#MAYBE DON'T READ THE WRITING BIT AT THE BOTTOM IT'S A BIT EMBARRASSING

[nereidprinc3ss]

please don't say you love me

in which fwb!spencer reid and fem!reader get into an argument about the nature of their relationship.

18+ (implied intimacy) warnings/tags: friends with benefits arrangement, it goes bad, reader is so clearly anxious avoidant, reader is so me-coded, self-loathing, difficulties with emotional intimacy, arguing, derek and penelope make an appearance woo, a little dramatic, no happy ending (a nereidprinc3ss first!) a/n: it happened guys I stopped writing for a few days and last night randomly was inspired to finish this fwb piece and it essentially turned into a vent and went a completely different direction than i thought it would but here we are!!! i hope you enjoy, I loved writing, ilysm

“Are you reading it? Did you get to the part yet?” You ask, buzzing as you peer around Spencer’s arm to see where he’s at in the book you’d handed him. Sometimes you think it takes him longer to flip the pages than to read them. 

He doesn’t answer, but you see the flickering quirk of his lip like something is amusing him. It’s been a few minutes and he’s maybe halfway through. He has to have seen it by now. 

You’re clinging to his arm, eyes darting pointlessly between the text and his face, searching for a reaction. It comes in the form of a furrowed brow, a disbelieving smile, and something between a barking laugh and an exclamation of, “what?”

“You read it?”

His eyes narrow and he flips back a page, taking a bit longer to reevaluate. 

“Our moans and grunts drowned out the screams of the dead and dying only a few hundred feet away.”

You giggle furiously, clapping a hand to your mouth when you snort, and you feel Spencer’s focus shifting to you, even with your eyes screwed shut. 

“And you read this whole series?”

At that you sober up some, still hiding the bottom half of your face and brows drawn sorrowfully as mirthful tears well. You’re slow to admit your guilt with a nod, and his expression is somewhere between horror and fascination. 

Your cheeks heat and you cover your face, laughing again and shaking your head shamefully as he ridicules you. 

“Why? Why would you do that to yourself? I don’t even know if I can be seen in public with you, that’s—” he’s haphazardly tossed the book back on its display table and grabbed your wrists, pulling gently and laughing too. “No, show me your face. This is—you need to explain yourself. This is unforgivable.” 

“No! I swear it was a morbid curiosity, I didn’t like it, I’m sorry! I—”

“Reid?”

You both freeze. 

It’s not the most dignified position, admittedly—hidden among the shelves in a bookstore, pressed too close to be friendly, his hands around your wrists. 

So you don’t mind when he drops them like hot potatoes and gives you a few inches of breathing room. 

“Hey! Uh—you’re—”

Spencer is looking between you and two other people at the end of the aisle—a quirky bespectacled blonde in a flouncy polka-dot dress and her taller companion, ripped and head shaved, sporting some impressive eyebrows. Right now they’re conspicuously raised—his eyes are also pinballing between you and Spencer. 

For a moment, everyone is just sort of… looking at each other. 

It’s a little bit… awful?

Finally Spencer clears his throat. 

“Um, what are you guys doing here? Just… looking at books?”

Something is off, and you feel like shrinking or running, but you just stay glued to your spot. 

In sync, they hold up copies of the same book—and it takes you not a second to place the author’s name, in imposing red font at the bottom like it’s important. Rossi. 

The pieces click into place. These must be Spencer’s co-workers—Penelope and Derek, if his descriptions of the team have served you well. Part of you is starstruck. Part of you is embarrassed. They’re clearly shocked to see Spencer with a girl in the wild, so you know he hasn’t told them about you—and why should he, you think, why should he tell his friends about the girl he’s been sleeping with for months now? 

Finally, the blonder half of the duo speaks. 

“You’re—this is a girl. That’s. Who is that? Hi! Who are you?”

She’s literally pointing at you, eyes drifting between you and Spencer like it just doesn’t make any sense. Derek gives her a look and gently pushes her hand down. 

“Hey. That’s enough.” Then he offers you a polite smile, though you sense a bit strained, and his eyes too keep wandering back to the man next to you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no! You’re not… interrupting…” Spencer trails off and you sense he’s looking at you and gauging a reaction but you’re just smiling idly at his friends and waiting for this to be over. He finally thinks to introduce you by name, and you offer a shy wave and a smile to your new acquaintances. 

Penelope points (that damn finger again) but this time it’s less accusatory, and stays below chin level. 

“Cool shirt. I love that band,” she offers genially. Your brows raise and you look down, trying to remember what shirt you’d tossed on before leaving Spencer’s apartment an hour ago. 

“Oh! Thanks,” you smile, and you’re relieved to mean it this time. 

Another frosty silence begins to descend, but Derek doesn’t let it settle so much this time, to everyone’s satisfaction. 

“Alright, well. It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your date.”

There’s too much weight on the last sentence, and Derek gives Spencer a eyebrows-raised-meaningfully look you don’t understand. You’re just glad Spencer keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t immediately insist that it’s not a date, because it’s not, and that’s fine, but the vehement denial would bum you out. 

The pair walk away in the kind of clenched silence that means they’ll start fervently whispering as soon as they are out of ear shot. You watch their retreating figures and chew your lip, sensing that the carefree and playful energy of five minutes ago will have evaporated by the time you turn back to face your companion. 

“Strange,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, and you’re slightly jarred when Spencer replies from beside you. 

“Which part?”

All of it. 

Turning to face him, you smile, and it doesn’t reach your eyes but it doesn’t need to. 

“Oh—nothing, sorry.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, only stares at a point somewhere above your head and narrows his eyes like he’s thinking unpleasant thoughts. 

“Was I an asshole, to you, just now?”

It’s unexpected. You don’t have an answer prepared, so you say something that feels like a lie because you can’t prove that it’s not the truth. 

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know. I get weird around them, sometimes. I don’t always know what to say, like, when my personal life and my work life intersect, because for a long time I didn’t really have a personal life. And I think they still think I don’t know how to talk to girls, so…”

“You don’t know how to talk to girls,” you remind him. “Let’s go look at the puzzles.”

Maybe you spend too much time with Spencer Reid. Maybe that’s the problem—too long in his presence and he’s eating away at your neural tissue like you’ve got cysticercosis and he’s the T. solium (a terrible thing he had explained to you a few weeks ago.)

Maybe you need a break from him, to stop breathing his air and sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothing, because you’re forgetting that he’s not the entire world and that is a very bad thing to forget in a situation like yours. The entire world cannot be the size of his apartment. 

But you also just like him so much. As a friend, of course. That goes without saying. You like his strange sense of humor, and the way he lights up when you ask him an obscure question. You like your legs across his lap while you watch his old shows. You also like being kissed by him, and hugged by him. You like being taken care of like no one has ever taken care of you, and you like the way he always touches you, soft and kind and so on purpose. 

You never meant to like him so much. 

This affection—it has grown, insidious and parasitic, and now that it’s been pointed out to you like a lump in your side, it’s impossible to ignore. 

What you and Spencer have works precisely because you’ve kept things platonic and casual. That way, there’s no worrying about emotional baggage or arguing about feelings because there are none to be found and no precedent that any such things should or need to occur. You can’t hurt each other’s feelings if your feelings aren’t on the table. 

So why can’t you stop thinking about earlier?

Why can’t you help caring that he’s been keeping you a secret from the people he loves most?

“So, essentially the book is his first deep dive into meta-fiction. It was pretty revolutionary at the time, and while not his most celebrated novel, I’d argue it was his most relevant and culturally pervasive. I’d actually love to hear your interpretation of the story—it’s truly different for everyone. It’s a little like… like a literary Rorschach test. Do you wanna borrow it?”

You’re a tangle on his bed—arms, legs, sheets—it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins. All you’re sure of is his hand, tracing his fingers in chaste lines, feather-light up and down your inner thigh in the way he knows you like. Usually it’s so soothing you melt and fall asleep within minutes. Right now it’s only stoking some sparking electrical fire in your chest—the buzzes and bursts from which have you on edge. Ready to cave in at any second. You wish you could relax. You’ve been trying.

Spencer is in no hurry for you to respond, and so doesn’t seem to mind when it takes you a long while to find your answer. 

“I think I need to go home.”

It comes out too scratchy, as you haven’t really spoken for several hours. Not as casual as you were going for. He angles his head down toward you and his hand stops and you realize it’s actually worse like that. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything is fine, I just… I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight, I think.”

It’s late and you shouldn’t be making him drive you across town, but he’s always amenable to what you want. This is the longest you’ve ever stayed at his place, after all—a rare long weekend—and before that a few weeks had passed with no cases to speak of, during which time you’ve been staying with him more and more. Spencer seems to be completely content letting you eat his food and use his shower if it means you don’t leave. 

“I know the feeling well,” he admits, and your heart twinges with the care he takes to not bump or bend you or pull your hair as he shifts. He’s already been out of bed, and so is more dressed than you. Really, most people on the planet are more dressed than you, and you pull his nice sheet higher up your chest as he sits on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you and with a sort of worry in his eyes. He finds your knee through the fabric. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Stop paying such close attention, you want to tell him. And in the same breath, please don’t ever look away. 

“I’m… good.”

It is easily the least convincing performance of your life. Either you’re self sabotaging or you want him to push you further, and you don���t know which is worse. 

When his brow ramps just the slightest bit, you know you’ve fumbled it. 

“I don’t believe you.”

You shrug. “I don’t need you to.” And then you sit up, still holding the sheet to your chest. “Can you hand me a shirt?”

Enough clothing has accumulated around the room recently that he could pretty much reach out in any direction and find something for you to wear.  He grabs a sweatshirt hanging from the bedpost and holds it out for you, and you pull it over your head, before dropping your feet onto the cool wooden floor and grabbing the first bottoms you see—a pair of floral pajama shorts. How have so many of your clothes ended up at his apartment?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You scoop your bag up from a chair and flit around the room, haphazardly stuffing away discarded clothing to take back home. It’s true that it’ll be nice to get back to your stuff—your shower products and your closet and your silk pillow cases. You shouldn’t be spending so much time here. It’s not your space and you’ve been sacrificing your own needs to be closer to him, which is something you’d rather not do for any man. 

“You can drive me home. I’ll send you gas money.”

“You don’t need to send me gas money,” he says, tacking your name on to the end of the sentence in a way that raises your hackles instantly. 

“Yeah, I do. You drive me around constantly. I’ll pay you back and start taking the metro, or something.”

“I don’t want your money,” he scoffs. 

“Fine. Then I’ll call a car.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m happy to drive you.”

“Why?”

Silence hangs. Spencer has by this point stood up, and he’s watching you with a furrowed brow and slightly parted lips like he doesn’t understand where this animosity has come from. Honestly, you’re not entirely sure either. You didn’t realize you were harboring so much of it. 

“Am I supposed to see you as an inconvenience?”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“No. You’re not. We have a relationship and I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure as hell were thinking it. 

It feels good to say, like stretching a sore muscle beyond its limits or pressing into a bruise until you get past the ache. Sometimes when things hurt, it’s best to feel the pain and move on. 

He looks absolutely perplexed, the lines between his brows only ditching deeper. 

“Is that what this is about?”

“Oh my god, Spencer, no, I don’t care—”

“Because earlier at the bookstore I asked you if I was being an asshole and—”

“I do not give a fuck about earlier at the fucking bookstore!”

It’s too late to be yelling, but he doesn’t scold you. He just sort of looks at you, like you’re something mildly unpleasant. It makes you feel worse. 

A long moment goes by. 

“Fine. I’ll take you home.”

You let him brush past you, nothing more than a breeze on your shoulders as he disappears from the darkened bedroom. For a moment, you can’t follow him. All you can do is stand there and try to contain that sour, stinging, crying feeling in your eyes and nose because there’s no reason for you to be crying right now. 

From the living room, he calls, rather abrasively, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” you huff, and it is as wavering as it is insolent, so obviously the only word holding back a full-fledged deluge of tears. 

One minute. One minute to sniffle and take deep breaths and wipe abashedly under your eyes because you refuse to be dramatic about this. Refuse to get over-emotional. You will not let it matter this much to you. 

When you decide you can show your face without making a scene, you march out of his bedroom and straight past where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, keys in hand, to the front door. 

He doesn’t move. You burn smoking holes into the dark wood of the door with your eyes, and the two of you are apparently at an impasse. 

“I’m ready,” you eventually snap, always the impatient one between the two of you, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. 

“I’m not.”

“You said you would—”

“I know what I said,” Spencer cuts you off and shuts you up, “and I changed my mind. I’d prefer to talk about it before I take you home.”

By the time he finishes the sentence you’re already wrestling your phone from the depths of your bag in search of a ride sharing app. 

“Okay, well I’m done talking because I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, so—”

“No, you’re done talking because this is what you do. You can never admit it when you want something because that would mean acknowledging that you’re a human being with emotions, and that’s too scary for you.”

Surely you misheard him. You turn around, a deep frown contorting your features. 

“Excuse me?”

He only looks at you in that expectant, knowing way of his. 

“It’s too scary so you run away. You’d rather burn your relationships to the ground and rebuild them with a new person every time than actually let someone in.”

“You don’t know me!” You yell.

“Do you actually think that’s true?” Spencer says, pushing off his perch against the counter, voice shrilling and raised slightly as he gets visibly agitated. “You think I’ve spent hours upon hours with you and I don’t know you at all?”

“You have no idea what I’m like in a relationship because this isn’t one. You have no fucking idea what I want, so do not presume to,” you seethe. 

“You want a relationship. You wanted my friends to know you and you didn’t tell me that because you’re fucking terrified of the fact that I do know you. You can’t stand the idea that regardless of how many times you tell yourself it’s just sex, you have been vulnerable with me, and you’ve told me things you’ve never told anyone before, like why your last three relationships really ended, and how you constantly self-sabotage when you’re on the verge of getting what you want because you think you don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up!”

“No. I’m not just going to let you walk away from me like you did everyone else who could’ve ever cared about you because I know once you walk out that door you’ll stop responding to my calls and texts and I’ll never see you again, which is a juvenile pattern and completely unsustainable if you don’t want to keep pushing people away for the rest of your life!”

“God, Spencer, stop!” You sob, staggering back like you’ve been stabbed. 

The urgency, the raw, desperate scratch of your voice, stops him in his tracks. 

Every place an arrow penetrated a chink in your armor aches, and it hurts so much worse because he knew exactly where they were. You don’t know when or how it happened, but he’s right. Despite your most valiant efforts, Spencer Reid knows you. Somehow he crept in and grew over every limb like ivy. It’s crawled over your feet and up your legs and it’s keeping you there, rooted in place in his apartment, sobbing silently into the crook of your arm because you feel utterly paralyzed with fear. 

Just as he’d said. 

It’s silent for a long stretch of time, unquantifiable the same way the distance between the beach and the horizon is unquantifiable. It’s sprawling and infinite and desolate. The only relief from the drowning quiet is the occasional gulp of air or gasp from you which furthers your humiliation. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer finally whispers, soft and unsure like rays of weak sunlight over staggered tides, in the grey morning after a raging storm. It’s an attempt. It’s earnest and afraid. 

The energy radiating off of him is so tangible that you can sense his desire to come near. To hold you. But that would be your worst nightmare come to fruition. This—this warbling and crying in front of him in silence in his dark apartment is god-awful enough. But to be comforted? For him to bear witness up close and personal to your humility and your ugly, jagged pieces—that inspires true catatonia. That is everything he said you were afraid of, and he was right. 

You resent your human nature, and the fact that you care how his friends look at you and that it stung when they did so with little more than apathy. You hate that you care that he hasn’t told them about you. You hate that you feel so unimportant—because more than anything, you want to be fine with being unimportant. 

You want to be fine. Constantly. 

You hate that you feel. You hate that you care. 

But you always have. And so fucking deeply. 

Somehow, Spencer Reid is the only one who has ever noticed. 

Eventually, his self-restraint snaps and he surges forward at the same time as you take a shuddering inhale and step back. 

“Please don’t touch me,” you whisper. Afraid that if he did, his fingers would only sink into your flesh like decaying fruit. That you would disintegrate in his hands, and he’d finally see you’d been rotten the whole time. 

He speaks softly, holding his hands up to show you he’s not a threat. 

“Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll—”

“No. I don’t want a ride. I’ll get a car.” You speak quietly. Efficiently. There’s no point in pretending this doesn’t feel catastrophic anymore. 

His brows furrow. Like a moth to flame, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he draws nearer again. 

“I’m not comfortable with you on the street at this hour.”

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” you insist, pleading, a wounded animal, because he doesn’t seem to understand how every casual notion of kindness is a violence, how he’s ripping into you and making it so you’ll never be able to put yourself back together. He can’t be kind like you’re easy to be kind to. 

If you’re easy to be kind to, you are just as easy to hurt. Accepting that kindness is a sort of vulnerability you feel you can’t afford right now. 

Another moment of silence, of stillness, as if you’re both bolted to the ground where you stand. 

When he speaks it’s a blow to the chest because you’ve made him cry too. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, quietly, and a venomous self-hatred drips down your throat. Because you’re doing it again.

Maybe this is all you will ever be. 

You fail to stifle a sob and Spencer steps closer still, saying your name desperately and so quietly like it’s his last rite. 

And you try. You try harder than you ever have to stay in one place, to get a hold of your vibrating and to swallow all those slithery feelings and ignore every alarm telling you to panic when he reaches out to touch your arm because it’s never safe to let people in. But when his hand finally brushes you, it’s like a cow prod. You jolt backward. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you whisper all in one harrowed breath, and there’s so much you’d like to say—you’re right, about everything, you do know me, you know what I want, I tried, I’m ashamed—but none of it matters. None of it is enough. He’s backed you into a corner of your own making, and the only way out is by pushing him aside even if it hurts you both. 

So you don’t say anything else. You leave him there, in the dark of his own apartment, and you disappear down the hall. 

Maybe this is all you will ever be.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 23

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

We are wrapping up loose plot threads so: Hungary 2024, WHICH I FIXED (kinda). My questionable understanding of racing strategy? Crocheting.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando had seen Lizzie nervous before—before a book signing, even before their first public appearance together—but this was an entirely new level. She was sitting in the passenger seat, gripping the hem of her sweater so tightly that he was surprised the fabric hadn’t ripped yet.

“Lizzie,” he said gently.

She exhaled sharply. “Lando, I don’t think you understand. Your sisters have read my books.”

“Yeah, they love them.”

“That’s the problem!” She turned to him, eyes wide with panic. “What if your mum has read them? What if she’s read the spicy parts? Lando, I wrote those scenes!”

He tried—he really did—to keep a straight face, but a laugh escaped before he could stop it. “Liz, I hate to break it to you, but my mum is a grown woman who had four kids. She’s not going to combust if she reads a bit of smut.”

Lizzie looked at him like he’d just blasphemed. “That’s your mum! God, Lando, you’re missing the point.”

“Oh, I have a point,” he said, still trying not to laugh. “And that point is, you’re making this way too big a deal.”

She scowled at him, whacking him with the back of her hand. “You’re being extremely unhelpful right now.”

He caught her hand, grinning. “Hey, I’m just providing perspective. But if you want to keep being nervous on your own, be my guest.”

Lizzie huffed but didn’t pull away from his grip. “Why do I feel like you’re enjoying my freaking out?”

He squeezed her hand, still amused. “Because it’s entertaining to watch.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the effect was diminished by the way she was worrying her bottom lip. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Lando bit back a smirk, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. “Maybe I am.”

“Your dad is a millionaire, Lando,” she muttered as they pulled into the driveway. “What if he thinks I’m using you for your money?”

Lando couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “What?”

Lizzie huffed, glaring at him. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a valid concern!”

He tried—and failed—to regain his composure. “You’re worried my dad is going to think you’re a gold digger?”

Lizzie nodded, looking at him with wide, earnest eyes. Lando bit back another laugh, shaking his head. “Liz, love, you really worry too much.”

“I’m serious, Lando!” she protested. “People talk, okay? And with your family’s background, I can’t blame them. How am I supposed to convince them that I’m not just some fangirl with a talent for writing dirty scenes?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, I am,“ she whispered.

“Come on,” he coaxed, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “They already love you.”

“They don’t know me.”

“They know of you. And they’re excited to meet you properly. Trust me, they’re more likely to make me uncomfortable than you.”

Lizzie lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

Lando smirked. “Because they’re probably going to tell you all the embarrassing things I did as a kid.”

That seemed to help—at least a little. She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “If they bring out baby photos, I’m taking pictures.”

“Traitor.”

“Survival.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before unbuckling his seatbelt.

Lizzie did the same, taking a deep breath. When Lando walked over to her side of the car and held out his hand, she took it, gripping it tightly.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, but she climbed out of the car anyway.

Mara jumped out of the backseat with a wagging tail, immediately tucking herself against Lizzie's side.

Lizzie laughed, giving the dog a quick scratch on the head. Lando watched her intently, noticing how tense she still was.

He moved forward, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Breathe,” he told her softly.

She let out a shaky exhale, leaning into his touch. "I'm trying," she muttered, sounding a little less nervous.

They began the short walk toward the door, Mara trotting happily ahead of them. Lando could feel Lizzie trembling a little under his touch.

“Remember," he murmured against her ear, "they’re going to be just as nervous as you, if not more."

Lizzie shot him a disbelieving look but didn’t have time to say anything as the door swung open.

The front door opened before they even reached it. His mum stood there, beaming, and before Lizzie could get a word out, Cisca pulled her into a warm hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to finally meet you.”

Lizzie tensed for a split second, then melted. “You too, Mrs. Norris. Thank you for having me.”

“Cisca,” his mum corrected, stepping back. “And please, we’ve been waiting for ages to meet you. Lando keeps you all to himself.”

Lizzie shot Lando a look, and he just grinned. “Told you.”

His mother stepped back, still smiling. “Well, now that I’ve got you in person, it makes sense why Lando's been so distracted." She cast a sly glance in Lando's direction. He just rolled his eyes.

"Mum," he said, a warning tone to his voice.

His mother just laughed, patting his cheek affectionately. “Oh, don’t you mum me.” She turned back to Lizzie, linking their arms together. “Now, come on. We’ve got lunch ready.”

Lando let them walk ahead, watching how easily his mum settled Lizzie. Even when he was a kid, his mum had always had a way of making people feel comfortable. Now, it seemed Lizzie was on the receiving end of that skill.

They headed inside, the rest of the family waiting in the living room. They all stood when they entered, and though Lando wasn’t surprised to see the eager curiosity on their faces, he still shot them a warning look. His brother in particular looked like he was preparing to say or do anything to embarrass him.

“Finally!” Oliver stood , arms crossed, grinning like an idiot. “The Elizabeth Treshton, in the flesh. Lando has been hoarding you." His brother wasted no time. “Alright,, I have questions,” he announced brightly. “First of all, how did this idiot pull you? Second, how long did it take before you realized he’s an absolute menace? Third—”

Adam Norris appeared in the doorway, shaking his head fondly. “Leave her alone, Oliver.”

Oliver just grinned. “No can do, Dad. She willingly signed up for Lando. I need answers.”

Adam shot Lando a look. “You should’ve known bringing her here would be opening her up to interrogation.”

Lizzie was trying hard not to laugh, but her eyes were sparkling. Lando couldn’t tell if that was from nerves or amusement.

"I have questions!" And there was his youngest sister. He should have known that neither Flo or Cisca were going to be normal.

"Of course you do," Lando muttered.

Flo ignored him and beamed at Lizzie. “I have questions too!"

His mother rolled her eyes at her children, stepping forward. “How about we hold off on the interrogation until after lunch?” She placed a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder, offering the slightest bit of reprieve. “I think poor Lizzie here needs a moment to readjust before we barrage her with questions.”

"But I have book questions!" Flo said quickly.

"And you can ask those during lunch," His mother assured her, steering Lizzie away. "Give the girl a chance to breathe."

"Fine, fine," Oliver said, flopping back onto the couch like a disgruntled teenager.

Adam chuckled. “Maybe try not to scare the poor woman off in the first five minutes?”

"Oh, no worries there," Oliver drawled. "She put up with Lando, right? Everything else will be a breeze."

Lando just rolled his eyes.

Adam laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “Don’t act like that comment wasn’t 100% accurate.”

Lizzie slipped right in the midst of his family, like she always had belonged there. Keeping up with his sisters' rapid-fire Q and A, his very fascinated toddler niece who kept staring at Mara, who sat next to Lizzie, as well-behaved as always...

It was almost surreal to watch the scene unfold. Lizzie was already comfortable with his family, chatting and laughing, easily deflecting questions and answering others. Even his sisters had given up their attempts at embarrassing him, too interested in Lizzie to bother with him now.

He watched all this, trying to keep the smile off his face. It wasn’t until his dad walked over and stood next to him did Lando realize he hadn’t said anything in a while.

Adam clapped Lando on the back, his tone warm. “You picked a good one, son.”

Lando’s chest filled with quiet pride as he watched Lizzie laugh at something Flo had said.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “I really did.”

He should have known that something was going to go wrong.

It started with Mara.

She’d been lying calmly at Lizzie’s feet one second, then suddenly sprang up, ears perked, tail stiff. She nudged Lizzie’s leg with her nose, then her arm. Insistent. Focused.

Lizzie stilled.

Lando was already frowning. “Liz?”

She exhaled slowly, looking down at Mara before turning toward him. “I’m going to have a seizure.”

Just like that. Simple. Direct. As if she were telling him it might rain later.

Lando shot to his feet. “What—what do I—”

A tense silence fell across the room as the others picked up on the situation. Lizzie reached out, fingers skimming Mara’s head as she struggled to keep her breaths even. She was already pale, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming on her forehead.

His mum was the first to recover, her expression calm but her voice sharp. "How do you want to handle this, sweetheart?"

"I need to go lay down," Lizzie said, her voice careful. "I should have a few minutes until it hits."

Everyone else was still reeling, frozen in shock, but Lando’s mind snapped into focus. “Right. Yeah. Come on.”

He crossed the room, gently tugging Lizzie to her feet. She leaned on him, her weight a little heavier than usual.

“Lando,” Adam said, “we can—”

“I’ve got it,” he said, cutting his dad off. He shifted Lizzie’s weight, supporting her as best he could. “Just...give us some space, okay?”

His dad nodded, clearly wanting to say more, but holding back for Lizzie's sake. Lando appreciated the effort.

He half-carried Lizzie out the door, Mara sticking close to them. The dog knew as well as Lando did – something was wrong.

The walk to his old room felt like it took an eternity.

As soon as they reached it, Lizzie was already moving, sinking down to the floor like she’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe she had.

"What do you need?" he asked her, sawllowing.

“Nothing,” she said. “You don’t have to do anything.” She stretched out, lying flat on her side, arms loose, legs bent just slightly. Mara settled near her head, pressed close but not touching.

Lando hated how practiced it was.

His pulse hammered in his throat. He dropped down beside her, panic clawing at his ribs. “Lizzie—”

“If you can’t watch it, I get it,” she murmured, voice calm, even as something flickered in her expression. “But don’t touch me.”

Lando’s hands clenched into fists.

“I— I can watch,” he said, even though his entire body screamed otherwise. “I’m not leaving you.”

Lizzie managed a weak smile, but her eyes were already going glassy. "Okay," she whispered. "But don't blame yourself." And then her breath hitched, and her body began to tremble.

And then she was gone.

Her body tensed, jerking suddenly, violently. Her hands curled, fingers twitching erratically. Lando could hear her breathing shift—harsh, uneven. It was awful.

He dug his nails into his palms, forcing himself to stay still, to stay calm.

It felt like forever.

In reality, it was barely a minute.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended.

Lizzie sagged against the floor, still, quiet except for her uneven breaths. Mara whined softly, nuzzling against her arm.

Lando moved carefully, shifting onto his knees.

“Liz?” he asked, voice tight. “Can you hear me?”

A long pause. Then, a weak murmur: “Mm. Hate that part.”

Relief hit him so hard he nearly choked on it. He exhaled sharply, pressing a shaking hand over his face. “Yeah,” he said, voice thick. “Me too.”

Lizzie cracked one eye open, exhausted but there. “You okay?”

Lando let out a strangled laugh. “Am I okay?”

Lizzie blinked at him like it was a genuine question.

“Jesus Christ, Lizzie.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “That was awful.”

She hummed, voice drowsy. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t—don’t apologize—”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

Lando swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Okay. But I still hate it.”

Lizzie sighed, shifting slightly, her limbs sluggish. “Me too.”

He watched as Mara pressed in closer, her body warm against Lizzie’s side. Lando reached out slowly, brushing damp hair away from Lizzie’s forehead.

She leaned into the touch, just barely.

Lando swallowed hard. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

Lizzie didn’t answer—already half-asleep in the aftermath.

But she was breathing.

She was safe.

And he would make sure she always stayed that way.

He wasn't sure how much time went by, but eventually, soft footsteps sounded at the doorway. He glanced up to see his mum standing there, her face pale, expression carefully neutral. She took in the situation for a moment, her eyes lingering on Lizzie before looking to Lando. There was a silent question on her face, and Lando nodded to her. She exhaled softly, nodding to herself, before speaking quietly.

"Is she alright?"

Lando's voice felt like gravel in his throat. "She's fine. She'll probably sleep for awhile."

His mum stepped more into the room, taking in the sight of Lizzie on the floor. A deep frown pinched her brow, like she was trying to hold back her emotions.

Lando looked back at Lizzie, reaching out and brushing his fingers gently over her damp hair. Just the sight of her sleeping peacefully was enough to soothe some of the wild panic from earlier, but his heart still ached.

"Does...has this happened before?" His mum's voice was quiet and careful, as if she were worried about upsetting him.

"I've never seen it," he admitted weakly. "I knew she had epilepsy. I have seen her after a seizure...but I never saw her seize," Lando admitted, swallowing. "How can a mother see this and then decide to leave?"

"Lando..." his mum's voice was gentle, almost like she was bracing him for something.

Lando's heart felt heavy. "I just don't understand how someone could—" he cut himself off when his voice broke, trying again. "I don't understand how someone could just leave their child like that."

His mum crossed the room, sitting beside him and pressing a hand to his shoulder. "I don't think most people will ever be able to understand that, hon. I can't," she admitted freely. "If I imagine that it's Flo or Cisca in her place...nobody would have gotten me away from my daughter," his mother said fiercely.

He swallowed down a lump in his throat, his voice tight. "That's because you wouldn't leave her," he said, voice low. "You'd never go without her. You'd fight to stay every step of the way. And you sure as hell wouldn't give up on her."

There was a beat as he stared at the floor, and he barely registered his mum wrapping an arm around his shoulders. She pulled him into a tight hug, and he couldn't help but bury his face against her shoulder, eyes stinging.

His breath hitched. "I just... I can't imagine just walking away from her."

"Then don't," his mother said simply. "Don't be like her mother. Don't walk away. Talk with her and the next time it will happen, it will still feel horrid. You'll never get used to it. But you'll learn to live with it."

The words hit Lando like a weight to the chest. For a moment, he just sat there, absorbing them. His first instinct was to disagree. He would never, ever be like Lizzie’s mother. He could never abandon her like that.

But then...

His mum was right. He'd never get used to the idea of him just standing by and watching while she suffered. No matter how many times he would see her seize, it would still be torture for him.

But this wasn’t about him. 

This was about Lizzie. Lizzie, who needed to live with an invisible illness that could be controlled to the best of modern medicine's knowledge, but never cured completely.

And Lando would rather live through the torture of seeing her have a seizure a hundred times than to let her go. To leave. To let her deal with it alone. 

***

Lizzie woke up feeling like she’d been wrung out, every muscle sore and heavy, her head pounding with the dull, familiar ache of exhaustion. She blinked at the ceiling, willing herself to move, but even that felt like too much effort.

Then she remembered.

Lando.

The seizure.

How he’d seen it—how he’d stayed.

Her stomach twisted.

Carefully, she turned her head.

Lando was lying on his side, facing her. He was awake. Had he even slept? His hair was an absolute mess, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, studying her closely.

Lizzie had always known this moment would come.

She’d warned Lando about it early on—matter-of-factly, no dramatics. She had epilepsy. She had seizures.

But knowing about something and seeing it were two very different things.

And she’d lost people to the latter before.

Her mother couldn’t handle it. The fear, the helplessness, the exhaustion of watching and not being able to do anything. It was too much. So she left.

Lizzie didn’t blame her.

But she also knew what it felt like to be too much for someone to love.

Lando held her gaze, the silence stretching painfully between them.

She swallowed hard, bracing for it - the looks of concern, the pity, the thinly veiled excuses.

Then Lando spoke, his voice rough and quiet.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I lost a fight with a freight train.”

Lando’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I figured.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Lizzie forced herself to push up onto her elbows, ignoring the way her body protested. “Lando—”

He cut her off with a shake of his head, his eyes never leaving her. “Stop talking.”

She went silent, staring at him. His gaze was like a steady weight, pinning her in place.

He inhaled slowly, as if steeling himself.

“I’m not going anywhere, Liz.”

Her breath caught. She'd been bracing herself for rejection, for distance. For fear and confusion and pity.

But Lando was just...looking at her. Just like that. Not like she was broken. Not like she was different now. He was just looking at her.

“You’re not?” Her voice was a whisper, vulnerable and terrified in spite of herself.

He shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Something stirred in her chest. Hope, maybe.

Or maybe it was something else.

She swallowed, trying to get control of her emotions. “Most people don’t stick around after they see it.”

Something flickered across his face—something sharp, something angry. “Well, they’re idiots.”

Lizzie huffed a small, tired laugh. “Maybe.”

Lando shifted closer, hesitating before reaching out. His fingers brushed lightly over her wrist, careful, almost hesitant.

“Did it scare you?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers curled around her hand, grounding both of them. “I hated seeing you like that,” he admitted, voice low. “Knowing and seeing aren’t the same thing.”

She sighed, exhaustion pressing against her bones. “No. They’re not.”

Lando shifted again, his thumb sweeping over the back of her hand. “Your mum couldn’t handle it.”

It wasn’t a question.

Lizzie swallowed. “No.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then—“I’m not her.”

Lizzie’s chest ached, and not from the seizure.

“I know.”

Lando’s fingers squeezed hers. “Do you?”

She let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I do.”

“Good.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words remained. “Because I need you to believe that I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes stung with held-back tears. She clenched her jaw, willing herself not to cry. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Lando’s expression remained steady, but she could see the determination in his eyes. "I do know that,” he said softly. “I know me, Liz. How I feel. What I can handle. And I can tell you with complete certainty that I’m not leaving. You can’t get rid of me now even if you tried.”

She tried to keep her voice steady, but her breath hitched on a stifled sob. “What if it changes though? What if one day you can’t—”

“Liz.” He cut her off, his tone firm but not unkind. “Stop it. Stop worrying about what-ifs. This is my choice. I’m staying. End of story.”

“But—”

He cut her off again, his grip on her hand tightening, as if he could force her to believe him through touch alone. “No buts. This is a non-negotiable for me.” He took another deep breath, his voice growing even quieter. “I’m not your mother, Liz. You are not too much. And I’m not scared. Got it?”

Something crumbled inside her, some long-held piece of fear disintegrating in the face of his steady, certain gaze.

Her throat felt tight, and she could feel the tears threatening to spill over.

“Got it?” He repeated, his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles.

There was something pleading in his voice—a silent plea for her to understand, to believe him.

And she realized in that moment, as he held her hand and looked at her with so much certainty...she did.

She believed him.

[imraespace]

SLEEPING OVER ! - having a sleepover with them

THIS includes : fanfiction genre: fluff, crack NOTE: a sneaky break from writing rin shshshs

PAIRINGS: ISAGI, NAGI WORD COUNT: 1.3k, 1.3k, (2.6k in total)

ISAGI YOICHI sleepover during a storm.

"Are you sure your parents are okay with this?"

Your words caught Yoichi off guard, too deep into his snack, the sudden voice broke his concentration.

The couple was currently out on a date and the sudden thought came into Yoichi's mind,

"Wanna sleep over tonight?"

"Huh?"

It was most certainly out of the blue, but who are you to turn down your boyfriend? You agreed to his proposal but no matter how many times he tells you that it will be okay, that thought in the back of your head can't seem to leave you alone.

Your worried face came into his view as he looked up from his snack to focus on you. The afternoon sun made home onto your face, blinding you a bit but it didn't bother you that much it seems. Before, you two were taking strolls here and there during the day but decided to take a rest at the local park, not many children were around anyways.

In your point of view, his half-eaten popsicle came into your field of vision, causing you to look up and was greeted with his comforting smile.

"Of course they will be okay with it, I already told them about you maybe once or twice.."

"You did!?" You blurted out.

You heard a small laugh coming from the male in front of you as your cheeks grew a bit warm from embarrassment.

"You're worried over my parents, have you told yours?" He asked.

Oh right..

"I.. forgot.. They would be okay with it anyways.. if I lie." You confessed, muttering the last part.

"Huh?"

"Nothing.."

He stared at you for a bit, taking in the small moment. His eyes shifted to the phone in your hand, watching as you searched for your mother's contact.

To pass time, Yoichi checked his phone as well and noticed a notification from his mother.

[4:09 P.M.] there are mentions of a storm soon, please come home soon!

A storm? He thought about it for a bit then turned to face you.

"There's a storm coming." You brought up, catching him off guard.

"Did you read my mind?"

"Huh?" You looked over at your boyfriend, accidentally locking eyes with him.

"No, my mom just told me." You simply said.

"Same with mine, can you come over?"

You nodded at his words but then dropped some news.

"She told me to not come home right now, she's scared I might get caught up in the storm.." You muttered, causing Yoichi's eyebrow to raise in confusion.

"Does she not know that you won't have any clothes?" He asked.

"..I told her I'm going over to a friend."

"..."

You huffed at his silence, rolling your eyes and then looked up at the sky.

"You think she will let me go if I told her it was a boy? And on the same day as well?"

"Well.." He muttered, having nothing to back him up.

"I can go, that's all that matters, right?"

"I mean, yeah.. But next time don't lie to your mom!"

"Yeah okay, I won't."

He, too, looked up at the sky, noticing that the afternoon sun that rested on your face is now slowly being blocked by gray clouds.

"Shall we go?" He asked.

You nodded at his words, gathering your belongings with the help of the boy beside you, mostly him taking everything.

Soon, you both made it to his house and his parents were the first thing you were greeted with as soon as you entered the household. You took in the shocked expressions and then Yoichi got to work explaining everything.

In the end, they were okay with it and warmly welcomed you in, sadly it was all covered up by the gloomy weather.

.

.

.

And now here you are, in the middle of a thunderstorm in your boyfriend's room. You stared out of the window, watching the raindrops forcefully make their way onto it, all to just slide down to the bottom.

The opening of a door broke you out of your zone as your head turned in the direction and saw Yoichi entering with a few clothes in his hand.

"I got some of my clothes from the clean laundry, you can use them for the night." He said, walking up to you and shifted his eyes on the window besides you.

You took the items out of his hand, staring at them for a bit then back up at him.

"Thanks Yoi, if you don't mind, I'll get dressed now." You muttered, with a small smile.

He nodded at your words, taking it as a sign to give you privacy and left the room. As soon as the door closed, you walked up to his bed and placed the clothes on it then began removing yours.

Placing the clothes over your body, the thoughts flew in. Every time you think about using his clothes, it always ignites you all over your body. It's not the first time, but the feeling will never die down, no matter how many times, it just grows.

The sound of the rain banging on the roof grew louder with every raindrop, deafening you from everything else. Storms are comforting in a way, the coldness and the sound lulls you to sleep, but this storm.. seems to be a bit different.

As soon as you pulled his hoodie over your head, the power went out, leaving you in complete darkness.

"..Hello?"

You asked out as if someone would respond. You blinked a few times, trying to adjust your eyes in the darkness but then thunder was heard, causing a small yelp to leave your mouth.

"Y/n?" You heard from outside the door.

As soon as you heard the familiar voice you ran up to the door, feeling for the knob and finally opened it. You were then greeted with a figure that resembles your boyfriend.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah.." You muttered.

He sighs out a small smile understanding the situation and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards his bed. He sits you down, placing himself beside you, and then reached out for his blanket, wrapping it around you both.

Another thunder was heard, followed by a flash of lightning, scaring you yet again and this time you grabbed onto your Yoichi, shoving your face into his chest.

He wrapped an arm around you as the other holds a flashlight he brought in and decided to turn it on. The sound of the click caused you to peek out, noticing the small light in his hand.

Still, no matter what, you refuse to let go of the boy, resting your face back into the comfort of his chest. He placed the flashlight at the end of his bed and wrapped both arms around you, covering your ears using his slightly larger frame, and slightly tighten his grip around you for comfort.

.

.

The storm grew louder, no signs of dying down anytime soon. As the raindrops filled his ears, he slowly put force onto you, guiding your back onto the soft mattress and rested your head onto his pillow. He shifted his body a bit, looking down at you and made out your relaxed expression and chest slowly rising and falling.

He stared at you, there was no need to protect you from the storm, yet he felt the need to hold on, stay close and cover your ears. Even though his ears are still filled with the raging storm, staring at you gave him a peace of mind, lulling him to sleep. Soon you both were wrapped together, no longer bothered by the storm.

The forgotten flashlight in the background, the beating of the raindrops on the window, and flashes from lightning filled the small bedroom yet the couple rested comfortably in each other's hand, peacefully snoring away.

NAGI SEISHIRO playing video games with him.

".. You're going to die.. moron.."

You heard for the umpteenth time. You let out a sigh, groaning on your boyfriend's bed.

You stared at the back of his gaming chair, wishing he could magically witness your boredom and annoyance behind him, but sadly his headphones were on..

"Why invite me over if you're gonna play with your online friends.." You muttered, glaring daggers at the back of his head.

Yet again, you rolled over on his bed, burying your face in the blanket, and let out another sigh. During your wallowing moment, your ears perked up at the sound of his chair shifting.

You stole a peak, checking to see what happened this time and saw his fist up in the air? Ah wait, he's playing with his friends, he probably won the game..

But what catches you off guard is him actually turning to face you with his signature blank stare, yet this one hid something.. His eyes lingered on your frame, taking in your slumped mood.

"Y/N.. come here for a second.." He muttered.

"Hm?" The sudden request, yet the first one for the night made you waste no time following his words, pushing yourself up and off the bed and slowly making your way towards him.

He stood up from his chair, disconnected his headphones from the PC, and grabbed your arm.

"What are you doing?" You asked yet still gave him permission.

He guided you to sit on his chair leaving you even more confused as to what he's trying to do here. He spun the chair, making you face the PC.

"I'm gonna teach you how to play league.."

"HUH?!"

.

.

.

This.. isn't your first time experiencing this, in fact this isn't the first time Seishiro insisted on teaching you how to play his favorite games, but you always turn down League of Legends, only because..

"This game is too hard to learn! The controls are so different and what do you mean the characters have their own difficulty level.."

"Stop the complaining.. you'll understand it. Promise."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his pinky. Using the chair, you turned to face him with a small pout and locked pinkies but seeing your expression, he took his large hands and squished your cheeks.

"Don't pout, it will be fun."

"Okay fine.."

His hands left your face and then pointed towards the screen.

"Choose your champion."

"Erm.."

Seems like a hard decision.. and he noticed your hesitation.

"If you wanna, I can show you the easiest ones."

"Please do that.."

With the guidance given, you were able to choose a champion called,

"Vex it is, are you ready?"

"Sure.." You muttered.

You heard movements from behind and then you felt his presence, leaning onto the chair, hand reaching out to guide you but then you heard a huff from him.

"What's wrong?" You asked him.

"This chair is gonna get in my way.."

You looked up, noticing his gloomy expression and then the obvious idea popped up in your head.

"Well then.." You started, standing up and invited him to sit.

"You'll simply become my seat!"

"Oh, that's smart."

And so, he sat on the chair and invited you into his lap.

"Now this would be easier.." He muttered, pulling you both up closer to the desk and started back his teaching. But, you were so eager to invite him on the chair, that you realized how much closer he is now. So much for teaching you, you're barely gonna pay attention..

With his body so much closer this time, pressed up against you, hands over yours, guiding you and teaching you the controls, the only thing you got out of his so-called teaching is nothing but misery..

But slowly, you ignored the warm feeling, realizing why he always seemed so angry while playing this game..

.

.

.

After the entertaining teachings, he decided to let you play your first match, with his online friends who had no clue who you even were. You let him do his thing, switched the tab onto Discord, and messaged in his group chat, all while you slowly died every time he leaned in closer and closer.

Just then, the signature discord ringtone was heard, causing you to look up at the screen and stay quiet, deciding that Sei should take control now.

"What's with the sudden call, didn't you log out first?" His friend asked.

To be honest, this is the first time you've even heard them.

"Yeah, but I need you all to hop on league again." Your boyfriend confessed.

"Why?" Another one asked out.

"I'm teaching my girlfriend how to play."

After that bomb drop the call went dead silent.

.

.

"Hello?"

"What girlfriend?" One of them joked.

"My girlfriend? The one that's here right now.." Seishiro muttered.

"..Wait really?"

"Y/N.." He softly said, giving you the go-sign to finally speak.

"Um.. I'm here.."

And then yet again, a silent call.

"Can we just play..?" Sei asked.

"Oh, yeah sure."

So now, finally with a team acquired, Seishiro switched back to the game, waiting for his friends to join the lobby.

"Y/N are you ready?" He asked behind you, tilting his head towards the side to view your current expression.

"I think so.."

You couldn't see, but Seishiro held a small smile on his face, wrapping his arms around your stomach and resting his chin on your head, taking in the moment of you finally playing one of his favorite games.

He thought of you bonding with his online friends but as soon as the match started, there wasn't much bonding happening..

"Welcome to summoner's rift."

You heard, and you did just as what you were told before. Your teammates made their way to their own lanes as you made your way to mid-lane.

Slowly getting through with the minions, you met the other team's mid-laner and the chaos started, as in you died.

"What the.."

"It's okay.."

Yeah, it is.. You told yourself, pouting a bit.

Here you are again, this time you started the fight! Then died.

"..It's okay," Seishiro told you, again.

This time, his hands reached up for the mouse, placing his palm over yours and guiding your movements.

"Let's play together." He said, cheering up your gloomed mood.

"Yes please.."

Soon, the game went your way and you actually began to enjoy it. His friends, your teammates, had some words to say here or there but without Seishiro getting the say in, you talked back. Soon.. you started sounding like your boyfriend.

The way you glared at him as he bad-mouthed his teammates or cursed randomly when he died, here you are doing the exact same thing with Seishiro behind, following your same actions.

He removed his hands, letting you take the lead, and placed them back on your stomach, leaning into you as he took in the game in front of him.

Without his help, being so deep into the match, and bossing around your teammates, you won your first match ever!

Your bright smile made its way onto your face and with that, you shifted in his lap and gave him a big hug.

"Can we play again? This time I want you as my teammate." You confessed.

"We can.. You need your own account."

"I'll make one."

And with that, the night ended with you becoming a secret league player and Seishiro buying you skins for Vex and other champions you've never played, but only mentioned them once or twice.

"I had no clue your girlfriend was bossy.."

"That sucks for you." Seishiro joked, in his own way. You flashed him your bright smile as you sat on his bed, using his laptop to look through whatever skins he got you. He turned back to his monitor and simply said,

"She's not even mean.."

"Yeah right."

IMRAESPACE || MASTERLIST

[revelboo]

I'm sorry for asking in advance. Feel free to ignore if you don't want, but could you give us some scrumbs about Cliffjumper? Whether it's TKO Part 8, some cute scenario, or a bit of smut, that's fine by you.

I love the way you write him. <33

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Scenario-Trust

Cliffjumper x Reader

• “You sure about this?” He asks. Knows you’re still hurting, you have to be to have been betrayed like that. And he’s turning and freezing as you let your robe fall to puddle around your feet. Those eyes uncertain and shy as they meet his optics then flick away. Trusting yourself to him and it’s humbling. Terrifying, too. The fear that he’ll fail you, break that trust twisting through him.

• Wrapping your arms around yourself as self consciousness kicks in, you wonder if maybe you read what’s between you two completely wrong. And if you just flashed your best friend. That to him, you’re only friends. Jaw clenching as your fingers dig little crescents into your arms, embarrassment has your eyes burning. “I’m sorry,” you manage, crouching to grab at your robe and fumbling to get it back on.

• Rocking into motion realizing you took his hesitation all wrong, he growls. Not at all surprised that he’s already ruining this. Kneeling in front of you, he catches your hands. And his spark hurts when you look up, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Frag,” he whispers, hating himself as he pulls you into his arms. Cheek brushing yours, before his mouth finds yours in a soft, too short kiss. “It’s not that I don’t want you. I do. More than anything, I want to claim you,” he says, trying to reassure you.

• “But?” Because you can hear it in his voice and he vents, head nudging yours as he cups your cheek and uses a servo to wipe away the tear. It’s not like you’d had the most confidence to begin with, but your fiancé had destroyed what little you had. You’d been worth so little to him, that he’d thrown you away without hesitation. You’re not sure you can take another rejection.

• “But,” he growls back, trying to get this right when talking’s never been his strong suit, always better at using his fists. “I want you to be sure this is what you want.” That he’s what you want. Because surely you’d prefer a gentler bot, someone who’d be better at this. And you’re just staring at him before you kiss him and shift against him. Straddling his thighs as your face reddens and you can’t seem to meet his optics.

• “I’m sure.” And he shudders slightly against you, his mouth moving against yours. Nothing like that gentle kiss a second ago, his mouth is a demand as he hooks an arm around you and slowly bends you back, lowering you with your legs hooked over his hips. And he nips you, the shock of his denta sinking into your bottom lip lighting through you to make you gasp. Feel something brush against you and when he breaks the kiss, you realize he’s freed his spike.

• Hands sliding to your hips, he rocks the length of his spike against you. Do you have any idea how many times he’s fantasized about this? How often he’s recharged curled around you and had to hit the washracks the next morning to deal with his aching spike? Growling when he tries to speak, his engine revs. Knows he’s not going to last long this first time. He’s imagined this too many times and you’re so wet as he keeps stroking himself against you, slicking himself with you. “Last chance to change your mind.” Because once he’s inside you, he’s not going to be able to stop. Isn’t sure he can even stop now.

• “Cliff,” you whine in protest, hips lifting. Because you know what you want. And it’s this rough around the edges bot who always puts you first, took care of you when he didn’t have, when you were awful to him. Finally he shifts over you, the head of his spike sliding against you before you’re arching with the slight burn of him stretching you. Hips pumping before you’re adjusted to him as you gasp.

• You’re so tight, soft and wet wrapped around his spike and he was right. He’s not going to last nearly long enough this round. Not as you make those noises for him, hips lifting to meet his thrusts. And he’s shuddering with a snarl, overloading to fill you as he swears and rests his head against your shoulder. “Not done yet,” he manages through gritted denta when you cup his cheek. Finding a rhythm as he begins to move against you again, determined to bring you with him this time. To be worth you.

[emeraldserenade]

okay i know the smut option definitively did not win but...maybe sneak in little bit of it, as a treat, mayhaps?? 👀👀

Enjoy the treat, lovelies. I know I enjoyed writing it. This is literally just an entire smut because I was not about to be mean and have you only see a little bit of it. But because I'm not giving anything away, there is such an unsatisfying ending to keep the mystery alive.

tw: fem!reader, smut, kinda dubcon but only because reader has the potion in her system even though it's not the reason she loves Joaquín, unprotected p in v, belly bulge, creampie, aftercare because Joaquín would never leave you afterwards.

➽──────────────❥

"Angel, it's just the potion talking," Joaquín held your shoulders as you tried to kiss him. It's not that he didn't want to, god did he want to, but it wouldn't be right for him to.

"Joaquín Torres, I have been in love with you for years, please," you were begging him at this point, and Joaquín was just a man after all.

"If I do this, do you promise that this isn't because of the potion," Joaquín was holding onto the last of his resolve.

"I promise, please," you tried to lean forward again and Joaquín met you half way. It was exactly what you wanted, both of you were desperate. It was clear he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You moved closer but he pulled away, you made a noice of protest.

"Angel, I don't want to take advantage of you, I know you say that this is what you want but," you cut Joaquín off my suddenly grabbing your phone. You should have thought it through more, the fact that Joaquín was about to see you telling one of your friends that you wanted to jump his bones.

"Look," you shoved the phone in his face and you watched as he read the messages. They were clearly stamped from way before you had the potion and they were detailed on what you wanted, if your mind wasn't so muddled from kissing Joaquín you probably would have felt embarrassed.

"Angel, why didn't you say anything before," Joaquín mumbled before grabbing your phone and throwing it aside. He practically pounced on you, his lips were everywhere. On your lips, your neck, jaw, your chest, everywhere he could reach his lips touched. You gasped as he gently bit your neck and heard his chuckle.

"Sam will be back soon," you told him, urging him closer to you.

"Then we better make this quick," Joaquín mumbled against your neck before you two started to undress each other.

Your clothes were thrown around the bedroom and Joaquín had you on the bed. You watched as he slowly kissed his way down your chest to your stomach all the way down to where you wanted him. He pressed a kiss to your clit and your hips jolted toward him. You felt, more than heard, his huff out a breathless laugh. Joaquín dived in, wasting no time, he kissed, licked, and sucked before gently adding his fingers to the mix.

You were a moaning mess, your hips were fighting against the hold Joaquín had with the hand that wasn't occupied, trying to get closer to him. You had one hand pressed over your mouth and the other was tangled in his hair, he groaned when you pulled it. You made brief eye contact before your eyes rolled in the back of your head when his fingers it your g-spot.

"Let me hear those noises, Angel," Joaquín pulled away long enough to tell you and you did as he said. Your hand that was over his mouth blindly reached down to grab onto his that was still at your hips.

"Oh god, Joaquín. I'm gonna," you didn't have time to finish your sentence before the waves of your orgasm crashed over you. Joaquín helped you ride it over before licking his lips and fingers clean, the ight turning you on even more. You hungrily pulled him down to your lips, the taste of yourself still lingering on his. You lost yourself in the kiss before you felt him prodding at your entrance.

You and Joaquín let out synchronized moans as he slid into you. He stilled as he bottomed out, letting you get used to it. When you nodded at him, only did he start to move. It was slow at first but he gradually built up his speed until he was slamming into you. You looked down and you could see where his dick was hitting your cervix. Joaquín looked down too and placed his hand over it, adding to your pleasure. You threw your head back with a moan as he shifted so his tip brushed against your g-spot before slamming into your cervix.

Joaquín leaned down to kiss you and you ran your nails down his back. You heard him moan and did it again. "I'm not going to last," you whined as he slammed into you particularly rough.

"Let go for me, come on Angel. You're doing so good and you look so pretty, let go," the mix of his words and the immense pleasure he was bringing you was the perfect mix to throw you over the edge. Your orgasm shook you to your core, Joaquín wasn't far behind. You could feel his release fill you up and you pulled him to lay on top of you. You two laid there in your post orgasm glow for a moment before v pulled out, both of you hissing at the overstimulation. "I'll be right back," he told you and you nodded, too fucked out to speak.

True to his word, Joaquín was back and with a warm damp cloth to clean you up. He threw it back into the bathroom before grabbing your bags to find something for the two of you to change into. He gave you some panties and one of his shirts before throwing on some boxers and his grey sweatpants. He laid with you, holding you to him as you two stayed silent.

"This meant something to you, right?" You couldn't help but ask, you needed to know.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[kuronarnze]

WE NEED MORE KURONA RANZE FICS!!!!

Is it alright if I request a fic with him? Maybe reader finds everything he does (repeats his words, his sharp teeth, just breathing etc) cute and gets cuteness aggression because of him (totally not projecting /hj) and bites him sometimes (or vice versa).

I'm glad to find another Ranze enthusiast, bro's pretty underrated and theres barely any fics so Im glad to see someone else writing for him!

(Not sure if you have any rules on requesting a fic since I couldnt find any so hopefully this is fine, love your writing!)

a/n: OMG YESSS this request IS SO CUTEEEE. omg fr, usually i don't see much kurona fics, but i realllyy love writing for kurona fics (+ i love kurona sm) !! Thank you so much for liking my works <33, uh yeah i havent made like any rules yet and also a masterlist, but ill try making them on dayy 😓😓. Thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy the oneshot !

Kurona Ranze x Reader

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊��꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

"Too Cute to Handle"

You swore Kurona was going to be the death of you.

Not because he was annoying. Not because he was frustrating. No, it was much worse than that.

He was too cute.

It started with the little things. The way he repeated certain words, like when he was talking about sharks and just kept saying “shark, shark, shark” under his breath. The way his sharp teeth peeked out when he grinned, making him look like a mischievous little creature. The way he would just exist—breathing, blinking, being alive—and it was enough to make your heart physically ache.

And you had a problem.

A really, really big problem.

You wanted to bite him.

Not in a weird way! Just in a cuteness aggression way! He was like one of those plushies that were so adorable you had to squeeze the life out of them. Except he was real. And bite-able.

And so, one day, you gave in.

You were just sitting next to him, watching him scroll through his phone, when you saw his sharp teeth poke out as he chewed his bottom lip. Without thinking—without any self-restraint—you leaned over and chomped down on his arm.

Kurona froze.

“…Did you just bite me, bite?”

You nodded, still lightly sinking your teeth into his sleeve.

He stared at you for a long moment before his pink eyes gleamed with realization. Then—before you could react—he bit you back.

“Ran!” you yelped, pulling away to cradle your arm. “Did you just—”

“You bit me first, first,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You gawked at him, but then a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Oh my god. You get it.”

“I do get it,” he nodded, grinning with those sharp little teeth. “You’re too cute too, cute.”

Your brain short-circuited.

This was it. This was how you died. Not from embarrassment, not from heart failure—but from Kurona Ranze and his dangerous level of cuteness.

…And maybe from a few more bites.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

Thank you sososo much for reading ! Have a nice day <3

[lavenderspence]

Spending time with you | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, reader can’t swim

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Training and swimming, he didn't really care about. Just as long as he was spending time with you.

Request: Hiii! I have a request that can be fun/funny and a cute read for a summer day hehe what about Hotch teaching reader how to swim? she’s been embarrassed to let him know she doesn’t know how to but since he’s getting ready for his triathlon (maybe another one, not the same as season 7 so a slightly older Hotch if you want🤭) and she’s joined him for runs and biking, the only thing left is the swimming! 🩷

A/N: this is the shortest thing i’ve written so far, but this mild writer's block has been kicking my ass. and so has my hyper-fixation on writing all my requests, babes is struggling. but yeah, this one is a cutie, so enjoy!

Ps: girly also doesn't know how to swim so - my husband's gonna take care of me, don't worry

Requests are CLOSED! | mastelist

You kicked your legs, letting the cold water splash around. You gripped into the edge of the pool tightly, as you looked on over, trying to see the bottom and failing. It wasn’t possible - at three meters deep, just looking at the darkness down there made your stomach rage with nerves. 

You swallowed, took a deep breath, and turned around to see him fastening a fitness watch on his wrist. 

The navy blue swim trunks he was wearing were highlighting his body well. He looked almost the same as the last time he’d done the triathlon - 4 years ago. But there were just a few small differences too. The smile lines adorning both his eyes and lips were now even more prominent. The small, but barely noticeable tummy he had was highlighted deliciously when he was wearing a dress shirt. And of course, the salt and pepper hair he’d decided not to dye this last time.

He looked good, he looked hot, but even his body, the whole package you’d forever be in love with, couldn’t distract you from the worry you felt, the mild fear. 

When he’d asked you to help him train for the annual FBI triathlon, you couldn’t tell him no. You loved spending the extra time with him - you loved seeing him active and you loved the goofy smile he got after a good run or some biking. 

Funny enough, you liked it too - the adrenaline, smiling in his direction, finishing up on a walk with your hands intertwined, a bit out of breath. The naps that followed after that were cuddling close to him, spooning him, and having him spoon you. 

After finishing up with the running and biking, the only thing left was swimming, which was why you found yourself holding onto the edge for dear life, your heart beating like crazy. Because, see, when you’d agreed to help your husband train for the triathlon, you’d forgotten to mention one very important detail - you’d never learned how to swim.

Three weeks of training and you hadn’t gathered the courage to tell him - so here you were, worried, overtaken by fear, watching as he jumped into the pool head first. 

Seconds later, he swam to the surface and took a deep breath. His hands pushed at the wet strands back, and he started swimming in your direction. 

He settled between your legs with a smile. His hands ran across your outer thighs, massaging the skin and getting them all wet. 

You reached for him, pushing a strand of hair off his forehead, before your palm settled on his cheek and you ran your thumb across his stubble. You loved the barely there facial hair he’d let grow in the last few days. 

“You ready?” He asked, turning his head to lay a small kiss on your wrist. You looked deep into his eyes, as you chewed at the inside of your lip. He must have seen, because he reached up and ran his thumb across your lips, pulling it out a bit to stop you from assaulting the tender flesh anymore.

Your heart pounded and you felt your palms warm up. 

“Actually, I need to tell you something first.” You whispered, as the feeling of mortification and embarrassment suddenly overtook you. So many years of your childhood, and your life were wasted, unable to learn something so basic. 

You watched as his brows furrowed in worry, his eyes shining bright in wonder, “What is it, honey?”

You bit at your lip again, only to have him pull at it again with a shake of his head. You pulled both your hands into your lap, and looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

“Idon’tknowhowtoswim.” You rushed to say quietly

“I don’t think I caught that, honey.” He pushed your chin up and searched your eyes for an answer.

You exhaled, “I don’t know how to swim, Aaron. I never learned.” You finally admit, eyes squeezing shut. 

It was quiet for a second. 

“Open your eyes, honey.” You did as he said, and watched as his finger ran across your rings, his own sparkling in the lightning, “Doesn’t matter that you can’t swim. I can teach you if you want, or you can just sit right here and enjoy the view.” His lips pulled in a small smirk before he kissed your sternum. 

“I don’t care if you train with me or not. I asked so I could spend more time with you. Either way, we’re together.” 

“You’re a good husband, Aaron.” You said as you leaned down to steal a kiss. He pulled you in as much as he could given the awkward position, and gave you a few quick pecks. 

“And you’re an even better wife, honey.” He whispered. 

In the end, you let him pull you into the water, holding onto him tightly as you floated around and he showed you the easiest way to swim. He held you, helped you, and hyped you up when you succeeded. He really was the best husband ever.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[prettyoatmeal]

Hey there! I'm new to your work, but I love reading through it so much. I don't know if it's already been done, but could you do a part two of the pegging request with a few of the others (ex: König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, etc.)? I notice you do a lot of 141, so I didn't know if you wrote others. Just thought I'd ask. ^^

CoD Charatcers and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them (König, Keegan, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria)

Warning!! nsfw, mdni, pegging, afab reader in mind using a strap, heavy dom/sub tropes, slight exhibitionism. A/N: Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't write one for König, but his time is now.. then plus some. Hi guys!! Its nice to see you again after a month (????)!!!

Part 2 to this.

Masterlist here!

***************

König I think would just be super confused at first. Not because he's against it, but because he's never thought about it before and is genuinely curious why and you'd find pleasure in that. He's supposed to be doing the fucking..? Why are you...? ...?!?!?!? And he's just scratching his head. But nevertheless, he agrees because he thinks he'd enjoy it though he can't help but be a little embarrassed because he's getting folded in half by his smaller partner.

Unlike Gaz or Soap, you'd need to be very gentle with him. He's a little bit tense when starting out. The lube is cold, the feeling of your fingers in him is unfamiliar, he wasn't used to bottoming like this. But he trusts you, so he isn't against spreading his legs for you.

Very quickly becomes very whiney once you start hitting against that perfect spot inside him. You feel him jolting a little, letting out a gasp and you know you got it.

His thighs squeeze around your sides, calves resting along your hips as you thrust into him with your bright pink strap. You thought it would've been awkward, not expecting the size difference and power difference to combine well, but it did. He keeps you close, his lips on yours at all times until he eventually buries his face into you neck only to moan and whine and cry into your skin.

All in all, it's sweet. He was definitely taken aback with just how much he enjoyed it, craving more and more from you.

"Schatz, p-please. Need more."

So you do the ol' reliable, placing a pillow under his hips, angling your hips just right. And it begins to drive him crazy. His pretty eyes roll back, his lips parted as he moans out your name over and over and over again like a mantra. His cock leaking like a faucet, his tip an angry red and begging for attention, a shiny layer of sweat covering both of you as your hips slap against his ass over and over again.

And it isn't long until he cums untouched, his back arching into the bed as he pulls you into a kiss and moans into your mouth.

**

Keegan is at I've seen characterised as a freak fr so I feel like he'd be similar to Gaz. If anything, he'd want you to fuck his brains out spontaneously.

He's very much the type to purposefully rile you up just so you'd end up pushing him up against the wall, or even tugging him by his collar to the nearest unisex bathroom. He can't help it! He's a massive slut for his lover. Therefore it's always a good idea to keep a strap on you where ever you go with him.

If you don't have any lube around, he's very adamant of you shoving your fingers into his mouth to slick them up. Maybe he'll even bite them a little just so you deliver a slap on his cheeks.

There's really no telling when he wants to stop pushing you. He'll actively fuck himself back on your fingers when they're inside him, going against anything you're telling him just so you be rougher with him. All in all, his main goal is for you to fuck him like you hate him.

With barely any prep, he lets out long whine at the first thrust inside him, wanting nothing more than to be used by you. One hand on his cheek pressing him into the wall, the other gripping at his hip as he arches his back into you.

"G-God, fuck. Harder, please!"

He's gets so vocal, barely able to keep his moans back. Lets out the sluttiest moans as he finally reaches down to quickly jerk himself off, spilling his load over the wall.

Definitely asks you to be rougher next time. He wants you to put him in a chokehold, wrap your hand around his throat and restrict airflow, bend him over and press his face into the bed, make him beg for mercy. Certified freak 7 days a week!!! Let's just hope you're ready to do all the chores around the place for the next couple of days because there's no way he'll be getting up without a stabbing pain in his ass.

**

Roach is really just a blank canvas character, someone that was created for people to insert themselves into his shoes. So with that being said, I'd think he's into it. Nuff said.

You wouldn't need to do all too much to get him to submit. If he's a blank canvas, then I'll make him into a masterpiece. First time with him would be the first time he's getting pegged, period. Unlike König who's a little tense, Keegan or Gaz who are a little too into it, Roach is a neutral.

It's easy to bend him over, press your hands down on him to keep his back arched like a cat, knead his plump ass a little bit. It's so cute that he'll take whatever you give him. Whether you're rough with him making him whine and cry, slapping his ass and spitting on him as you give him no prep, or coaxing sweet moans from him and praising him as you slowly push your slick fingers into his tight hole.

He starts getting so desperate, wanting nothing more than to beg for you to finally fill him as you press the tip of your strap. He wants to push himself back against it, his cock rock solid, dripping with his pre just at the thought of it. But he's too much of a good boy to do so.

So when you finally fill him with a quick thrust, it makes him go dizzy.

He's a real sight for sore eyes; ass in the air, your hands holding him arched and in place, his eyes fluttering closed as he buries his face into the bedsheets below him, the prettiest moans escaping his lips. Soft and breathy, his voice breaking every time you slam against his prostate. He's not as vocal, but there's no denying the sweet noises that are forced from his throat with every thrust.

He's such a sweet boy, completely melting into the bed as you lean down, a wide smile on his lips as you press kisses against the back of his neck.

"Please, please, please, please, please!"

He'd beg as you finally reach down to give his throbbing dick attention. He's definitely saying thank you after he makes a mess of the bedsheets.

**

Alejandro is another one where I don't see him enjoying it all too much. He prefers to do the actual fucking rather than getting fucked. He'll fuck you like it's his last day on earth, giving you the most mind shattering orgasms known to man. He's definitely a BDSM guy for sure, a rope bunny while at it. But when the tables turn, he's unsure about it. He really doesn't believe it's something he would enjoy.

Alejandro is proud of his masculinity, maybe he has too much pride, but being in a place of submission like that is embarrassing to him.

He'd feel awkward being in a place without control over himself which is why I feel the most he'll allow you to do is use your fingers.

Lubing your fingers up, he'll allow you to bend him over once, just once, and only to try it out. Safe word in mind, he caves and lets you bend him over the counter.

"No funny business." Out of everyone on the list, Alejandro is definitely the most hesitant.

Tensing up as you push a finger in, he almost backs out. But knowing how adamant you were about him trying out something new, he makes up his mind and lets you do your thing because he's thinking that just maybe he'll enjoy it.

Like every instance, you curl your fingers to press against his spongey prostate and he jolts in surprise. Hearing a barely audible, low 'fuck' coming from his mouth, you curl your fingers again only to be met with a whiney moan.

"Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?"

"Good... good fuck, god, please keep going."

Jackpot.

It isn't long until he's jerking himself off, pushing himself back onto your fingers. He doesn't want the feeling to end, though he regains some of his dignity during his post-nut clarity.

"Maybe we can do that more often.. if you want to.."

**

Rudy is a tricky one for me. I'm not that much of a Rudy stan to have an opinion on him + pegging. But I've seen him characterised as a sweeter and more reserved lover. I feel he'd be more like Ghost. He'll take your fingers, maybe a vibrator, but he definitely isn't ready for your strap right off the bat.

He'll ask you to be gentle, face flushed and looking away as you slowly push a finger in him. Curling your fingers in just the right spot would make him let out an embarrassingly loud moan, looking away, his face flushed. Taking advantage of this, his eyes roll back as you abuse the hell out of his poor sweet spot. The feeling is new and strange but oh god, it feels so good. It's immediately too much for him, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he cums so quickly just from your fingers alone.

Switching over to a vibe would elicit the most humiliating noises from him. It's so cute because he'll beg and beg for you to go easy on him, his poor tip flushed and red as you overstimulate him. Torturing him as you press the vibrator against that perfect spot inside him, coaxing him to another shameful orgasm, precum running down the underside of his shaft as he thrusts his hips into the air, it drives him completely mental.

"P-Please! It's too m-much!"

"I'm not hearing red." and he gets so flustered, he's burying his face in his hands.

But red never leaves his mouth, this thighs clamping around your hand as he spills a second, third, maybe fourth load all over his tummy, but that's only if you haven't drained him for all he's got. He might just let you peg him next time.

**

Valeria is all for it. A girl has needs, sometimes a girl just needs to be filled with a strap, and she is A-okay with that. Val knows what she wants and she knows she's going to get it.

Power play is a massive thing with her. So even if you're the one gripping the back of her knees and slamming into her, he won't hesitate to remind you she's in charge.

She'll allow you to lay her down, slowly undress her, spread her legs. She'll let you fill her with your strap, make her moan under you as you hit all the right spots inside her. But you're not leaving her without the pure filth that escapes from her mouth between her heavy breaths.

"Always making me feel so good, sweet thing."

"No, you don't get to stop. I don't care if you're getting tired, this is what you wanted."

"Fucking into me like a bitch in heat."

"Pussy drunk slut for me."

"F-Fuck.. mmh, d-don't stop."

She tends to get a dirty mouth when she's close, almost begging you to rub her clit for her until she gives in an does it herself. You can't blame her, you just didn't respond fast enough!

But it's not enough for her until her legs wrap around your hips, forcing you as deep as possible as she squeezes around the strap and cums around it with a long moan.

After that, she gives you no time to react. You're getting pushed back onto the bed while she returns the favour until you're begging her to stop from sensitivity. But that's okay, because that's what she likes.

***************

After finishing this, I've realised I've put a lot more effort into this one than the 141 one.. whoopsies 😭

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[delreyshit]

Bodyguard

Summary: What if I told you that you are Price's daughter and left in König's "excellent" care?

Note: I think I have to grade this as +18 and the protagonist is of legal age(18 years old). But anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I apologize in case I have bad writing in the text, English is not my language. If you think I need to improve at something, let me know.

Being Captain Price's daughter wasn't that simple. Being a father at the young age of 19 marked him as overprotective, he always tried to keep me watched and protected, since according to him, his work made me take risks. It was stressful to have a different "bodyguard" from time to time. I often asked my father to change the people he left me in my care either because I was bored or disliked by them. Everything changed when one night, while we were having dinner, he said to me:

"From tomorrow you will be protected by König, my partner. You're going to be in good hands. He will pick you up after school and accompany you wherever you need to go." 

And that's how I met him. He was waiting for me leaning on his car, his mask and his large physical size definitely caught the attention of everyone at my school, including me, of course. From then on I tried to get his attention with subtle flirtations, failing in all my attempts.

Yes, maybe he could be older by a few years, but there was something about his voice and his enormous size, compared to mine, that undoubtedly made my skin crawl and made me fantasize every night about being able to feel him inside me. However, König treated me like a simple brat, sometimes with luck he would talk to me. 

I was supposed to read my literature book, but the scene in front of me was stirring things up a bit... inappropriate in my mind. I can't decipher whether it was the intense sun or the warm grass in my backyard, but I couldn't take my eyes off König's sweaty body, doing push-ups and various exercises a few feet away from me. The liveliness of my mind was interrupted by his hoarse voice.

"How are you doing with the book, girl?" "Well... I'm going to finish it." I mentioned a little nervously. 

I felt intimidated when I saw him walk towards me, panting with exhaustion. He leaned in front of me and with a firm attitude, he took the book from my hands and turned it over.

"Yes, you must have entertained yourself by reading backwards." he said, handing me the reading in the correct posture. I swallowed, embarrassed to be discovered. His intense eyes, almost hidden through the mask, examined me from top to bottom. 

With a subtle squeeze he held my jaw, guiding my face towards him.

"I don't like lying pups, little one." "Sorry me..." Immediately, I was interrupted by a push towards the blanket that covered the greenish grass. 

König cornered me on the ground, getting between my legs and pressing hard.

"Do you think it's easy to exercise when I'm around you, in this tiny dress, looking at me like an obsessed schoolgirl?"

"König, I-" "Don't speak, I don't want to hear your voice if it's not for you to moan for me." <<Shit.>>

For a man as intense and big as him, getting naked was not a problem, at all. It didn't take long for him to choose to push himself hard and set his own pace, his thick cock made me want to lose control. With one hand resting on my side of my head and the other keeping my leg on his shoulder, he charged deeply, making sounds and cries of despair that I never thought I could make. He grunted every time he touched my g-spot, knowing that I was getting closer and closer to overflowing.

"Shit, König." My feet twisted as I climaxed. "Run for me, girl. Do it, fuck..." 

As I collapsed beneath him, tightly closing my eyes, I felt his hands slide down my hips, propelling his own orgasm. 

A soft kiss on the neck brought me back to reality, my fingers moved to her head and when I felt her hair on my skin, as if I had seen a ghost my eyes widened.

His mask pulled to the side of us was the first thing I saw and when I finally appreciated the face of the man who had fucked and torn me apart like an animal, my heart melted with love. Neither said a single word, as if our minds were connected, we came together in a pleasant kiss.

"If my father finds out about this, he will kill us." "Correction, princess. He will lock you up for the rest of your life and he will torture me to death." he said laughing.

[brw]

From The Ashes, a ranking;

I'm bored and sick so thought I'd do my own little ranking of the From The Ashes books, because I've read basically all of them? I think I'm missing a few so I'll put those at the bottom without rankings because it would be unfair to judge them based on nothing.

Storm → great writing, great art, commentary on Krakoa and framing of it that I find very interesting, a series that absolutely deserves to go for as long as it needs to for Ayodele to tell his story.

Exceptional X-Men → honestly I could swap this with Storm and be just as happy. Absolutely great takes on Kitty and Emma that are definitely needed after how weird Krakoa was for both of them, and I LOVE the new kids she's introduced. Bronze especially is a little ray of sunshine, I love her.

X-Men → Pretty good! I've been enjoying reading it and it's clear MacKay has done his homework. Definitely a Cyclops book, which isn't my thing but his Scott is good enough that I don't complain about it, either. A strong flagship title for the current X-Men era, and I really like how he's set up the characters, albeit maybe has a bit of a bloated supporting cast.

Psylocke → I've been really enjoying this so far! Very nice art, I love all the work Wong does to flesh out her backstory and give her an unique antagonist, give her more of a supporting cast, I hope this run gets a full run because I think it's very deserving of it!

Mystique → I fucked with this. Don't want to spoil too much for anyone who hasn't read it but it's a great murder mystery vibe, I loved following the story and trying to guess what would happen in the next issue, and the twists were generally very well executed! Another very fun mini to look into, I had a good time reading it!

Sentinels → I wasn't expecting to like this so much but I really do! I enjoyed the narratives of disability in it, and I think it's an interesting mini that I hope will be built upon more later down the line.

Magik → Getting into the Meh category for me here, but if I was a big Magik fan I imagine it would be higher. As it is, it's alright; hasn't really grabbed me or inspired me to get into Magik more, which I think a solo should generally strive to do? But I like the way the magic plot and use differentiates it from Psylocke and Laura Kinney Wolverine, and the Darkchylde as almost an altar or something is very interesting to me.

Laura Kinney: Wolverine → Made completely redundant to be honest by the existence of Psylocke, a more interesting and frankly more necessary project than this book is. Other than being too similar, it's just solidly mid, but I wouldn't say it's bad, just kneecapped by being too similar to a better project coming out at the same time.

X-Factor → It's not particularly offensive, albeit I'm not a massive fan of any of the characters so if I was more invested I'd probably be more upset. The commentary isn't really well thought out, but it isn't offensive in the way NYX is. Solidly in the Meh category. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, but it hasn't harmed me personally.

Dazzler → Just kind of embarrassing and woefully mediocre, don't really have anything substantial to say because it wasn't a substantial comic. Mid!

Uncanny X-Men → Not Good. Granted, I'm aware if I was a Rogue and Gambit fan, I'd probably like it more; as it is, it feels like a book made for X-Men '97 fans scared of comics, and not comic fans. Which wouldn't necessarily be a problem, if those 4 kids weren't so annoying, and more specifically, if Simone didn't clearly like the weird racist horse girl who stopped being racist immediately after Gambit told her to stop it the most. The nicknames I find incredibly grating and annoying, and the pacing is just bizarre. Rogue looks anywhere between incompetent and insane, and having a female villain's tragic origin be that she didn't have Charles' baby or whatever is such a choice. I don't like this book, BUT I concede a lot of my gripes are personal related to my dislike of the kids, and I see why RogueGambit fans like it.

X-Force → I actually stopped reading this after the first arc and first issue of the second arc, because it was one of the worst, most uncomfortably ableist things I've ever had to read. Genuinely upset me on a very deep, fundamental level, and I do not understand how on earth having a bunch of heroes beat up an autistic person made it past however many editors it takes to put these things on page. Awful book, needs to be canned and forgotten forever, but at least Forge looks hot I guess.

NYX → There's a lot that you can say about this book, but I think more than anything else, giving Kamala Khan, a very genuine contender for the most beloved Muslim character in pop culture, an evil racist terrorist cousin who tries to blow up a community center is one of the single most egregious things to ever be written, and it's cancellation is a net gain. Horrible book.

DID NOT READ HALL OF SHAME

Phoenix, Wolverine, Rogue: The Savage Land, Cable: Love and Chrome

Maybe these books are good, but none of them inspired me to go pick them up, so I won't include them.

So, yeah. I wanted to share my thoughts now that I think we're 10 months or so in to From the Ashes. While I do think there are a lot of complaints that can be made regarding bloat, redundant titles, unnecessary books, etc, there's also some really good and interesting titles as part of this launch, which I hope continue to grow as this era continues!

[darthdaddi]

MDNI 18+

More under the cut.

Smutty smutty smut, stepbrother!James, fauxcest, reader is of age, don't like it then don't read it.

Been thinking ab STEPBROTHER!JAMES KELLY recently, like real bad on my mind. How he'd waltz up into your girly room, probably filled with squishmallows or some shit because you love to collect them, or maybe because you actually have some childhood trauma you need to heal.... But one minute you'd just be talkin', maybe about nothing too important like how college was going for you or what's up with your mad collection of stuffed animals. Then next thing you know, your pushed face down into your pretty pink sheets screaming, "Jamie, Jamie, Jamie!!" All whilst kicking your feet in protest to slow down because he's bottomed out in that pretty little pussy and you can't take that much more of it, going too fast. And James would say something along the lines of, "Y'feel too good ...", a little sleazy like, while one hand holds your wrists behind your back, and the other is spreading your ass cheek just so he could look at how well you were taking him. He'd let out a breathy groan in the process, especially seeing how you just sucked him right in. Obviously your body was betraying your words, because that damn little cunt seemed greedy for more. James would be a little mean, he can't help it. It's just too fun to see you all flustered and red over his degradation, "Do you like it that much? Hm? So in need of your big brothers cock, really? No wonder, you probably can't even get it from anyone else." He'd scoff while saying those words, watching how the squishmallows and stuffies toppled over at his weight on the bed, and how he was making the springs squeak due to his pace. James would kinda snicker to himself as he'd watch with an amused smile, all your precious stuffies being scattered about. "Do you think they're traumatized?" He'd inquire, and when you'd look over your shoulder at him confused, he'd palm your head like a basketball and turn it to the side. You'd blush and hide your face into the plush bedspread in embarrassment, that a 19 year old let her stepbrother fuck her in the bed that has held up innocence for the longest time. But you can't say no to your Jamie.

This has been in the drafts, collecting dust forever now 😭 I'm trying to stay a bit consistent and maybe clean some of this out. Still working on an inbox request and I might start writing a little Halloween fic, so stay tuned for that 🤭.

[zarrella-hisone-and-only]

heyyy, I hope you’ve had a nice day I was wondering if I could request ushijima, bokuto and sakusa with a fem tease sitting on their lap for a bumpy car ride and they get ‘excited’ down there 😏 it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with writing this! <33

Don't worry lovie I'll do my best to delivery!! Hopefully you enjoy it! Sorry if this took a decade, I ran into some writer blockages along the way heh! 😫

Bumpy Car Rides

Summary: How would the Haikyuu boys react to their dear lover sitting on their whilst on this bumpy ride?

Warnings: Characters are aged up, dirty talk, mentions of sex, teasing. Not Proof read!!! New writer!!

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It had been almost a decade since you and Ushijima had a fun day out. It was always him having to leave early in the mornings and coming home after you finished dinner. But this time you ahd somethign fun planned. It was autum and it had almost seemed like fate, a hay bale ride!

You smile hugging onto your muscular boyfriend's arm in pure joy. He sat down beside you far in the back of the cart. The guide moved and paid their attention to the younger children in the back, but you had other plans. Why bring your perfect boyfriend to this boring childish ride, maybe it was time to spicy it up a bit!

The hay bale ride was a hour and a half long. So you had loads of time to make this more fun for both you and your lover. You leaned closer to Ushijima's ear and whispered softly, practically breathing on him.

"Ushiii.. My seat is so rough, can I sit on your lap? Pleaaase.."

His eyes widened as he looks at you in utter confusion, were you really asking to sit on his lap?

"Wha-" You interrupted him by lifting your body up, just high enough to snuggle your bum comfortably on his thighs. His face was merely inches away from you, this cart was filled with children, adults, and old people.

You placed a small peck on the bridge of his nose, giving him a sweet and innocent smile.

"Y/n-" You cut him off again.

"Look babe, seems like it's about to get bumpy.." You wiggle in your seat atop of him, causing some friction underneath you. He raised his hand to cover his face, he lowly groans and sighs.

"Babe, I don't think this is the right time for-"

The cart bumps and you rub against him adjusting yourself again. It wasn't long till you felt something poking and prodding at your butt. A sly smirk plastered your face as you kept calm, continuing you effortless tortures. He places his hands on your waist tightening his grip.

If this wasn't bad enough for him, you managed to lean back and rub yourself against whilst letting out a small lewd noise for only him to hear.

Long story short, your little shenanigans put you in a bad position when you both arrived home.

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The bus was full and compacted. And well, there was only one free seat near the back. You grasped your boyfriends arm and pulled him through the crowds on people. Bokuto sat down and you wiggled yourself into his lap.

"Uh, b-baby owl!" He exclaimed a bit embarrassed at your small yet impactful movements.

You turned back to place a sweet kiss on his lips, licking his bottom lip before leaving the kiss. His face was flushed a bright red as he gripped the seat's edge in frustration.

Fortunately for you the bus ride has seemed to hit a few bumps along the way. This caused you body to fly and then hit back down on his little friend. Bokuto gritted his teeth holding back a groan every time you landed back down effortlessly perfectly square on his sweet spot.

You looked back at him and raised a brow. "What's wrong baby?" You tease asking so innocently. He had a mind to rip you to shreds when he got home, because his little friend decided to wake up and greet you.

"Baby owl, I'm not sure you want to play this game your trying..." He groans lowly in your ear. And well, I guess it turned you on a bit.

"What ever do you mean my love?"

"I'm not sure why your acting so innocent babe, you know damn well what your doing... And you'll regret it when we get home.."

You ignore his mindless and ballsy threats and notice that you have seemed to hit a mine bomb. "What a nice surprise.." You whispered feeling his member poking at you.

He huffed as the bus stopped and grabbed your hand taking you off the bus as fast as you could. And according to his promise, he sure did rip you apart the second the front door was closed.

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Sakusa wasn't one to go on public transports all the time, but this was the same cute trolley you would see everyday. After thousands of 'pleaase Omi' s and 'I'll literally die if I don't get to go on' , he finally gave in. You led him through the bundles of screaming children and messy toddlers to the back of the ride. There were two seats you you sat on the inside.

The trolley continued on its course and you were sure to watch the guide and make sure she wasn't looking at your boyfriend. You caught her catching another glance at him and you frown.

You lean over to Sakusa and whisper in his ear. "Omi, my seat is so dirty and close that nasty toddler in front of me.. Can I sit on your lap pretty please?" You whispered in the soft and sincere tone that he loved.

He shakes his head but you completely ignore it in jealousy. You slip yourself onto his comfortable lap and grab the hand that were near his side and wrap them around your waist. He stifles his breath and looks at you a shocked reaction. He was lucky that he had his mask on at all times because your boisterous action were sure to make his cheeks as red as tomatoes.

The trolley trudges onwards and hits a few bumps on the way. Between bumps you rub yourself gently across his groin, he lets out a breathy groan and bites his lip in frustration.

The guide glances at you wild actions whilst sitting on Sakusa's lap. She turns away now feeling silly that she was even thinking about making a move on him.

Meanwhile you kept doing your silly little antics causing your boyfriend unbearable pain. It wasn't long until you felt his anticipation peak. You leaned you back against his chiseled chest.

"Awh, are you excited for the next bump omi babe?" You whispered smiling in your words.

"Oh, you really want to play this dirty game again hm?" He quietly snaps back at you.

"Feisty huh?" You rub yourself against him again. He hisses and catches his breath, not able to say another word.

Long story short he had you in the shower bend over and screaming his name. He managed to wash away your dirty actions and reprimand you for acting like a jealous and territorial brat.

[nolonger100daysoftavvyfanart]

Act End Flash Liveblog

Spoilers ahead, probably

genuinely embarrassing how long i assumed this was a loading screen for. to be fair, it *does* look like an hourglass.

At this point i think the two options (note from the future: there is only one option, i have misunderstood) are seperate meat and candy thingies. Or maybe the Vriska/Anti-Vriska theory is right, and it represents that? Either way, i bet it'll spin when i click it.

...

I don't know why i was expecting to be able to liveblog that. That was all so fast... gonna watch it again

Was this guy born with knife and fork horns? That'd lock him into some kind of food industry from the start. Or maybe his company carved his horns for branding. It'd make sense for a Crockercorp owned company to do that, i guess.

wait, why did Tavvy leave by going up top the wing when there's a door at the bottom?

That was one hell of a youth roll.

Isn't that John's shirt?

nice dave indeed

Tavvy just killed that guy. For no reason. That's going on his report card, and Sollux has every right to kill him now.

Either that missile was made of bird bones and plaster of paris or Tavvy has some serious deflecting ability

I love how Sollux mourning his food is the most detailed part of the flash

I guess that wasn't heroic or just. The light kind of implies Jake's hope reality manipulation let him put his thumb on the scale, right?

It's been a good long while sicnce we've seen that cool godtier regeneration effect, too.

Ohh I originally thought she was twisting their necks, but growing their heads is even more gruesome

I like how both sides are kind of terrified of the gods

I was wondering if they were going to bring back the last jack. Do you think he asked for his mech to be dog shaped specifically

Jake did something again, but like last time it was a small bit of a big flash so i bet nobody will remember again.

That is the opposite of a hug

Where did she get that gun from

It's not even a weird troll bug gun that's a whole regular gun

did she have a Jake level?

she sure *shut* them up

did Jane merge those guys? Expeienced godtiers can do some *weird* stuff

Didn't some of the guys in the Crockergoon crowd have both of these weapons? But at least one of them was being used by the LOBsTER. The Plasma Sword industry is booming, and it's clearly not owned by Crockercorp. I bet it's Sila's parents selling them to both sides.

It's interesting that Rose just walked toward the bullet. That's kind of a bootstrap paradox, since she's only accepting her death because she predicted it... that's nothing new for homestuck though.

H4H4 WH4T 4 CL4SS1C JOHN PR4NK, PR3T3ND1NG TO B3 VR1SK4

Also, 10:08. Arc number again, kind of.

So helltier beats seer of light predictions... I wonder if that's anything to do with the inversion stuff the baloneyscholars were on about. Like, she's super voidy now? That'd explain why she looks like that.

Like grimdark, but more cheerful about it?

I wonder if it'll be something different on the bottom of the glass... like a Meat version, or maybe the anti-vriska?

seems the same

Ok yeah that was the same

Ohhh they swap when you click it, i thought it was selecting either side of the hourglass

that makes more sense actually

still worth rewatching a third time

wait a minute, if i watch it on youtube i can go take screenshots so my liveblog makes sense! Except the part where I said I shouldn't have been expecting to be able to liveblog it, because now I will have been able to.

Now i just need to read the news, check the bingo card and write some report cards.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Two Important Talks(LucyBronzeXKeiraWalshXOnaBatlleXTeenReader)

A/N: i Hope you enjoy Reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this.

Summary: you get the period and the s*x talk from all three of your moms.

The period talk...

You got home after school & football practice. Or course you were practicing with Barca. With only 12 years old you weren't playing with the Senior Team yet. No but you played for the Academy.

Appearently your moms witnessed a 16 year old Girl from the B Team getting her period for the First time and having No Idea what to do, which made them realize that maybe they should give you a talk about it so you wouldn't freak out like the Girl did.

So when you got home all three of them were there. Sitting on the Couch in the livingroom.

"Mama what are you doing here?" You asked confused. Cause it was your week at your moms and Mamis place. "Am i in trouble?" You wanted to know.

"hey Muffin, we wanted to talk to you about something. And no you are not in trouble!" Your Mama(Keira) said.

"did you do something you should be in trouble for?" Your Mom (Lucy) asked.

"No." You replied and shook your head.

"¡Por favor siéntate, cariño!" ( please sit down, sweetheart! ) Your Mami(Ona) told you and you put your backpack aside before sitting down.

"what's up? ¿está todo bien?" You wanted to know.

"there was a girl on the B Team today that got her period for the first time today and she had no idea what to do!" Your Mom started.

"¡Lo que nos hizo darnos cuenta de que tampoco hemos hablado de esto con vosotros!" ( which made us realize that we haven't talked to you about this either! ) Your Mami continued.

"but we think it's important that you know about what to do and that when the day comes you can always come to us!" Your Mama said.

"¡Ya he pensado en lo que usaré cuando llegue el momento!" ( I did think about what I would use when the time comes! ) You admitted.

"and what was your choice there?" Your Mama asked.

"probably pads at first! Sounds easier!" You explained.

"Tampons do have instructions in the package in case you ever want to use them!" Your Mom let you know.

"Y está bien si no funciona la primera vez. ¡Algunas cosas necesitan práctica!" ( and it's totally okay if it doesn't work the first time. some things need practice! ) Your Mami answered.

"that is good to know." You admitted, biting down on your bottom lip. This was a bit embarrassing for you. Even though you knew it was totally normal but it still felt a bit awkward. Thankfully you had an amazing relationship with all three of your moms. So it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be cause alot of your friends had told you about their Talks with their moms and it sounded like hell.

"oh and blood stains are nothing to be embarrassed about! They are part of periods sometimes." Your Mama answered.

Turned out you needed to use this information at the age of 16 for the First time when you got your period during England Camp.

The S*x talk...

You had your first kiss at the age of 14.it was a year after you came out as a lesbian. The kiss was quite clumsy and neither you or the girl knew what to do. But you were turning 15 soon and your Moms found out about the kiss, so they decided it was time for the s*x talk.

It was your weekend at your Mama's place, but your Mom & Mami also came over. Knocking on the door of your room as all three of them walked in after you told them that they could.

"hey Love Bug!" Your Mom answered.

"hi.are you here to give me the period talk again? Cause i as you know i am still waiting for it to come!" You stated. Looking at the three.

"this Is not about your period. but you are starting to Show interest in dating. So we think it's time to give you the s*x talk!" Your Mama told you.

You couldn't help but sigh and even blush a little.

"this Is not necessary! Really i got it covered! I don't feel the need to have a talk about something i am not even thinking about at my age!" You quickly answered.

"Cariño, no tienes que estar avergonzada!" ( sweetheart, you don't have to be embarrassed! ) Your Mami told you .

Easier said then done in your opinion.

"No es como si fuera a terminar embarazada." ( not like I would end up pregnant. ) You answered, biting down on your bottom lip.

"this Is not about pregnancy, Love Bug. We know you that's not an issue. But this Is also about protecting your heart, plus there is also protection you can use for queer s*x!" Your Mom explained. You really felt like hiding right now. This was not something your wanted to talk about. But you were out of luck there. Cause they ended up telling you about protection. But they also told you that you can always say no when you don't feel comfortable and that consent is the Key so is communication. Which they were totally right about.

Turned out all that information you needed at the age of 16, well you were almost 17 for your first time with Mattea(Your girlfriend and Meademas daughter).

[evilovesyou]

2025 TBR 📚

@haztobegood and @lululawrence tagged me to share the books I hope to read this year! 🩷 some of your picks have definitely made it to my list but i am limiting this to books I already own or have ordered

The last couple years I've really been slacking on my reading so I'm once again fighting to get to my goal of 12 books for the year. (I was two short in 2024 and I don't even want to talk about 2023...)

BOOKS THAT ARE CURRENTLY ON MY NIGHTSTAND

I'm technically listening to the audio book of Percy Jackson, but I will still count it on my night stand 😅 I Iike listening to Percy Jackson while walking. I found this amazing girl who read all of them on youtube and she's been walking with me for a couple years. I started reading LOTR in German in autmn and I do like it, but it feels like something I need a bit more brain power for than other things maybe. And I recently started reading The Book of Doors and I find it very intruiging so far, though I think you can tell it's the author's first publication at some points.

BOOKS THAT I WANT TO READ AGAIN

I want to read Fourth Wing and Iron Flame again before I get into the new Onyx Storm! I had to message a bookshop that specialises in English language books to try and get a full set of them that match at least in size LOL (the copies I read first stayed with my ex)

BOOKS THAT I HAVE HAD FOR AN EMBARRASSING AMOUNT OF TIME WITHOUT FINISHING/READING THEM

You can see the book marks in Mythos and Stone Blind and I actually cannot tell you why I haven’t finished either of them. Stephen Fry maybe takes more attention than I can dedicate at the end of a long day but I’ve been reading that book for almost 3 years and I adore it. Pageboy I got for my birthday a couple years ago and it has been staring at me ever since. Same with the bottom one. I wanted it so bad because it’s a collection of fairytales retold in a more inclusive/feminist way and it’s by Hungarian authors which hits so many different spots for me. But I have been so bad about reading in Hungarian it’s actually embarrassing.

BOOKS THAT I ALREADY OWN THAT I AM EXCITED TO READ

From the top down, I listened to A Room Of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf a while ago and I liked her writing so I thought I should maybe give another one a go. The Color Purple seems like a book I would enjoy and that smart people have read so I picked it up. 😅 @fadeintolight recommended I Who Have Never Known Men (I think??? Pls tell me I’m remembering this correctly lol) so that one also ended up in my basket during some bookshop escapade. And the last two I also got for my birthday this year and my friends said they’re really good so I will sink my teeth into another series this year probably.

The attentive reader may have noticed that this is way more than 12 books but alas I have always been ambitious (some might even say ambitchous).

Tagging @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed because you’ve been plowing through books like nobody’s business. @fadeintolight because I wanna know how that book club is going! @chaotic-bells because you’ve read over a million words of fic already so I’m sure you have some books you wanna dive into as well! @fallinglikethis because you’re always reading.

Also @whatagreatproblemtohave @asmicarus @ddeerr @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk @reminiscingintherain and @hazzabeeforlou because I wanna know what you’re all up to 🩷

[widowbitessting]

We never got to know how wanda’s dentist appointment went ☹️ could u maybe uhm, write about how it went? 🥹

The amount of searching, reading and re-reading I had to do for this😂 I hope you like nonnie, it dusted my writing fingers off for sure!

This is for the people who need just that extra bit of fluff today xox

Love Livvy

To say it put a damper on Wanda's perfect day, was an understatement.

Day. Officially. Ruined.

All because she has to go to the dentist.

There isn't anything she hates more than going to the dentist.

Except this very moment right now.

Leaving you back in the apartment with Carol, while she has no other choice than to go sit in a chair while a woman sticks her fingers in her mouth.

God, she doesn't like the dentist.

From it's too sterile smell, to the overly cheery receptionist (who blushes every time Natasha speaks to her), to the reclining chair that squeaks every time Wanda sits in it.

Yeah, the dentist sucks.

Wanda is pouting in the car, chin resting on her hand as she glares out of the passenger window.

Natasha sits next to her, one hand on the wheel while her other rests on Wanda's thigh.

Her thumb softly moves in small circles in a way that normally soothes any anxiety Wanda has.

But today it just irritates her.

As Natasha brings the car to a stop, Wanda grips her hand and puts it back on the gear stick.

"Still being grumpy, hmm?"

"Obviously."

Natasha can only let out a small laugh before glancing at her pouting partner.

"Really don't wanna go today, eh?"

"No I do not." Wanda grumbles, letting out a huff to ensure Natasha fully knew how annoyed she was.

"Not only did you carry me to the car, which was extremely embarrassing - "

"You don't hate it when I'm taking your ass to bed."

"...irrelevant. Anyway. You carried me to the car and you let Y/N watch!"

"And she loved every second, bunny." Natasha smiles.

"But you also took me away from our new girlfriend! We've been official for like 2 hours! It's not fair."

"Carry on, sweet. Get it all out." Natasha starts driving again.

"And not only do you take me away from her, mid kiss may I add, you drag me away to go to the dentist!"

"Sorry but you had an appointment, baby girl."

"We also have a new girlfriend!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, baby. Remember your place." Natasha warns.

Wanda quickly backs off.

"Sorry."

"Better. And we haven't left her. Carol is with her. They'll still be there when we get back home."

"But she's there now. And we're not."

"Wanda." Natasha says, glancing in her direction. "I know you're sad about having to leave Y/N. But I had to leave too. I even rang ahead and tried to postpone your appointment but it was too short of notice."

"Oh."

"Exactly. We won't even be an hour, my love. In and out, back under the blanket with Carol and Y/N before you know it."

"I swear to God, if we get back and they're doing stuff I'll -"

"Be my jealous little bunny?"

"...yes."

"How about we do our own stuff in the back of the car when we're done here. See if we can really make the receptionist blush."

"I just can't believe I didn't get a lollipop."

"You bit her finger, Wanda."

"And? She was hitting on you; while her fingers were in my mouth. What was I supposed to do?"

"Not bite your dentist." Natasha is smiling, biting her bottom lip as she tries, and fails, to suppress her laugh.

"I reacted perfectly, thank you." Wanda smiles. "Now she knows not to hit on what's mine."

"Is that so, bunny? Didn't like the fact that your daddy was being hit on?"

"Not at all."

The red head leans down to drag Wanda's lip into her mouth.

"I think I like it when you get jealous, darling." She says. "It's hot."

The two stumble into the wall.

"Shall we go and see our ladies upstairs?" Natasha asks. "Tell them how brave you were and how healthy your teeth are...and how you now have a warning next to your name."

"Not my fault, she deserved it."

The two kiss again.

And when they get back upstairs, they kiss you and Carol.

Over and over until you're a giggling mess under their bodies.

"Y'know," Wanda says, nestling into your neck. "The dentist isn't too bad."

"Yeah?" You ask.

"Yeah." Wanda replies, "'cos now I get to come home to you."

"Oh, I see how it is," Carol gasps. "Me and Natasha aren't enough for you!"

The blonde flops back dramatically.

"My heart! Oh, it's wounded."

"Oh can it, Danvers." Wanda smiles. "You knew what I meant."

"I can't - oh, I'm so upset..."

Wanda moves from you to jump on Carol, causing them both to fall off the couch and onto the floor.

Natasha pulls you closer as you enjoy the show, of Wanda tickling Carol relentlessly.

"I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."

"I do," You say. "I do.