fragrances. The lawn has been transformed into a secret garden. 

Logan guides you down a cobblestone path toward a trellis covered in vines and wisteria. Surrounding the trellis on either side are rows of white, wooden chairs. You and Logan walk to the front row on Rogue’s side of the aisle and sit down next to Storm, Charles, and Jubilee.  You wave as you sit down. “You look amazing!” Jubilee shouts, reaching over Charles and Logan to get a better look at your dress. 

“You look beautiful too, Jubes,” you say, motioning in her direction. Logan sits back, slipping his hand from yours and draping his arm over your shoulder instead. Jubilee notices the movement, her eyes flickering between you and Logan, a small smile playing upon her lips. She winks at you and settles back into her seat. 

Footsteps sweep through the grass as people find their chairs. You struggle to ignore the warmth of Logan’s arm around your shoulder and the way it makes you feel—the soft circles he’s drawing into your bare skin. It’s like he needs the proximity, needs the touch. 

You can feel Logan lean in, his lips at the shell of your ear. “You are the most—”

“Wow,” a familiar voice interrupts Logan. You turn your head, and there’s Scott, with Jean just a few steps behind him. “Didn’t expect that.” He raises his brows and cocks his head to the side. 

“You need something, bub?” Logan asks, annoyance and irritation heavy in his voice. 

Scott swallows nervously as Jean chuckles behind him. He shakes his head and sits down next to you. “Nope, I just…” He trails off, looking towards the trellis. 

Logan leans forward, his arm still around your shoulder. “You just what?”

Scott throws his hands up, feigning innocence. “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Logan leans back, squeezing your shoulder gently as he settles into the seat. You turn towards him, catching his gaze. You need to ask him what this is, even if it’s clear to him. It’s obviously something to everyone else. You part your lips, finding the courage to finally ask Logan what you two are. “Logan,” you whisper so only he can hear. “What is—"  

But the music starts up, a whimsical rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” filling the air as Hank walks down the aisle, stopping underneath the trellis. Next is Remy, in a cream-colored suit. He grins from ear to ear as he trails down the aisle, nodding to Charles as he steps under the arch. And finally, at the end of the aisle is Rogue. Her dress is bright white, lacey, and tight. She walks down, her bouquet of lilies of the valley and baby’s breath in hand. 

She meets Remy’s side, and the music stops. “Friends and family,” Hank starts, smiling widely at the crowd. “We have gathered here today for the marriage of two people who should have been married long ago.” The crowd chuckles as Hank goes on. “But it is always better late than never…”

He continues, talking about their story, their love. Hank—naturally—finds a few Shakespeare quotes to scatter throughout his speech. It’s incredibly cheesy, but it’s beautiful. And, as Remy and Rogue exchange vows, you can’t help but well up. Their admiration and passion for one another is so undeniably clear. They’re committed, a team, partners until the end. 

“I will always love you, chere,” Remy says, slipping the ring onto Rogue’s finger. 

A single tear slides down Rogue’s cheek. “And I will always love you, sugar,” Rogue says, placing the ring in her hand onto Remy’s finger next. 

You look up at Logan, and you notice that he’s looking down at you. There’s something in his eyes, but you can’t quite place it. He tugs you closer, his thumb still stroking your shoulder. 

Hank sniffles. “With the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Hank says, his voice shaky, his eyes glossed over, holding back tears. “You may now kiss the bride!” 

Remy wraps his arms around Rogue’s waist, and he dips her, his lips capturing hers. Everyone stands, clapping and cheering. You and Logan stand too, his arm falling from your shoulder, leaving you feeling cold despite the summer heat.

But as Rogue and Remy walk down the aisle, Logan’s arm wraps around your waist.  Rogue’s smile widens when she spots you, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. She laughs knowingly. Finally, she mouths to you, and blows you a kiss. The couple finishes their walk down the aisle, and they head into a nearby tent.  

Given that this is Rogue and Remy, the party starts right away. Music blares from the tent, and you can see the happy couple hitting the floor. You recognize the song immediately: “Take on Me” by Aha. Jean drags Scott across the grass to join them. Jubilee and some of the other kids trail behind. Charles, Storm, and Hank head over together. 

You look at Logan and smile, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him towards the tent. You can’t remember the last time you saw everyone this happy. It’s rare that you get to let loose, to have a good time. It warms your heart to see all the students dancing, to see them having a normal childhood experience. 

“Come on!” Jubilee calls. “Come dance!” She’s twirling around, dancing with Kurt and Morph, sparking her signature fireworks every now and then.

You squeeze Logan’s hand and pull him towards the dance floor. You’re shocked that he doesn’t drag his heels, that he doesn’t protest or tell you no—he lets you tug him onto the floor. You turn to face him, swaying to the synthy pop. Logan lifts his arm, twirling you around, laughing as you spin back to him. He grabs your other hand and bounces with you to the music.

“I didn’t know you liked dancing!” You shout over the song as Logan spins you again. 

He smirks, chuckling softly. “I don’t!” He shouts back, pulling you in and out to the beat. “But I like dancing with you.” He draws you in closer, letting go of your hands as his arms wrap around your waist instead.

You can feel the heat rising to your chest, spreading up your neck. The song fades out, and a much slower one starts up. “Something” by The Beatles echoes across the lawn. Rogue and Remy take the center of the floor, and everyone steps off, watching from the side. Logan guides you off the floor and towards your table, his hand in yours again.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmur. You see the way Remy looks at Rogue, the way they move as one, fluid unit. “Don’t you want something like that?” You ask, your gaze finding Logan’s. He has that look in his eyes again—all soft, relaxed, happy. 

Logan nods, squeezing your hand. “I think I’ve found it already.” 

Your lips part as you rack your brain for the right thing to say, your breath catching in your throat. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted—the words you’ve been waiting to hear. “Logan I—”

But Jubilee is grabbing your hand as the song changes. “If you’re not gonna dance with my girl, then I’m stealing her!” Jubilee calls out to Logan, pulling you onto the floor as “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli rings out. 

“Jubes,” you protest. “Logan and I were actually talking about something kind of important and—”

“One song?” She begs, frowning, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. You look over at Logan, and he’s still standing where you left him, smiling widely. Dance with her, he mouths, arching his brows expectantly. 

“Fine,” you say, still looking at Logan. 

Jubilee cheers, taking your hands in hers, spinning you around. You jump with her, screaming the words. Logan watches from his seat. He loves the way you move, the way you shake your hips, the way you throw your head back and laugh. He can see how much fun you’re having, how happy you are. He can’t keep his eyes off you, can’t help but be mesmerized. And he knows—just by watching—that he wants to be with you forever. Longer than that. You’ve changed him, made him different. And all for the better. 

You look over at him, his arms crossed against his chest as his eyes follow your every move. He’s smiling widely, clearly getting a kick out of you. 

“He loves you, you know,” Jubilee says, twirling you. “I mean, just look at how he’s looking at you!” Jubilee smirks, nodding towards Logan. Her eyes widen. “I think he’s coming over here!”

“Jubes…” Logan chides as he steps closer to the two of you. “Think I can cut in?”

“I don’t know Logan,” Jubilee says sarcastically, grinning ear to ear. “We’re having a great time.”

Logan puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’d like my girl back now.” 

My girl. His girl. 

Jubilee lifts her hands, stepping away from you as the song fades out. “Fine,” she says, pretending to be heartbroken. “Guess I’ll just have to give her up.” Logan steps between the two of you, and you lean to the side to peer at Jubilee as she walks away. She catches your glance, thrusting two thumbs up, mouthing a You got this! as she wanders to her seat. 

“Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers starts up, and Logan wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. The sun is setting in the distance, a honeyed glow washing across the lawn, painting the tent and the dance floor in golden light. Logan sways you from side to side, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. 

His lips find the shell of your ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers so that only you can hear. 

“Lo, before, when we were watching Remy and Rogue…” you pause, lifting your head to look up at him. 

The corners of his mouth turn up. “I meant what I said,” Logan rasps. “I want you.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Just you.”

“I want you too,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. Logan holds you tighter, his lips just inches away from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your face. 

“Wanted you the whole time,” Logan husks, rocking you gently as the song plays out. “You’re all I ever think about. I can’t get through a day without seeing you, without talking to you.” He pauses as the music grows louder, the strings and piano echoing across the dance floor.

Woah, my love, my darling I've hungered, hungered for your touch A long, lonely time And time goes by so slowly And time can do so much Are you still mine?

“You feel like home,” he says, his eyes glossing over. “I’ve been alive a long time, and for once in my life, I finally understand what that word means. It’s you. This is what love is supposed to feel like.” He pauses again, taking a deep breath, his jaw working. “I love you, so goddamn much.”

“I love you too,” you confess. “More than anything.” 

And then his lips are on yours, and suddenly everything is nothing. The people around you are gone. Your problems have long melted away. Every ounce of pain and every second of suffering you’ve ever felt—that he has ever experienced—are forgotten. It’s all warmth and comfort, languid and slow, but passionate. He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. It’s perfect. Beyond perfect. 

His lips part from yours, and he looks down at you, taking you in, committing the moment to memory. “Pretty girl,” Logan mumbles, tugging you off the floor as the song fades out and a pop song starts up. “What if we slipped away for a few minutes?” 

“O-okay,” you stutter as Logan guides you past your table and out of the tent. The bass of the music echoes across the lawn as you and Logan wander hand in hand toward the mansion.  

He pushes the back door open, leading the two of you inside, and immediately pins you against the wall. “This okay, sweetheart?” Logan asks, holding your hands above your head, his fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists. 

“Yes,” you breathe, your chest heaving against his. He closes the gap between you completely, his lips pressing to yours. It’s hurried now, hungry and frantic. His knee nudges between your legs, spreading you open. You can feel the fire burning in your core—the growing ache. 

You squirm underneath him, your arms fidgeting against his hold, longing to reach out and touch him. “Wanna make you feel good first, princess,” Logan soothes, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Let me take care of you.” You can’t help but grind down on his thigh at his words. 

“Lo,” you whine, searching for more friction. “Please, need you.” Logan swallows your moans with a kiss, his lips melting against yours. “I know, darlin’. I need you too,” he coos. “But I like watching you get off on my thigh,” he says cockily. “That feel good?” He pushes his thigh harder between your legs as you slide up and down. 

“Y-yes,” you stammer, rolling your hips. “N-need more.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Logan whispers, leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, softly biting that sweet spot underneath your ear. “Gonna make this pussy feel good.” He lets go of your wrists as he slides down your body, hiking your dress up above your hips as he kneels in front of you.

Logan yanks your panties down your legs, leaving your core bare in front of him. “Wanna taste you, pretty girl,” he husks, his breath fanning against your heat as he settles between your thighs. 

“Please,” you beg, his face just centimeters from where you need him most. His palms splay across your inner thighs, squeezing and nudging you open. You look down at him, hunger, desire, and desperation darkening his half-lidded eyes. “Lo—”

And then he’s licking a long stripe through your folds, his tongue flicking your clit. You shudder underneath his touch as he does it again, his tongue pressing harder this time. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” Logan mumbles against you. “Knew you’d taste perfect.” He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks, his teeth grazing the bud lightly. Your knees buckle at the sensation. 

Logan pushes your legs further apart, one of his hands sliding up your thigh and toward your center. It’s teasing, achingly slow as his fingers finally reach your folds, toying with your slit and spreading your slick. He laps at your clit, and he’s desperate, ravenous, his mouth swallowing you hungrily.

He teases your entrance with two fingers—gentle compared to the way his teeth graze your clit, to the way he’s sucking every last drop you have to give him. You part your lips, ready to beg for him, but he’s thrusting his long fingers inside you—down to his knuckles—only to pull out and pump back in again. 

You moan his name, your back arching off the wall, your thighs trembling as he fucks into you. Logan smiles against you. “That feel good, pretty girl?” He asks, his fingers pumping in and out of your entrance at a rhythmic pace.

“S-so good, Logan,” you say, your voice shaky and uneven. His tongue flits out, flicking your clit before his lips wrap around the bud. He sucks again, harder this time, longer, his face buried deep inside your cunt, like he needs this. Needs to feel every inch of you. To explore you. To remember you. Your heart thunders in your chest as he thrusts in and out, his fingers hitting that sweet spot deep inside every time. 

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him, taking him deeper. Logan laughs against you, the vibration rolling through your body in waves. “I know you’re getting closer, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, lapping at you between sentences. He looks up at you under those dark, hooded eyes as he plunges into you. “Let me get you there, wanna taste it when you come.”

You flutter around him again, his words threatening to spill the heat building at the bottom of your belly. “Lo,” you whimper as he brings a third finger to your entrance. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, say my name,” he demands, shoving the third finger deep inside on his next pump. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, your legs shaking as you chant his name. Logan Logan Logan. 

“So fucked out that I’m all you can think about, huh?” Logan teases, edging you closer along. You moan in affirmation as Logan laves at you, stuffing his fingers deep inside. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises. “Doing so good for me.”

“L-Lo,” you choke out, clenching down around him. “I’m so close.”

You can feel yourself coming undone, melting into nothingness as he rams into you, sucking your clit roughly. “I know, princess. Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

Your hips buck and your legs tremble as you fall apart. Your orgasm crashes into you, pleasure coursing through your veins. Logan works you through it, his face still buried between your legs. His tongue laps at you softly, his fingers pumping slowly until they stall inside you. 

His gaze meets yours as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt and brings them to his mouth. His lips wrap around his fingers, and he sucks, savoring your release. He pulls his fingers out with a pop as he stands up. 

Logan presses his forehead to yours. “You know, there’s something else I want,” Logan says, his voice deep and raspy. “I’m not done with you yet.” He cages you in, a hand on either side of your head. 

“W-we need to be careful,” you stammer, nodding towards the door. “Someone could come in and—” Logan cuts you off. “Locked it the second we came inside, sweetheart,” Logan whispers, grabbing your dress and bunching it up around your waist. “No one’s coming in here. It’s just you and me, princess.” Logan pushes his hips into yours, and you can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his slacks. “Need you, darlin’.”

You wrap your arms around Logan’s back. “Need you too,” you pant. Logan’s lips find yours, crashing down needily, starvingly. He swallows your moans, one hand still collecting the fabric of your dress while his other tugs at his belt. He throws it to the floor with a clink and works at his button and zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs. He hoists you up, one hand gripping your ass tightly, pushing your back against the wall for leverage.

“Fuck,” Logan curses, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance. Everything is rushed and frantic. He needs to be inside you, needs to feel you, needs to be as close to you as possible. His head slides through your folds, spreading your slick. “Wanted this for so long,” Logan huffs, his tip slipping into your slit. “My girl.”

With one thrust, he sinks himself deep inside you—down to the hilt. You’re suddenly so full, so whole. “Yours,” you answer as he pulls out and thrusts back in, somehow deeper this time. He’s everywhere and he’s everything. “All yours.”

Logan curses under his breath, panting your name as he sets a brutal pace. “Mine,” he growls between placing open-mouthed kisses to the crook of your neck. “All fucking mine.” His free hand slips between your bodies, finding your clit and drawing tight, rapid circles around the bud. 

You dig your nails into his suit jacket as he splits you open. You want to feel him—to feel his skin, his chest pressed against yours. But this will have to do for now. 

“Next time,” he mumbles, knowing exactly what you’re silently asking for. “You can have more of me next time, okay sweetheart?”

Next time. The words replay in your head as he fucks into you, taking everything you have to give. He knows you so well, already knows every curve and inch of your body, knows your dreams and desires. You fit, like two puzzle pieces, like magnets finally drawing together. 

His thumb brushes your clit soothingly before pinching roughly, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. Logan thrusts in and out, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the foyer. 

“Feels so good, pretty girl,” Logan groans. “So fucking perfect, so tight.” Your walls flutter around him, and he grunts as you squeeze him. “Taking me so well.” 

You’re already close, every thrust bringing you to the edge, every flick of your clit sending you spiraling. It’s all too much. And it’s all because of him. 

“Lo,” you whine, his hips rocking into yours, his cock dragging along your walls. “I’m so…” You trail off, squeezing him again, taking him deeper. 

He moans your name, sinking inside you and pulling back out. “I know, princess, me too,” he murmurs, his pace faltering, his hips sputtering. “Come on my cock, wanna feel it,” he pants. “Wanna feel you. Forever.”

And then the tension snaps, heat spilling out of you as Logan thrusts again. He’s throbbing inside you, close behind. Pleasure pulses through your body, wave after wave. You wrap your legs tighter around Logan’s waist, keeping him close as he spills inside you, filling you up. He chants your name, his forehead pressing to yours, looking deep into your eyes as he comes undone.

Your chests heave together, sharing the same breath. His cock is still inside you. Everything is calm. Quiet. “So perfect,” Logan breathes, his lips finding yours again. “So fucking perfect.” He finally slips out of you and sets you down on the ground, keeping your dress bunched up around your waist. 

He leans over to the side, grabs a paper towel from a conveniently placed nearby roll, and sinks down to his knees. He’s cleaning you up, taking care of you, wiping away the mess spilling down your legs. He pulls your panties back up and kisses each of your thighs before standing and tossing the paper towel into the garbage by the door. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting your dress go. He fixes each of your straps, straightening them out, and smooths out your dress. “Beautiful,” he praises, swallowing harshly, as if he’s holding himself back from reaching out and taking you again. Part of you wishes he would.

But he bends over and pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking in his shirt, zippering and buttoning his slacks, and securing his belt back in place. He’s still a little disheveled—sweat on his brow, his hair out of place. But he looks perfect. He looks just like him. 

“You ready to go back out?” He asks, taking your hand in his. You nod and let him lead you outside and towards the tent. 

You find your seats just as dinner is being served. “Where’d you two go?” Scott asks, arching a brow. 

“Got a little too hot,” Logan says, smirking to himself. He finds your thigh under the table, squeezing gently, possessively. “Needed a break from the heat.”

You hum in affirmation, turning your head towards Logan. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “That’s one way to put it,” you whisper so that only he can hear. 

He squeezes your thigh again, harder this time. His lips find the shell of your ear as the rest of the table starts up a conversation. “You’re coming back to my room tonight,” he husks. “Got it?” You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he separates from you. 

You nod, his hand still on your thigh. 

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @starfleetteddybear @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @cosmiccandydreamer @Movhoney.

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ make it known (op81)

You and Oscar have been friends for almost two decades and it’s been smooth sailing, except for now—when you have to make it publically known you're pining for him to even notice.

oscar piastri x childhood bestfriend!reader smau / face claim: none :D

warnings/notes: none really? one kinda bitchy comment from oscar bc he's king of the sassy man apocalypse. i love this so much, also do we like the new insta post format ?? im kinda meh about it.

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, and others...

uruser: last week of cramming before the summer ( and visiting my favorite aussie in monaco ...)

user1: literally my queen.

nicolepiastri: best of luck with finals !!

⤷ uruser: thank u mama piastri !! 🩷

user2: best of luck yn!!

oscarpiastri: see u soon loser

⤷ ururser: u too bitch <3

⤷ logansargeant: what book are u reading now??

⤷ uruser: rereading pride and prejudice again

⤷ logansargeant:so we're watching it again after monaco ? @ oscarpiastri

⤷ oscarpiastri: movie night !!!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others...

uruser: ' i know im just a fool who's willing to sit around and wait for you ' 🩷

user3: stop who are u pining for queen ??

oscarpiastri: now whats all this then.

⤷ landonorris: u sound like @ georgerussel

⤷ uruser: lando don't bring more brits on my page pls im scared of u people

⤷ georgerussell: right, whats all this then?

⤷uruser: BACK!!! OUT!!! SHOO!! ALL OF U BOYS. THIS IS FOR THE GIRLS.

user4: oh honey its BAD.

logansargeant: oh this is the approach?

⤷ uruser: im desperate man.

⤷ oscarpiastri: wow. i introduced you to logan and you tell him your secrets before me?

⤷ logansargeant: oscar. i beg you to use your brain.

⤷ user5: logan what do you KNOW?

liked by laufey, nicolepiastri, oscarpiastri, and others...

uruser: new low: crying over lovesick by @ laufey

oscarpiastri: and you still wont tell me who this is about?

user6: and shes so real for this !!

laufey: NO. i didn't mean to make you cry beautiful :(

⤷ ururser: you've revived me by commenting so its ok queen <3

user7: hot take: she's pining over oscar.

⤷ user8: clearly you havent been an oscar fan since prema. this is not a new take LMAOO

user9: oscyn truthers RISE

nicolepiastri: you are too pretty to cry over a pretty song ! be brave and follow your heart !

⤷ uruser: i would if i wasnt afraid it would all go horribly wrong :(

⤷ nicolepiastri: trust me, if he's as smart as he was raised to be, it wont!! 😉

⤷user10: MAMA PIASTRI KNOWS?

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

uruser: we'll end up like always.

user12: second time shes posted that handwriting....

user12: can someone explain how she and the f1 grid know eachother?? im so confused

⤷ user13: yn is oscar's childhood best friend!! her older brother karted with oscar and logan so she ussed to hang out with them a lot. shes an engineering student at MIT right now :)

lilymhe: oh my god STILL?

alexalbon: this is gonna go to after belgium PAY UP @ logansargeant

⤷ logansargeant: let me have faith alex please

⤷ uruser: i cannot BELIEVE you bet on this.

user14: is oscar writing the notes??

⤷ user15: you might be onto something...

logansargeant: we need to enact phase two. i swear it will work.

⤷ nicolepiastri: uh oh. be careful logan !!

⤷ logansargeant: i will mama piastri !

⤷user16: god speed logan

liked by williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon, and others...

uruser: help me tom cruise !! (i got abducted by williams this weekend)

tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri

logansargeant: tom cruise, use your witchcraft on me to get the fire off me !! ( it was great to have you !!)

user17: oscar only in the group photo... logan in almost every picture... yn and logan quoting talladega nights?? we are SO OVER OSCYN TRUTHERS.

williamsracing: blue is a nice change of color for you!

⤷ oscarpiastri: no >:(

⤷ uruser: LMAO OSCAR PLS

oscarpiastri: WOW. my TWO BEST FRIENDS hang out WITHOUT ME.

⤷ uruser: you both hang out without me ALL THE TIME.

⤷ logansargeant: i am the superior driver

⤷ oscarpiastri: and who has a seat next year

⤷ uruser: JESUS CHRIST OSCAR 😭

user18: IS THIS JEALOUSY?

user19: jealousy on oscar is FUNNY

alexalbon: i would say something but im afraid oscars gonna come at me too

⤷ oscarpiastri: 🧍‍♂️

⤷ alexalbon: @ uruser get ur man im scared

⤷ uruser: not my man

lilymhe: so fun to see you this weekend <3

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, logansargeant, and others...

uruser: i forgot cats get jealous....

tagged: oscarpiastri

user20: THE IDENTICAL SHOE TYING PHOTOS IM IN TEAARRSSS

oscarpiastri: the cat agenda is so mean

⤷ uruser: says the man literally smacking me to get my attention

⤷ oscarpiastri: it worked didnt it?

nicolepiastri: oscar has always been like that since you two were very young!

logansargeant: phase two complete. good luck soldier 🫡

⤷ uruser: thank u logan, ive got it from here

user21: did they plan to make oscar jealous?? so he would admit he likes yn??

user22: SHUT UP THATS SO FUNNY

landonorris: oh thank god he'll stop whining now

⤷ user23: HELLO?

user24: OSCAR BEING JEALOUS OF LOGAN SHUT UPPPP

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and others...

uruser: logans plan worked?

tagged: oscarpiastri

logansargeant: and im still alive?

⤷ nicolepiastri: oscar won't kill spiders half the time, I didn't think he'd kill you, logan!

⤷ oscarpiastri: i was gonna ask kmag to hit you again (@ FIA this is a joke.)

⤷ uruser: oscar PLEASE THE FIA??

oscarpiastri: 🧡

⤷ uruser: wow u have such a way with words.

⤷ oscarpiastri: my pr team is staring over my shoulder i have to be careful

⤷ oscarpiastri: what i can say is sorry for being a blind idiot

alexalbon: i cannot BELIEVE this worked?

lilymhe: logan the mastermind, cannot wait to hear his speech at the wedding

landonorris: finally.

⤷ uruser: lando the strongest man thru this all

⤷ landonorris: i have heard oscar admit things you couldnt pry out of me.

⤷ oscarpiastri: literally what?

⤷ landonorris: ur mother is in this comment section, i can't say.

⤷ uruser: LANDO TEXT ME RIGHT NOW.

⤷ oscarpiastri: i was drunk probably

⤷ landonorris: stone cold sober. after practice during belgium?

⤷ oscarpiastri: oops.

⤷ uruser: JAW ON THE FLOOR.

[curtins]

HOLY GROUND — geto suguru

prologue. → suguru geto is effortlessly stylish, and impossibly charming, and it's no wonder that everyone loves him. and you're absolutely crushing on him. and without fail, he takes you out each afternoon, after school, to a sweet cheesecake shop, saying that it'll be nice to grab a quick treat. but as a friend...right?

pairing. geto suguru x reader

warnings+. nothing, just sugary sweet fluff! reader has some self doubt and is a bit nervous, has a bit of a crush on ol' geto.

word count. 3.03k! song inspiration. holy ground — taylor swift

a/n. this post by @shokosmokes got me thinkin...mind u i love a good angst story but its nice to just have something sweet. like cheesecake 🍰 anyway this is short but i had fun writing this short lil piece <3 lmao this is the first time i think i've written a story without someone dying or losing a limb. not beta read, we die like warriors.

mp3. tonight i'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through. but i don't wanna dance, if i'm not dancing with you.

you sat across from geto at a small table by the window, marvelling at how the warm sunlight spilled in and caught the edges of his profile, lighting his features up with the last rays of summer's sweetness. you can hear the usual bustle of life on the streets of tokyo, with cars roaring down narrow streets and voices floating on the air. but here, it's just you and him.

there's a single strand of his hair that's perpetually falling out of his knot, falling against his face in a way that makes your chest tighten. the light has caught the feathery edges of his raven hair, turning the black into deep shades of brown and caramel that you want to capture within your fingers.

"you're quiet today," geto says, and he's leaning back in his chair, legs stretched wide beneath the table as he always tends to do.

you're glad you both took the time to change out of your uniform, at the dorms. the loose charcoal top drapes well against his lean, sculpted frame. his faded black jeans and scuffed docs complete the look, as though he stepped out of a glossy streetwear magazine and into your hands. there's two silver bracelets stacked on his wrists, gleaming faintly and you watch as the faint dusting of dark hair on his arms look translucent in the afternoon light.

great, you've been staring. again. heat rushes to your face, and you quickly look down at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping he didn't notice how you were practically unthreading each stitch that held him together.

"just tired," you say. though the truth has nothing to do with exhaustion, and everything to do with him.

geto tilts his head, watching you, "long day?"

you trace your finger along that shattered screen as you flip your phone open, "something like that. you know how they train us at the end of the day."

his eyes narrow for a split second, like he's the one solving a puzzle right now, but he shakes his head, "let's just go and order now. 'm starving."

this bakery is known for its whimsical creations, and you stare at the menu above the counter, wondering how many crumpled bills you can scrounge up for this outing. geto's leaning against the glass case, shoving his hands in wide pockets as his bracelets clink softly at the movement.

his eyes skim over the vibrant slices of cheesecake on display, but you know he's not really looking at the desserts. he's just giving you time.

"what do you think?"

"i don’t know," you say, dragging out the words as you squint at the labels. "how am i supposed to pick between strawberry matcha swirl and honey lavender? they all sound so - " you pause, schooling your face as the woman behind the till gives you a side-eye, "complicated."

geto chuckles, a low, warm sound that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. "why don’t you go for something fun? you always play it safe."

his words make you pause. maybe he’s right. maybe you do tend to pick the familiar, the predictable. but not today. today, you want something different — something bold. you glance at the menu again, and your eyes land on a slice that looks like a kaleidoscope of colour: tropical mango-passionfruit cheesecake with swirls of raspberry and a delicate coconut crust. it’s so bright and summery, it feels almost impossible not to smile just imagining yourself biting into it.

"that one," you say, pointing to it.

geto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, his lips curving into a faint smile. "and for me…" he looks over the options for barely a second before he says, "just plain vanilla."

"tch! vanilla?" you repeat "you’re so boring."

"hey, it's a classic."

you roll your eyes, but you are so endlessly fond of him that you're smiling.

a few moments later, you’re back at your table with your slices, and the tropical cheesecake looks as perfect as it did in the case. the vibrant layers of mango, passionfruit, and raspberry practically glow in the sunlight streaming through the window.

ignoring geto's snarky comment to breathe first before inhaling it, you take your first bite, the fork sinking into the creamy texture, and for a moment, you’re hopeful.

but then...ugh. the sweetness hits you all at once, overwhelming your senses. it’s not bad, but it’s...too much. too bright. too cloying. you hesitate, unsure how to admit the mistake of your overzealous choice.

geto notices immediately, because of course he does. he leans forward, resting his arms on the table, his bracelets catching the light again, "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you say quickly, but your face must give you away because he narrows his pretty eyes in suspicion.

"you don’t like it." it's not a question, he’s grinning now.

"it’s fine," you insist, though your tone lacks conviction, and you shovel another wide piece into your mouth.

geto doesn’t say anything. instead, he picks up his fork and, before you can protest, scoops a bite from your slice. you watch as his pink lips part, and he tastes it before pulling a face, "that's sweet enough to even knock out satoru."

"hey!" you protest, though you can’t help but laugh along with him, thinking of your white-haired friend bouncing off the walls. "it’s not that bad."

"you don’t have to eat it," geto says, sliding his plate toward you and nudging your slice away. "here. take mine."

"but you don’t even like sweet things."

geto shrugs, picking up your plate and taking another bite of your overly sweet cheesecake like it’s nothing, and you watch as a mild spasm twitches across his features, "it’s fine. it's no good if you sit here and suffer through something you don't like."

you try to pretend like your chest doesn't tighten at the gesture. he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, focusing instead on his plate.

you take a bite of his vanilla cheesecake, and it’s perfect — not too sweet, just creamy and subtle enough to make you sigh in relief, "where would i be without you?" you hope that the teasing in your voice is enough to smooth over the cracks in your beating heart.

geto glances up at you then, his violet eyes meeting yours, and there’s something unguarded in his expression, something raw and warm and so achingly tender it makes your pulse skip, "i could say the same for you," he says quietly, almost as if the words weren’t meant to be heard, and far too quietly for something as trivial as an afternoon date in a café.

there's a warmth pooling in your cheeks, making your face hurt. and your thoughts loop back to the same quiet ache that you've carried for a few months now, like a sealed and perfumed love letter carried in your pocket.

every time he takes you out after class, you tell yourself, this is it. this is when i'll say it. haven't you rehearsed the words in your head, simple and clear each time?

i like you. i actually really like you a lot, suguru geto.

and every time, like clockwork, the words dissolve on your tongue, swallowed by the noise of your own uncertainty. it is hardly the case that geto isn't kind nor attentive. it's not that he's distant or cold, entirely the opposite.

if anything, he always seems...present.

but then you think about how he walks through the school hallways with that same quiet storm of charisma and charm, how his laughter draws people to him like moths to a flame, boys and girls alike.

in contrast, gojo satoru is far too much for many. there are many who choose to take a step back from him, away from the whirlwind and electrifying storm that is the six-eyes user.

but everyone wants a piece of geto's world, to be his friend or a confident, or something.

and you, what are you? just another friend he takes out after school? someone he doesn't mind spending time with when the day winds down?

your heart is once again acquainted with a knot of longing and fear that’s become far too familiar. geto doesn’t look like someone who would hesitate. he looks like someone who would know exactly what to say, exactly what to do, without second-guessing himself.

and yet, every time you’re with him, you catch these small moments of quiet — when his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, or when he says your name like it’s heavier than it should be. those moments make you wonder. what if…?

and as if he's reading your thoughts, geto shifts forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table now, and that single loose strand of hair moves with him, falling further into his face.

"something’s on your mind," he says, his pretty eyes searching yours. there’s a teasing edge to his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine curiosity, "you can tell me, you know."

you can’t help but wonder — how are you supposed to tell him that he’s the one taking up all the space in your mind? that his voice is the soundtrack to your thoughts, his smile the thing you find yourself chasing in every quiet moment?

instead, you give a small shrug, "maybe i’m just distracted."

"by what?" he presses, leaning just slightly closer, the teasing note in his voice softening into something warmer, a sincere question.

you hesitate, and you want to tell him the truth, but it feels too big, too fragile to let out into the open and so you blunder around, "maybe it’s the cheesecake," you say instead, your voice light, though the thrum of your pulse is anything but, "vanilla really is a classic."

smooth. utahime is going to be so disappointed in you. you know that she's tired of hearing about your crush by now, twirling the ribbon in her hair as she groans each time you tell her that you think you're going to pack your bags and move countries away from geto.

but now geto laughs softly, and the sound wraps around you like warmth, like home, "guess i picked the right place, then."

"you always do." your fingers brush against the cool porcelain of your plate, though you barely notice. your heart is often a traitor to your rational peace of mind, and your attention is all on him, on the way his smile lingers, softer now, the edges of his usually confident expression unraveling into something more tentative.

for a moment, geto's quiet, his gaze falling to his hands. his fingers toy with one of the silver rings on his right hand, twisting it in slow circles. It’s a small, nervous gesture, and it catches you off guard — suguru geto is never nervous.

the silence stretches in the late afternoon light, but then geto shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his hands fiddling with the silver rings stacked on his fingers. the movement catches your attention, and when you glance up, you notice something different about him. the easy confidence that seems to follow him like a second shadow is nowhere to be seen. instead, his jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, and there’s a flicker of something nervous in the way his fingers twist the largest ring around and around.

he's looking at you, meeting your gaze, and you’re startled by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes.

"hey," he says, his voice quieter than usual, a touch rough around the edges.

"yeah?"

geto exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a line before he speaks again.

"okay, look. i -” he pauses, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the tie holding his hair together, so choppy, dark locks fall around his shoulders. you school your face well enough so you don't look like you've been punched in the gut by cupid.

"i like you," he says finally, his words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been bottled up for too long, "i’ve liked you for a while now. and - and i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without, like… messing everything up."

your breath catches, the words landing like a firework in the quiet space between you. geto likes you? he likes you?

geto keeps going, as if he’s afraid to lose his nerve.

"i asked gojo for advice — stupid, i know, don't make that face — and he told me to just… keep taking you out and hope you’d get the hint. said that you'd realise eventually," and one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers you know groans, covering his face briefly with one hand, as if he's embarrassed.

"which was a terrible plan because i'm awful at hints, and apparently, so is he, considering he’s never had a girlfriend in his life."

you blink, the shock giving way to a surprised laugh, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.

"wait — gojo? he's the one who gave you advice? he doesn’t even know the first thing about relationships! do you remember the time that he went on one date, and got dumped the next day for trying to buy dinner out of the vending machine."

"i know!" geto says, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, but there’s a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips now, "i know it was a bad idea. i just wanted to tell you, straight up. but I didn’t know what else to do, okay? i didn’t want to screw this up."

you fall silent at that, your laughter fading as the weight of his words sinks in. he's looking at you now, his expression open and raw in a way that makes your chest ache.

"i just — i want to do this right," he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "i want to be your boyfriend. properly. i want to take you out, and to be able to call you mine, and — i don’t know — do all the cheesy stuff couples do."

his hand brushes the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the table for a moment before flicking back to yours, "but if that’s weird, or if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. you don’t have to say yes. promise i won't cry in front of you."

Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, a wild, dizzying rhythm that drowns out everything else. You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’s just said, with the fact that he likes you. geto—cool, effortlessly charming geto—wants to be your boyfriend.

"wait," you manage finally, your voice shaky with disbelief. "you… like me? like, you really like me?"

geto laughs softly, though there’s still a nervous edge to it. "yeah, i really do. it's probably stupidly obvious by now, isn’t it? i mean, everyone said it was so obvious, and shoko said you already knew."

you shake your head, bewildered. "no! i mean, yes — but no! i just thought you only saw me as a friend. i never thought — "

you stop yourself, realising you’re rambling, and take a deep breath. then, before you can overthink it or possibly faint, you say, "yes."

geto's thin brows furrow slightly. "yes?"

"yeah," you repeat, a smile breaking across your face. "i'd really like that. i do want to go out with you, suguru."

relief washes over his features, followed by a grin so genuine and bright it leaves you breathless. for a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name, something that makes you feel like the centre of the universe.

"oh my god, thank god, you don't even know, i was actually going to have a heart attack..." he mutters, almost to himself, before he blinks, like he's forgetting something. then, with an almost comical jolt of realisation, he clears his throat.

"right," he says, the word drawn out, as if he’s trying to ground himself. "i need to pay for the tab."

you laugh nervously, still reeling from everything that’s just happened, and shake your head quickly, thinking back to the meagre bills in your pocket. "oh, it’s okay! i can pay for my own -"

but geto's head snaps up at that, and he fixes you with a look so incredulous, so utterly affronted, that it startles you into silence.

"no way," he says, his voice firm but laced with humour and he leans forward slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of warmth that sends your heart racing all over again, "i’m your boyfriend now. you really think I’m going to let you pay?"

it's unfamiliar and thrilling all at once. your cheeks burn, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, a mix of delight and disbelief.

"unbelievable," you say, shaking your head, but there’s no real protest in your voice.

geto grins, the expression crooked and self-assured in a way that’s so unmistakably him, and it takes your breath away. then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours before his fingers gently curl around them.

it's such a simple gesture, but it feels monumental, like the air around you shifts in response. his hand is warm, slightly calloused at the fingertips, and the way his thumb grazes over your knuckles sends a quiet thrill through you.

you glance down at your joined hands, unable to stop the soft, surprised smile that spreads across your face. when you look back up, geto is watching you, his expression open and unguarded, as if he’s memorising every detail of this moment.

"so," he says quietly, his voice softer now, "is this the part where you say you’re going to let me spoil you a little?"

you laugh again, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand in return. "i guess i don’t really have a choice now, do i?"

his smile widens, and there’s a faint pink tint to his cheeks that makes your heart ache with how much you like him.

"nope," he says, his tone teasing but earnest. "you really don’t."

and as you sit there, your hand in geto's, surrounded by the golden light and the lingering sweetness of cheesecake, you think that maybe — just maybe — this is what happiness feels like.

[astralis-ortus]

you're always enough

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— losing you was not an option.

w.count → 2.3k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing, mention of infidelity, insecure chan :( a.n → based on this request! it honestly was a challenge for me hahahㅠ i think it's been a while since i wrote something with this quick of a vibe change in a while but i'm glad i got to try again! ⋆ see masterlist

the clock at the bottom right part of his monitor shows its lingering around the 1pm mark—a mere 2 hours since he had stepped foot inside the building—and yet, he’s already stressed.

one block and straight to another, work hasn’t been looking good for him so far. he’s so ready to call for another break—but the soft knocks to the melody of twinkle twinkle little stars on chan’s studio door could only mean one thing.

“well hello there, miss producer,” chan’s frown turned into a smile in the split second you peeked your head between the crack of the door, eyes turning into a pair of beautiful crescents you oh-so adore. you couldn’t even stop yourself from smiling—chan just looked so adorable with his messy natural curls decorating his forehead, beanie discarded somewhere on his leather couch. “come on in. i missed you.”

4 years ago, you were graced with the opportunity to participate in a song camp with the 3racha—one of, if not the, biggest producers in your company. it was a great experience—you got to learn a lot of new things, and somehow, your luck seemed to prolong as you kept in touch with the boys; occasionally called in for inputs while some other time just to hangout while grabbing a bite when the three realized the unidentified voice bleed turns out to originate from your producing room.

“oh really?” your smile easily mirrored his as you stepped inside the cold room, not forgetting to close the door behind you, “you missed me?”

taking his extended hand, the wide grin painted on your face soon met the end of its reign as your boyfriend pulls you into his lap—tiny yelp involuntarily left your lips while chan had his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. you couldn’t even continue with the witty remarks on the tip of your tongue when his complimentary dozen of butterfly kisses fell across the span of your face; all replaced with the series of giggles and ‘oh my god—stop!’s as you attempted to free yourself from his trap.

you thought your little crush on the oldest of the three was going to remain as a silly little crush—but as life turns out, it has somehow been around 2 years since chan asked you to be his girlfriend, and a little over a year since you two gradually came clean to your closest friends and coworkers; though the thought only came after repeatedly being caught secretly meeting up or sneakily holding hands during your increasingly overlapping recording sessions.

“you little monster!” a high pitched squeal slipped past your upturned lips when you finally caught his rosy cheeks between your hands, keeping him still as you brought your lips onto his for a few quick pecks—which seemed to work, seeing how chan’s antics now reduced to a simple giggle as he held you close.  “you really missed me that much?” you hummed, gently running your thumbs on his freckled cheeks.

“of course i do,” chan pursed his lips in protest, warm hand gently running down your side, “it’s not every day i couldn’t see my girlfriend both at home and at work. 24 hours a day alone wasn’t enough, and now it’s reduced? of course i’m bound to miss you!”

swarms of butterflies fill the hollow of your chest while you let laughter echoes through the familiar green walls, feeling both warm and ticklish from chan’s cheesy line. “gosh,” your wide set grin now completed with a tinge of rose-colored flush on your cheeks, “you’re so head over heels for me, aren’t you?”

chan’s reverberating low hum became his reply, nodding his head confidently. “of course i am,” he smiled, eyes twinkling as the pair of deep brown eyes peered right into yours. “aren’t you?”

“well,” you grinned, arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “maybe if—”

your train of thought was forced to a halt when you felt a buzz in your pocket, quickly hopping off chan’s lap after a quick glance at the name. a short apology was muttered before you finally took the call outside the studio, leaving chan feeling a little dumbfounded and… hurt.

chan knew it’s probably work—despite the promised time off since the artist you’re working with is on their vacation, as someone who works behind the scenes, you’re never actually off duty. there’s bound to be urgent matters you need to deal with, and chan understood that.

he's just… confused.

and his confusion certainly multiplies in size when he heard another voice laughing with yours, right outside of his studio.

“no! geez, didn’t i—oh!” your attention instantly shifted when you heard the studio door crack open, eyes catching your puzzled boyfriends’ as he looked at you and the figure across. “channie, this is kyungho sunbae. he’s a new addition to the team but i met him in college. kyungho sunbae, this is—”

“bang chan-ssi, of course,” kyungho cheerily greeted chan, extending a friendly hand. “i’ve heard a lot of good things about you!”

“oh,” the confusion on chan’s face turned into a tight smile—which equally reflected on his grip on the stranger’s hand. even through a quick scan of his eyes, chan notices a lot. “couldn’t really say the same, but welcome. i hope you’re adjusting well so far,” chan continued, returning his hand to the small of your back.

“i am, thank you! i—”

“i’m sorry i can’t really talk much right now, i have my things to return to,” chan was quick to cut kyungho off, surprising both you and the latter. “it was nice meeting you, though,” chan quickly bowed before disappearing behind the metal door, leaving you slightly bothered.

“well, i gotta get going too,” kyungho finally broke the awkwardness between you. “i’ll text you later about the details?” he smiled despite the peeking confusion behind his eyes, to which you nodded before sending him off.

it was unlike chan to behave like that. sure, he might grow a little rough with his actions when work hasn’t been going the way he wanted things to be, but he was doing just fine. he was all lovey dovey with you less than 5 minutes prior, wasn’t he?

“baby,” cracking the door open, you were met with a stern-faced chan—eyes locked to his monitors with a muffled bass resonating from the headphone over his ears. the sight led you to a defeated sigh; you knew better than anyone to not bother the lion when he’s in this state.

but little did you know,

when you decided to back away and close the door, chan felt as if his worst nightmare had come true.

he knows it’s stupid to think that you’d ever cheat on him, but there’s also no guarantee that you would never fall for someone else and realize that maybe your happiness wasn’t with him. it terrifies chan to realize that maybe one day, you’d meet someone and realize that there’s someone better than him—someone better looking, someone who could treat you better, someone who could give you everything that you could ever wished for.

chan is scared that he’s not enough, and never will be.

for someone who’s been in his seat for so long, chan understands that at times his life does feel rather fleeting—like he’s simply going through the motions as he tries to stay afloat. everything—everyone—goes by so fast, and along the way, chan somehow learned how to shut down his feelings just so he could survive. he knew—he hoped, that as life gets better, he’ll come to find the opportunity to learn how to feel again.

but then, again, not everything he knows he needed to do proves to be easy.

it took him a while, but when he finally reached a point where he felt like life’s doing better for him, chan finally realizes that he now has love within him to give. he tried sharing them with his bandmates, he tried sharing them with his friends and family—hell, he even tried to share them with every single soul he met, but nothing fills him with the sense of content he was looking for…

until he met you.

chan knew he shouldn’t—you were his coworker, but despite him trying his best not to view you in a special light, he couldn’t help but return his gaze to your bright smile whenever you’re in the room. sure, you’re passionate about what you do, and it sure inspires him—but to see how your shoulders relax whenever you pop open a new book, or how happy you looked browsing through the convenience store aisles while trying to find what kind of new snacks you’ve never seen before,

it feels like he finally found what to be at peace felt like. he finally knew what love should look like—and it’s you.

a soft touch on his shoulder snaps chan out of his trance, eyes wide as it met your worried pair. your gentle smile was the second thing he noticed, and his eyes finally trailed down to the box of pineapple juice and a few snacks along the roll of kimbab perched on his desk.

“i know you’re busy,” your voice finally came clear as soon as chan took off his headphone, “but you need to eat first, okay? it’s almost 2, and i know you didn’t eat much earlier before you left. i’m not gonna bother you again if you eat now—i’ll even head home if you need time to focus, but that’s as long as you eat. okay?”

“…then i’m not eating.”

“baby—”

“i don’t want you to go home,” chan reiterated—and that’s when you finally see the tinge of sadness behind his eyes. “i’m not eating if you’re gonna go.”

“oh baby—what happened?” your voice turned gentle as you took his face in your hands, gently grazing the pads of your thumbs over his skin. “are you okay? do you—”

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” you tilted your head, now confused. “for…?”

“just… everything,” chan exhaled, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close and rested his forehead on your stomach. “i know i’m difficult, but please. don’t leave.”

“baby you’re not difficult,” you furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled. what happened in the 30 minutes you were gone? did something terrible happened? all sorts of thoughts were running through your head.

“and i’m not leaving,” your voice were stern, and you felt the way chan slightly tightened his arms around you. “where am i supposed to even go anyway? i’m already home.”

if chan wasn’t tearing up before, then he sure is now.

“even if i’m not perfect?” he quietly muttered—and you’re slowly piecing the puzzles together. “even if i’m not tall enough? even if my hair is always messy? even if i’m not fashionable? even if—"

“stop right there, mr. bahng,” you stopped him, peeling yourself off from chan and gazed right at his flushed face, “why are you being mean to my boyfriend? where does this came from, hm? no one’s allowed to say shit to my boyfriend like that!” your pursed your lips and gently lowered yourself to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, only then smiling when chan let out a soft giggle.

“were you upset about me talking to kyungho sunbae earlier?” you questioned, and despite the lack of reply from your boyfriend, you’re pretty sure you knew what his answer was based on the minuscule shift on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i thought our interactions wasn’t important enough, so i never really brought him up to you. had i known you’d feel differently about that, i would’ve told you right away,” you apologized, smiling as you noted the faint glint returning in his eyes. “we did met in college, but he was just a senior i came to shadow a couple times when i started out in the industry.”

“i was really surprised when he turned out to be the new guy in my team,” you continued, fingers gently tracing his features, “but what really shocked me was turns out, i actually know his wife.”

you watched as your boyfriend connected the dots, jaw falling upon realizing the tiny detail he had skipped through despite catching a short glimpse of thin silver band on his finger.

“i met his wife a few times since we were pretty close in high school, and he’s been trying to dig out some information from me since their anniversary is just around the corner and he wanted to surprise her. he was just making sure he got the details right without texting me since his texts are synced to their shared device,” you explained, letting a giggle slip when you caught the blush creeping up your boyfriend’s face.

“…i see.”

the echo of your laugh only grew in volume when your boyfriend began to avoid your eyes, resorting to him burying his face on your stomach. adorable.

“it’s okay, baby. i understand why you’d get jealous,” your lips were set into a wide grin as you held your boyfriend close. “i’m still really sorry, though. i really wasn’t trying to hide this, i promise. i’ll tell you straight away if anything like this ever happened again.”

“okay.”

“so…” reducing your giggles to a smile, you gently run your nails on your boyfriend’s scalp, trying to soothe him, “am i forgiven?”

a muffled whine and a nod after, chan finally gazed up at you and added, “if only you’re eating with me.”

“oh baby,” cradling his face in your hands with a smile, you inched closer and placed a light peck over his pouting lips, “i’ll even stay here and cuddle all day with you.”

only then, chan finally allowed himself to laugh.

“well, then don’t mind if i say yes to that.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!

[ellastone-olsen]

Fucked my way up to the top - Wanda Maximoff

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: You just got your first job in your life and suspiciously quickly became an assistant to the director of the company. Where's the catch?

Pairing: ceo!Wanda Maximoff × f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, dom!Wanda, sub!reader, age gap (W34 R21), mommy kink, strap on usage (W), blow job (R), pet names

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.2k

AN: inspired by lana del rey i really love that song

You just graduated from a college you didn't even want to go to. Wrong college, wrong specialty, but as a result, very much the right job. After one day you began to believe in fate and that this entire chain of events in your life was a blessing from above. After all if it weren’t for the strong nature of your parents who sent you to study, you would never have met Wanda.

At some point, you thought that you would never find a job in your specialty until you saw the ideal vacancy: the salary, the location of the office, the schedule, the educational requirements, everything suited you. There definitely had to be a catch somewhere. And it definitely was.

“No, put it in its place, I don’t need these papers and coffee right now. I have a meeting Y/N, why answer me i need coffee? Just think for once with your pretty little head.” That catch was your boss, Wanda Maximoff. That's what you thought at first.

You trotted behind her on the way to the conference room; in general, the very fact that the director of the company took you on as her personal assistant was already a great success. Some worked in one place for years and remained as an office clerk. And then Wanda Maximoff took you to bring her coffee, not the hardest job, especially for the money that you were paid.

When you entered the room, the hall was empty. One characteristic feature of your boss was excessive punctuality, you realized this in your first week of work. You took your place at the head of the table next to her when you felt manicured hands rest on your shoulders, stroking them. That was the second thing about Wanda Maximoff, she loved to touch you, a lot. Sometimes she would tuck a stray strand behind your ear, sometimes she would stroke your thigh; in general, such touches from her were nothing new. If you said you didn't enjoy it, you'd be lying. Wet dreams with her began to visit you in the third week of work.

And now, from her touch, you could feel your core throbbing. To your great regret, at that moment the conference room began to fill with people. As important and powerful as Wanda. To be honest, you didn’t understand that such a small employee like you was even doing here.

The meeting lasted about an hour and during this time you could feel with your whole being how tense your boss was. Everything was definitely not going the way she wanted; one of the men opposite was already starting to scream, unable to prove that he was right. The deal was on the verge of failure. “Okay gentlemen, I think that’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Wanda could not stand it and marked the end of this meeting.

When the hall was empty, the woman sat down in a chair with her legs spread, a sigh escaped her lips and one hand again lay on your thigh, squeezing it. "Fucking bastards." She muttered and your gaze caught the older woman's pants. She wore an expensive formal suit with a bulge imprinted on the trousers. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as you wondered what her purpose was..."See something you like?" You jumped at the question, scared that you had been caught. One of Wanda's hands strokes your thigh, moving up closer to your already dripping pussy while the other massages her fake cock through the fabric of her pants. You look at her expressionless face and nod in response to the question.

"On your knees". The chair moves back with a creak, giving you space. You stand in front of her to look into her eyes, darkened with lust, for a second and fall to your knees. Hands immediately reach for her trousers, sorting out the belt and pulling them off along with her underwear. A red strap jumps out in front of your face and you start to get nervous about the size. “I don’t think it will fit..”. You are interrupted by a grip in your hair. "Don't worry baby girl I'll make it fit now suck my cock."

She guides your head towards her length and you curl your tongue around the tip as if she can feel it. You raise your eyes and look at her, and then shut your mouth on her dick, feeling tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Her palm cups your cheek and her thumb wipes away drops of moisture, “Oh my sweet girl wants to please her mommy so bad.” She helps you by guiding your head up and down her length, your panties are hopelessly ruined and you squirm, looking for some kind of relief. Wanda lifts her hips so that your nose touches her stomach and holds you like that for a few seconds. When your boss lets you go, your makeup is hopelessly ruined and you gasp for air.

"Such a good sweet girl. Do you want mommy to put her dick inside you? Do you want me to stretch you out and fuck you until you forget your name?" You are still kneeling in front of her and a pathetic whine comes out of your mouth, “Please mommy I really need you to fuck me.” Wanda likes your answer and growls, she pulls you to your feet and then bends you over the large office desk. Your cheek is pressed against the cold surface, the older woman has already hiked up your skirt to your waist and is stroking your throbbing pussy through the fabric of your cotton panties.“My, my, you’re already absolutely wet and I haven’t touched you yet. Do you like sucking mommy’s cock so much? Maybe next time should I fuck this beautiful, capable mouth mmm?" A sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp. "Yes yes please I will like it so much.”

Your underwear falls to your ankles and the tip of her cock teases your throbbing clit and then runs through the folds, collecting your arousal. Without warning, she fills you to the edge and started to pound at a slower pace than you would like. You gasp from the stretch "Mommy it's too big. Feel so full." Her pace increases, her hand finds your swollen clit and rubs it making you cry. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well. Come on baby mommy needs to de-stress after these bastards." Wanda leans over you and bites your neck as she continues to pound into you at a faster pace, your velvet walls starting to clench around her length. "Oh fuck Ms. Maximoff I'm close I gonna cum." Wanda’s cock hits that nice spot inside you so deliciously, pushing you inexorably to the edge. "Come on baby, cum for me. Show mommy how good she fucks you." Her fingers rub your sensitive bud faster and you see stars cumming all over her cock, crying out inaudible curses into the silence of the office. She continues to move, prolonging your orgasm until your breathing evens out.

She pulls out her faux cock and then a pair of strong arms turns you around so you're face to face so she can press her lips to yours in a leisurely kiss. Wanda walks back to sit back in her chair, holding you by the waist, pulling you behind her so that you sit on her lap. “I was not mistaken in choosing you as my assistant.”

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Rhaegar Targaryen is easily one of GRRM’s best deconstructions of the genre and we don’t talk about it enough. He’s prince living in a world full of magic and wonder that has dwindled over time. His own family had a great monopoly on one of the most magical phenomena (dragons) to ever exist, but they lost this control over time and it was due to their own faults. But there’s an all encompassing hope that this magic, these dragons, will come back. They all live within the promise that it will all be back and with a huge bang. It’s all so romantic. Magical forces of ice and fire battling it out in a song.

Then there’s Rhaegar, a prince born for the sole purpose of being this song’s romantic hero. He already has his destiny mapped out and it will be a great one, greater than any other man who ever lived. It’s a song of ice and fire, and Rhaegar is its bard. You’d expect this to give him joy. Yet by all accounts, he was depressed as fuck. I think he’s unfairly earned the reputation of having an ego so big to think that he will be the hero….but that’s quite literally the point of his existence. He was born to be the hero. He paid the price at birth to be the hero. How can he revel and glory in this destiny when he has no say in it?

So it’s genuinely funny that when given the chance, Rhaegar immediately pivots to someone else taking on this burden. But how tragic for him that he cannot escape it too far. Because it will be none other than his own son who, under a “bleeding star”, is marked at conception for this great destiny without a say. More than his ego, Rhaegar is marked by the inability to escape this duty. His whole life is dedicated to fulfilling a duty he can never escape. He isn’t just a future king, prophecy dictates that the world’s survival is placed squarely on his shoulders. Even when he isn’t the hero, he’s now responsible for raising him…

…but then he makes one decision and it all comes crumbling like a pack of biscuits. He escapes this burden…but dies. And his successor dies too. And now the ones who will inherit his legacy are two people who never knew him. They never knew of his burdens, of this prophecy. But they too cannot escape its jaws. I think this does bring up some interesting questions about the nature of fate and destiny in the world of ice and fire. Can you really escape it? Rhaegar tried to, and paid the price for his defiance, but he never truly made it out because the burden instead jumped to the son (and sister) he never knew. Funny thing is that in a bizarre (and tragic, in its own way) twist of fate, this son was brought up entirely without the trappings of power that depressed Rhaegar. Rhaegar was a dazzling prince, Jon is a bastard. Rhaegar was marked by his great inheritance, Jon is marked by the lack thereof. Does fate say “well the first one got too depressed by having too much so let’s give the next one nothing?” Even Dany, who grows up a princess does not have the privileges that Rhaegar did. So how does upbringing craft a hero and the choices they make? Welll, GRRM had given us two versions of Rhaegar’s tragedy in Jon and Dany for us to see.

Rhaegar’s impact on the meta-narrative is honestly so massive. Like I’d put him right up there with Quentyn, Sansa, and Bran as one of the best genre deconstructions in the series and no one can tell me otherwise.

[supernovafics]

eddie has a crush on you

wc: 683

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

eddie has a crush on you, and it’s become blatantly obvious to everyone except you. 

only days after he met you at the hideout when robin introduced you both, he made you a mixtape. you had half-mentioned that you wanted to get into new music and eddie ran with that information, putting the tape together in just one night and then giving it to robin to give to you since she saw you more often. 

the next time you saw him at some group hangout at steve’s house, you told him that you really liked the songs he put on the mixtape and his heart nearly exploded out of his chest. he happily smiled and rambled on and on about some of the specific songs you said you liked, recommending you more songs from the artist and promising that he’d bring you their full album or just make you another mixtape altogether. 

that was when everyone saw it, how much he obviously liked you. but, you didn’t. 

you saw everything he did for you as just a simple friendly gesture, which was great in your eyes because you wanted more friends in this small town that you moved to only a few months ago.

when he was the only one that would come with you to see some new horror movie at the theater, or when he showed up during your quiet shifts at the bookstore and stayed for a few hours just to keep you company, you simply felt lucky to have him as a friend. 

robin was the only one to tell you differently, though. 

“oh, come on. he’s looked like a little puppy pining after you these past few weeks. i can’t believe you don’t see it.”

you laughed at her words. “you’re insane.”

“no, i’m right,” she said and you only shook your head in response, another laugh falling from your lips because you still couldn’t really believe it. 

that changed only a week later, when you got sick and robin told eddie, and then he showed up to your place armed with chicken noodle soup, cough syrup, and a few movies that you had mentioned to him one time that you really liked. 

“you made this yourself?” you asked as you poured the soup out of its tupperware and into a bowl. 

he smiled sheepishly at you as he nodded. “yeah… it actually wasn’t that hard, though. this lady at the grocery store helped me get the ingredients and then basically wrote down the instructions for me too.”

you gave him a small smile. “thank you.”

you looked down at the bowl of soup. him making it was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for you, and that was when you finally knew. it was also when you realized how you felt too. 

you both settled on your couch after you ate the soup. one of the movies eddie brought over was playing in front of you and your head was against his shoulder because the cough syrup was making you a little sleepy. 

“eddie,” you said with a sniffle maybe halfway through the movie and turned your head to look at him. there was something about the drowsiness of the medicine that made you feel a little bold in that moment. “do you like me? like, more than just as a friend?”

how red his cheeks got at your questions told you everything you needed to know, but he still gave you a flustered response. “oh, um, yeah. yeah, i do… but, i completely understand if you don’t and—”

you cut him off with a quick shake of your head and you gave him a small smile. “no, it’s okay. i like you too.”

the immediate elated grin that broke out on his face at your words made you want to kiss him, but you refrained from doing so because you didn’t want to make him sick too; you were also too tired. 

“oh. nice. cool,” he said, trying to act normal about it all but was still smiling widely. 

you laughed a bit. “cool.”

[ghxstwrites]

Forgive Me Father

Pairing: Priest! Yunho x GN! Reader

Summary: It’d been forever since you stepped into a church, but after one too many life altering events, a friend suggested confessing as a last resort, and it turns out you got more than you prayed for. 

WC: 2.6k

AU: Religion! Au

Genre: smidgen of Angst, Smutty smut smut smut, porn with plot

Warning(s): Smut! MDNI! priest kink went brrrrr with this man, dacryphilia, impact play, lotttsss of degradation, lil bit of praise, discussion of religion and blasphemous acts, reader can be a bit of a smartass, unprotected sex (that's not very holy… wrap it up) - sorry if i'm missing anything!

A/N: Well, I wont ever see Heaven after this. Thank you to @bunnliix for the proofread and help on this one, also @skzdust for you Catholicism knowledge, big shout out to @kpop---scenarios for the title!

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Tag List: @bethelighthalazia @a---shura @kpop---scenarios @autieofthevalley @wisejudgedragonhairdo (send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

It felt like one thing after another, your fiancé ran away with their co-worker and work had eliminated your position, and you’d lost what was supposed to be a lifelong friend in the process, it felt like something was out to get you. You’d tried everything to help clear any negative thoughts with every feasible solution you’d been recommended when searching the internet.

Journaling? Didn’t work - after you’d nearly jammed the pen through one of the books writing all the warning signs down after your fiancé left, and ruined another with tears talking about your friend.

Yoga and Meditation? Nope, after 3 sessions you decided being alone with your thoughts was definitely not the route you wanted to take.

Blasting your favorite songs? It worked… until the song you were going to use as your first dance at your wedding came on. Your speaker went through the open window right before you cried yourself to sleep that night. 

Which brings you to today, a group of your friends had decided to invite you out to lunch, the first time you’d really seen the world had set its sights on you. 

“Oh sweetheart…,” your friend cooed at you across the table, it sounded like she was mocking you at first, despite you knowing she wasn’t, you weren’t convinced she had an evil bone in her body. “Listen… I know it isn’t usually your thing, but.. Have you thought about church? Or even going to confessionals? They don’t really talk to you, the priest just listens…. Once you're done he offers solutions and if you use them, great. If not, no harm no foul?” she shrugs her shoulders unsure of her own words to you. 

You contemplated for a minute “You’re right it isn’t my thing, I don't really get how sitting next to a stranger who’s whole personality is religious context, talking to him like you’re talking to air…but if it works for you, that's great… for you,” You, admittedly a little harsh, reply back to her. 

Late one night you’d sat on your bed looking for jobs on your laptop, and with every passing one you’d grown more frustrated, you either didn’t have matching qualifications, they wanted a better degree or they weren’t even paying a livable wage. 

“Fuck this,” you huff out as you close your laptop, shoving it off your lap and fall back in bed. You’d pull your hoodie over your face as you listen to the sound of rainfall hit your apartment window and your friends' words ring back in your brain, what else did you really have to lose? Talking to a stranger who knows nothing about you and would likely never see you again, huffing you get dressed and head over to your local church.

Walking in, you take note of the admittedly beautiful surroundings, stained glass windows, marble statues, all of it was cloaked in darkness as night had fallen, but the moon light cascaded through the windows beautifully. 

You took a moment to look around, familiarizing yourself with your surroundings as it had been years since you’d entered a church. Wooden pews, rich velvet red floors, as dated as it may look, it was beautiful. 

It wasn’t long before your eyes fell on the confessional, a wooden box in the far corner of the room, sighing to yourself, you walked toward it. You slowly reach for the handle and open the door, you sit down in the booth as the silence is suddenly so loud. 

“What brings you here, Child?” A male voice spoke from the otherside of the grate.

Startled, you respond as calmly as you can. “I-I’m down on my luck and a friend suggested this… I’m hoping you can listen or help?”

The man spoke up once again “Very well, you may proceed.”

With a heavy sigh you proceed to recount the last few months of troubles to the man, feeling yourself getting angry and the tone shift slightly. You feel like you can dig your nails into the laminated wood you sat on, that same grit showing up in the way you speak.

“Easy child...” the man lulls out at you “There's no need to speak with such venom.”

The tone of his voice admittedly going straight to your core, but why? You don’t know anything about the young priest on the other side, other than exactly that, a young man who has devoted his life to the church, are you really that insane?

“Sorry sir -” 

“Please, refer to me as father, Father Yunho,” He cuts you off.

“Sorry Father…” you manage to say back, a calmness washing over your voice as you try to push those thoughts  to the back of your mind.

“Father, please help.” you whine out, feeling frustrated “I am at the end of my rope and nothing seems to be working,” you admit.

“I see… is that all you’d like to confess, child? I have a feeling there is more,” he all but whispers. 

The way his words fall from his mouth has you pushing your thighs together, his voice was as velvety as the floors of his church, delicate yet demanding.

“N-no father,” you say, barely above a whisper, when you hear a small chuckle on the other side.

“Very well, I sense that you need to reflect on yourself and perhaps your relationship with our savior, putting your faith in him may guide you to the path you are seeking,” he retorts back at you.

“Thank you Father.. For listening and.. Helping,” you sound pitiful, you felt as if you were about to cry

“If you feel the need to come back to confess anything further, I’m always here child.” he said back to you, his tone calm but with a hidden undertone to it that you couldn’t quite discern.

It had been a few weeks since you’d gone to visit Yunho, and out of everything you confessed that night, the one thing that stuck with you was the sound of his voice. 

The way it flowed like warm honey wouldn’t leave your head, what would your name sound like falling from those lips, the noises he’d make, maybe even… No, stop, he's a priest, he was there to listen and guide you and now all you can think about is the noises you could make him elicit.

You’d laid there, it’d been a rough day as several more rejection emails clogged your inbox, you think back to the young priest's words, full of encouragement - but the more they replayed the more you stirred, your hand guiding its way down your body, “Father please…” you’d softly moaned out as your hand dips into your shorts.

It had felt like the universe had given you a break, you’d been given a job offer, and a nice one at that, could this have been the divine intervention the young priest was talking about?

Despite the feeling of gratitude, and things looking up - there was still one thing in the back of your head. 

Father Yunho.

You found yourself back in the walls of the church late one evening, you’d just come from your first day of work and since the church was on the way home you wanted to stop in, if nothing else to pay your respects and close this chapter of your life. 

You’d sat down on the cold bench in the confessional. “Father Yunho? Are you there?”

“Oh it’s you again,” he speaks softly. He remembered me? “Is everything okay?”

That damn voice, the way it seeps out of his mouth, the way it makes you think the unholiest thoughts in the holiest of places.

“Y-yes… well yes and no,” you say to him “I was able to find a job, Today was my first day actually, I wanted to stop in and say  thank you…’ you trailed off

“And?” the young priest smirks to himself, he knows something else has brought you back - no one comes to confess a warm hearted thank you. “I feel as if there is still something you are withholding, child.”

“Please, call me Y/N…” you muster, trying to change the subject.

“Very well, Y/n,” he says, “Please, I will not force you but how can I help you if you do not confess what is plaguing you?”

Damn it. He has you cornered, you can’t back out of this now. 

“F-Father, please forgive me, but I.. I have sinned,” you whimper out. “Since the last time we spoke I.. I can’t stop thinking of you.” you confess to the young man sitting across the partition from you.

“Thinking of me? Thinking of me, how?” he asked you.

“I-” you choke on your own words, “Late at night.. When I replay your words, they start as encouragement and then I can’t help but think of what other sounds you can make.. I..” you look at the floor, embarrassed by your own confession, across the partition Yunho's face is getting hotter, and embarrassingly enough to him, his pants are getting tighter. 

When Yunho took the oath to be a faithful leader for Christ on the altar in this very church he made many vows, including celibacy, which never affected him until now. You, a seemingly innocent individual, came to him for advice, advice he was happy to offer to you, and now sitting across from you as you recount the blasphemous things you’d done while thinking about him, had made him feel things he’d never felt before.  

“Y/n, Pl-Please,” Yunho whined out

“I’m so sorry Father… I feel so ashamed at the amount of times I've gotten off to just the mere thought of your voice…” you feel the tears well up in your eyes.

Yunho is sat across from you and with every whimper and sob he feels it go straight to his dick, painfully aware of just how bad he’s affected you, as it’s now affecting him.

“Y-Y/n.. Please.. I…” he breathes out as his head tilts back against the confessional as he tries to push the thoughts out of his head, but now all he can think about is your tear stained face begging for forgiveness and he lets out a low moan. 

“Father are you… are you okay,” you lift your head to look at the mesh partition as if it were him. “I’m sorry if I…If i said too much.”

“Such- ah- filth should be reprimanded,” Yunho says through gritted teeth.

The sound goes straight to your core, causing you to press your thighs together in response.

“Father I -” Your words were cut short by the confessional door swinging open, leaving you face to face with the young priest. 

“You come into the house of Christ with such a perverted mouth and expect me to let you walk away?” He spat at you.”You are beyond saving Child,” as he pulls you out of the confessional and pushes you onto a nearby pew, leaving you shocked.

“The likes of you should be punished” he sits next to you and pulls you over his lap eliciting a yelp from you. His large hand comes down on your ass, the sound echoing through the church, causing you to cry out. 

“Quiet, you’ll take the punishment as penance for your sins, understood?” You let out a muffled sob “Now, Count.”

“One..” spank “T-Two,”  spank  “Th-Three,” you cry out as Yunho's broad hand comes down on your ass, tears rolling down your face.

“Such a waste of obedience in such a disobedient slut,” he says to you, gently massaging your asscheek from the smacks. 

“On your Knees,” you quickly move to place yourself on the ground. “Years ago, I vowed to Christ I would serve him in all his glory, I vowed obedience, poverty and celibacy.. And then my only thanks is to be sent a filthy slut to break me of those vows.” he spits as he removes his robe, and makes quick work of his belt. You sat back watching his every move, eyes eventually finding the tent that had been forming in his slacks.

“Father.. Please… please forgive me,” you sob up at him. “Quiet, you’ll speak when spoken too, understand?” he looks down at you. “Yes, Father” you squeak out as he smirks. “That’s better…” he reaches out to cup your face, wiping the stray tear away. ‘Now, why don’t you put this pretty mouth to good use?” he coos at you, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. 

Leaning back, he pulls out his aching cock, you lean forward and give him and give him a couple experimental pumps, which draws a beautiful noise out of the taller man before taking him completely in your mouth. 

The warm wet feeling has him in shambles, he’s putting all of his focus into not cumming down your throat immediately as you expertly work his length, his hand finding your hair as he attempts to take control of the situation. 

“There you go…” He lulls out, as his mouth drops open, as an unfamiliar pit starts forming in the pit of his stomach. He can feel it building as you bob your head up and down his cock, his grip on your hair tightening as he feels himself getting close, he pulls you away from him, using the hand in your hair to make you look up at him. Drool trailing out of your mouth as you look at him with slightly glassy eyes.

Looking at you, a switch flips in his mind, “So pretty, so obedient for me,” he says barely above a whisper as a smirk forms on his face. “Up, I’m not finished with you,” he pulls you to your feet as he stands up, leading you up to the altar, he forces you over it as he kicks your feet apart, he reaches for your hair, pulling it forcing it to look up. In front of you is a large marble statue of Christ. 

“To make sure you know just what you’ve done, I want you to see him,” he says sternly as tears well in your eyes again, before you can form a reply you feel Yunho’s cock slide into you, bottoming out rather quickly. The young priest throws his head back as his fingertips dig into your hip, causing you both to moan. Yunho pulls out slowly before ramming himself back into you, setting a rough pace. 

 “Father.. P-Please” you beg as his grip on your hair tightens. “F-uck please.. I can’t last much longer like this, Father please,” tears stream down your face as you stare at the marble statue in front of you.

“Not my favorite sinner begging for forgiveness now” he quips at you, his pace slowing down “Tell me exactly why I should forgive you for the sin you’ve brought into this church? Before our Lord and savior?” He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust. “How pathetic, now you’re crying?” he smirks as he pulls you back, body flush with his “Go on, let go.. Show me how much you really are sorry,” He coos in your ear. 

“Father - I.. I” your mind goes blank, your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks with one final thrust from Yunho, his name falling from your lips like hymns on a Sunday morning, he lets go of your hair, causing you to fall forward onto the altar as he pulls out of you, painting your back in his seed. The feeling of his seed on your back makes you shudder, the aftershocks of your orgasm pulling the energy out of you as you lay on the altar. Catching his breath, Yunho looks down at you, covered in his release and smirks.

”Whoever conceals their sins, does not prosper,” He breathes out  “but one who confesses it finds mercy.”

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

[yutassweetangel]

twinkle twinkle little star~(BLURB)

warning: FLUFF DUH, cuddling, friends to lovers? afab!reader x sleep deprived!yuta, nothing else really lmao a/n: omg omg omg!!! ITS BEEN LONG BRO- I WAS MAKING TWO FANFICS (gojo and yuta) AT THE SAME TIME. AND I'M NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH ONE MAYBE THE GOJO ONE BUT YUTA ONE AHHHHH SO A QUICK BLURB EEEKKKK

anyone who knows yuta would know him very well for one thing—— he was a sleep deprived fool. he would stay up all night, stressed about who knows what.

and you were really worried about him. imagine waking up, and coming to class everyday sleep deprived. you sympathized for the man and tried to help him with his sleep deprivation.

you started with pills. which unfortunately didn't work.. next you got him a more comfortable pillow. that should work, right? it almost did, but then he was worried whether he might sleep so well that he'll come to classes late. man this guy has anxiety....

the next was a plushie.

failed.

massage chair? made him comfortable, but no.

you tried literally everything to make this man sleep, and was about to give up until, just like a light bulb, something switched in your head. you had an idea.

——————————————————————————————————

"y/n, are you sure this is going to work?" yuta asked. you just barged into his room and said you had a plan to make him fall asleep. "yes, yes, now lay down and close your eyes." yuta, who was already visible confused, arched a brow before complying to your words. yuta laid flat, resting both arms on his stomach and his eyes shut.

"listen, y/n, I appreciate you trying to help me, but you don't have to-" yuta gets interrupted when he feels the warmth of another body next to him. his eyes flew open and he immediately turned into a blushing mess when he saw you cuddling him with your head on his chest and one arm wrapped up behind him. "y/nwhatareyou-" yuta hitches. the warmth of both your bodies made yuta suddenly feel drowsy. suddenly, you started to sing a lullaby that yuta was awe-to familiar with. "twinkle, twinkle, twinkle star~ how I wonder what you are—"

"pfft." you stopped singing and your frowned, knitting your brows together. "is something funny, Mr.okkotsu?" you said, holding back your laugh to try and be serious. "no, no—"

yuta turned his body to face you, your faces now inches away from each other, one move could make your lips connect. "your singing is beautiful. the song is just—" yuta put a finger under his chin, looking away to think of the right word to use "funny?" you laughed, beautifully, your breathe touching his face and he smiled at this. making you laugh gave him a little pride.

"funny?" you repeated his words. "yes, funny. its just so, you know, old? so its funny." you chucked. "God, twinkle, twinkle little stars is funny now?" you asked and yuta nodded slowly. "well, it did help a bit. I feel slightly sleepy." yuta faked a yawn and you rolled your eyes. "shut up." you said before yawning. "it seems your the tired one." yuta shifted closer and pulled you in for a hug. "was your plan to cuddle me to sleep?" yuta asked, teasing a bit. "yeah.." you asked, slowly loosing consciousness. "it's was great idea cause its working." yuta said. he watched as you closed your breathe and your chest heaved up and down. yuta smiled down at you, slowly falling asleep himself. he shifted even closer, closing any gap between you two.

"twinkle, twinkle little star... how i wonder what you are.."

divider credits to: @/enchanthings

[multifandomgirl08]

Give Me Eyes To See [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Nikita's first few days at home. Flashbacks to moments from the reader's pregnancy.

Warning(s): Flashbacks, Mentions of giving birth (Non-graphic)

A/N: All of the Flashbacks are individual things that were written that I condensed into this. The last flashback could have been its own part but I thought it fit better here. Title taken from the song Home by Corey Taylor.

Words: 2.7k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Max had grown to love the backyard. It was a big reason as to why they had chosen this house when he and Y/N had talked about moving.

It was quiet and peaceful here. It made time slow down and made him appreciate the little things in life. Like the little bundle of blankets that he was holding in his arms.

Max had never thought that he would be a father before he retired from racing. It was never in the cards for him. Nico had been a surprise in his life and Nikita had also been unexpected. The first time that Max had held Nico he thought he was small. Nikita was even tinier for just a few days old.

He was eating every three hours and wasn’t letting Y/N get any sleep. Max rocked Nikita as he slightly whimpered in the bundle. He was enamored with him.

Something so small that he helped create that had been in Y/N’s belly was now in his arms.

“I… I know that you are new to the world.” He muttered as Nikita dozed in his arms. “I just want you to know that as your Papa, I’ll do everything that I can to be there for you. I may not be there every day like your Mama, but I love you just as much.”

He laid his hand over Nikita’s chest, feeling the faint rise and fall of his little breaths under his hand.

As Max held Nikita, he couldn’t help but think back to the first time that he got to hold Nico. From the moment that both of his sons had come into his life, he knew he was going to do everything that he could, to do right by them.

August 7th, 2025

“What do you think about Nikita for a name?” You asked Max.

Max had just spent the last few hours trying to figure out the directions to put together the furniture that would be going in the baby’s room. After spending a few hours figuring out how the directions worked, he was now sitting on the couch in the family room with you looking through a book filled with baby names.

Max’s first thought was of Nikita Mazapin. He didn’t want a child of his, named after him.

“No.” He simply said.

“It means victory in Russian.” You offered while stroking your growing bump.

Now Max was even more against the idea. In the last few weeks, you had this idea of the baby having an Ni name like with Nico and you hadn’t let the idea go.

Max had put his gaming controller to the side pausing the current Fifa game that was on the screen.

“What about if it’s a girl?” He asked. He liked the possibility of there finally being a girl in the family. Victoria had two boys and he had Nico. Maybe it would be nice to have a little girl walking around that looked like you.

“Well, we’ll see when the baby finally comes.” You had both agreed that you wanted the gender of the baby to be a secret.

“But if it’s a boy, I know that I want him to have the middle name Daniel.”

Max couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “Daniel?” He questioned. “My son, named after two F1 drivers. Nikita Mazapin and Daniel,” Max was okay with the baby’s middle name being taken from Daniel, Daniel was a good friend to him, a good uncle to Nico and he had been a great teammate.

You couldn’t help but look at him slightly confused. “Nikita Mazapin? I was thinking Nikita for Niki, like Niki Lauda.”

“Then why not Nikolaas, it’ll still be shortened to Niki.”

“This baby doesn’t really feel like a Nikolaas.”

“How about we make a deal? The baby is a boy, I’ll let you pick the name, anything you want. But it’s a girl I get to pick.”

Even as you agreed with Max, he knew in the end that you would get your way. He could never deny you anything. His second child, if it was a boy, was going to be named after Niki Lauda.

Max had come inside from sitting out on the terrace that led to the backyard. Nikita had been fussing a bit, probably due to the slight cold breeze this morning.

"Papa." Max heard from the hallway.

He looked up to see Nico standing outside of the door to the master bedroom. Nico was still in his pajamas holding the stuffed teddy bear that Charles had gotten him.

Max looked at Nico before moving his head to glance back at the bed where Y/N was still sleeping. He motioned for Nico to walk closer to him.

Since that moment that Nikita had come home with them, Nico had been curious about his little brother. How small he was. What type of food he was allowed to eat. When he could start to play with him.

Nico climbed onto the couch and scooted as close as he could to Max.

"Can I?" Nico asked, putting out his little hands.

Max nodded, placing the baby closer to Nico without putting him in his arms. Nico reached down to give Nikita a kiss on his forehead before the baby shifted in his swaddle.

Over the last few days, Max had noticed that Nikita wasn't a fussy baby. He only started crying when he was hungry or when he needed to be changed, besides that he just liked to sleep.

"He's small," Nico commented.

"Yes, he is. You were once that small too." Although Max had never gotten the chance to hold Nico when he was this small.

"No," Nico said with a shake of his head. Nico thought he was right about everything since Nikita had come home. As if, because he was Nikita's older brother he knew more now.

Max just nodded before Nico started to mumble at his younger brother. "Nikitha, Nikitha, Niki..." It seemed Nico had settled on before dropping his head against Max's arm and closing his eyes, his feet tucked under the blanket that was normally thrown over the couch.

Mother's Day - May 11, 2025

Everyone was coming over for Mother's Day, Max had Sophie, Victoria, her partner Tom, and Max's nephews flown in so they could spend the weekend with all of you.

Nico had already told both you and Max that he wanted to camp out in the living room with Luka and Lio when they came. Max had gone into the laundry room and pulled out extra sheets and pillows to make up the couches for the boys to sleep on. You had talked with Victoria about it and she was fine with it.

When everyone arrived you gave Victoria, Tom, and Sophie a tour of the house. The last time Sophie had been here was a week after you and Max got back from your honeymoon, and everything still wasn't unpacked. Victoria and Tom took in the house with fresh eyes, seeing the way that all of your and Max's things fit together in the new space. Nico, Luka, and Lio had gone into Nico's room to play with his toys.

The reason that you had invited everyone over was because both you and Max had been keeping the pregnancy to yourselves since you found out. You finally wanted to tell everyone since it was almost the end of your first trimester.

You had spent the first half of Sunday cooking before Max insisted that Sophie and Victoria take over for you. Sophie gave you a look that told you she knew that something was up.

When you finally sat down for dinner, food and drinks were going around the table. Tom went to fill the wine glass that was in front of you and you let him, wanting to wait to share your news until everyone had food on their plates.

You had been sitting to the left of Max when he reached for your hand, his thumb drawing little circles with the pad of his finger. You had initially planned to tell Sophie and Victoria that you were pregnant just after you and Max had gone back to the doctor. Eventually, you and Max agreed to wait until you were closer to the end of your first trimester.

About halfway through dinner, you could feel a set of eyes on you before looking up to see Sophie looking at you. She lightly tapped her wine glass with her finger before her eyes moved to yours which was still full from when Tom filled it earlier.

Max had taken the last bite of food off his plate before reaching for his glass to take a sip. His eyes traveled to you knowing that you couldn't drink any of the wine that was in your glass.

"I know that it is Mother's Day and we are all here as a family to celebrate the amazing woman in our lives who do so much for us," Max said lifting his glass. "So, Y/N and I have some news to share with you."

Everyone at the table was silent for a few moments before you spoke, "I'm pregnant."

Sophie and Victoria were quick to get out of their chairs hugging you and giving you their congratulations. Tom walked over to Max giving him a hug.

There was a piercing sound of chair legs scraping against the hardwood floor. Nico was quick to walk out of the room leaving everyone to walk downstairs with heavy steps. Victoria was quick to pull away from you and then Max moved his chair to follow after Nico.

You reached for Max's arm stopping him from following Nico, and then got up from your chair. You followed Nico into his bedroom, your fingers lightly rapping on the hardwood of his bedroom door. He looked up from where he lay in bed.

"Hi Mama," He quietly spoke.

"Hey," You moved to sit on the edge of Nico's bed.

You hadn't told Nico that you were pregnant thinking it better to wait a little.

"Are you sad that you're getting a sibling?" You asked.

Nico shook his head no, then shifted in his blue sheets dropping his head against your arm.

"You're my Mama," He whined. You moved to run your fingers through Nico's hair like you would do for Max. "I don't wanna share."

So Nico was upset that he would have to share you with the baby. "You share me with Papa." You told him.

"No, Papa shares you with me." He argued back. You gave Nico a small smile.

When Max wasn't home Nico had all of your attention, and when Max was home, Nico shared you with Max until Nico had to head to bed.

"Do you mind sharing me with Papa?" You asked him.

Nico shook his head no.

"Do you mind sharing me when Luka and Lio spend time with us?" You asked.

Nico shook his head no again and then moved his head into your lap squishing his chubby cheek into the material of your pants.

You weren't really sure what you could say to Nico about this to make him feel better. You and Max were having a baby and Nico would have to understand that the baby would need attention, a lot of attention for the first few months.

"Nico, you know that just because Papa and I are having a baby doesn't mean that we're not going to have time for you."

It was a little odd trying to reason with a four-year-old, but Nico needed to know that having a baby in the house wasn't going to change how much you loved him.

"You forget me with the baby." he blubbered.

"I'm not going to forget you, and neither is Papa." You pulled him into your lap so he could rest his head on your shoulder. "No one is going to replace you." You kissed Nico's cheek and then his hair. You looked up to see Max leaning against the doorway.

He quickly walked inside and sat on the other side of Nico. Nico looked up at Max before laying his head down again.

"How much did you hear?" You mouthed to Max.

He moved his index finger in a circle as if to say all of it. You nodded.

"Nico," Max started. "Mama and I love you, and there being a baby isn't going to change that."

Nico moved away from you and turned toward Max, "Not true."

This was one of those moments where you could tell that Nico had gotten his stubbornness from Max.

"It's true," Max said. "Mama and I are going to be busier taking care of the baby. But we're not going to love you less."

Nico threw himself into your arms, "Baby can have my toys, not my Mama."

Part of you wanted to laugh, Nico was quick to give up all of his toys before he was willing to give you up. You and Max shared a look before you both smiled at one another.

"Well, what if we told you that the baby was for you to have someone to play with?" You asked Nico.

Nico looked up at you before looking over at Max, he furrowed his brows in confusion. "I play with the baby?"

You nodded at Nico. "Yes, and you can share all of your toys with them, and get to go swimming together, and come to Paps's races."

"It's your job as the oldest to protect your younger sibling like I do with Auntie Vic." Max pointed out.

As you and Max told Nico more about the things that he got to do now that he was going to be an older brother you could tell that he was slowly coming around to the idea.

Later on in the evening after the table was cleared Nico and his cousins ended up all asleep on the living room couches while everyone else went out to the back patio. You ended up curled up against Max, his hand on your growing bump while talking with Sophie and Victoria. It was mostly the same stories that you had heard about Max as he grew up. Tom was talking with Max about the end of PSV's season before you all called it a night.

The sound of light voices woke you up, you were tired from the lack of sleep and turned towards Max's side of the bed to see the clock read one hour until you had to feed Nikita again.

You slowly sat up seeing Max, Nico, and Nikita all on the couch that the bed overlooked.

"When can we play?" Nico asked.

"He's too little to play yet," Max replied.

"But Mama said that I could play with him when he came."

"Nico, he's too young to play right now, but once he's older you can play together."

You shifted in the sheets a bit letting out an uncomfortable groan trying to sit up against the pillows behind you. Your pregnancy had gone as smoothly as possible, and the birth was close to perfect. However, you were still sore in your abdomen. Your OB told you if it didn't go away by the next time she saw you, she would end up prescribing you something mild so you could still breastfeed Nikita.

"Mijn leeuwin, are you okay?" Max asked turning away from Nico towards you.

You silently nodded, "Fine, just sore."

Nico had abandoned Max on the couch climbing into bed with you, scooting close in the king-size bed to lay next to you his feet hanging off the edge of the bed, clutching the little brown bear in his arms.

Max got up from the couch and slowly walked over before getting under the bedsheets again, you helped pull back the sheets while Max moved Nikita in his arms to his other side. Nikita's head lay against Max's shoulder still sleeping with Nico throwing his arm over your middle.

You looked over at Max, he pressed his lips together and you knew that he was trying to hold back a few tears before a wide smile broke out on his face.

"I love you." You mouthed silently.

"I love you too." He said back. He quickly reached up and kissed your hair as you snuggled in closer to his side.

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