#Sixth loss lasted

[kyouka-supremacy]

Mmmhh...

[muirneach]

we were all saying if stef and grisha lose in the same round then grigors rank is secure but the live rankings are very much displaying him at 11 and stef at 10. so why is that. alsoooo in the rankings hubi is likely gonna be taking andrey’s number six spot 👀

[suoulfillem]

on grief, david kessler wrote “in my sorrow, how dare you want me to feel hopeful.. about what? do you need me to hope to make you feel more comfortable?”

we try to make our grief more palatable for those around us, easier to deal with or look at. we are made to feel like we aren’t truly allowed to feel despair. we are given encouraging words to move on—“they’re in a better place”; “it’ll get easier”; “everything happens for a reason”—even if we aren’t ready to yet. we are made to feel as though we cannot sit in our grief and our sorrow for awhile. I say awhile because we know we cannot be sit with it forever, at some point we have to get up and move—life does go on despite, whether we want it to not. yet people have a habit of making us feel guilty for wanting to feel the pain, for wanting to hold its hand. for not being able to move and get up as quickly as we are expected to.

rarely, I think, is our grief truly ever recognised and witnessed, except by those who are going through the grieving process with us. even then, sometimes we hide it from them, too. always out of fear of making it worse. we are expected to carry on, like everything is normal. sometimes it helps to pretend, sometimes it pushes our healing back further.

kessler also wrote about how in some indigenous villages in australia, when someone dies everyone in the village moves a piece of furniture (or something else of that nature) into their garden. so the next morning, when the grieving family wakes up and looks outside, they can see that everything has changed since their loved one has died—not just for them, but for everyone. their loss has an impact, a visible one—you can see that everyone knows that nothing is the same anymore, everyone can feel the absence.

one of the hardest things about grief that i have experienced myself, is anger at those around me. never can I witness the pain I feel be shown in the world, or in the people that claim to sympathise with me. the anger I have felt watching everyone carrying on with their day, buying their groceries, going out for coffee—all the while i have to hold my pain in. all because I don’t want to cry in the middle of big tescos. don’t want to cancel on that dinner with my friend. don’t want to miss that 9am class. all I can think is: how dare they. how dare they sit there and think everything is fine when my loved one has just died. how are they not angry like me. how are they still breathing like it is so easy. I am in so much pain, and they can’t even see. they wouldn’t even look if they could.

we are made to feel like if our grief is to be witnessed it is to be a burden. it is uncomfortable. it is an inconvenience. we don’t owe anyone hope when our loved one dies. i don’t want you to point out a silver lining, or tell me they’re in a better place, or how one day it’ll get better. I don’t want to think to a time where it’ll be “better”. if it gets better, then what? I’ve moved on?

I will not wait for a time that may never come.

I want sit here in my grief, I want to carry it with me. the world continues on, and i have to do the same, but I will not allow you to take this pain from me. it is mine. I will sit with my grief, and you can watch me.

[asgardian--angels]

Planet's Fucked: What Can You Do To Help? (Long Post)

Since nobody is talking about the existential threat to the climate and the environment a second Trump term/Republican government control will cause, which to me supersedes literally every other issue, I wanted to just say my two cents, and some things you can do to help. I am a conservation biologist, whose field was hit substantially by the first Trump presidency. I study wild bees, birds, and plants.

In case anyone forgot what he did last time, he gagged scientists' ability to talk about climate change, he tried zeroing budgets for agencies like the NOAA, he attempted to gut protections in the Endangered Species Act (mainly by redefining 'take' in a way that would allow corporations to destroy habitat of imperiled species with no ramifications), he tried to do the same for the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (the law that offers official protection for native non-game birds), he sought to expand oil and coal extraction from federal protected lands, he shrunk the size of multiple national preserves, HE PULLED US OUT OF THE PARIS CLIMATE AGREEMENT, and more.

We are at a crucial tipping point in being able to slow the pace of climate change, where we decide what emissions scenario we will operate at, with existential consequences for both the environment and people. We are also in the middle of the Sixth Mass Extinction, with the rate of species extinctions far surpassing background rates due completely to human actions. What we do now will determine the fate of the environment for hundreds or thousands of years - from our ability to grow key food crops (goodbye corn belt! I hated you anyway but), to the pressure on coastal communities that will face the brunt of sea level rise and intensifying extreme weather events, to desertification, ocean acidification, wildfires, melting permafrost (yay, outbreaks of deadly frozen viruses!), and a breaking down of ecosystems and ecosystem services due to continued habitat loss and species declines, especially insect declines. The fact that the environment is clearly a low priority issue despite the very real existential threat to so many people, is beyond my ability to understand. I do partly blame the public education system for offering no mandatory environmental science curriculum or any at all in most places. What it means is that it will take the support of everyone who does care to make any amount of difference in this steeply uphill battle.

There are not enough environmental scientists to solve these issues, not if public support is not on our side and the majority of the general public is either uninformed or actively hostile towards climate science (or any conservation science).

So what can you, my fellow Americans, do to help mitigate and minimize the inevitable damage that lay ahead?

I'm not going to tell you to recycle more or take shorter showers. I'll be honest, that stuff is a drop in the bucket. What does matter on the individual level is restoring and protecting habitat, reducing threats to at-risk species, reducing pesticide use, improving agricultural practices, and pushing for policy changes. Restoring CONNECTIVITY to our landscape - corridors of contiguous habitat - will make all the difference for wildlife to be able to survive a changing climate and continued human population expansion.

**Caveat that I work in the northeast with pollinators and birds so I cannot provide specific organizations for some topics, including climate change focused NGOs. Scientists on tumblr who specialize in other fields, please add your own recommended resources. **

We need two things: FUNDING and MANPOWER.

You may surprised to find that an insane amount of conservation work is carried out by volunteers. We don't ever have the funds to pay most of the people who want to help. If you really really care, consider going into a conservation-related field as a career. It's rewarding, passionate work.

At the national level, please support:

The Nature Conservancy

Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation

Cornell Lab of Ornithology (including eBird)

National Audubon Society

Federal Duck Stamps (you don't need to be a hunter to buy one!)

These first four work to acquire and restore critical habitat, change environmental policy, and educate the public. There is almost certainly a Nature Conservancy-owned property within driving distance of you. Xerces plays a very large role in pollinator conservation, including sustainable agriculture, native bee monitoring programs, and the Bee City/Bee Campus USA programs. The Lab of O is one of the world's leaders in bird research and conservation. Audubon focuses on bird conservation. You can get annual memberships to these organizations and receive cool swag and/or a subscription to their publications which are well worth it. You can also volunteer your time; we need thousands of volunteers to do everything from conducting wildlife surveys, invasive species removal, providing outreach programming, managing habitat/clearing trails, planting trees, you name it. Federal Duck Stamps are the major revenue for wetland conservation; hunters need to buy them to hunt waterfowl but anyone can get them to collect!

THERE ARE DEFINITELY MORE, but these are a start.

Additionally, any federal or local organizations that seek to provide support and relief to those affected by hurricanes, sea level rise, any form of coastal climate change...

At the regional level:

These are a list of topics that affect major regions of the United States. Since I do not work in most of these areas I don't feel confident recommending specific organizations, but please seek resources relating to these as they are likely major conservation issues near you.

PRAIRIE CONSERVATION & PRAIRIE POTHOLE WETLANDS

DRYING OF THE COLORADO RIVER (good overview video linked)

PROTECTION OF ESTUARIES AND SALTMARSH, ESPECIALLY IN THE DELAWARE BAY AND LONG ISLAND (and mangroves further south, everglades etc; this includes restoring LIVING SHORELINES instead of concrete storm walls; also check out the likely-soon extinction of saltmarsh sparrows)

UNDAMMING MAJOR RIVERS (not just the Colorado; restoring salmon runs, restoring historic floodplains)

NATIVE POLLINATOR DECLINES (NOT honeybees. for fuck's sake. honeybees are non-native domesticated animals. don't you DARE get honeybee hives to 'save the bees')

WILDLIFE ALONG THE SOUTHERN BORDER (support the Mission Butterfly Center!)

INVASIVE PLANT AND ANIMAL SPECIES (this is everywhere but the specifics will differ regionally, dear lord please help Hawaii)

LOSS OF WETLANDS NATIONWIDE (some states have lost over 90% of their wetlands, I'm looking at you California, Ohio, Illinois)

INDUSTRIAL AGRICULTURE, esp in the CORN BELT and CALIFORNIA - this is an issue much bigger than each of us, but we can work incrementally to promote sustainable practices and create habitat in farmland-dominated areas. Support small, local farms, especially those that use soil regenerative practices, no-till agriculture, no pesticides/Integrated Pest Management/no neonicotinoids/at least non-persistent pesticides. We need more farmers enrolling in NRCS programs to put farmland in temporary or permanent wetland easements, or to rent the land for a 30-year solar farm cycle. We've lost over 99% of our prairies to corn and soybeans. Let's not make it 100%.

INDIGENOUS LAND-BACK EFFORTS/INDIGENOUS LAND MANAGEMENT/TEK (adding this because there have been increasing efforts not just for reparations but to also allow indigenous communities to steward and manage lands either fully independently or alongside western science, and it would have great benefits for both people and the land; I know others on here could speak much more on this. Please platform indigenous voices)

HARMFUL ALGAL BLOOMS (get your neighbors to stop dumping fertilizers on their lawn next to lakes, reduce agricultural runoff)

OCEAN PLASTIC (it's not straws, it's mostly commercial fishing line/trawling equipment and microplastics)

A lot of these are interconnected. And of course not a complete list.

At the state and local level:

You probably have the most power to make change at the local level!

Support or volunteer at your local nature centers, local/state land conservancy non-profits (find out who owns&manages the preserves you like to hike at!), state fish & game dept/non-game program, local Audubon chapters (they do a LOT). Participate in a Christmas Bird Count!

Join local garden clubs, which install and maintain town plantings - encourage them to use NATIVE plants. Join a community garden!

Get your college campus or city/town certified in the Bee Campus USA/Bee City USA programs from the Xerces Society

Check out your state's official plant nursery, forest society, natural heritage program, anything that you could become a member of, get plants from, or volunteer at.

Volunteer to be part of your town's conservation commission, which makes decisions about land management and funding

Attend classes or volunteer with your land grant university's cooperative extension (including master gardener programs)

Literally any volunteer effort aimed at improving the local environment, whether that's picking up litter, pulling invasive plants, installing a local garden, planting trees in a city park, ANYTHING. make a positive change in your own sphere. learn the local issues affecting your nearby ecosystems. I guarantee some lake or river nearby is polluted

MAKE HABITAT IN YOUR COMMUNITY. Biggest thing you can do. Use plants native to your area in your yard or garden. Ditch your lawn. Don't use pesticides (including mosquito spraying, tick spraying, Roundup, etc). Don't use fertilizers that will run off into drinking water. Leave the leaves in your yard. Get your school/college to plant native gardens. Plant native trees (most trees planted in yards are not native). Remove invasive plants in your yard.

On this last point, HERE ARE EASY ONLINE RESOURCES TO FIND NATIVE PLANTS and LEARN ABOUT NATIVE GARDENING:

Xerces Society Pollinator Conservation Resource Center

Pollinator Pathway

Audubon Native Plant Finder

Homegrown National Park (and Doug Tallamy's other books)

National Wildlife Federation Native Plant Finder (clunky but somewhat helpful)

Heather Holm (for prairie/midwest/northeast)

MonarchGard w/ Benjamin Vogt (for prairie/midwest)

Native Plant Trust (northeast & mid-atlantic)

Grow Native Massachusetts (northeast)

Habitat Gardening in Central New York (northeast)

There are many more - I'm not familiar with resources for western states. Print books are your biggest friend. Happy to provide a list of those.

Lastly, you can help scientists monitor species using citizen science. Contribute to iNaturalist, eBird, Bumblebee Watch, or any number of more geographically or taxonomically targeted programs (for instance, our state has a butterfly census carried out by citizen volunteers).

In short? Get curious, get educated, get involved. Notice your local nature, find out how it's threatened, and find out who's working to protect it that you can help with. The health of the planet, including our resilience to climate change, is determined by small local efforts to maintain and restore habitat. That is how we survive this. When government funding won't come, when we're beat back at every turn trying to get policy changed, it comes down to each individual person creating a safe refuge for nature.

Thanks for reading this far. Please feel free to add your own credible resources and organizations.

[theonottsbxtch]

BABY, BABY | MV1

an: max verstappen you are a four time world champion!!! here's a little fic to celebrate that. i started writing it while watching the race, then had to mourn the loss of the battle then went back to writing it and my back hurts because my posture is shit. anyway enjoy!!

wc: 3.3k

Max Verstappen lived for speed. The roar of the engine, the blur of the track, the thunderous applause of the crowd—this was his kingdom. At twenty-seven, he was already a legend, a three-time Formula One World Champion whose name was etched into the annals of the sport. And this season? It was shaping up to be another triumph. Four wins in the first five races, podium finishes for all of them, and whispers in the paddock that he was untouchable.

He had every reason to be confident. The car was a beast—precision-engineered, relentless in its power. His team was operating like clockwork, every pit stop a perfectly executed ballet. But above all, she was there. His fiancée. She didn’t need to speak to make her presence known; her calm, unwavering gaze from the paddock was like a talisman. He could feel her watching, believing in him, and it drove him forward.

After his most recent victory in Japan, he leaned against the garage wall, sweat still beading on his forehead. She approached him, her smile soft and private, meant just for him. The cameras flashed around them, capturing their moment, but he hardly noticed.

“You’re unstoppable,” she murmured, low enough that only he could hear.

“For you? Always,” he replied, brushing a gloved hand over her cheek before he was whisked away to interviews.

Everything was perfect. The season was his to lose, and he had no intention of letting that happen.

Six races later, the Max Verstappen that stood on the grid in Barcelona was not the same man who had claimed victory in Japan. His car was still strong, and his team still flawless. But the man behind the wheel was... distracted.

The cracks had started to show at the Monaco Grand Prix. A clumsy lock-up during qualifying left him sixth on the grid. In Hungary, he was slow off the line and struggled to match the pace of the leaders, finishing fifth.

The press was quick to pounce.

“What’s happening to Verstappen?” the headlines screamed.

Max shrugged it off, his trademark confidence still on display. “It’s the car,” he said with a wry smile after Hungary. “We’re making adjustments. It’ll come good.”

It was a convenient excuse, one his team begrudgingly accepted because of who he was. But the truth was far more complex—and far more personal.

She wasn’t here.

She hadn’t been at the last couple of races. At first, she’d said she wasn’t feeling well, and Max had brushed it off. But then the phone call came.

“I’m pregnant,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling. “I—I want to tell you in person, but I don’t think I can travel.”

In that moment, his world shifted. Joy, fear, and an overwhelming need to protect her collided in his chest. The image of her radiant on their wedding day-to-be now came with another—her cradling a newborn, their newborn. And with that came a thousand anxieties he’d never anticipated.

At every moment since, his thoughts weren’t on the track but on her. Was she eating enough? Was she getting rest? What if something went wrong, and he wasn’t there?

But no one knew. Not his team, not the press, not even his closest rivals. To them, Max Verstappen was still the king of the circuit. He could never let them see otherwise.

It was lap 32 of the Hungarian Grand Prix, and Max was battling for third with Charles. The two cars screamed through the corners, inches apart, but Max hesitated. He felt it—his grip loosened, his focus wavered. For the first time in his career, he wasn’t sure he could make the move stick.

Charles darted ahead, and Max watched as the gap widened. His engineer’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Max, you’re losing time in Sector 2. What’s going on?”

“Just the car,” he lied, jaw tight. “It’s sluggish through the corners.”

He crossed the finish line in fourth. As he stepped out of the car, he pulled off his helmet, running a hand through sweat-soaked hair. The cameras were on him, the journalists waiting. But all he could think about was her.

He needed to call. To hear her voice. To know she was okay.

The season was far from over, but the battle raging within Max was one he’d never prepared for. And as he watched his championship hopes start to slip through his fingers, he knew one thing for certain: no race, no trophy, no accolade mattered more than the life he was about to build off the track.

The Belgian Grand Prix was a race Max Verstappen wanted to forget. He’d spent the entire weekend battling the car—or so he told anyone who asked. But deep down, he knew the problem wasn’t mechanical. The fault lay within himself, his mind a chaotic swirl of worry and love that refused to quiet, no matter how fast he drove.

When he was finally allowed to go back to the hotel, the first thing he wanted to do was go home. Not the sprawling apartment in Monaco that everyone assumed was his sanctuary, but the smaller, quieter house tucked away in the English countryside. The place where she was.

It was just after midnight when his car pulled into the gravel driveway. The house was dark except for the soft glow of a single lamp in the living room window. She always left it on for him. He slipped inside quietly, leaving his suitcase in the car.

She was asleep, of course. Seven months pregnant and glowing with a beauty that stole his breath even in her most unguarded moments. He found her curled on her side in their bed, one hand resting protectively over her rounded belly. Max dropped his coat on the chair and toed off his shoes before slipping into the bed beside her.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, careful not to wake her, and then rested his head gently against her belly. The warmth of her skin, the faint, rhythmic thrum of her breathing, and the thought of the tiny life growing inside her—it was everything he needed to feel whole again.

“Hi, little one,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s me. I’m finally home.”

As if in response, there was a small kick against his cheek. Max grinned, a tear slipping down his face as he chuckled quietly.

“Already a fighter,” he murmured. “Just like your mum.”

Her hand came to rest in his hair, threading through the blonde strands. He startled slightly, realising she was awake, her sleepy smile illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming through the window.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

“Always,” he replied, turning his head to kiss her palm. “How are you feeling? How’s our little champion?”

“Both fine,” she reassured him. “We missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he said, shifting up to lie beside her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. His hand settled over hers on her belly, and they stayed like that for a long moment, the world outside forgotten.

The days that followed were a gift—a rare stretch of time without races, press obligations, or the relentless demands of the championship fight. They spent their mornings in the garden, her feet propped up on his lap while he read aloud from the parenting books she’d stacked on the table. Afternoons were lazy, filled with naps, quiet conversations, and the occasional moment when he leaned down to kiss her belly and whisper to their unborn child.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, she turned to him with a thoughtful look.

“You should tell them,” she said softly.

“Tell who what?” he asked, though he already knew.

“Your team. The press. Everyone.” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. They’ll understand.”

Max sighed, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. “I like it like this,” he said after a moment. “It’s ours. Just ours. I don’t want them to turn this into... headlines or speculation. I want to keep it safe.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “You’re not just keeping it safe, love. You’re keeping it locked away. And it’s hurting you.”

He kissed her forehead, a slow, lingering gesture that spoke more than words could. “It’s not hurting me. It’s the only thing keeping me sane. When I’m out there, and it’s all chaos and noise, this is what I hold onto. You. Our little one. It’s my anchor.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned into him, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you decide. But you don’t have to carry this alone.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “But for now, I want it to stay ours. Just a little longer.”

The break passed too quickly, as it always did, but for Max, it was enough. The air in Austin was electric. Max, back from the summer break and seemingly rejuvenated, had shown flashes of his old brilliance in the first half of the race. But a controversial move during a heated battle for second had earned him a twenty-second penalty. The disappointment was palpable.

In the press conference afterward, he faced a barrage of questions, his jaw tight as he fielded them with his usual composure. But his heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and the gnawing ache of being apart was beginning to wear on him.

The penalty stung less than the silence in his hotel room later that night. The upcoming triple-header—Austin, Mexico City, São Paulo—meant there’d be no chance to go home. Three weeks without her, without hearing the steady rhythm of her breathing as she slept beside him or feeling the flutter of their baby’s kicks beneath his hand. He stared at his phone for hours, tempted to call, but stopped himself. She needed rest. He could wait.

The race in São Paulo had just wrapped up. Max won, a result he should’ve been thrilled with, but all he could think about was getting back to England. The charter flight to London felt endless, the hours dragging as he stared out the window, replaying every voicemail she’d left him over the past week. Each one sounded more tired, more distant, and it made his chest tighten with unease.

When he finally arrived home, the house was eerily quiet. He dropped his bags in the hallway, calling out her name. No answer. He checked the bedroom, the nursery—they were empty. Panic began to rise as he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft but carried an edge of exhaustion.

“Where are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. “I’m home, and you’re not here.”

“I’m at my mum’s,” she replied.

“Why?” His voice dropped, laced with confusion. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched too long. And then, she said it.

“I had the baby.”

The words hit him like a jolt. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. “You what?” he whispered, as though saying it louder would make it less real.

“I had the baby,” she repeated, her tone gentle, but firm. “Two weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a mix of hurt and disbelief.

“You had a job to do, Max,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Distract me?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. “You’re my family. How could you think I wouldn’t drop everything to be there?”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “But I also know you. You’ve been carrying so much this season, and I didn’t want to add to it. You were halfway across the world, love. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he would’ve found a way. But deep down, he understood. She was protecting him in her own way, just as he always tried to protect her.

“Is he... okay?” he asked finally, his voice softening.

“He’s perfect,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Healthy and beautiful. I wanted to surprise you when you got home, but we needed a bit of extra help, so I came here.”

“I’m coming now,” he said immediately. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The drive to her mother’s house felt like an eternity. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he barely remembered turning off the car before he was at the front door. Her mother greeted him with a warm smile and a quiet, “She’s upstairs.”

He took the steps two at a time, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached the bedroom, he paused in the doorway.

She was sitting on the bed, her hair tied back loosely, her face glowing with a tired kind of happiness. And in her arms, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, was their son.

Max stepped inside slowly, his breath catching as he took in the sight. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice almost trembling.

“Hi,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Come meet him.”

He crossed the room, sitting beside her on the bed. She shifted the baby gently, placing him into Max’s waiting arms. For a moment, he could only stare.

Tiny fingers peeked out from the blanket, curling slightly as the baby let out a soft sigh. His nose, his chin—so small, so perfect.

“What’s his name?” Max asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We agreed on Emilian,” she said, her eyes shining. “Emilian Lucian Verstappen.”

He looked up at her, his throat tight with emotion. “You gave him my name?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You’re his dad. And he’s going to know how much you love him, even when you’re halfway across the world.”

Max pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “Both of you. More than anything.”

As Emilian stirred slightly in his arms, Max smiled. He’d missed the moment of his son’s birth, something he’d carry with him always. But here, holding his son for the first time, he knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

For two precious weeks, Max stayed home. It was just him, her, and Emilian. Those days blurred into a haze of quiet moments—feeding, changing, and rocking his son to sleep. He wasn’t just a racing legend at home; he was a father, learning the delicate art of swaddling and singing lullabies off-key at three in the morning.

His fiancée was radiant, even in her moments of exhaustion. Max found himself watching her more than ever, in awe of her strength. At night, they talked in whispers, Emilian nestled between them in a bassinet. For once, the championship felt like a distant dream.

But as the days passed, reality crept back in. The Las Vegas Grand Prix was the next race and the stakes couldn’t be higher. His rival, Lando Norris, was trailing him by just a decent amount of points, but if Max bottled it, it wouldn’t go well for his title. A strong finish could secure Max his fourth championship, but it would be a fight to the very last lap.

The night before his flight to Vegas, Max sat beside her on the couch, Emilian cradled in his arms. He had spent the entire day rehearsing his pitch, trying to strike the perfect balance of persuasion and sensitivity.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual, “Vegas is going to be a big deal. Probably the biggest race of my career.”

She glanced up from her tea, raising an eyebrow. “I thought every race was the biggest of your career.”

“This is different,” he said, grinning. “If I beat Lando by a certain amount of points, I get the title. My fourth title.”

Her smile softened. “I know. And you will. You always find a way.”

He hesitated, bouncing Emilian gently as the baby dozed. “Come with me,” he said suddenly.

Her eyes widened. “Max—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he cut in quickly, “and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But the doctors said you’re fit to fly, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Please,” he said, his voice earnest. “I need you there. Both of you. It’s an important race. The biggest one maybe. And I want to share it with my family.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. He could see the worry in her eyes, the motherly instinct to keep their baby safe and away from the chaos of the paddock. But then he reached for her hand.

“Win or lose, none of it matters without you. You and Emilian are everything to me. And if I do win... I want you there to celebrate. I want the world to see what really matters.”

After a long pause, she sighed, her resolve softening. “Fine. But only if you promise to keep us far away from the press circus until it’s over.”

He grinned, leaning over to kiss her. “Deal.”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a spectacle like no other. The bright lights, the roaring crowd, and the tension in the paddock made it a night to remember. Max felt his nerves hum as he stepped into the garage, but knowing she and Emilian were somewhere safe in the hospitality suite calmed him.

The race was brutal. Max fought tooth and nail, battling it out with Charles and Lewis in a chaotic, tire-shredding 50 laps. In the end, he crossed the line in fifth place.

For a moment, he thought it wasn’t enough. But then Christian’s voice crackled over the radio.

“Max Verstappen, you are a four-time world champion!”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he punched the air, his voice shaking with emotion as he shouted his thanks into the radio. The garage erupted in cheers, but Max’s mind was already on her and Emilian.

As the celebrations began, he climbed out of the car, waving to the crowd before pulling off his helmet. He turned toward the pit lane and froze.

There she was, standing at the edge of the barriers, Emilian in her arms. They were both wearing ear defenders, her smile wide and proud. Emilian’s tiny shirt caught his eye, and his heart melted:

My daddy is a 4-time world champion.

He laughed, running over to them as the cameras swarmed. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate, pulling her into a deep kiss. The crowd roared, and the cameras clicked furiously, but he didn’t care.

He looked down at his son, who blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. Carefully, Max took him into his arms, holding him close.

“Hey, little man,” he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “Your daddy did it.”

Emilian gurgled in response, and Max’s grin widened.

For the first time, the world saw Max Verstappen not just as a champion, but as a father. The images of him holding his son, his fiancée beside him, spread like wildfire. The press clamoured for details, but Max ignored them, too lost in the moment to care.

“This is your victory too,” he said to her, his voice quiet. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her smile radiant. “We’re so proud of you.”

As the champagne sprayed and the cheers echoed around them, Max knew this was the pinnacle of his career—not the trophy, not the title, but the family he held in his arms.

the end.

[aamircoeur]

just distressed (not a damsel) - ultraman, ken sato.

getting familiar with your robot-like saviour after his nth time of saving your life.

PART 2.

cw: brief mention of blood. sfw, female reader. UNEDITED

"hello again, little ma'am." the huge character looked down on you, his glowing eyes acting as a spotlight as he held you on his palms. a purple-colored, lizard-like kaiju had destroyed the top of the apartment building that you were staying at, and luckily, ultraman was there to save you.

only for, like, the sixth time this month.

"not causing trouble again, are you?" ultraman teased, and you just rolled your eyes, making the being laugh.

the first time was when you were on your first (and after that incident, also the last) date with a guy you met at a bar. he took you to sumida river for some sight-seeing, and a kaiju appeared from underneath the waters, targeting those who were at the bridge. out of fright, the people screamed and scattered like ants, including your date who left you to flee for his own safety.

upset, you took a moment to process the happenings around you while you stared at the back of the guy as he ran. without noticing, the kaiju creeped from behind you in an attempt to catch you off-guard and eat you for its lunch (you assumed). fortunately, ultraman was there in the nick of time, blasting the kaiju with his powers that came from the moon or something, you thought. you really didn't understand how he or his powers worked, and you really couldn't bother learning either.

being the only person to stay on the bridge, ultraman approached you after sending the kaiju back to where it emerged from. "uhm, hi," he said, looking down on you as he was wiping debris off of his shoulder. "you okay?" he tilted his head.

"yes, i am. thank you!" you shouted at him, hands cupped to both sides of your cheeks.

he nodded. "okay, get home safe, little ma'am." he said before walking away. you looked at him as he made his way through the water. you thought about the weird nickname and shrugged, thinking that everyone must be little to him when he's that big.

upon arriving home at your apartment, you saw a series of messages of apologies and excuses from the guy you went on a date with. you scoffed and blocked him without responding.

the second time that you were saved by ultraman was when you unfortunately got in the crossfire between him and a kaiju that looked like a dinosaur. you were underneath a separated car door after trying to run to safety, your left leg and forehead dripping with blood, and you were too light-headed from the blood loss to help yourself out of your current position.

after the shaking of the ground has stopped, assuming that the battle has ended, you opened your eyes only to reveal that everything was blurry. an elderly woman was crouched in front of you, slightly tapping your face before wiping the blood off of your forehead. "oh, you poor thing," she said. a tear made its way across your cheek, finally feeling the pain after the numbness had faded away. "you'll be okay," the woman said before standing up and walking into the middle of the street, and it was the last thing you saw before passing out.

the elderly woman had called for ultraman, waving her arms out as high as she could. seeing her from a few streets over, ultraman rushed to her, careful with his steps to avoid stepping on a car. "hello! is something the matter?" ultraman greeted.

"here, here!" the woman called and led her to where you were. shocked, ultraman knelt down and lifted the car door, placing it down on the sidewalk before scooping you up into his palms. "poor girl has been bleeding since i saw her." she added, her hands cupped together, worriedness heard in her voice. "if you rush, we might save her!" she exclaimed.

ultraman nodded and stood up on his feet, slowly moving covering you with his other hand. "thank you, madame. please, go home to where you'll be safe." he said before flying off.

hearing a constant beep woke you up from the hospital bed that you stayed in. you squinted your eyes as you adjusted to the light on the ceiling, you then saw your right leg with a cast. groaning, you took a deep breath before looking around more. there was a desk beside you with a folded piece of paper.

you reached for it and unfolded it, and there was a note in blue ink that said, "the bills have been covered. please, get well soon."

the third time of being saved by ultraman was when a kaiju attack has been reported near you once again and ultraman took you to safety via his palm because you couldn't walk properly with your cast.

by the fourth time, you simply greeted the character with a simple hello despite having yet another kaiju attack near you. ultraman greeted you back, laughing after realizing that he was getting used to seeing you when there's a kaiju attack and saying, "hello, little ma'am."

for the fifth time, you were in a restaurant for dinner that had unfortunately caught on fire because of a flame-spitting kaiju. although you had the opportunity to leave early the moment smoke was seen to guarantee your safety, you helped every person you could to leave the restaurant instead before helping the staff control the growing fire.

the fire department in the city was handling the fire in a hospital which led to their lateness in handling the one in the restaurant you were staying at. fortunately, the five million meters tall (your exaggeration) superhero was there, helping the humans put out the fire and successfully doing so.

as the staff were being interviewed by news reporters, you went on your way to a different restaurant instead to continue your dinner. a few streets down from where the restaurant was, you walked downtown to where the road was quiet and empty, and you just casually bumped into ultraman.

by casually, you meant that he almost stepped on you after not looking before taking a sharp turn. "woah there!" the huge being exclaimed, his robotic voice echoing throughout the evening. you had your hands in the pockets of your jacket as you looked up at him.

"wait, i know you." he said before going down on his knees and lowering his body to take a better look at you. "little ma'am!" he exclaimed, his bright eyes widening.

you squinted your eyes at the brightness and smiled sheepishly. "hey, ultraman."

ultraman sat up and held out his palm for you, which you accepted. you stepped on his finger before making your way towards his palm, and he then lifted you up before holding you in front of him as he looked at you.

"what brings you here?" you asked, crossing your legs on his palm, making yourself comfortable.

he let out a small chuckle at how used you were to stay on his palms. "uh, fire, in the uptown," he explained. your eyes widened as your eyebrows lifted. "woah, were you there?" he asked, worried.

you nodded. "yeah, i was supposed to have dinner but then the ceiling started burning. i tried to help some elderly people to head outside." you explained.

ultraman smiled down at you, happiness obvious in his robotic facial expression. "you've helped greatly." he said.

you laughed and swatted your hands in front of him. "nah, the cook and waitresses helped control the fire before you got there." you said.

"no way," ultraman shook his head. "don't undermine what you've done, because you've done great. i never would've dumped the bucket of water if i had known that there were people inside, and it would have been hard for me to help them out with my big size." he said. "really, thank you for the help."

you just smiled at him and scoffed playfully. "just another day for a super human," you joked.

you and him shared a laugh and continued your talk. "so, what're you gonna do now?" he asked you, now leaning on the office building behind him as he got more comfortable throughout the conversation.

"ah, i wanted to continue my dinner, but there's this big bug that just wouldn't stop pestering me," you joked, referring to him which made him drop his jaw playfully as if he was offended.

the two of you laughed. "what about you?" you asked.

ultraman tilted his head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. "oh, man, i am beat. i might nap for weeks after tonight, so i'm leaving the city-saving to the new superhero called "little lady". ever heard of her?" ultraman said.

"nah, never. she sounds cool though, probably pretty with big muscles, i assume?" you rode along with his joke, making him laugh.

"oh, yeah, definitely. really pretty thing," he said casually.

your laughter halted upon hearing what he said, making your cheeks and ears flush at the compliment. when he finally realized the words that came out of his mouth, ultraman fixed his posture and stuttered an excuse. you laughed and patted his palm. "don't worry, hypnotizing people to make 'em think i'm good-looking is part of my one hundred and three superpowers."

ultraman let out a hearty laugh at this, making your stomach warm by hearing it. "yeah? better get started to knowing each one."

you smiled at him and took a deep breath. your conversation had finally stopped, the two of you thinking about your own things. after a few more small talk, ultraman had decided to call it a night to let his body rest after the fight with the kaiju. you agreed and he let you down from his palm before standing up to his height that surpassed the building's.

"also, if you want dinner, tonkatsu tonki is the place to go." he said before waving off and flying off.

and the sixth time was now. "hey." you greeted, a tired expression visible on your face.

"always in the centre of the tornado, huh, little ma'am?" he said as he had you in his palms once more, walking you towards the evacuation center.

"lucky me," you sarcastically said.

"lucky you, my personal damsel in distress." he echoed you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes.

taglist: @ttulipwritezz @c-losur3 @saeyari @luvly-writer

[misseverandever]

I CAN READ THIS, AND I WILL! LET’S GOOOOOOO!

omg was not on my 2024 bingo that I’m actually gonna read Melinda’s set for Anya

FRIST CARD: FOUR OF CUPS (the past)

that’s symbolizes Anya past implicating on her present, the cart indicates a need to experiences something new that brings joy and fills this empty space, something we see in our little girl eyes and i’m happy to see she’s doing good cuz in the past she certainly was a person that spends their days with their head down.

SECOND CARD: DEATH (the present)

The upright Death tarot card symbolizes transformation and the beginning of something new. It represents closing a chapter, leaving past experiences behind, we can think about Anya maturing and liberating from the trauma! Well in relationship (anya question) suggests the relationship may be stuck in a stagnant or unproductive dynamic, what we definitely can see, she tell his mother that he bullies her

THIRD CARD: THREE OF SWORDS (hidden influences)

The unseen problem huh? There’s a lot of them, well Donovan, Twilight, Operation Stixs… etc etc….

Whenever this card appears in a reading, it indicates conflict, disappointment, and misunderstanding (Well that’s definitely is the case), maybe Damian is definitely gonna be sad about why her approach to him, we know this is real cuz Damian already say before about people approaching him just because he is a Desmond and we know Anya have the same goal, but no worries is gonna be difficult but it can be resolved (they need to talk about this) !!!!

FORTH CARD: THE STAR (ANYA)

The Star in the upright position symbolizes hope, inspiration, and peace for the future. BUT is in the reversed position, so Anya reflects the feelings of hopelessness, confusion, and doubt as her navigate life's challenges and question circumstances. We see Melinda like that, and surprisingly Anya feel empty for her!

(So cute Anya being the star)

FIFTY CARD: TEN OF PENTACLES (the influence of others)

What kinds of external influences are dominating the situation? Well all of them! This card is important because it influences how others close to the Querent feel about the situation. AND GUESS ITS ALL RIGHT! This is a very positive card, and its positivity indicates that the path of challenges and difficulties has already been traveled, and now is the time to reap what is deserved. INNN THE RELATION WAAAAY (remember Anyas question not just because you know… i’m a shipper) is gonna be an harmony between them, whit a lot of happiness, cuties!

SIXTH CARD: ACE OF CUPS (what Anya have to do)

We see he is receiving, It’s often represents sadness, loss, and frustration, signaling difficulty in connecting. We know Damian is a difficult person, Anya have to deal with his feelings, is an important thing to do cuz if she don’t, they will not be together.

SEVENTH CARD: THREE OF WANDS (final results)

This last card is important because it takes into account all the six previous cards in its response. Here, we have an indicator of what the final resolution to the problem will be.

In this spread, the energy here is one of movement, so Anya cannot (and will not) stay still and she cannot try to handle everything alone.

The card indicates complicity, true love, and a strong connection. Sooo don't worry, as the frendship is real, and they will overcome it together.

SHE KNOWS!

SORRY MY ENGLISH IS KINDA BAD SO CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ANY ERRORS IN THE TEXT? I was so exited to reed this, if you need tarot read dm me 🫶

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

hii, could you write a fluffy smut where Reader is a virgin (no experience)? Basically Agatha takes Reader’s virginity, but in slow steps to make her comfortable and showing Reader everything. Reader being untouched since forever -Reader is really HORNY- 

Step by Step !NSFW!

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: porn with the tiniest bit of plot??, loss of virginity (R), oral (R receiving), fingering (R and A receiving), soft agatha, explicit consent, hand holding kink if you squint, not beta read we die like the coven

A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry I've been gone, my canon event decided to happen in November instead of October, but I'm getting back into the groove! I was so excited to write this because I've been needing soft smut lately so I hope you enjoy!!

It was agony. No relationship of yours had ever progressed slower–not that you minded. But it was a bit painful.

With Agatha being over 300 years old, she had learned a thing or two about patience. Going through the Road had brought you closer together, and you were now in your sixth month of this relationship. You had held hands, kissed frequently, even moved in with each other, but you hadn’t had sex.

No other relationship you were in had lasted this long. Agatha was so much more different than your last partners: she had more wit than what was good for her, she made you laugh every day, and more importantly, she put your needs before anyone else’s. She consulted you in important decisions and let you be a part of her life. She cared about you deeply–more than anyone had before, and the thought of that made you tear up.

How thankful you were that nothing else had worked out.

After receiving a peck on the lips while making dinner for the both of you, you smiled, “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight?”

“Okay,” Agatha responded, turning her head quickly and raising her eyebrows, “but no more Fifty Shades. I don’t care if it was just so we could make fun of it, that shit was weird.”

You giggled, “I wasn’t gonna suggest Fifty Shades. I’ll let you pick.”

The domesticity after moving in with Agatha was palpable–and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You developed a nightly routine with her: you would make dinner while she cleaned out Señor Scratchy’s cage. The both of you would sit down for dinner while Señor Scratchy ate on the floor beside the table, you’d talk about your days and the new shows you two were watching together, Agatha would usually tell a story or two from her “glory days” as she’d call it, and then the two of you would clean up the kitchen together and retire to the living room with a glass of wine each, finally going to bed around eleven. 

But tonight, every minute of your routine pained you. All throughout dinner you wanted to shout at Agatha to take you right there. You were so painfully turned on, you were sure she could tell.

Doing the dishes, you had to hold yourself back from pulling her into a passionate kiss and having her fuck you right there on the counter.

But now, it was nearly nine, and the movie Agatha had picked out wasn’t even halfway over. You were so close to taking matters into your own hands–that was, until Agatha’s touch on your thigh felt anything but innocent.

As her fingers trace a line up and down your thigh, you find it hard to control your breathing. Her fingers continue, getting closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.

“Do you like that?” she asks, muttering in your ear.

You take a deep breath, “Yes.”

She hums, chuckling softly and looking back at the television, “Keep watching the movie…”

You obey, despite how hard it is, and continue watching the movie as her fingers don’t leave their position and you become more and more needy.

The movie is over by eleven, and soon, you’re saying goodnight to Señor Scratchy and turning off the lights.

As soon as you get in the bedroom, Agatha’s shirt is off and she’s left in her bra. The sight almost makes you drool and she smirks, “You like what you see?”

“I–ye–Uhh–”

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” she drawls, and steps closer to you. 

Her hand is on your chest and she walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you collapse onto your back. As she crawls toward you, you sit up and scoot yourself back until you’re in the center of the bed and Agatha is in front of you..

Your hands go around Agatha immediately when she kisses you, pulling her closer. A chill runs through you at the feeling of her chest against you and it amplifies when her hands run under your shirt.

She pulls away from your lips just enough to mutter, “Is it okay if I take this off?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and your shirt is discarded in an instant with your lips back on hers.

Her hands move to your back and her fingers lightly touch the band of your bra. “What about this?”

You nod, “Yes.”

After removing her own bra, the two of you in nothing but your underwear, and the heat between you increases immensely. Your hands run over every inch of each other’s bodies as you kiss passionately.

Agatha pulls away from your lips and looks you deeply in the eyes, holding your face with her hands. You had never seen such an expression on her. Even when sad, she’d keep a hard exterior. But this is new. This is soft and loving. It’s filled with warmth but tinged with concern.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to continue?” she asks softly.

You nod your head, “Yes, Agatha.” She leans in to kiss you again, but you stop her.  “Wait. I’ve…never done this. Is it alright–can we go slowly?”

Anxiety courses through you. You’re waiting to hear the familiar words that your past relationships would throw at you.

“Oh…Well, I only wanna be with someone who’s experienced…Sorry.”

“I don’t date virgins, sorry.”

Instead, these words never come.

Agatha smiles softly, “Of course. We can go at whatever pace you want. We’ll go one step at a time.”

“I’d like that,” you mutter, almost having to hold back tears. “Thank you.”

Smiling again, Agatha kisses you and pushes you slowly down onto your back. “I’m going to touch you now,” she says. “Is that okay?”

You look into her eyes and nod.

“I need to hear you say it.” Your cheeks grow warm at the sound of the sternness in her voice. “Yes,” you respond. “That’s okay.”

“Good girl,” she smiles, and kisses you once again. 

You can feel your pulse quicken and breathing pick up as her fingers skim over skin–down your chest, brushing over your nipples and over your abdomen, down to your hips. 

She sits back and takes a good look at you as she continues to hold your thighs. “You look so good like this…”

You become flustered, hiding your face in your forearms before Agatha leans down and pulls them away. “Oh, don’t hide yourself from me, darling,” she smiles. “You have nothing to be worried about.” She sets your arms down gently, “Take a few breaths for me…that’s it. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head no quickly, “No! Please, don’t stop.”

“Okay,” she whispers, kissing you deeply and then making her way down your body. “It’s okay if you don’t finish quickly–or at all. It’s just about feeling good. Okay?”

You nod and she kisses your hips and licks up your thighs, and delights in the way goosebumps form over your skin. Her fingers pull aside the gusset of your underwear and run up your slit, circling your clit.

When you moan, Agatha hums, placing a kiss on your thigh. “That’s it,” she coos. “Let it out. Tell me how good it feels.”

When her sentence ends, it’s only seconds before you feel her tongue on you now. You let out a long moan as she continues, drawing short, languid lines with tongue.

“More,” you pant. “More, please, Agatha.”

She looks up at you, “I’m going to use my fingers next, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, and gasp at the feeling of her fingers tracing your entrance as her tongue continues. “Oh, my god, Agatha…”

When her two fingers slide in and curl, your back arches and you grab her free hand. You relish in the way her fingers interlock with yours and it makes the pleasure all the more enjoyable as you start grinding your hips into her tongue. 

Your hand clasps over your mouth as a whimper turns into a particularly loud moan, “God, Agatha–oh, fuck!’

“Do you want me to go faster?” she asks, not removing her fingers. You don’t respond until she curls her fingers again, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you moan. “Yes! Please, go faster!” As she quickens her pace, your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes! Don’t stop!” Your back arches and you gasp when Agatha sucks hard, moaning loudly. “I’m–oh, god–please, Agatha! I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!”

Agatha hums against you and tightens her hold on your hand, “Keep going, baby. You can do it…cum for me.”

She seems to enjoy the view a whole lot more as you shake and moan beneath her. “Good girl,” she says as she crawls back up to hover over you. With her fingers still slowly working inside you, her hand lets go of yours and takes your chin. “That was a lot for your first time,” she says quietly, and kisses you. “But you did so well for me.”

You smile into the second kiss and hum as you taste yourself, taking pleasure in how Agatha’s fingers still haven’t moved from their original position inside you. “I love you,” you whisper against her lips before taking your own hand and sliding it down Agatha’s body. You find the edge of her underwear and move your hand beneath them. “Is this okay?”

Her lips brush yours and she huffs as your fingers gather her arousal and circle her clit, “Yes, just like that. Keep going, baby.”

When her lips clash with yours again, her own fingers inside you start again. You’re both breathing heavily into each other's mouths and your foreheads press into each other as Agatha begins to rock her hips on your fingers. Your second orgasm didn’t take long to hit and Agatha’s first didn’t take long either–neither did your third or her second.

The entire situation was so erotic, you could barely handle it. You had read books, watched movies and TV, even watched porn a few times. But nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to Agatha’s delicate touch and passionate kisses–the sounds she makes when she finishes and the praise she gives you as come undone beneath her. You had only ever dreamed of someone like her.

Agatha lays on her back with her arm around your shoulders, the comforter and bedsheets askew in a wild mess around you. You’re both breathing heavily and you place little pecks on her hand and wrist.

“Are you–are you sure that was your first time?” Agatha huffs tiredly.

You giggle and bury your face in her neck. As you kiss the exposed skin softly, you say, “That impressed, huh?”

“Quite,” she answers.

Moments of silence and kissing go by before you lift your head and look Agatha in the eyes. “So, do you wanna go again?”

Agatha laughs and kisses you, “You are completely insatiable!”

[loveemagicpeace]

✨Astological Things🎄

Moon is your safe place. It is something that you emotionally need and where you feel most seen, safe and fulfilled emotionally. The moon represents what you need in your partner and what would work between you in the long run. When you have many moon connections with someone, it means that you are closer to that person and that you feel more emotionally fulfilled and seen. You feel that you can share a home with this person. To invite someone home is usually your moon.

Venus shows strong attraction and love. However, it is not necessary that the relationship will work in the long run because the moon shows more attraction and giving love, but not something that would last for a very long time. Which means a lot of venus connections don't always mean a long term relationship. However, Venus in aspect with Saturn is very good for the long term.

Countries ruled by pisces are: Spain, Portugal, Normandy. Places ruled by fish are oceans, ponds, water areas, wet and humid areas, spiritual centers.

The countries ruled by the zodiac sign of Aquarius are Abyssinia, Arabia, Lithuania, Poland, Russia and Sweden. Places ruled by Aquarius are hilly and uneven, places where small rivers flow, roofs of houses, overhangs. Aquarius also rules highways, airports, and things related to electricity and electronics.

The countries ruled by the Capricorn zodiac sign are Albania, Bulgaria, Old Macedonia, Thrace, India, Afghanistan, Mexico and the Orkney Islands.

The countries ruled by the Sagittarius zodiac sign are: Madagascar, Spain, Australia and parts of France.

The house position of Uranus always shows where instability or destructive qualities may appear at any time. Uranus in the corner house (first, fourth, seventh, tenth) in the birth chart means that aimlessness will radiate from the person's life. This also means that the person will move often. Uranus in the tracking house (second, fifth, eighth and eleventh) tends to produce a greater number of unexpected ups and downs in a person's life circumstances. Uranus falling in a house (third, sixth, ninth and twelfth) indicates that education and religious beliefs will fluctuate, causing problems in this person's life - usually alienation. It also means that work is done in spurts and irregularly.

Neptune in angular houses produces romantic personalities. This indicates frequent changes of address, estrangement from relatives and strong possibilities for travel. If badly afflicted, strange accidents may occur on these journeys. Neptune in tracked houses brings tendencies towards strange, obscure illnesses that are difficult to diagnose. It indicates restraint and imprisonment. Neptune in descending houses is the planet of substitutions, which means false teeth, glasses, wigs, wooden legs and the like.

Neptune tends to feel that the ordinary things in life are unimportant, too vulgar, and therefore the person is looking for something more stimulating, more mysterious and sensational. Neptune sometimes seeks a temporary escape and takes refuge in the dream world. Some people feel that Neptune is neutral. Other astrologers say that he is the bringer of evil.

Saturn in the first house or in the first quadrant (first, second or third house) in the birth chart tends to throw burdens on the native early in life. This is often due to the father's accidents. Saturn in the second or eighth house signifies the power of saving money. In the fourth house, the individual tends to build a property of great value. If Saturn rules the 12th house and is angular, it means that personal matters will be revealed in public to the great embarrassment of that person.

Saturn is a symbol of karma: trials that will come into our lives slowly and surely. Because Saturn causes or symbolizes our delays and losses, it becomes the symbol of fate, which sets the normal man firm limits to his efforts. Saturn is the greater bringer of evil and the bringer of tasks. On the other hand, he is also the best friend because you can learn the most from him.

Jupiter also rules sports, hunting, athletics. It also rules the love of animals, religion, marriage, philosophy. Based on the position of the house and the sign and the aspects of Jupiter, to be able to find out how a person thinks in a philological sense. Regardless of the aspect, it is considered very fortunate that Jupiter is in an angular house (first, fourth, seventh or tenth) because it is said to protect the person from major misfortunes.

Mercury at birth is the key to healing powers. If Mercury is positive in sign, house and aspect, it brings healing powers. It also symbolically indicates whether a person is able to heal mentally or is able to solve current life problems. A study of natal Mercury shows how the individual will approach solving problems. Mercury in a fire or air sign tends to produce healing powers because it allows the person's mind to focus strongly on the site of illness or problems.

Wherever you find Venus, there you find an audience of admirers. Whichever house Venus is in, that's where you find the greatest love for people, places or things.

Venus conjunct Uranus often symbolizes several fleeting relationships followed by separation. Venus is most important for chart comparisons because it shows what to expect and what type of obstacles will show up.

Cancer individuals are sometimes difficult to live with because of their ever-changing mental sides. The waxing and waning of the state follows the lunar cycle. When the Moon is waxing, they are in a good mood for two weeks and when it is waning, they are depressed for two weeks. They have cyclical ups and downs.

Virgos tend to be withdrawn and require a lot of attention and time for themselves. They are loners. Only when they end one relationship do they start another. They are quite gentle. They are sophisticated warriors. They are rebellious. Virgos usually have a very beautiful body that is soft and clean. Many times they don't like to put on too much makeup and prefer a natural look.

The nature of a Libra person is harmonious. It has a sense of relationships in an individual's perception, which gives balance to his worldview and/or artistic perception. Many painters and musicians are born under this sign because it gives them musical talent and a love for beauty and colors. A Libra woman is resourceful and seeks perfection. The man is honorable, outwardly balanced and kind, but not passionate.

Pisces: Be romantic. For water signs, romance is important: flowers, food, confetti, etc. If you do something for them, make it very personal: they are very personal. This applies to gifts as well as other actions and relationships. Let it be according to nil's taste. Don't do anything by standard procedures, make it personal. Make them care. They don't need a lover, but love in the form of tender care. That's the only thing that matters to them. Encourage them to express themselves. Inside, they are nervous: This concern has to go to plan. The pain they take on from others must be expressed outwardly. What I have noticed many times with fish, especially in the sun, is that they want to be seen and want someone who cared and felt things like they do. Pisceans can feel younger than they are and keep their good looks well into old age.

Leo people enjoy the good life, and eating well is part of this. They like rich food and fine wine. Fortunately young Leos have strong stomachs and good circulation, and keep in shape because they are active. However, time does catch up with them, and Leos must learn to eat correctly and cut down on fatty foods.

Moon in Leo -you have strong emotions and can be reached through your heart rather than your head. You are a quick and accurate learner when your feelings are involved. But if a subject does not arouse your affections, you have no interest in exploring it further. The sensory impressions you receive from the world around you come to you on an emotional level. In order to make you change your mind, someone first has to change how you feel.

-Rebekah🩵🧚🏼‍♀️☁️

[y3sterdaysproblem]

in my head - m.s.

part two of avery’s playlist series

pairing: reader x matt sturniolo

cw: alcohol, smut (unprotected sex, f!receiving oral, fingering), explicit language

wc: 6k

in my head, i see you all over me

in my head, you fulfill my fantasy

It was like a sixth sense, really, the way you could feel when anybody was staring at you when you weren’t looking. It was something you’d always had a feeling for since you were young, like any time a pair of eyes landed on you, you could feel it burning into your skin.

It was also something you had learned to ignore when you were around your friends, always feeling a constant stare when your head was turned, blue eyes unable to tear themselves away from your frame. You were used to it at this point, the way he looked over at you any chance he got. You were also used to him refusing to admit that he was looking at you, no matter how many times you caught him staring, he’d always deny it, say he was just spaced out or looking past you. You never believed him.

Today was no different, even in the crowded house with music blaring and your mind fuzzy from the alcohol you’d consumed, you could still feel Matt staring at you from where he was leaned against the wall, a fruity seltzer held in his hand as he peered your way. The two of you have been friends for years, but lately it felt like you’ve drifted apart due to how weird he’s gotten around you, and now when you came over, you mostly just talked to his brothers, Nick and Chris, since Matt had always excused himself after you caught him staring.

Matt was always a little bit odd, but he’d gotten more so over the last few months, and you’d gotten sick of trying to reel him back in, finally just deciding to let him pull away from the friendship if that’s what he really wanted.

Alcohol had always made you a little bit bolder, though, and today was no exception, so when you caught Matt’s eye across the room and he actually held your gaze, you couldn’t help yourself from marching over until you were right in front of him, your eyes determined as you approached him. He kept his eyes locked on you, an almost amused smirk playing on his lips at your attempt to be serious.

“Matt,” you start sternly, crossing your arms once you’re in front of him. He’s thoroughly enjoying the way you try to act bigger than you are, though he can tell by the glazed over look in your eyes that it wasn’t raw confidence that had you running up on him, but more of a liquid courage influence. He didn’t mind, in fact, he thought it was amusing. He stays silent, only raising his eyebrows as he peers at you over his can, waiting for you to continue. “We need to talk.”

Matt finishes his drink and sets it down on a nearby table before crossing his arms to match your stance, chest puffing out as his eyes narrowed. “About what?” He inquires, head tilting like a dog.

You weren’t deterred by his attempts to be dominating, though. “About your fucking staring problem.”

He raises an eyebrow like he’s at a complete loss. “What staring problem?”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief. “You think I don’t see you staring at me all the time? I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of my head!”

Matt is fully smirking at you now, his expression teasing. “I never stare at you. I look at you sometimes, like now when you’re talking, but I’m never staring at you.”

The distinct presence of alcohol makes your eyes feel heavy and your brain moves slower, only able to process his words a few seconds after he said them, but you refused to be gaslit into thinking that you were wrong, that you didn’t see what you know you saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say loudly, reaching up to point a finger in his face. “You can’t take advantage of me just because I’m drunk.”

The next words that he said are what really throw you off guard, to the point where you almost blamed the alcohol for it, and if you were even one drink further into your night you would’ve, but your comprehension levels were still sharp enough to catch the weight of his words as he leans in close to your ear.

“If I wanted to take advantage of you while you were drunk, lying isn’t the way I’d do it.”

It felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, like an unspoken boundary had been crossed and you had no idea how to react to it. Except your mouth moved faster than your brain, and you spoke before you could even think to stop yourself.

“What?!” You shriek, narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?!”

Matt rolls his eyes at your volume before he swiftly forces your body in the other direction with his hands and swings an arm over your shoulder. “It means we need to get some water in you.”

You’re offended at his suggestion, scoffing loudly as he led you into the kitchen, keeping a strong grip on you. “I am not that drunk, Matt. Could pass a sobriety test with ease.”

“You’re drunk enough to get confrontational, that’s how I know you need to slow down,” Matt retorts, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the counter and handing it to you.

You want to refuse, to shake your head and push his hand away, but when you turn your head to look up at him, the room spins a little bit, and you know it’s probably for the better that you have some water. Once you do grab it from his hands, you drank almost half of the bottle in one go before handing it back to Matt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, happy now?” You sass.

Matt sets the bottle down on the counter, his other arm still swung over your shoulders. “Sure, now go dance with Nick or something,” he comments, nodding his head in his brother’s direction.

Your confrontational behavior hasn’t dissipated, though, in fact it only feels spurred on by the way Matt is staring down at you, like it’s funny the way you tried to talk to him, like he thinks your attempts at calling him out are adorable. It’s not adorable, you’re serious, and the fact that he doesn’t think you are has you heating up all over again.

In a quick motion, you grab his hand from your shoulder and start walking away, your grip on him tight as you drag him through the crowds of people and into his room. With all the strength you can muster, you pull him in through the doorway and push him in front of you, slamming the door after you’re both in the room.

“I am done dealing with you staring at me all the time and acting like you’re not!” You snap loudly at him, arms crossing over your chest once again. “I may be drunk and confrontational, but you’re drunk, too, so let’s just get this conversation over with so we can go back to being like we were before.”

Matt rolls his eyes at you, huffing like a child. “I’m not as drunk as you,” is all he says.

“Oh, please, like you weren’t just leaning up against the wall out there, or using your arm around me to keep your balance.” You point a finger at him accusatorially. “You’re leaning on your desk right now!”

“Yeah, because my ankle hurts,” Matt shrugged it off, but the way his eyes closed as he spoke made it all the more obvious what the truth was.

By the time his eyes reopen, you’ve marched over to him, your bodies only a couple feet apart now. “Enough. Stop fucking staring all the time or tell me why you do it.” You demand.

He’s getting frustrated again, and you can see it in the way he sucks in a deep breath, like he’s trying to stop himself from getting angry, or maybe he’s trying to stop himself from telling you the truth, trying to fight against the alcohol swimming through his bloodstream. He’s close to cracking, and all you need to do is push a little harder.

“Did I do something to make you mad? You barely talk to me anymore, and every time you do it’s like someone’s twisting your arm behind your back to do it.” Your voice is a bit quieter now, back to a normal speaking volume with a hint of sadness seeping in. “I used to be the closest to you and now it’s a chore to even get you to talk to me.”

Matt groans and leans his head back on his shoulders for a moment before picking it back up and meeting your gaze again. “You didn’t make me mad,” he replies.

“Then what?!” You push, hands flopping to your sides in annoyance. “Why are you so weird now?! You never talk to me, you’re always fucking looking at me and pretending you’re not, you’re always trying to avoid being in the same room as me alone and I am so fucking sick of-“

“What do you want me to say?!” Matt interrupts loudly, pushing himself off the desk and one step closer to you. Your eyes widen in shock as the distance starts to close between you, not expecting him to be so loud. Though the next words out of his mouth had your mind reeling and wondering if maybe you both were a little too intoxicated to be having this conversation. But maybe it was perfect.

“Do you want me to say that every fucking time I look at you, all I can think about is how much better you’d look underneath me? On top of me?” He starts lowly, taking another step closer. “Do you want me to say that I get carried away looking at you because I’m fantasizing about what I want to do to you? That I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you feel good and hear your pretty voice moaning my name?”

Your heart feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you listen to him, pounding away and making your hands shaky, adrenaline running through you at his admission. It was the last thing you expected him to say, a confession of desire, the words ripping all of the air from your lungs.

You’re brought back when the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall backwards on it, hands catching you and resting behind you. The switch in angle has you staring upwards at Matt, the man that was your best friend, lashes fluttering as he gazed down at you, eyes darkening at the sight of you.

“Matt…” you whisper, shaking your head, unsure of what to say.

“You feel fucking stupid pushing so hard now, don’t you?” Matt sneers, leaning over so he’s hovering above you, faces inches apart. “Should’ve just left it the fuck alone.”

You swallow thickly, trying to ignore your nerves and the way the hair on your arms was standing straight up, goosebumps forming from how close he was to you.

“I don’t feel stupid,” you say quietly, pausing for a moment as you stare into his eyes, taking in his expression. His jaw is clenched tight, like he’s angry, but you know it’s his way of trying to hide the way he really feels; scared of how you feel. His eyes are searching yours for any sign of feeling the same, like he’s desperate for any sense of reciprocation. His chest is heaving as he leans over you, trying to breathe through the way his heart was racing, willing it to slow down in vain. You take a deep breath yourself, readying yourself for the shift.

“Just wish you told me sooner.”

Your hand comes up to grab onto his shirt to pull him in, closing the distance between you both, lips crashing together. He loses his balance when you pull him down, hands stopping himself on either side of you when he pushes you down flat on the bed, kissing you back like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

His lips are molded to yours perfectly, only parting to let his tongue slip into your mouth and meet your own, tasting the drink he finished right as you walked up to him. His left arm shifted so he was resting on his elbow next to your head, right hand coming up to cup the back of your head, fingers splayed out in your hair as he used his grip to keep you close to him.

Even though you initiated the kiss, you’re still taken aback at how desperate his movements are, taking a moment to collect yourself and kiss him back just as enthusiastically, right hand keeping its grip in his shirt while your other one comes up to mirror his, tangling in his hair.

“Matt,” you gasp in between kisses, whining softly when his lips trail over your cheek and down your neck, leaving soft but hungry kisses across your skin.

“Wanted you for so long,” he groans, teeth nipping softly before he continues his descent, pushing your shirt up until it’s bunched under your arms, moving his lips between the valley of your breasts. “You look so fucking good tonight, was like torture watching you walk around like I didn’t want to rip your clothes off.”

The giggle you let out is breathless, a mix of laughter and a whine, head tilted down as you watch him as he kisses down your stomach, hands moving to slide down your waist, gripping your hips when he reaches them. “You can take my clothes off if you want to,” you say nervously. His attention is immediately drawn back to your face, movements pausing at your words. “Yeah?” He rasps, voice low and quiet.

You nod, pushing yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he slides down your body and onto his knees between your legs, hands rubbing over your thighs. Your bottom half was adorned in a black mini skirt that already started riding up from the way he settled between your legs, your thong peeking out from underneath it, clinging to your skin from the way you were already getting soaked.

“This skirt looks so fucking good on you,” Matt praises, slipping off the end of the bed until he was on his knees, pulling you closer towards the edge until his face was only a few inches above your core. “Wondering why I’m looking at you when this shit barely covers your ass.”

“I wore it for you,” you admit shyly, watching as his hands slid up and down your skin, fingers gripping into your flesh every few seconds, like he couldn’t believe he was finally in this position, lips dragging up the skin of your inner thighs slowly.

“Oh, yeah?” He mumbles, almost absentmindedly.

“Mhm,” you reply, watching as his face gets closer and closer to where you want him. “Was hoping maybe if I dressed hot enough you’d finally crack, get the balls to shoot your shot.”

Matt drags his nose up your inner thighs, kissing occasionally until his face is right pressed into your panties, the thin fabric being the only barrier separating your bodies from what you both craved so badly. His tongue slips past his lips to flatten on your folds through your underwear, a small groan leaving his lips. “Was gonna shoot my shot anyway, just thought I’d have time for one more drink before you got all bitchy on me.”

A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of his tongue on you, wanting nothing more than to rip the flimsy thong off and fling it across the room. “Calling me a bitch with your head between my legs is a little ridiculous, Matt,” you tease breathlessly, keeping your eyes locked on him. His hands move to push your skirt upwards before his fingers tuck themselves into the waistband of your panties, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “Sorry, next time I call you a bitch I’ll make sure I’m not about to eat you out.”

You scoff at his sarcastic response and roll your eyes, expecting nothing less than him making some snarky comment. His nose dips down and buries itself in the fabric again, his eyes fluttering shut as he sucked in a deep breath, moaning on the exhale. “Holy fuck.” He groans out before he tucks his fingers into the front of your underwear and ripped them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him, drooling in anticipation.

“Are you…” you stare down at him incredulously, eyes wide. “Are you smelling me?”

Matt looks back up at you with an exasperated expression, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?” He replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you have any idea how good pussy smells? How good it tastes? God, I could get off on that alone.”

You shake your head in disbelief at him, to which he releases a small laugh, shooting you a wink before dipping his head back down and pressing his lips between your folds, planting a small kiss on your clit as his hands push your thighs apart, spreading you wide open to be used by him. “Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. His hands wrap around your thighs and his fingers dig into the skin on the inside of your legs, kneading them softly as his tongue starts to work between your folds, quiet moans leaving him as the taste of you flooded his senses.

The sounds you made weren’t as quiet, the volume of your whines starting to fill the room, grateful for the music blaring through the rest of the house to drown you out. Your head fell back on your shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on his tongue on you and the way his hands never stopped moving, whether it was his thumbs stroking over your skin or his palms rubbing up and down.

“Fuck, Matt…” you whimper, dropping your elbows out from underneath you so your back was flat on the bed, body already reacting to the way his mouth was moving on you, thighs starting to shake on either side of him.

He was eating you out in a way you’ve never felt before, his actions hungry and fueled by lust, lips and tongue working in tandem as he practically made out with your drooling core, the squelching of his mouth meeting your heat filing your ears. “Matt,” you warn, reaching down to grab at his hair, pushing him off of you.

He pulls away reluctantly, staring down at you with glazed over eyes, his mouth and chin glistening from the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. “What?” He questions, furrowing his eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, breathing heavily. “Just close ‘n I don’t wanna finish yet.”

Matt’s confused at your words, staring down at you like he doesn’t quite understand, head tilting slightly as his lips parts to speak. “That’s kind of the whole point of what I’m doing,” he states.

“But… I wanna have sex,” you reply like it’s obvious.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” Matt lets go of your thighs and runs a hand through his hair, growing more puzzled. “Do you not want me to eat you out?”

Your cheeks are darkening in embarrassment the more this conversation drags on, your hands coming up to cover your face. “I do! You’re really good at it! I just don’t want to cum before you actually… fuck me.”

“Why?” Matt snorts out a laugh, crawling onto the bed and hooking his hands under your thighs again, dragging you up the bed until your head was almost at the headboard, his own body moving to hover over yours. “I’ll just make you cum again. And again…” he leans down until his lips are touching your ear, one hand moving to rub over your clit gently, his two middle fingers rubbing through your slit. “And again, til you can’t even think straight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he manhandles you, the way he pushed your body up the bed like it was nothing creating a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. “Really?” You questioned quietly, not used to men even really caring about getting you off even once.

“Mhm,” Matt hums into your ear, lips trailing down over your neck. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod your head quickly, nervously. “Just never came more than once before.”

Matt snorts against your collarbone, dipping his two fingers inside of you, your pussy putting up no resistance to him, sucking him in greedily. “Probably because you sleep with a bunch of fucking losers.” He comments, following up his words by sucking a mark into the fleshy mound on your chest barely covered by your bra anymore.

Your back arches off the mattress when his fingers curl inside you, a loud whimper leaving your lips as your hands grip the sheets on either side of you. “Oh my god,” you moan out, ignoring the comment he made. You’ll have to remember to scold him later.

“How ‘bout you just lay there and keep making those pretty noises, yeah?” Matt smirks, sliding down the bed again until his mouth is back on your soaked heat, groaning against your clit when the taste hits his tongue again.

Obsessed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he’s feeling, how his mind is absolutely reeling from the way he’s got you coming apart underneath him. The way you taste, the way you sound, it’s all making his mind fuzzy, the buzz from the alcohol fading into the distance as he becomes more pussy drunk than anything in the moment. He’s trying to keep himself from losing control and fucking you into oblivion, grounding himself by listening to the sweet sounds you made.

“So good, Matt, right there,” you cry out, chest heaving as he brings you back to the brink of your orgasm, knuckles turning white against his black sheets. “Fuck, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, one of your hands coming down to thread in his hair, this time holding him against you instead of pulling him off.

“Mhmm,” he moans into your skin, tongue lapping up your juices fervently, fingers keeping pace inside of you.

The way his voice rumbled against your clit was all you needed to send you over the edge, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned loudly, thighs trembling around Matt’s head.

He coaxed you through it, fingers and tongue unrelenting until you were lax and whimpering against the bed, legs twitching from overstimulation with every movement. Matt pulled his lips away, placing one more small kiss on your clit before looking up at you, smiling at how spent you looked, hair sticking to your forehead and your teeth buried in your hand from trying to keep quiet. “You covered up your pretty mouth,” he fake pouts, crawling back up the bed so his face is above yours. “Now I gotta make you cum again.”

You stare up at him breathlessly, watching as his face comes back into view, his expression dark as he stares at you. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Didn’t wanna be too loud.”

“No such thing,” Matt smiles, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips softly. You melt into the kiss, instantly returning it and tasting yourself on his mouth, something you’d hated in the past but felt immensely turned on by in this situation. He only kisses you for a few moments before he pulls away and gazes down at you again. “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod excitedly, agreeing instantly. He climbs off the bed and pulls his shirt over his head before walking to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, throwing it next to you on the bed. Your eyes watch the small foil pack as it lands next to you, feeling your heart rate pick up at the realization that this was actually happening. You were about to let your best friend have his way with you in his room during a fucking party, not caring who would hear, and especially not caring about what this would do to your relationship in the moment. Those were consequences you’ll face later, but right now all you could think about was having Matt buried deep inside you.

“Matt?” You sit up slowly and look up from the condom, letting your eyes trail over him, landing on his hands that were working on the button on his jeans, then slowly dragging his zipper down. He hums in response, urging you to continue. You clear your throat nervously, reaching out to pick up the condom. “I haven’t been on birth control for years just for you to not fuck me raw.”

Matt’s lips part as he sucks in a small breath, watching as you tossed the condom back onto the bedside table before smiling up at him. “You serious?” He asks, pushing his jeans down until they fall on their own, stepping out of them before kneeling back over you, his hand coming up to hold onto the back of your neck. You nod again, just as enthusiastic as the first. “Yeah,” you respond softly. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Matt groans and grabs your shirt to finally pull it fully off, throwing it across the room before he helps you out of your bra as well. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbles, shoving you back down onto the bed. A small giggle leaves your lips as he throws you down, hair fanning out over the pillow. The only thing you were left in was the black mini skirt that Matt was obsessed with, the material shoved up and bunched around your hips. It was completely out of the way of what was important, and Matt had no intentions of removing it from you.

Your folds and inner thighs were completely soaked when you spread your legs open for Matt to settle between, the wet skin glimmering in the dim lights of his room, a sight that Matt had to force himself to tear his eyes from so he wouldn’t finish too quickly. “You have no idea how pretty your pussy is, do you?” He mumbled, pushing his briefs just low enough for his dick to spring out, so hard it almost hurt when the cool air hit it. Your ears burned hot at his words, shaking your head gently. “No, I don’t. Wanna tell me how pretty it is?” You reach down to grab the backs of your knees, pulling your legs up and apart to expose yourself to him even more.

“Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry but I’m already about to bust in my pants, can I just…” he clears his throat and reopens his eyes, looking down at the glorious sight below him; you staring up at him as you pull your legs wide open for him, pussy on display and glistening just for him, patiently waiting to pull him into your walls. His hand comes down to wrap around his aching cock and you watch as he starts to jerk himself off, small moans and whimpers leaving his lips, jaw slack from the pleasure.

It takes him less than a minute to stroke himself to his climax, hips stuttering as he coaxed out his load all over your stomach and added to the mess adorning your lower half, your own jaw dropping as you watch him cum all over you. “That was fucking hot,” you praise, a sinister smile forming on your lips.

He laughs, taking a few deep breaths before he situates his hips against yours, resting his tip against your entrance. “Thanks. I was not going to last at all and I’ve always wondered what you’d look like covered in my cum, so.. two birds.” He joked.

You’re about to laugh with him when he shoves himself inside you, bottoming out in one thrust. The movement rips a gasp from your lips, face contorting in a mix of pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch. “Oh!” You squeak out, locking eyes with Matt as he drags his own gaze up your body to stare down into your eyes. “My fucking god,” he groaned, slowly dragging his cock out of you before pushing back in, pulling a soft whine out of your lips. “Holding that pussy wide open for me, hm?”

You bite your lip harshly as your head drops back onto the pillow, eyes rolling back as Matt starts up a quick rhythm, his cock deliciously dragging through your walls. The angle of your legs being pushed up had him hitting every sweet spot inside of you, your voice growing hoarse from how much you were whining and moaning, hands starting to lose your grip on your legs. “C’mon, baby, don’t let up now, show me how pretty you look taking my cock so well.”

You’re trying your best when you readjust your grip on the backs of your knees, but the mixture of sweat and how weak you felt made the task difficult, your hands sliding around and unable to get a good grip. “Can’t, Matt,” you whimper, opening your eyes again to look back up at him, silently begging for help. He notices your struggle and pushes your hands away with his own, spreading his fingers out on the backs of your thighs to push them against you, the new angle of his cock inside you making you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, please don’t stop, need you right there.” You babble on, staring up at Matt as his eyes stay trained on where your bodies meet.

“Touch yourself, princess,” Matt demands, forcing his gaze up to meet yours, admiring the way your eyes were glazed over and half covered by heavy eyelids. “If you can’t hold your legs up you gotta touch yourself for me, baby.”

You’re taken aback, not used to such demands. Normally the guys you slept with didn’t even care about if you finished or not, and now here Matt was making sure you came at least twice. It was a bit confusing at first, but you eventually processed his words, eyebrows furrowing. “But, Matt, I-,”

He cuts you off with a sharp dig into your thighs with his fingers, silencing you immediately. “Fucking touch yourself for me,” he says again, leaving no room for argument. “Wanna see you cum all over me, see your pretty face and hear how good you sound.”

Really, who were you to deny such a convincing statement? Especially when he asked so nicely.

“Fuck,” you whisper in defeat, bringing your hand between your legs and taking a deep breath before pressing your two middle fingers into your clit, whimpering softly as you drew small circles around it, the pleasure of that mixing with the way Matt still thrust into you making you clench your eyes shut again, moaning as your head dug back into the pillow, back arching into the pleasure. “Oh my god, so good, Matt.”

Once he saw your eyes close again, Matt looked down to where your hand was picking up speed on your sensitive nerves, your movements and his grinding matching up in pace until your legs were trembling again, still held in place by his rough grip. “That’s perfect, baby, shit, you’re fucking made for me, hm? Made to take me all the way like this?”

“Yes,” you choke out, throat starting to straight from how hard you were rubbing yourself, breath starting to catch in your throat. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god, Matt, I’m cumming again,” you gasp, whole body tensing up for a few seconds before your orgasm crashed over you, your whole body shaking and legs trying to close but unable to due to Matt holding them in place. He’s groaning loudly, thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he chased his own high, his mouth dropping in pleasure when he finally reached his peak, loud, attractive moans spilling from his lips.

Matt’s own eyes are screwed shut as he paints his release over your walls, breath shaky as he slows down, unaware of how hard he’s gripping into your skin until you whine his name out and push your legs out of his grip. When he lets go, his forearms come down to rest on either side of your head, his face burying in your neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans tiredly, still buried inside you. “Y’have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like that.”

You laugh, running a clammy hand over his equally sweaty back, patting his skin in a teasing matter. “Glad you got it out of your system.” You reply.

His head pops up after you speak, staring down at you questioningly. “Oh, I didn’t. I’ve still got plenty of fantasies to run through.” Matt tells you, and though his tone is silly, you know he’s completely serious, so you raise your eyebrows at him inquisitively. “Did this not fulfill your fantasies?” You ask him.

He scoffs and sends you a classic Matt eye roll, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking him that. “It did, but only some. I’ve got like a year’s worth of filthy shit I wanna do to you.” He tells you, dipping back down to nip at the soft skin on your neck, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before letting go, blowing over the wet spot to make you shiver. “Like mark you up, fuck you all over my house, in my car, in the shower, I wanna fuck you on your hands and knees, wanna watch you ride me, wanna fuck that pretty, pretty mouth of yours, wanna hear you beg for me…” his lips are moving down your skin as he speaks, leaving soft kisses along his route until he’s nestled between your breasts, pulling away to look down at your body. “Wanna be able to call you mine,” he confesses, leaning back in to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. The feeling made you whine softly, your core tingling in anticipation, even though you were spent and anymore contact might make you cry.

“Matt,” you huff, reaching up to grab his face and push him off, looking down at his pouty expression. “Everything is so sensitive, feels like my skin is on fire.”

He smiles down at you, like he’s taken your words in the complete opposite direction you meant, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perfect, so you can give me one more, yeah?”

You’re still processing what he’s said by the time he’s scooted back down the bed and positioned his face between your legs once again, a big grin on his face. You’re about to push him away and tell him you can’t take anymore, you’re too overstimulated to give him anything else, but when his mouth comes forward and starts working on you again, you’re silenced aside from the loud groans and whines coming from your lips, deciding one more couldn’t hurt.

-

a/n: matt’s favorite adjective for you is pretty. clearly (:

also welcome to my playlist series! leave requests for songs you’d like me to write songs based off of

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah

@sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo

@secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside

@sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo

@sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003

@poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga

[heartsforvin]

UNTOUCHABLE

bfb is probably one of my favorite tropes 😣 stream bfb by victoria justice 💋

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: smut, praise, use of pet names, dirty talk, cussing, oral (f receiving), slight choking kink, dom!vinnie, age gap (r’s 19, v’s 22), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink, perv!vinnie, if i missed anything lmk !!

summary: you’re untouchable to vinnie, considering you’re his brothers best friend, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore

a/n: guys i loveee writing perv!vinnie can you tell yet ?? (i can’t help it, i love the idea 🤭)

he needed you. needed you in every and any way he could get you. he felt wrong, though. almost gross, like he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you.

you are his brothers best friend, he’s known you for years, that’s one of the reasons why he feels a bit disgusted by himself.

just a bit, though.

you’ve been around since his brother entered the sixth grade, so you have basically grown up with this family. having spent many summers, along with just nights in general with the family.

he’s seen you through puberty, and he can’t lie, once you started filling out and growing more, he couldn’t help but spare a few glances once in awhile.

you’ve always thought nothing of it, always thought that was just the big brother instinct in him — to watch over not only reggie while the two of you hung out, but you as well.

you didn’t realize until around sophomore year of high school though, that it was more of just tiny glances and hand touches.

you thought vinnie was attractive, sure. especially when he got a little older. when the tattoos became a regular addition to his body along with the abs.

you’d never let him know that outright though. part of you always thought he was full of himself.

when you noticed he started gaining fame, you thought he was taking it all to his head.

he’d post those thirst traps, and though you did find them hot when you were sixteen, seventeen, you just thought he was full of it now.

vinnie has always been a bit more touchy with you. always finding an excuse to rub up against you or touch your hand.

you’d always just push him off, telling him to back off before reggie saw and got the wrong impression.

that’s the last thing you needed. for your best friend to know you were into his brother.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

“need some help, princess?” you heard his voice and immediately rolled your eyes as you planted your heals back on the ground.

it was a hot summer day, and all you wanted to do was hang out with reggie by the pool.

he had asked you to go grab more plastic cups from the house, to which you agreed.

now here you were, standing on your tip toes as you tried to reach the top shelf.

you felt vinnie’s front press against your back, his breath on your ear as he reached his arm to the shelf with ease.

“thanks.” you reply meekly, already over him for the day.

he flashed you a smile before heading back to the stairs, probably back up to his room to play video games.

you made it back outside quickly, not wanting to take too long for reggie to notice you went missing for minutes on end.

the two of you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water as you drank soda in the cups you had just brought out.

you were talking about college and what classes the two of you were taking when you heard the back door open.

turning around, you saw vinnie walk out in only his swim trunks, tattoos on full display.

rolling your eyes, you turned back to your best friend as the two of you continued talking.

about ten minutes later, reggie had mentioned he needed to use the bathroom and that he’ll be out in a minute.

you nodded and set your cup down next to you, watching as vinnie replaced reggie’s spot as soon as the back door shut.

“that a new suit?” he questioned, making you look down to see which one you were wearing.

it was a light pink string bikini. you saw it at target weeks prior and remembered you needed a new suit for the summer.

vinnie’s eyes raked over your body as you sat next to him. he gave a longer glance at your tits, seeing how nice they fit in your top.

his gaze moved down to your thighs, looking at the plush skin and imagining what it’d be like to get in between them.

he wondered a lot of things about you. he had overheard a conversation you had with reggie once, talking about how experienced the two of you were.

it was nothing odd or uncomfortable for you to talk about with the younger sibling, if anything it was normal.

the two of you knew everything about each other, nothing was too off limits or tmi.

so when vinnie heard you had never had sex with anyone, he smiled to himself, hoping he could be the first person to pleasure you.

“what do you want?” your sharp tone broke him out of his thoughts. “reg’s gonna be back in a minute, can’t have him getting the wrong idea.”

if anything he’d probably expect nothing of it, just his best friend and his brother having a normal conversation.

you were terrified of him having the wrong impression on the two of you though. he’s asked you before if you’ve ever had even the slightest crush on his brother, to which you just laughed.

if he had asked you about three years ago, maybe the answer would be yes, but now? hell no.

the touch on your thigh almost made you spit out your drink. “you don’t want that,” vinnie breathed. “i could personally care less of what my brother thinks im doing with anyone.”

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, placing it in his lap. as soon as you did, you heard the back door open again.

“you guys hungry?” you heard reggie call out, to which you moved quicker than ever.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

later on that night, you and reggie got ready to chill and watch a movie. you had decided to spend the night last minute, it was a friday night after all so neither of you had classes in the morning.

as you were walking back to reggie’s room from the bathroom, you could’ve sworn you heard what sounded like moaning that came from the eldest boys’ room.

you stopped in front of his door, wondering if you should bust in and interrupt to make fun of him, or to stay here a minute.

you never really imagined vinnie in that way. not often at least. the thought did cross your mind here and there, but you pushed it back.

you didn’t like him. didn’t like how he gawked at you — looked at you like prey. how he was always touching you in some way.

at the same time though, you kind of did like it. no guy had ever really paid any mind to you, and vinnie does.

maybe it was just the male validation you so desperately craved, or maybe you actually did like vinnie.

as you stood there, you could’ve sworn you heard your name fall out of his mouth, which made your eyes go wide.

you contemplated on what you wanted to do. you could easily go back to reggie’s room and apologize for taking too long. or you could fulfill both yours and vinnie’s fantasies.

with a shaky exhale, you slowly pushed the door open and the sight before you made you instantly wet.

there he was, naked from the chest down, his boxers resting on his ankles, as he jerked himself off with your swimsuit top.

it was disgusting, filthy even, but for some reason you found it so hot in this moment.

you don’t even remember where you had put your suit after the swim earlier. either way, vinnie found it and decided to put it to use.

you just stood there, unable to move as you watched his fist move rapidly with your swimsuit top in hand, watching, listening to the noises he made.

“s-shit princess, yeah just like that.” you heard him say, making you clench around nothing.

when his eyes opened that’s when you gasped, covering your mouth in case it was too loud.

vinnie didn’t even hesitate to try and put on his boxers or even cover himself with a blanket.

“what are you doing in here, sweetheart?” his tone was low, gaze fixated on you and your sleep shirt.

you wore shorts underneath but they were short, so it went unnoticed. when vinnie saw your bare legs, he smiled.

you didn’t answer him, feeling embarrassed for even being in here at all. you felt dirty.

“come here,” vinnie said as he threw your cum-stained swimsuit top on the ground. “come sit on my lap, baby.”

you smiled, a rush of energy and confidence running through you now. you always wondered deep down what it’d be like to be on his lap, in his arms.

he had draped a blanket over his half-hard dick. no doubt it’ll be back to its hard state in a matter of seconds.

you straddled the man’s lap, your hands around his neck while his rested on your ass. your shirt rose up so your shorts were now visible.

“kinda hoped you were only wearin’ panties under this,” he chuckled as he smacked your ass. “would love to see those cute ones, y’know with the strawberries on ‘em?”

you blush, having packed those exact ones for tomorrow morning when you went back to your house to get a change of clothes.

his grip on you tightens, he’s got you where he’s wanted you for months now.

“or,” he starts, moving closer to your ear, kissing right under it softly. “that black thong you have. god, is that hot.”

you can’t believe this is happening. reggie would kill you if he found out vinnie laid a finger on you in this sort of situation.

“vinnie,” you whine as he moves you against his lap, your cunt grinding against his cock. “please.”

he smirks. “please what?” he asks as he leans in, mouths almost touching.

you squirm on him, making vinnie grip you a bit harder to keep you in place. “need you, want you.”

vinnie smiles before he places his lips on yours. the kiss turns hungry fast, hands roaming each others bodies as your tongues meet together.

“switch with me,” he says before lifting you off his lap. you stand on the ground as he does the same. “lay on the bed.”

you do as told, laying on the bed fully clothed while he stays how he is. once your head meets his pillow, vinnie climbs back on the bed and hovers over you.

he kisses your neck, making sure to leave marks even if you protest. he makes his way down to your collarbone and is soon tugging at the collar of your shirt.

your eyes widen as he takes the shirt off of you without even asking. he smirks as he looks up at you. “no bra, huh?” he asks.

you blush, even though you shouldn’t be embarrassed for being comfortable, there’s a part of you that is.

vinnie see’s your eyes shift and brings his hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly. you smile and lean into his touch.

without any warning he’s got his mouth planting kisses all down your chest and to your stomach. you grab his hair and tug at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

when he makes it to your shorts, he looks up at you and asks if he can take them off along with your panties.

you nod but then give him the verbal confirmation, he wastes no time pulling them off you.

“look at you,” his tone is deep, making chills run down your body. “already so wet f’me.” he says, slowly dragging a finger through your folds.

you whimper at the contact, grabbing his hair and tugging as his finger swipes against you.

you watch as he lowers himself on the bed, laying flat against his chest, his face now mere inches from where you need him.

all your nerves are gone, as if you aren’t scared for what’s about to come and how to handle everything.

vinnie smiles up at you before he dives in, sucking on your clit as you tug at the locks of his hair.

“taste so good, pretty,” he moans into you, making you whine in pleasure. “such a good girl for me.”

the praise goes straight to your head as you feel vinnie grip your thighs, holding you in place.

as his tongue continues to suck on your clit, he slides his index finger along your folds before pushing it into you.

a loud moan rips from your throat but vinnie’s quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you.

“don’t want reggie to get the wrong impression now, do we?” he asks, referring to what you told him earlier.

you shake your head, his hand still covering your mouth. he smiles as he removes the tattooed hand away from you, lifting his head to kiss you softly.

his mouth is on your sensitive pussy once again, with his index finger curling inside you, making you close your legs around him.

vinnie groans as he pushes your legs open again, he continues his actions before he feels the grip on his hair tighten.

“v-vinnie,” you moan softly, feeling a knot in your lower belly tighten. “baby.”

his gaze reaches you, he knows what’s coming and his movements quickened. you tighten your legs around his head, gripping the sheets as you moan profanities.

you try your best to stay as quiet as you can, but it’s no use once you feel yourself release on the man’s face below you.

vinnie smiles as he catches every ounce, lifting up and leaning on his elbows as he looks up at you.

“thanks for the warning, princess.” vinnie chuckles as he pushes himself up to hover over you.

you blush with a slight smile, suddenly feeling nervous now that the real thing might happen.

vinnie gives you a sweet smile, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “what’s wrong?”

the question is genuine, throwing you off since he’s usually not like that with you.

“i’m a virgin,” you say quietly, lowering your head. vinnie lifts your chin with his index finger, kissing you softly.

“i can’t promise you i’ll be gentle, you know how bad ive been wanting this.” he tells you truthfully.

you nod, knowing already that if this were to happen he’d definitely not be the slightest bit of gentle with you.

he gives you a look to ask if you’re ready, you nod but also let out a quiet but audible ‘yes’ to let him know.

he kisses you roughly before pulling back and positioning himself to enter you.

once he does, you gasp at the feeling of having him inside you. he waits a minute for you to adjust before he starts moving.

he grips your hips, thrusting hard into you as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.

he smiles. he’s been wanting this for so long now, cant believe he’s finally got you where he wanted you.

“fuck vin, you’re so big.” you moan, watching as vinnie gives you a smirk.

he moves his hand to grab yours, bringing it down to your lower tummy. “you feel that, pretty girl? that’s all me, fillin’ you up so good, yeah?”

you whimper at the feeling of having his cock inside you. you grab his hand and squeeze tightly.

“feel good, huh? like havin’ my cock inside you, baby? feeling me everywhere?” he asks, knowing the answer already.

you nod with a soft moan followed by it, trying your best to not be so loud no matter how good it feels.

the pain subsided and turned to pleasure, making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

as vinnie’s thrusts became quicker, you watched as his hand slid from your hip to your throat in a matter of seconds, applying pressure.

he saw you smile and applied a bit more pressure. “you like that, don’t you?” he asks.

you try to nod the best you can, vinnie leans in to kiss you and you immediately meet him, kissing back with just as much need as he is you.

he watches you pull apart from his lips and start to move your hand down to your clit.

“nuh, uh,” he smacks your hand away. “i’m not done with you yet.”

before you can speak, he’s flipping you over so you’re on top now. you’ve never been in this position so he helps you guide yourself on him.

“yeah, just like that, good girl.” he praises when he feels you clench around him. “fuck you feel amazing.”

you soon catch on and give yourself a rhythm, bouncing on him with ease while vinnie grabs your tits and squeezes them in his palms.

“been wanting to get my hands on these for so long, y’know that, sweet girl?” he tells you as he lowers his mouth to your chest.

he takes your right breast into his mouth and sucks, definitely leaving marks. he gives the left one the same attention after.

“vinnie.” you moan, throwing your head back at the feeling of his mouth on your chest.

he watches you ride him, completely obsessed of the sight in front of him. as much as your swimsuit top was doing wonders for him, actually being inside you is definitely better.

vinnie squeezes your tits once more before gripping your hips again. “god you feel so good sweetheart,” he groans. “wanna fill you up, put a baby in you.”

he doesn’t even register what he says, just spewing words, feeling way too good in the moment.

you however do register what he said. “want it vin,” you whine out.

he smirks, gliding his thumbs against the plush of your thighs. “yeah, you want me to knock you up? have my babies? bet you someone would be very mad if they found out.”

you know who he’s talking about but right now you don’t care. the euphoria completely washes over all the fear from you.

his thrusts become faster and harsher, making you hold onto his shoulders for support. your head dips to rest in the crook of his neck while his hands move to cup your ass.

he bounces you on him, moans erupting from both of you as your highs near.

vinnie’s hand moves from your ass to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. “gonna cum, sweet girl. you’re gonna cum with me, ‘kay?”

you nod, a loud moan slipping from your lips at the pressure of his harsh rubs.

“almost baby, come on,” he urges, you continue your movements, scratching his back as you do. “fuck, sweetheart i’m there.”

before you can confirm that you are too, you’re already spilling out of him as he spills into you. he pushes himself into more, smirking as he does.

“gotta make sure it says in there if you want it to work, right?” he asks, to which you just sleepily nod.

the two of you stay connected for a minute before vinnie decides to pull out of you. you whine at the loss of contact to which he kisses your forehead.

you fall onto his bed with a loud sigh, smiling at the man next to you while he wraps his arms around you.

“do you think he heard?” you ask quietly.

vinnie stays silent for a moment, before saying, “you’re probably gonna have to have a long talk with him. me and you.” he explains.

you sigh, not wanting to deal or even think about the talk you’re gonna have to have with your best friend in the morning.

he sees your frustration and holds you tighter, kissing your cheek. you smile.

you want to ask the question but it’s probably dumb and he’ll probably just laugh, thinking you’re just some naïve kid.

you decide to stay silent, basking in this moment of being in his arms right now.

“goodnight, vinnie.” you say quietly as you nuzzle into his chest.

he smiles, hugging you tighter. “goodnight, princess.” he responds, kissing your head.

you hoped this wouldn’t be the last time you got to feel his touch.

HEYYYYY I LOVED THIS 🤗🤗 sorry if it’s so damn long, i had so much fun writing it !!!

i hope you all liked it as much as I did, pls lmk cus i LOVE yalls feedback (unless you don’t like it, keep that shit to yourself LMAO)

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @forevergirlposts , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @violet0182 , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh , @laylasbunbunny , @louloulemons-blog , @st4rswrld , @kriissy4gov

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where the fire department is called. And Nirvana might not just be a word on a hoodie. or The twenty-sixth installment of the Skz!Pack Prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, Pack!prequel, ot8, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, skz smut, skz fluff, skz angst, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, abo, a/b/o, skz abo, alpha beta omega, femreader, poly!skz

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Title: Emergency Stop

12 Hours Earlier

Chan sighs heavily and leans back in his chair, spinning a few aimless circles as he lets his gaze wander across the tiled ceiling of the student studio. 

He listens to the sound of fingers clicking across keyboards, the quiet hum of equipment, and then announces finally, to no one in particular, just to get it off his chest, “I think she’s avoiding me.” Hongjoong pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them drop down around his neck, as he turns from his current project to stare at Chan in exasperation, one dark brow arched. 

“I think that’s a little dramatic, mate.” 

“Wellllllll-” Changbin hems from the other side of the room, a grimace going across his features, as he swivels in his chair to face them, not quite meeting Chan’s gaze. 

Chan bolts upright, his voice loud with triumph. “Ah ha! I knew it!” 

“Oh my goood.” Hongjoong groans, scrubbing at his face with his hands, before he must decide that they’re not worth the trouble, turning back to his computer and pulling his headphones back up- on both ears this time. 

Changbin’s lips twist to the side in an obvious guilt ridden expression, his dark eyes finally meeting Chan’s. 

Chan feels his stomach drop as he regards his best friend and packmate’s worry. 

“What?” He asks, suddenly breathless, leaning forward in the office chair, his alpha suddenly on high alert. “What did I do? How did I fuck it up? You gotta tell me how to fix it, Bin, it’s fucking with my head.” 

Changbin reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, Chan recognizes the nervous gesture, and clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, as if trying to focus on anything except the man in front of him. 

“You didn’t do anything, hyung. I swear to god, but I can’t tell you anything else, because (Y/N) will fucking eat me alive.” 

“She is pretty fucking scary.” Hongjoong chimes in once more, glancing over his shoulder at Chan, his fingers paused on the mouse. “Almost in Seonghwa’s league. Almost.” 

Chan glances back to Changbin, who is nodding avidly along in agreement with what the other alpha is saying. 

Chan’s alpha is growling at his mate’s resistance, at the way he’s holding back, even if he knows how to fix this whole mess, but he takes in a deep, steadying breath, and clamps his hands in his lap, willing the angry wolf back down. 

“Bin.” He tries again, glancing back to the other man, his voice steady, calm, imploring. “You gotta tell me something. If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t fix it, and I’m going crazy over here.” Changbin’s chest heaves with a sigh, and then he swallows, Chan watches the way his Adam's apple bobs, as he looks up to the ceiling, as if for some form of silent approval. 

Finally, he sighs again, audibly this time, and rakes a hand agitatedly through his dark hair. 

“Fine.” 

Chan feels his entire body tense, waiting on what comes next. 

He can sense a headache starting to pound to life behind his left eye. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the current situation, or because he hasn’t really seen you much over the last week, and his alpha is taking direct note of the loss of contact. 

Changbin shakes his head slightly to himself, as if he can’t believe what he’s going to say, going to reveal, and then he grits out, “She’s worried about something she said.” 

Chan’s mind races, going over every tiny interaction the two of you have had in the last week and a half. 

Nothing significant comes to mind. 

“What?” He asks, puzzled, as if Changbin can reveal the clues to him. 

Instead, the other alpha gives a half hearted shrug. 

“I dunno, hyung. She wouldn’t tell me anything besides that. I’m sorry, man.” 

Chan shakes his head, still analyzing every time you’ve spoken, or interacted, since he saw you during Jeongin’s heat. 

Honestly, it wasn’t much, considering you’d been avoiding him at all costs. 

He manages a weak grin, and stands, walking over to pat Changbin on the back. 

“Nah, it’s fine, mate. Thanks for telling me that much. I’ll figure it out.” 

Changbin glances up at him, expression unreadable, and gives a curt nod, already reaching for his headphones again. 

“She feels things really fucking deeply. Deeper than the rest of us. Sometimes she just needs a little space to figure it out. But she cares about you, hyung. A lot. She wouldn’t be this fucking worried if she didn’t.” 

Chan grips his shoulder a little tighter, a silent sign of acknowledgement, and goes back to his own work station. 

He knows Changbin’s right. Knows he speaks from experience. 

So why is his stomach still in knots? 

*******

Fuck. 

Your eyes dart around the small kitchen, helplessly looking for an escape route, before they settle on the two men sitting at the table, staring you down. 

You clear your throat, and try to work up an easy smile. 

“You were talking about me? I’m flattered Min.” 

Minho’s smirk widens, growing sharp and dangerous, as if he knows exactly what you’re trying to do. 

You’re sure he does. 

He pats the chair beside him, in the middle of he and Chan. 

“Have a seat.” 

You can’t think of literally anything worse in this moment, your skin already hot underneath Chan’s stare, your fingers itching at your side, your alpha begging you to please get the fuck out of here already.

You take a step backward, back toward the safety of the hallway. 

“That’s okay, I actually was just leaving to go on a run.” 

Minho’s brow arches a little higher. 

“At eleven PM?” 

There is amusement in his tone, as if he knows he’s caught you in an outright lie. 

You give a little shrug, and take another step toward the door. 

“I do my best running at night. Must be the wolf in me.” 

You don’t dare look at Chan, not when he’s right here, staring at you, expression unreadable. He hasn’t said one word since you entered the room, and you can practically feel your body withering from the shame of his heavy gaze. 

It’s like he can see right through you, and you need to get out of here, right now. 

“Anyway-” You’re halfway into the hallway now, the front door, your shining savior, within sight. You give the men a little wave and another unconvincing, weak smile. “-gotta go. Have fun.” 

You dart for the front door, nearly bowling an emerging Jisung over, sending his popcorn flying. 

“Hey!” He protests with a glare in your direction, but you don’t stop, tugging on your sneakers with record speed, before you barrel out the door of the apartment. 

“Sorry, Jisungie!” You call over your shoulder, because you are, but honestly, in times of crisis-

You can breathe easier out here, in the quiet darkness of the dorm hallway, even though you’re still practically jogging, headed directly for the elevator. 

You’re making a beeline for your dorm a few floors down, and you’re staying locked up in there until Chan decides to leave. 

Well, not leave, because he lives here too, but at least until he decides to go back to his own kitchen and stop talking to Minho about whatever the hell they were discussing. 

You slide through the gap of the doors in the elevator before they’re fully open, and pound the second floor button a few more times than necessary, catching your breath as you wait for the doors to close. 

They’re almost down to a sliver, and you think you’ve gotten away with your hasty escape, when an arm shoots through, bouncing them back open, and Chan steps into view. 

Immediately, the breath you’ve just regained leaves your body, as he joins you in the elevator, the doors hissing shut quietly behind him. 

There’s silence, the space suddenly feeling smaller than normal, as you stare him down warily from your corner. 

“What-” You start to say, in an attempt at least to fill the uncomfortable quiet, but Chan beats you to it.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He demands, dark eyes flashing, as the elevator jolts into motion. 

You brace yourself against the wall, your mouth dropping open at his serious, commanding tone. 

“I’m not avoiding you-” You start to protest weakly, the lie sounding unconvincing to even your own ears. 

“Bullshit” Chan cuts you off once more with a growl, taking a menacing step toward you, and suddenly, you know, you’re not dealing with Christopher Bang any longer, you’re dealing with his alpha.

His irrational, incredibly pissed off and slighted alpha. 

Fuck. 

The elevator feels tiny now, saturated with the scent of thunder, and you swallow hard, your own alpha flattening its ears in response. 

The sound of a ding signals the arrival of the next floor, and before you can make a move to do something, anything, Chan reaches behind him without a glance, and slams his palm down over the emergency stop button. 

The elevator grinds to a sudden halt with an eerie shriek of gears, and then there is silence, all movement ceased. 

Your mouth falls open once more, but you feel your own anger flare to life in the pit of your stomach, rising to meet his. 

“Chan, what the fuck do you think you’re doing-” 

He stalks toward you, and you shrink back into the corner, the cool metal of the hand bar digging into your back. 

“Exactly what I should’ve done when this whole nonsense started.” He growls, caging you in as he puts his hands on either side of your head, fingers digging into the slick, cool brushed metal of the elevator’s walls as he glares down at you. 

You’re choking on the storm now, your heart pounding against the wall of your ribs. 

But you hold your ground regardless, lifting your head as defiance flashes across your gaze, and frost starts to crackle outward from you, freezing the storm. 

“Oh? And what’s that? Emergency stop an elevator in a little temper tantrum?” 

His dark eyes flash, and a muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice is steady when he responds. 

“If I have to trap you in a room with me to get you to talk over things like an adult, like my mate, then yes.” 

You scoff, looking away from his burning gaze. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“That’s not what Changbin said.” 

Your head jerks up, your angry gaze meeting his. 

“Fuck Changbin.” 

“I do, and I enjoy it.” Chan fires right back without missing a beat, crowding you into the corner further, his scowl deepening. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?” 

“I’m not. Avoiding you.” You grind out through gritted teeth, your jaw clicking with the immense pressure of keeping your rage back. 

It’s a blatant lie, and you both know it. 

Chan’s eyes darken, dripping golden around the pupils now, and when he parts his lips, his teeth flash in what’s almost a snarl, dangerous and threatening. 

You can practically feel his alpha’s teeth poised warningly over your exposed throat. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry before. 

“You think-” He begins, and his voice has dropped dangerously, a menacing growl in the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest. “-that even if I was stupid enough not to notice, he wouldn’t?” 

Your lips part, ready to spit something back, but something about his words ring true in the hollow pit of your stomach. 

He’s right. You could avoid him all you wanted, but your alpha, and his, would know. They were the ones who were suffering because of the distance, keening for their mates. 

Fuck, if it was hell for the two of you, it was fucking torture for them. 

Chan’s gaze hasn’t wavered from your own, not once, and when he speaks again, his words are just above a murmur, and you don’t miss the way his breath trembles on his next inhale. 

“I can’t fucking sleep, (Y/N.) I can’t eat, I can’t study, I can’t produce, I can’t do anything, because every single waking moment is spent trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.” 

You feel guilt drop like a hot pound of lead into the pit of your stomach. 

You lean your head back on the wall behind you, and meet his gaze head on, your voice quiet, but steady, when you reply back, “It wasn’t anything you did.” 

Confusion starts to pool into his expression, easing some of the anger, and you feel your own fury start to melt away like sand with the tide, leaving your body tired and heavy. 

“Then why?” He questions back, gaze boring into your own. 

You sigh, and glance behind him to the still blinking emergency stop button, wondering how much time you have before someone notices the elevator hasn’t moved and calls the fire department to rescue the two of you. 

That’s all you need right now. Better hurry this up. 

“I said something.” You announce without preamble, shifting your gaze to meet his own once more, sudden fear rising like bile in your throat. You force through the feeling, and swallow hard. “The day you asked me for help during Jeongin’s presentation.” Chan watches you closely, silently, and you give a little shrug and half a laugh-it’s awkward, and fleeting, and leaves the space in between you feeling heavier than before. 

“And I wasn’t sure if what I’d said-what I’d admitted-made you feel weird. I was scared I’d messed shit up, and I wanted to give you space to deal, if that was the case.” 

Chan cocks his head-the motion is endearing, like a puppy-and you resist the urge to reach up and push some of the curls back off his forehead with your fingers. 

Confusion is clear on every inch of his features now. 

“What did you-” He starts to ask, and then something clicks behind his expression, his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. “Oh, you mean the love thing.” “Oh my god.” You groan, covering your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “Do we have to call it that?” 

When you peek back through your fingers, Chan is smiling, his lips pulled crookedly to one side, the gold fading slowly from his gaze. 

“That’s why you were avoiding me? You were worried about that?” 

“Yes!” You shriek,a little bit louder than necessary, and Chan’s grin widens even more. “I mean, that’s a fuck of a thing to announce to someone out of the blue, when they’re already dealing with a ton of shit and I didn’t know how you’d take it.” 

Chan tilts his head, regarding you. “But you’ve already told me you love me. Once before. Remember?” 

You stare at him like he’s just grown another head, and then it clicks. 

“That didn’t count!” You cough out, choking on your own spit, waving your hands wildly as you try to regain your breath. “That was like a post fuck thing, I was feeling sappy,  I just threw it out there to everyone in general, you guys had just saved me and given me the best orgasm of my life and it wasn’t-” “True?” Chan finishes for you, though there’s no hurt on his face, only slight amusement. 

“No!” You protest, growing angry again as you grow more flustered by the second. “It was true, it just wasn’t so-”

“Direct?” Chan tries once again, watching you closely. 

“Yeah.” You finish helplessly, your shoulders slumping. 

Chan gives a little laugh, and slides one of his large hands down the elevator wall to grip your chin in his fingers, raising your embarrassed gaze to his once more. 

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth settling into an affectionate smile, as you struggle a little and try to resist his gaze. 

“Baby. Look at me.” 

You finally do as he says, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and he arches a brow at you. 

The air between you is heavy with ice and storm, but it doesn’t feel so oppressive now. 

In fact, the headache you’ve been battling all week seems to be miraculously gone. 

Chan’s lips twitch, and you huff at him a little, folding your arms across your chest at his obvious amusement in your sheepishness. 

“Listen. If it hasn’t been incredibly fucking clear since the first time I met you that I’m head over heels for you, then I must not be doing enough to prove it to you.” 

Your own lips twitch into the hint of a smile then, and you begrudgingly uncross your arms from your chest. 

“No, you’re doing enough. Trust me. Following me around like a little lost puppy when I openly hated your guts for the first couple of weeks definitely sold it.”

Chan laughs, and the sound sends warmth cascading down your body. 

Your tired muscles feel a little more manageable now. 

 Chan leans in, and rests his forehead against yours. 

You take a moment to breathe him in, and then he murmurs, breath warm on your face, “Now, say it again, but don’t run away this time.” 

You smirk, keeping your eyes closed as you whisper back, “There’s not really anywhere for me to go. You saw to that.” 

He chuckles, breath fanning across your skin, but doesn’t move to pull away. 

You take in a deep breath, and let your hands skim up the warm length of his arms, letting your fingers take him in for a moment, before you breathe out, “I love you, Christopher Bang. Even though I hated your guts, and fucked up a couple of huge things, and you trapped me in an elevator with you-twice, I might add, against my will-I love you, and I don’t think that’s ever not been true.” 

Chan opens his eyes, and you stare into the golden flecks of his irises, before he pulls back, and his lips curve into the start of a smirk. 

“Now, was that so hard?” 

You swing an arm out and hit him lightly in the chest, giving him a fake glare. 

“Say it back.” 

He grins, and leans in, caging you with his forearms once more against the cool metal behind your head, his nose brushing your own. 

“I fucking love you, (Y/N), I always have. Even when you hated my guts. In fact, in retrospect, I think that made me love you even more.” 

You giggle, and Chan covers your mouth with his without warning, swallowing the sound. 

You let your hands trace up his back and into his hair, fingers tangling in his curls, as he flicks his tongue between the seam of your lips and into your waiting mouth. 

The sharp points of his canines graze and tug at your bottom lip, and you moan, breaking the kiss as you let your head fall back to the wall behind you, breathing heavily, as Chan presses kisses down your jaw, the column of your throat, tickling and teasing your skin as he nibbles your collarbone, traces your scent gland with his tongue. 

“They’re gonna send the fire department after us, you know.” You gasp out, gaze flicking beyond him once more to the flashing button on the wall, as he drops to his knees in front of you, fingers finding your hip bones. 

Chan looks up at you, lips red and kiss bitten, a grin stretching the pink skin over white teeth. 

He arches a brow. 

“Lucky for you, baby, they’re not incredibly known for their fast response time, and I’m a fairly quick worker.” 

You reach out a hand to stop him as he reaches for the closure of your pants, and when he looks up at you in confusion, your lips lift into a smirk. 

“What if I told you I wanted to take my time?” 

His lips slowly lift into a wicked grin of his own. 

“I think we can make that happen.” 

********

Your apartment is closer than Chan’s (by one floor, but hey, a floor is a floor), so after apologizing to some severely annoyed alphas who were waiting on the stalled elevator, you push through your front door and Chan doesn’t wait a second before he pounces. 

He backs you against the wall of the hallway, his hands dropping to your waist once more, his mouth already on yours. 

His tongue swipes around the inside of your mouth, and you groan into him. “About that taking our time thing-” 

Chan chuckles huskily, the sound going right to your core, and if you weren’t already incredibly wet before, you sure as hell are now. 

There’s a quiet sound behind the two of you and you freeze, leaning up to glance over Chan’s shoulder, suddenly on full alert. 

“Jeongin?” 

Chan follows your gaze, your mouth open in shock, to the omega standing beside the front door, waving sheepishly to the two of you, his cheeks almost as red as his hair. 

“Hey, noona.” 

You slip out beneath Chan’s arm and approach him, surprise clearly etched across your face. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was waiting for you.” Jeongin gives a little shrug, but he won’t meet your eyes, embarrassment clear on his pretty features. “You said later earlier and I thought-” 

Oh. Fuck. 

You let out a sigh, suddenly feeling more than a little remorseful. “Sorry, Innie. I was hanging out at Minho’s and then Chan was there-” 

Jeongin glances down, scuffing his shoe into the worn carpet. “No, it’s fine, noona. I was just gonna sneak out when I heard the two of you, but I should’ve known I had no chance when up against a wolf’s hearing.” 

His hand reaches for the doorknob, and without thinking, you reach out and stop him. 

“Wait-” You swallow, his large, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “I mean. You can join us? If you want?” 

Jeongin stares at you, his pupils huge. 

“What?” Chan approaches, his hand going on your shoulder as he addresses Jeongin. “Yeah, Innie. It’s up to you, but we don’t mind-” 

You notice the way Chan reaches up to rub his neck as he speaks, as if he’s just as nervous over this as Jeongin is. 

“Don’t feel any pressure.” You hurry to reassure the omega standing in front of you. “I know you don’t have much experience, and one alpha on a good day is a lot, so if this is too overwhelming-”

Jeongin bites his lip and glances between the two of you. Finally, he says hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’d like that. But-” He takes in a nervous breath. “Can I just watch for a little bit first? Would that be okay?” 

You smirk. “Oh, so you’re one of those?” 

Jeongin instantly flushes, and you rush to reassure him you were only teasing, looping an arm around his shoulders as you lead him back toward your room, Chan following on your heels. 

“I’m just kidding, baby. There’s nothing wrong with a little voyeurism. Minho loves to watch.” 

“He also loves to boss.” Chan says with a slight smirk, as he steps ahead of you and pushes open the closed door, allowing you both to pass first into the room. 

“That he does.” You laugh a little, and then turn to Jeongin. “Okay, pup. Pick your poison.”

Jeongin glances around, clearly still a little shy given the circumstances, and then he settles into the desk chair in the corner of your room, opposite the bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and nods. “Okay. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Chan has come to stand against your back, tickling his fingers up and down your spine, brushing his nose across the juncture of your throat, and at Jeongin’s words, he groans, and you feel him press into you from behind. He’s still clearly worked up from before, the momentary pause hasn’t even phased him. 

“That’s gonna be pretty hard to do when you smell so fucking good, pup.” 

Jeongin looks wide eyed at Chan’s throaty admission, and leans over to not so subtly sniff his own shirt. “I don’t smell anything crazy.” 

Chan growls in his throat, and you smirk, reaching back to palm him through his jeans. He bucks his hips up into your hand, his fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“That’s because you’re used to how you smell, but you’re kinda blooming, Innie. It means your omega has sensed the presence of alphas-pack alphas-and is desperately trying to get our attention.” 

“Oh.” Jeongin murmurs, looking suddenly small. “I’m sorry, I can leave-” He makes a move to get up. 

“Sit down.” You command, and his pupils dilate at the sound of your timber, but he does as he’s told. You soften your tone a little. “You’re fine, Innie. You’re not going to distract from anything. If anything, your scent is going to make this all the more enjoyable.” 

Chan’s teeth graze over your scent gland, and you glance back at him, arching your brow. “Eager, are we?” 

Chan growls again, the sound a low rumble against your back, and snakes his hand around your waist, letting his fingers find the inside of your thighs. He applies pressure with the palm of his hand, and you arch your back in response, letting out a quick hitch of breath. 

“Very.” He replies, licking a stripe up the side of your neck with his tongue, tasting you. 

You turn to face him, your eyes flashing gold to match his own, but before you fully lose yourself in him, you glance once more at the omega over your shoulder, saying in a soft, serious tone, “Innie, if you want us to stop at any point, say something, and we will. Without hesitation.” 

He nods. “Yes, noona.” His eyes are wide, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches Chan pull you toward the bed. 

“Sit down.” Chan orders you, much like you had commanded Jeongin earlier, and you do so, but not without a slight smirk in his direction. 

“I’m not going to make this easy.” You warn, settling onto the edge of the bed, your expression wicked. 

Chan knocks apart your knees and stands between your legs, a look of annoyance on his features. One hand tangles into your hair and he yanks your head back, forcing you to look at him, as the other hand comes to loosely wrap around the front of your throat. 

You feel your pulse quicken under his hold.

“Don’t play that game, pet. Not right now. You already made me wait far too fucking long already.” Chan lifts his lips into the hint of a snarl, and the flash of his sharp canines has your inner thighs slick with want. 

He slides his hand slowly up the column of your throat, finally letting his fingers find purchase beneath your chin, tilting your head back even further. 

“But you know that already, don’t you?” He murmurs, staring down at you with something akin to a hungry predator in his dark gaze. 

You swallow beneath the hold he has on your throat, and arch a brow pettily in response. “Care to remind me?” 

Chan’s lips curl, and another animalistic growl slips through the barrier of his teeth. 

You hear Jeongin let out a sharp exhale from the corner, but you don’t look over.

Your entire body is electrified, waiting for Chan’s next move. 

“I could remind you who you belong to-” Chan muses, eyes flashing golden as he stares at you. “-but I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?” 

He leans down, and without warning, slips a hand down underneath the band of your pants. 

His fingers immediately touch your heat, and just by the look of satisfaction that flickers across his features, you can tell he feels just how wet you are already. 

He pulls back, and holds up his slick, glistening fingers for you to see with a cock of his head. 

“I think you already know.” He repeats in a low tone, advancing toward you now, backing you onto the bed, until he’s straddling you, leaning over your prone form. “Don’t you?” 

“Yes.” You breathe out, tired of playing already, tired of staying away from him. 

“Yes what?” He prods, lips curling up into the hint of a dangerous smirk, as he moves to strip you of your clothes. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Chan freezes, his pupils blowing at the nickname, and a muscle in his jaw ticks, as if he’s silently fighting himself for control, his hands curling into fists beside you on the bed. 

You openly smirk up at him. “Oh, I knew you’d like that one. You know, given your certain proclivities.” 

His irises are completely drowning in gold now, his lips parted slightly as he stares down at you, his breath coming in harsh pants, his chest heaving. 

Still smirking, you roll your head to the side and find Jeongin in your line of sight, arching a brow in the omega’s direction. 

“Did you catch that, Innie? When he was fucking you through your presentation?” Your voice is smooth like butter, dripping with taunting. You’re playing with the alpha on top of you now, and you all know it. 

Jeongin stares at you, his stare moving slowly to Chan and then back again. “Catch what, noona?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been holding his breath. 

You shift so you’re staring back up at Chan, looming over you, and your lips tick upward into a dangerous expression meant to goad. 

“Our Channie here has a little obsession-a fantasy, if you will-with breeding. He probably went easy on you the first time he knotted you, because you’re inexperienced, but he just loves to fill you up when he fucks you, loves the idea of stretching you with his seed and then his pups, hm, Channie?” 

A low growl rolls from Chan’s chest, and you hear Jeongin’s breath catch. 

The smell of cinnamon is overpowering. 

Chan pins your hands above your head in one smooth, quick motion, and leans over to bite down-hard-on your scent gland in the curvature of your shoulder. 

Not hard enough to mark or draw blood, but damn near close. 

Your body goes limp beneath him, your mind going blank, your jaw slack, and suddenly, any of the teasing from before is long gone, and the only thought is-alpha, alpha, alpha. 

He pulls back, licking his lips with a wicked smirk, and fuck it, he knows he’s won already. 

“I should punish you for teasing me, pet, but lucky for you, I’m far to eager to feel you squeezing every last drop out of me to make myself wait any longer.”

And without warning, he leans over and sinks his teeth into your muscle once again, sheathing himself fully inside of you in the same frantic motion. 

You cry out, the sensations hitting you all at once, and arch your body up into his hold. 

He hadn’t prepped you, but honestly, you were wet enough that he slid in without much resistance, and the friction was honestly close to pushing you over the edge already. 

Chan growls, the sound sending goosebumps over your skin, muffled by his hold on your shoulder, and thrusts wildly a few times, like an animal gone mad with desire. 

You let him, your fingers scrabbling at his skin, and letting your head roll to the side to give him more access to your neck, you catch sight of Jeongin, watching the two of you with something clearly hot, but tentative, on his features. 

Reaching a hand out, you splay it across Chan’s bare chest, stopping his movements, and he releases his teeth’s hold on you, as you say quietly to get his attention, “Chan.” 

He’s panting, but he stills, and the feeling of him filling you without moving is enough to drive you crazy, but you keep your focus on Jeongin as you hold out your free hand. 

“Done watching, Innie? Wanna join in?” 

The omega swallows, you see the way his throat bobs, and then he stands, looking suddenly nervous, but you can tell he’s intrigued and more than a little hot and bothered at this point if the tent in his pants is any indication. 

He approaches the bed, and swallows again. 

“You don’t have to.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing his fingers. “I know this can be overwhelming, but if you want to-” 

He nods, glancing down at you, his eyes trailing down the length of Chan’s body atop yours, before he meets your gaze once more with a look of determination. 

“No, I want to.” 

“Good boy.” You praise, before you tug him forward and onto the bed beside you and Chan. You jerk your head at his clothes. “Take those off.” 

He does so quickly, and then sits back down beside the two of you once more, looking unsure. “Now what?” 

You give him an encouraging smile. “Now, you’re gonna kneel above me and slide yourself into my mouth.” You open your lips and lean your head back to show him, careful not to jostle Chan. 

Jeongin’s eyes go wide. “What? But what if I hurt you-?” 

A raspy chuckle leaves Chan’s lips, and he gives the omega a soft look. “You’re not gonna hurt her, pup. I promise.”

“You’re not.” You reiterate, as Jeongin finally takes a breath and moves to kneel above your head. You glance up at him, as you wrap your hands around the back of his thighs. “And besides, now is as good a time as any to talk about safe words and safety gestures. I won’t be able to talk, obviously, but if I need you to stop at any time, I’ll tap you twice, like this, okay?”

 I tap the back of his thigh with two fingers hard, twice. 

Jeongin nods, staring down at my head between his knees. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat back, parting your lips once more. “Whenever you’re ready.” Jeongin hesitates briefly, glancing to Chan, who gives him a little nod, and then he leans forward and places the tip of himself into your mouth. 

You adjust slightly to allow easier access as he slowly slides between your lips. 

You see the way his body tenses as he feels your tongue on him, but he still gives you a worried sort of glance. “Okay?” 

You nod slightly, and hum a sound of affirmation, before you let yourself suck, creating suction with your tongue. 

Jeongin instantly groans, his head falling back and his hands scrabbling to tangle in your hair. 

Chan takes that as his cue to move again as well, and he resumes his thrusting from before, his hips moving more rhythmically now. 

You feel Jeongin hit the back of your throat, and oh god, he tastes just like he smells, and fuck, with Chan moving like that-

You can feel the muscles in your body tensing, readying for release, as you keep working Jeongin with your mouth and Chan shunts your body over and over with his. 

“Fuck, noona, I-” Jeongin starts to say, and then he’s shuddering, and you feel him release, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. 

“Fuck.” Chan swears, watching Jeongin come for you, and then he leans forward, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he rests his forehead on your chest, fingers digging into your wrists, and roars through his own release. 

Everything whites out for a moment as your own body uncoils, and you have to remind yourself to breathe, as Jeongin slowly pulls himself from your mouth and Chan lies on top of you, catching his breath. 

“Fuck.” Jeongin repeats, staring down at you, his eyes full of awe. “Fuck.” 

You give a weak little laugh and reach out to brush Chan’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. He glances up at you, his chin on your chest, and releases his hold on your wrists, one of his hands moving to your jaw and pinching your mouth open so he can look inside. 

A small smirk quirks the corner of his mouth as he says hoarsely, “A shame to waste all that perfectly good come on your mouth, baby.” You grin down at him, wincing slightly as he pulls himself out of you with a long, low groan. 

He flops down beside you on the bed, covering his face with his arm as his chest still heaves. 

On your other side, Jeongin collapses down as well, his hand finding yours, even though his eyes are closed. 

After a few moments of silence, Chan pushes himself up with effort, and scoots to the edge of the bed. He waves a finger between you and Jeongin’s prone forms. 

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” 

You give a sound of assent, but don’t open your eyes. 

Soon though, you hear the sound of his footsteps padding back, and he nudges you with his hand. 

“Drink this, baby.” You crack open your eyes, and take the bottle of water he offers you, passing the other one to Jeongin, who guzzles it down immediately. 

Chan slides back onto the bed between your legs, and begins to wipe down the sticky skin of the inside of your thighs with the warm rag, cleaning up all the residual juices that were left behind. 

You relax into his gentle motions, and when he’s finished, he turns to Jeongin, arching a brow at the younger boy. 

“Can I?” He asks, and Jeongin hesitates, before he nods slightly, spreading his legs for Chan to clean him up as well. 

You watch them-how gentle Chan is, how trusting Jeongin is-and you feel warm from head to toe. 

Warm and content. 

When he’s finished with Jeongin, you finally sit up and reach for the rag, motioning for Chan to lay back on the bed. 

“Okay, now you.” 

He opens his mouth, as if to protest, but Jeongin pushes him down gently with a hand to his chest and a small smile. 

“C’mon, hyung. It’s only fair.” 

Chan rolls his eyes, but lets you wash him over with the warm rag anyway, and you can tell, by the slight hint of pink on his cheeks, that he enjoys the tender touches just as much as you do. 

When everyone is cleaned up, you motion for Jeongin to snuggle down between the two of you, your arm looped comfortably across him, your fingers making nonsensical patterns on the warm, bare skin of Chan’s chest. 

Leaning over to press a kiss to the tip of Jeongin’s nose, you say softly, “I love you.” Jeongin glances up at you with large eyes, and his lips curve into a smile. 

“I love you too, noona. And you, hyung.” 

You grin and press another kiss to the top of his soft, red hair, before he glance across to Chan, who is watching you affectionately, a small smile on his lips. 

He arches a brow at you and whispers over the top of Jeongin’s head, “I’m proud of you. You’re getting better.” 

You grin back at him, and reach up with your free hand to cup his jaw, before you squish Jeongin between you as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you, Bang Chan.” 

He tugs you forward for another kiss, and Jeongin whines slightly at being squished. 

“I love you too.” ********************************

“So, I’m guessing the two of you made up?” Changbin remarks offhandedly, leaning against the desk as he eyes you with an arch of his brow and a smirk on his lips. 

You give a little shrug, sifting through Chan’s papers to find the one you’re looking for. “I guess. How can you tell?” You stop, glancing back at him with a narrowing of your eyes. 

Changbin grins, his eyes dropping pointedly to the large black hoodie you wear. “That’s his favorite hoodie.” 

You hold out the heavy fabric so you can see the Nirvana logo printed across the front of it, staring at it skeptically. “Really? This old thing? I just stole this the last time we went over to his dorm after hide and seek.” 

Changbin laughs and shakes his head, leaning around you now to pluck up a piece of paper and present it to you. 

It’s the one you’ve been looking for. 

You snatch it from him with a teasing glare. 

“Really.” He nods, tugging at the hood of the hoodie teasingly. “This fucking thing is his favorite fucking thing on the whole planet, so the fact that he let you take it and wear it-” He shakes his head in slight disbelief, and smirks down at you. “-well maybe that just means that he has a new favorite fucking thing on the whole planet.” 

You grin at that. 

“I kind of like the sound of that.” Changbin grins back and tackles you onto the futon in the corner of the studio, tickling you as you shriek and struggle to get away from him.

“I knew you would.” 

[blueiscoool]

A Pot With Gold Coins Discovered in Ancient Greek City in Turkey

Archaeologists have discovered a pot of buried treasure overflowing with ancient Greek coins in Turkey.

The gold coins were found inside a room beneath a home in Notion, an ancient Greek city in western Turkey. They feature the figure of a kneeling archer, a design element used for the Persian daric, a gold coin issued by the Persian Empire. The currency was likely minted in Sardis, located 60 miles (97 kilometers) northeast of Notion, according to a statement from the University of Michigan.

Researchers think the mercenaries used the hoard as payment, but it's unclear why they buried it.

"The discovery of such a valuable find in a controlled archaeological excavation is very rare," Christopher Ratté, a professor of ancient Mediterranean art and archaeology at the University of Michigan and director of the Notion Archaeological Survey, the project that led to the discovery the coins, said in the statement. "No one ever buries a hoard of coins, especially precious metal coins, without intending to retrieve it. So only the gravest misfortune can explain the preservation of such a treasure."

A few stylistic clues indicate that the coins were struck sometime during the fifth century B.C. — a time stamp archaeologists are using to help uncover the sequence of events that led to the treasure's burial.

"This hoard will provide a firm date that can serve as an anchor to help fix the chronology of the (entire sequence of coins)," Ratté said. "According to the Greek historian Xenophon, a single daric was equivalent to a soldier's pay for one month."

In the past few years, the site has been a hotbed for artifact finds, including pottery fragments, also from the fifth century B.C., hidden "in earlier walls incorporated into the foundations of the house," which dates to the Hellenistic period, according to the statement.

The Hellenistic period occurred after the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C. and lasted until the conquest of the final Hellenistic kingdom by Rome in 31 B.C. During the sixth century B.C., Notion was incorporated into the Persian Empire along with other Greek cities. In the early fifth century B.C., it was freed from Persian rule for a time, only to be reintegrated into the empire during the fourth century B.C., according to the statement.

Between 430 and 427 B.C., a group of Persian sympathizers, as well as Greek and "barbarian" mercenaries, occupied Notion. During that time, the Athenian general Paches killed pro-Persian mercenaries, prompting Persian sympathizers to be expelled from the city as the Athenians took control, according to the statement.

Ratté said that these events could have led to the burial and eventual loss of the hoard.

By Jennifer Nalewicki.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. very self ship coded. fluffy, a little hurt comfort-y. cw for light misogyny from higher ups. wc 1.5k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune like usual

“Anything in those bags for me?”

You snort, bare feet padding across the shiny wooden floors of Satoru’s apartment that is also technically your apartment despite the fact you keep your apartment across town in case he’s really on your nerves, dropping them on the floor in front of you. He looks over the edge of the sofa, one arm slung over the back carelessly, and you can’t help but smile at him looking so relaxed despite the fact you lack the same ease.

“Nah, these are for me,” you retort, not mentioning the small box with the delicately wrapped lingerie at the bottom of the largest bag. He’ll have to wait until later to find out about that one. You leave the bags behind and walk toward the couch, leaning over the edge to give him a kiss.

“What’s the occasion then?”

Reaching down to wipe your gloss from his bottom lip, he nips at the tip of your thumb and you smile. He’s good at disarming you, something both of you have learned over the years spent side by side, and you climb over the edge of the couch and plop down on top of him.

“Higher ups.”

He hums, the sound laced with disbelief.

“I don’t think you’ve ever broken a rule in your life. What do they want?”

Giggling, you roll your eyes. Sometimes he behaves as if he forgets you’re milder now than you used to be, the fury of your youth something that became unimportant entering into your twenties.

“You know very well I’ve broken many rules in my life, especially theirs.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Sighing, you snuggle into his chest and press your cheek to the area right above his heart, the steady beating comforting your anxious nature. He wraps one arm around your back and traces lazy circles over the back of your arm.

“They think I’ve given my students too much freedom, Maki especially. It’s a scolding.”

Admitting your anger aloud would feel like a loss so you simply sigh, pressing your face against Satoru’s chest and closing your eyes. He continues rubbing circles into your skin, watching the tension slowly melt out of your limbs, but now he is wound up.

How dare they question your methods? None of them have any clue what it’s like to be in the role the two of you both are, strength removed from the equation, and it feels like yet another overreach of their power.

“They’ve been on my ass for months, this is just the latest thing they’re mad about.”

Satoru scoffs, shifting and sitting up. He pulls you with him, keeping you pressed to his torso while getting comfortable. His face gives away every ounce of his concern, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean months? How often have you been seeing them?”

Your face doesn’t hide your surprise that he has somehow missed out on the last five times you’ve been summoned to address what would otherwise be very routine issues to be handled between yourself and your immediate supervisor Yaga.

“This is like the sixth time they’ve asked me in to talk…” you trail off and he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“There’s more you want to say.”

You nod and half shrug.

“Feels kind of pointless to say it though.”

He pinches your cheek and you smile, trying to shake him off of you but giving up and after a moment, giving in.

“They’re mad at me because we’re together. This is a punishment for distracting you and everyone else I’ve mentioned the situation to agrees with me.”

Despite being a tiny bit annoyed you’ve seemed to discuss these meetings with everyone but him, he understands. The mythical heads of the sorcerer community have always tried to keep his leash just loose enough to let him roam but tight enough to keep him controlled and now that is extending to you in the form of bureaucracy and bullshit.

Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo clan and the strongest sorcerer, won’t allow it.

“What have the other meetings been about?”

A serious Satoru is a beautiful and terrifying sight, his jaw ticking and his face set in a hard glare. It isn’t often he gets this fired up and you’ve intentionally kept the situation quiet to avoid giving him something else to worry about. Selfishly, it makes your heart beat faster knowing that he’s so willing to jump to your defense.

“First one was about my technique and the logs I’ve been keeping of exorcisms performed in my domain, three of them were about my students, the most recent one was about, well, you.”

He frowns and you know he’s asking you to elaborate although you’re embarrassed to even be discussing the most recent meeting. You cried the moment you left the meeting, tucking into a corner long enough to compose yourself to keep Nitta from worrying about you the drive back to the campus.

“They reminded me we aren’t allowed to go on missions together.”

A humorless chuckle is all he can manage. The gall of these people shouldn’t surprise him the way that it does after all these years yet they still manage to pull one over every now and then.

“What exactly was said?”

He sees the shift in your face and knows immediately their words must have been full of bluster and cruelty disguised as tradition. Of course they aimed them at his partner, his girlfriend, rather than the man they have so many issues with. Satoru softens, pulling your head toward his lips and pressing them against your forehead.

“They said they won’t pay for us to go on “little lover’s vacations” just because we are unprofessional.”

The mocking serious tone you use to mimic these powerful men makes him laugh and he kisses your forehead again. He knows you well enough to know that you are still holding back everything that was said to you but he understands why.

“Well, fuck them.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you lean into Satoru’s big body with a contented sigh.

“We’ll see how tomorrow goes. Maybe I’ll tell them just that.”

You both know that you would never but he laughs at you anyway.

“If you don’t I will.”

You were happy to let the conversation die there, instead mentioning that there may be one thing in your shopping bags for your spoiled boyfriend. It served as distraction enough that you didn’t have to discuss the heavy stuff and the evening was spent focusing on more pressing matters.

This morning, though, Satoru isn’t willing to focus on other matters.

Riding the elevator to the bottom floor where these meetings take place, you straighten out your new blouse and ensure your skirt is acceptably pressed above the knee. Anxiety runs wild through your body but you breathe through it, sweaty palms clutching the handle of your purse.

The elevator doors slide open and you step out, jumping and shrieking in terror at the sight of a blindfolded Gojo standing in front of you.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?”

He grins and you swear it lights up the dim surroundings.

“I’m not going to let them treat you that way.”

The support means the world but the notion of him saving you makes you uncomfortable, shifting your weight from foot to foot where you stand.

“You don’t have to stand up for me, Satoru…”

He shakes his head and puts one hand on your shoulder, burying the other in his pocket nonchalantly.

“Oh I’m only going to be supporting you from the outside. I know you’re more than capable of telling them to stick their old man opinions up their asses, isn’t that what got you in trouble your third year?”

Smiling at the memory, you nod. That was indeed what got seventeen year old you in enough trouble you were off missions and in detention for a month.

Yaga let you watch TV and tap away on your handheld game device the entire time in lieu of actual punishment.

Satoru’s grin softens into something sweeter and just for you.

“Don’t forget who you are. You aren’t just my girlfriend.”

His emphasis and both just and my make you laugh but you quickly compose yourself, straightening your shoulders and spine and letting Satoru pluck a bit of lint off of your top. He claps your shoulder and shakes you just enough that you strangely feel steadier, ready to face whatever opposition lies down the flight of stairs a few feet away.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

He shrugs.

“I’m just looking forward to listening to someone else handling you while you’re mad.”

Another nod is exchanged between the two of you and he squeezes your shoulder one last time before turning you in the direction of the staircase. He pats your ass once and you slap at his hand but confidence is all you feel heading down lower.

Gojo has never been more certain he picked the right one in his life.