#THIS DEBATE GOES BACK FURTHER THAN ANY OF YOU KNOW

[jackie-shitposts]

Glad to know that Tumblr has my back, even when Discord didnt all those months ago

They couldnt see it then, but here on tumblr we know the truth. She has ass. Thank you and good night

[mggslover]

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

[shigarosie]

Match His Energy part three

Kirishima's phone has been ringing nonstop for the past ten minutes.

Finally, after trying to just ignore it and hope the problem goes away, Bakugo throws down his book onto the sofa and heads into the kitchen, bitching about his best friend leaving it behind before meeting up with Tetsutetsu and-

If course it was you who was calling.

He stared at the caller id, debating if he should just let it ring. Eventually you would get the hint, right? But then again, if it was some sort of emergency...

He grabs the phone and swipes to answer, unable to even get out a "what" before you hiccup a sob in his ear.

"I fucking hate men they're so stupid," you cry angrily. "I didn't ask this prick to buy me coffees and shit, but I go out with him to be nice and somehow I owe him an invite back to my place?"

Bakugo's jaw clenches. He doesn't fuck with douchebags like that, who think they're entitled to someone's body.

"And now he's telling people at work that I've been talking about them behind their backs? Like what the fuck?!"

You start sobbing again, more from rage than sadness.

"I'm coming over." He hangs up the phone before you can even process that it wasn't Kirishima you were talking to.

Bakugo didn't really know why he was coming over. He could always text Tetsutetsu and tell him that you need Kirishima to come over for some best friend emergency bullshit. But his feet moved on their own and he was grabbing stuff from the fridge and shoving his feet haphazardly into his shoes before he was out the door and in his car.

You were still crying when you opened the door, but you were definitely confused to see Bakugo outside your apartment.

"What-"

"Kirishima left his phone at home," he says. "You sounded like you were going through some rough shit."

You stare at him, blinking tears away best you could, but a few managed to escape and were making a break for it down your flushed cheeks.

He holds up a tinfoil covered pan. "I brought brownies. Made them last night."

At that, you were letting him in.

He sets the pan on your counter and shoos you off to go sit on your couch, going through your cupboards and your fridge.

You feel awkward, even though you're in your apartment. "I didn't know it was-"

"I know."

He's good at that; shutting you down. For once you're grateful for it.

When he finally leaves the kitchen he has two plates in hand, each with a turtle brownie covered in ice cream and chocolate sauce he sourced from you.

"Comfort food," he grunts, holding one out to you. "Eat."

You don't have to be told twice, you lip beginning to quiver again.

"Report that asshole to hr," he says. "Record any further interactions you have with him. I know a good lawyer if the harassment continues."

You start crying again. Bakugo's eyes go wide- did he say something wrong? He was actually trying to be helpful for once.

"Thank you." Your voice sounds squeezed, like you would say more if you could but the shakiness of of your breathing made it hard. "You know, I wouldn't have expected this from you. You like to pretend like you hate me."

"Who's pretending?" He asks, obviously joking despite his serious tone. "Just needed the phone to stop ringing."

"Well maybe if Kiri didn't leave his phone lying around everywhere-"

"How does he fucking do that? Every morning he leaves for work and then walks back in a minute later. Every morning."

"Clearly he's unreliable," you say, scooping up a pool of chocolate sauce on your spoon. "I'm starting to think I should just call you next time, but I don't have your number. You know, since you hate me and all."

"Yeah, I- um. That would. Shit. Fuck."

"Or I can just keep calling Kiri and hope you pick up?"

His face is pink. It's the first time you've smiled all day.

"Whatever. I guess that's fine."

[bandgie]

I had an idea but idk if you'd be comfortable with it so feel free to ignore it

I thought of minho and hyunjin for it. minho knowing hyunjin has a crush on someone. minho knows her but hyunjin doesn't. to tease him, minho takes the girl out on a friendly date and takes pics to show hyunjin. he gets jealous but that pushes him to talk to the girl and after meeting up a few times, they fuck. as revenge, hyunjin takes a picture or video or whatever to send to minho

I like loser to cocky hyunjin 😶

2k words

warnings! MDNI 18+, blowjob, throat fucking (light), cum swallowing, recording during oral

"Hyung, can you not send me things like that?"

"Like what?" But Minho already knows. He has a sly grin that makes his top two teeth slightly poke out. The smile only widens when Hyunjin groans, digging his phone from his pocket and unlocking it.

It only takes a few clicks before Hyunjin shows Minho the message. A sent picture of you holding up ice cream, smiling, and throwing up a peace sign.

"Ohhh," Minho pretends to finally understand. "Did you know she loves strawberry ice cream?"

"Minho!" Hyunjin jumps at the sound of his voice. "You know how I feel. It doesn't make me feel any better." He shoves his phone back into his pocket, folding his arms. "You're being a mean hyung to me."

"Mean? It's not my fault you're not doing anything. I'm just trying to give you a little encouragement." And although that's somewhat true, Minho can't lie that he finds joy in Hyunjin's scowl. 

Hyunjin shakes his head. "Well, stop it. It's not working."

But Minho doesn't. Every few days, Hyunjin gets an image of you with Minho. It ranges from going out for lunch to volunteering at animal shelters. Minho is in the same major as you and Hyunjin only came across you once. That's all it took for him to develop an innocent crush; one that Minho is seemingly keen on ruining.

Message after message, days upon days that leave Hyunjin feeling a mix of emotions. He's at the university library, staring at his phone and debating on blocking Minho's number until a glimpse of your figure catches his attention. 

It shouldn't be a surprise to see you, you all go to the same college, but it's rare for Hyunjin to come across anyone he knows due to his schedule. For a minute, he just watches. He observes the way you survey the room to look for a spot, and steps slowly to get a good look. He watches as your eyes lock with his, smiling and giving a small wave. You quicken your steps in his direction-

Holy shit. Are you going to sit next to him? Hyunjin hurriedly collects his scattered papers to make some room, not bothering to lock his phone that he hastily sets on the table. Your steps get closer, his heart beats faster. He's managed to make a small, messy pile when you stop just a few inches shy away from him. 

"It's Hyunjin, right?" Gosh, even the way you say his name makes his stomach dip.

Hyunjin nods, eyes shifting from his paper to your face. "Yeah."

"Okay good!" You happily set your backpack on the table and choose the seat right next to him. "I wasn't sure. I just seen you and thought you looked familiar. You're Minho's friend, no?"

This is the closest Hyunjin's ever been with you. He can smell your perfume, the lip balm that makes your mouth shine, and your cheery expression as you speak. How is Minho even friends with someone so happy?

Probably to make Hyunjin's life difficult. But there isn't an opportunity to answer as Hyunjin's phone goes off. Still unlocked, both of you stare at the message. 

From: Asshole [image sent] got to try out the new cafe with your favorite person the other day lol

Hyunjin reaches for the phone, but the damage is already done. You're quicker than him, snatching it off the table and scrolling further into the messages. Some casual conversations, lots of cussing, but mostly you. Just photos of you with captions ranging from what you did with Minho to Hyunjin asking- no begging - for Minho to stop. 

"What the hell?" You mumble to yourself just as Hyunjin successfully pries his phone from your grasp. He's sweating, you notice. Chest expanding rapidly and hands shaking. "Why is Minho sending pictures of me to you like that?"

He just shakes his head, unable to answer from embarrassment or shock, you're not sure. His dark hair sweeps over his face and he hurriedly packs his things. "I need to go." His voice is just as shaky as his hands. 

You grab a hold of his bag, preventing him from leaving. "You're not going anywhere." You yank on the material and he whines. "Hyunjin." He whines again at the sound of his name, but he remains standing and pulling against your grasp.

"Hyunjin. Sit. Down."

His legs turn to jelly, a final whimper escaping his throat as he plops back in his seat. You let a sigh, rubbing your temples in a way that makes Hyunjin gulp.

"Sorry, I...I didn't mean to say it like that." You take a deep breath. "I just don't understand why Min is sending you pictures of me. It comes off a little...weird. You know?"

Weird? Oh, he's so fucked. You're keeping a neutral expression, but Hyunjin isn't sure how much longer that'll last. If he tells you the truth, you might be disgusted. You both hardly know each other, how can he harbor even just some feelings for you? This is Minho's fault. It's only fair that he gets the full blame. 

"Yeah, no I get it," Hyunjin nods. "He just..." Fuck, what is he supposed to say?

You give him a few seconds before you prompt him again, "He just what?" You're being so patient. So understanding that you're still here letting Hyunjin save his ass. You should have called him a perv by now, slapping him across the face. But you didn't.

"He's just a dick." Fuck it. "I've already asked him to stop, but he just likes to torture me." You raise a curious eyebrow, but Hyunjin continues. "It was one time. I said that I think you're pretty just one time and he makes it his fucking mission to make sure he sees how much fun he's having with you."

That's not what you were expecting, but Hyunjin is far from done. "I would love to get to know you, to talk to you, but I'm such a pussy. That dick rubs it in my face how often you two hang out. Like, that's cool and all, but I want to rip my hair out." Hyunjin gets more confident as he talks, most likely getting riled up from talking about Minho, but you hardly mind.

"So, yes, it's weird. I know. But it's not my fault!" Hyunjin quickly scans the near-empty library at the raising of his voice. "Minho just keeps sending me you 'cuz he likes to tease me. That's all."

He stares at you and you stare back. A few seconds pass with quiet blinking before you realize you should say something.

"Oh."

Hyunjin groans, burying his beautiful face in his hands. You stare at his ashamed state, both pathetic and endearing. Truly, this isn't a big deal, but his dramatic reactions bring a small smile amidst the anxious atmosphere.

"So you think I'm pretty?" Hyunjin lets out a scoff, shaking his head at your question. "Is that really all you got from that?"

You shrug, but the smile on your lips still lingers. "Maybe. But that does sound annoying. I'm sure you get tired of looking at my pretty face all the time." Hyunjin laughs, finally picking his head up to look at you. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes like moon crescents. He gleams in the artificial lighting and it casts beautiful shadows on his features.

"Have you ever thought about getting back at Minho?"

Hyunjin stops his cheery laughter, eyes growing curious. He pinches his eyebrows together in thought, "I mean, does blocking count? Cuz if so, then yes."

You shake your head, lower lip caught between your teeth as a mischievous thought comes to mind. "I was thinking something a little more."

-

It's hard for Hyunjin to angle the camera at you. His hands keep shaking, the phone threatening to fall from his grasp right on your face. You're looking up at the lens from your knees, mouth full of cock. Your knees slightly ache from the bathroom tile floor, but you pay no mind. The main center of focus is quietly gagging on Hyunjin's length. That women's bathroom may be empty, but the sound of wet pops and smack echoes in the room rather embarrassingly. 

With a hard suck, you pull away from his cock. Hyunjin lets out a whine, hips shaking as you replace your mouth with your hand. 

"Are you getting my good angles?" You can't help but tease with swollen lips. Even in a messy state, he nods. You can't see his face, but you can see the black, tangled hair that moves. 

"Pretty," he chokes out as you pump him. " So so so pretty."

You flash your teeth at the camera, "Aw! Thanks. Do you think Minho will think so too?"

"Ye- Mmf!" He cuts himself off by pinching his lips. You've wrapped your lips around his girth again, sucking the tip while you stroke his shaft. He whines and whines, unable to stay quiet while staring at you through the phone. 

The video is wobbly but if he slows the footage down, he might be able to screenshot a few good frames. There's just something surreal about indirectly looking at your mouth take him inch by inch. It's like you're his personal pornstar, though he's keen on making sure little no one gets to see how good you look.

You relax the back of your throat, slowly pushing him deeper until his pubes barely tickle your nose. A soft gag comes from you, but you're determined on deep-throating him at least once. Hyunjin uses his free hand to brush a few strands from your face, coaxing you. You hum in appreciation and fit the last few bits.

Hyunjin's tip presses deep against the deepest part of you, pulsing from your tight throat. You can tell he's trying not to move, to fuck into your hot mouth to not overstimulate you. 

But he wants to. He can taste the orgasm on his tongue. So close, so warm, but you look so good with wide eyes. Tears brimming your lashes as you hollow your cheeks. 

Hyunjin moans, a long, drawled-out sound that makes him throw his head back. "Fuck. You're gonna make me cum." 

It's too difficult to speak, so you gently rock against his hips instead. As much as you would love for Hyunjin to bruise your mouth, this isn't the time. Right now, putting on a good show for the camera is your priority. To make sure you suck dick so good that Minho never bothers Hyunjin again with pictures.

His tip repeatedly hits the back of your throat, a little salty from the oozing precum. With one of your hands, you massage his balls. Hyunjin mewls at the sensation, toes curling in his shoes. His breath turns jagged, and now he can't help himself. His gentle hand turns rough as he reaches the back of your head. He makes a tight fist with your hair and drives his cock deep.

You gag, the tears finally falling from the relentless pace Hyunjin's set. He's already so close, you might as well let him use you.

"Look into the camera." Hyunjin's voice is rasp. While you were trying not to choke, your eyes were unfocused. Now you're trying desperately to look into the phone, mostly likely going cross-eyed from the force his his thrusts. 

His cock twitches in your mouth and you brace for the spurts of cum. Even as your prepare, you can't help the gurgled squeak you make on Hyunjin's cock at the salty release. He shoots his hot load down your throat, and all you can taste and feel is cum. Your hand tightens around his sack and they tense in your hold. 

He's moaning, panting like a dog behind the phone. Hyunjin gives a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling out, cum dribbling from the corner of your mouth. 

You groan as your throat empties, using your tongue to wipe the semen as Hyunjin's cock slowly goes down. Once the cum has collected, you flatten your tongue to give a good look to the camera before tucking your tongue in your mouth, swallowing.

"And, scene!"

note! I am in a but of a rut, but hopefully this'll help me get back on game!

[hisphoria]

high society, lhs

chapter 01, debut

synopsis: lee heeseung must find someone that will be willing to marry him just for the title. someone to marry him so that his grandmother can finally stop bothering him. while this isn't a hard thing for heeseung to do since almost every noble girl of the ton would be willing to marry him, he needs someone who has no interest in him. someone who will not bother him if he doesn't even speak to them as long as they aren't at some social event. and of course, he found that in you.

featuring: lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, park jongseong, park sunghoon, kim sunoo, nishimura riki, yang jungwon

genre: non-idol au, arranged marriage trope, enha as royals, victorian era?

content and warnings: cursing, drinking, sexual humor, some toxic mentality (considering the era i'm basing this on), and lotsss of angst

word count: 4193 words

taglist: @sumzysworld @tokkisann @sol3chu @yunjinhuhjennifer @capri-cuntz (still open! comment below if you want to be added)

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you hated it.

hated everything about all of these things that your parents were making you do. having to wear this and that, go to this event, and talk to these people it was just getting to be a bit much for you. nothing was entertaining or fun about having to approach old rich men at the balls and acting interested in their boring lives. you also knew just talking to them boosted their egos and they didn't need any of that.

"but mother i'm already engaged to nikolaos. the rest of the ton already knows this as well. i can't just be going around flirting with other men anymore." you pouted as your mother stood behind you tightening your corset and fitting your new dress for an upcoming ball that your estate was hosting.

your mother simply rolled her eyes as she tightened the corset even tighter making you suck in a breath. "i know you are but that does not mean you shouldn't try for better. maybe an even richer man will find interest in you." you debated on whether or not to continue arguing with her. you knew it was pointless but you still thought maybe if you said it enough, she would calm down a little. you were fully devoted to the idea of marrying nikolaus and to you nothing and no one else could change your mind about it. marrying him was something you had dreamt about since the age of ten.

your parents didn't understand this though. your father did a little more than your mother but he just goes along with everything your mother says so it was never up for debate. it wasn't that your mother wasn't letting you marry nikolaos, she was just holding on till the very last minute to see if you will change your mind and marry someone else. nikolaos isn't even unsuccessful, his family being of the high society just like yourself but to your mother is wasn't enough. she wanted someone for you that was in the highest society. preferably in the top ten richest and well known men that appear in the newspapers.

"i want you to be happy" your mother began as she started fluffing out your hair with some oils that she had put onto her hands, "i am not telling you to not marry for love but it is only a plus if you marry for love and money."

you sighed as you looked into the mirror in front of you. the fact that she made some sense to you was something you did not want to admit. obviously money and status was always a plus and you didn't agree with her because it was something you yourself sought out but you did understand why she pushed the idea so much. "right. i understand you mother" you said to her as you stood up from the chair and looked back at her, "but i am indeed happy being engaged to nikolaos. i have loved him for so long and he is a successful man. i will be fine with him."

your mother simply nodded, deciding not to push the subject any further for the day. she gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving your bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

you leaned against the railing at the top of the foyer looking over the crowd of people down below. it was the day of the ball and you had waited about 40 minutes after everyone arrived to make your entrance. the later you arrived, the less time you would have to interact with the ton and that sounded perfect to you. brushing down your baby blue ball gown, you made your way over to the staircase. you took a deep breath before resting your hand on the railing and slowly making your way down.

don't close your eyes you thought to yourself as you made your way down. it was always so nerve racking. all eyes turning towards you and looking you up and down. hearing the whispers just made it all worse.

that's when you saw nikolaos standing by a tall round table that was surrounded by other noble men. his head immediately turned towards you with a smile and he made his way over to you to meet you at the bottom of the staircase. you felt your heart slightly jump at the action but you weren't sure if that was the nerves because everyone was watching or if it really just melted your heart seeing him.

nikolaos reached his hand out for you to grab before bowing slightly before you, "good evening y/n" he whispered out to you. you smiled at him as you took his hand and touched the floor with your feet. you grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand and leaned into his ear and whispered, "i was too afraid to come out here if you weren't here."

"your mother kept me occupied for awhile..." he sighed as he turned and looked over to see where your mother and father stood attending to the guests who walked through the door. "she probably thought you were here wandering around already and didn't want me to take you away from your socializing." you frowned at this, slightly bowing your head and shaking it.

"i'm so sorry nikolaos" you said as you looked up at him, "you know how she is." he nodded and smiled at you reassuringly, "i know i know. i'm not offended don't worry. maybe you should go and get to know more people?" he said as he directed his attention back over to the crowd. the highest nobles were all gathered at the front greeting my parents. your mother and fathers faces beaming at them, you could've sworn you saw dollar signs in their eyes.

that's when he appeared.

"is that... lee heeseung?" you breathed out as you peered over nikolaos' shoulder to see lee heeseung enter, approaching your parents with a polite smile and bow. he was a well known noble. the highest of all the nobles. he was probably at the very very top of the pyramid in the high society. you heard that his parents were practically nonexistent, leaving the entire estate and title to their one and only son. he only had his grandmother and staff living in the mansion with him. you had only seen him maybe two or three other times as he didn't appear at every social event so him showing up at your estate... it was shocking.

not only was heeseung a high noble but he was also definitely the most handsome noble. his silver hair was styled but you loved that he never slicked it back, it looked natural and some pieces of his hair fell perfectly over his beautiful face. silver couldn't be his natural hair color you had thought to yourself, his dark roots showing under the silver. he would probably look perfect in any hair color.

"you should probably go greet him, no? not saying hi to the duke when he attends your ball is surely a crime" nikolaos let out a small laugh. you cleared your throat and nodded, letting go of his hand and placing your hands in front of you. "i hate to admit that you are right. i must go" you bowed slightly before making your way over to where your parents stood at the entrance.

"oh! my dear daughter!" your mother exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically as you arrived beside them. heeseung stood in front of them with both of his hands behind his back. he wore a white button up shirt tucked into some black pants with a dark blue jacket over, the collar gold and decorated with different lines and swirls. he looked like a prince.

heeseung eyed you up and down before bowing before you, "good evening lady y/n. i was just thanking your parents for inviting me to such a well organized and beautifully decorated event here at your estate." he brought his head back up and looked at you with a straight face, not even a slight smile had appeared on his face yet his voice sounded like he meant the compliment.

you bowed back to him, "it is an honor to welcome you to my parents estate my grace. we very much hope that you will enjoy it." you smiled at him as you came back up, placing your hands before you as they had before. heeseung simply nodded at you, the two of you looking at each other in silence for a few seconds before your fathers voice interrupted.

"your grace, we have heard about your engagement to the lady cadence laselle. congratulations" your father said as he put a hand over his heart. heeseung breathed in at your fathers words. he looked to the side and then back to your father again, "it seems that is all everyone is talking about, no? a vow between two families many years ago does not just mean i will easily take her as my wife. although..." he said as he then shifted his eyes over to you, "i have heard your daughter is actually to be engaged to nikolaos."

your mother frowned a bit at hearing his words. you already knew she was disappointed that you weren't marrying someone with a higher title and hearing it from the duke just probably made it worse for her. if even the duke knows, there's no going back is there?

you shifted your feet slightly and cleared your throat, "that is right, your grace. i am fortunate enough to not be in a situation like yours."

oh god.

maybe you shouldn't have said that.

your mother and father looked over at you with wide eyes. silence filling the circle. heeseung looked at you, seeming unmoved but then he cleared his throat and looked away. he scoffed and shook his head, a small smirk appearing on his face.

you put a hand over your mouth, "your grace, i am so sorry i didn't mean-"

heeseung put this hand up and nodded at you. "don't worry about it. i do appreciate some honesty every now and then especially since no one says those things to my face and instead behind my back." you weren't expecting him to be so understanding. you had heard only good things about the duke other than the fact that he was a womanizer but he was still a duke and the fact that you spoke to him that way was pretty unbecoming. you didn't know this man at all to be saying something so casual to him, you weren't so sure why or how you said something like that so easily.

"we apologize for her" my mother started, "i know it's no excuse but she has been pretty stressed out with the engagement and everything." she smiled at the duke.

heeseung looked as if he was about to open his mouth when a couple approached your parents and whisked them away before anything else could be said about you, leaving you and heeseung alone in each others presence.

heeseung looked at you before he took a few steps forward, getting closer to you. you felt your breathing stop as he got so close, close enough to where his scent filled your nostrils and he smelled amazing.

he leaned into you, his lips coming close to your ear and he whispered, "i don't appreciate a lady like you having an opinion on my personal matters. i'd be careful if i were you and watch what i say next time... especially to me."

your eyes widened as he leaned back and smiled. he took a bow before walking away from you and disappearing into the crowd of people. your face flushed and you quickly looked around to see if anyone caught sight of the interaction between you and the duke but it seemed that no one was looking and that made you let out a sigh of relief. you looked back to see if nikolaos was where you had left him but he was nowhere to be found.

heeseung wandered out into the courtyard. bringing a cigarette up to his lips, he heard footsteps come up behind him. turning his head, he saw his most trusted advisor, jake sim approaching him.

"i was wondering where you had wandered off to." jake said with a raise of his eyebrow, taking stand beside him. heeseung pulled the cigarette out from his mouth, letting out a puff of smoke. he clicked his tongue as he looked over at jake, "i would've thought you'd be off somewhere chatting it up with a lady."

jake let out a groan and threw his head back slightly, "as much as i would love to be doing that right now, i saw that little situation you had with lady y/n and when i saw that you took off, i thought it be best to come and find you. you disappeared pretty fast though, it took me a while."

"you saw that?" heeseung asked as he reached his cigarette out to jake to offer it to him. jake looked down at it and took it from heeseung, bringing it up to his lips. "i did, yes. i'm always keeping an eye out. although, it seems that even lady y/n was shocked at what had come out of her mouth" jake said with a laugh, "i've been hearing many things about her actually. she's the talk of the ton currently not falling far behind you."

heeseung rolled his eyes, "maybe they should be talking about her instead of me. she's the one who is actually getting married... not me."

"speaking of" jake said as he looked off to the side, drawing out a puff of smoke. "it's interesting really, her engagement to that man. they've known each other since they were children but lady y/n doesn't really seem to be the type to be able to marry a man like that."

heeseung scoffed, "what would you know? have you ever spoken to her?" a spike of curiosity rising in heeseung. he wasn't usually interested in the marriages and engagements going on in society but he himself was having a dilemma of being pushed to get married and even if he didn't want to, he needed to know what options were available to him or not.

"i hear around." jake says with a slight smile on his face, "i pay a lot of attention to gossip. i am your advisor, i need to know what's going on." he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked up at the night sky, "i've heard lady y/n is a pretty independent woman. it seems to get her into trouble a lot, an independent lady like her is not something that most men are looking for. her fiance was one of few willing to put up with that. she's been very open about not wanting to just idly stand by like a trophy for her husband."

heeseung raised an eyebrow at hearing this information, "like?"

jake smirked, "oh so you are curious?" heeseung rolled his eyes at jake and nudged his arm. "she tries her best to be helpful around her estate. she's always helping her father with things. she doesn't like just helping her mother plan out the balls, she's even gone on work trips with her father. she likes to be involved." jake continued to elaborate.

"i see..." heeseung hummed. he threw his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot. "does she seem like a romantic to you? do you think she seems like the type of woman to be in her husbands business?"

"what?" jake asked he shifted his body to heeseung so he was completely facing him now, "is she your type? you know she's engaged. you can't exactly just swoop up in there and propose to her-" heeseung put his finger up to jake's face to shush him, "i just need to see what the deal is. if she isn't in love, i've got a chance to offer her what nikolaos will not offer her in their marriage. she seems to be the only woman who would leave me be in a marriage."

"you dog" jake snarled at heeseung, "you just want someone who could care less about you then?"

heeseung smiled at jake as he patted his back, "exactly" he said to him before he walked off, heading back inside the mansion.

two weeks went by of you trying to plan your wedding with your mother and younger sisters. you had all sorts of ideas for the wedding but your mother wasn't exactly the easiest to plan with considering she kept on holding it off every chance she got.

the constant planning and meeting with nikolaos and his family was starting to open your eyes a little more to things that you hadn't even thought about before you got engaged. yes, nikolaos is the sweetest man you know but that doesn't mean there weren't a lot of things that the two of you didn't agree on. nikolaos was a traditional man and he didn't seem to be willing to give any of that up... even for you.

"i don't understand why you can't just let me be involved in some of the business stuff" you frowned at your fiance, "you won't even let me make any decisions? how is that fair if it's a family business!''

nikolaos let out a sigh as he turned to you, "exactly. my family business. you will be my wife, not my business partner. you are meant to stay at home and make decisions at home. not in matters of business. that's not how things work. you are needed at the estate. who will make the decisions at our home if you're not around?"

you felt as if you had been hit in the chest when he emphasized that it was his family business. you didn't think he meant to intentionally be mean by saying it but he said it and meant it. even though the two of you were to be married, he didn't yet see you as someone who was a part of his family. this only further made you feel as if you were an object of decoration for him.

the two of you were having this conversation as you went for a stroll at the public park, members from the both of your families following the two of you from not far behind. all you could think to yourself in that moment was that you needed to get away.

you tilted your head up as you stopped and looked over at nikolaos. "i can't continue with this conversation because i'm afraid that if we do, i will be pushing you into the river." nikolaos' eyes widened at your statement as he watched you continue to walk, "i need to be alone now."

you looked back at your mother and one of your younger sisters then glancing over at nikolaos' mother, "i will be heading off to walk on my own. i'll be in the area, i just need to be alone right now." before any of them could protest you quickly walked off, making your way over to the small bridge that went over the water a bit away. you didn't want to be anywhere near them either.

you leaned against the railing of the bridge, looking over and onto the water. the water was so clear you could see all of the fish swimming around in it. you soon started to feel tears start to prickle your eyes and to keep them from falling you tilted your head back and let out a deep breath.

"not sure if the lady y/n should be off on her own, don't you think?" you heard a somewhat familiar voice say off to the side of you.

you turned your head to see heeseung standing at the end of the bridge with his hands behind his back. he slowly began to approach you with a smirk on his face, finding his place to stand right next to you.

you cleared your throat and bowed slightly, "your grace."

heeseung let out a low laugh and when he did you honestly thought you've never heard anything more beautiful. "formalities? you surprise me. seems you still have manners."

you lowered your head, turning your body to completely face him. "your grace, i am so sorry about that night i really didn't mean to offend you. i just truly... wouldn't wish to be in your position."

heeseung glanced at you before then turning to look down at the water. he leaned against the railing, placing his arms over it so his hands were now dangling over. "aren't you kind of though?"

"excuse me?"

"this marriage, it's something you thought you've always wanted. yet now your feelings are changing about it. or am i wrong?"

you scoffed at the duke. he looked down at the water completely unphased and you hated his arrogance about it. how did he even know about your situation anyways? you thought to yourself.

"i know things" he smiled, "i am the duke, no? i've got my sources of information. plus your heated conversation with nikolaos wasn't exactly low profile like you thought it was. i've done my research. i know the kind of man he is and the kind of woman you are" he said before he looked at you, "you'll be miserable."

your face immediately heated up at his words and you mentally cursed at yourself for it. he knew everything and he spoke of you as if he knew you and something about it made your heart do a million flips. you should have been weirded out, maybe even a little terrified but how could you be when this gorgeous man stood in front of you saying exactly all of the things that you were thinking?

"what are you saying, your grace? i am engaged. this isn't something i can't exactly back out of and i can't seem to change my fiancé's opinion on the matter." you said to him, desperately wanting his eyes to meet yours once again.

heeseung leaned back, placing his hands behind his back once again. his eyes found yours and he took a few steps towards you, "anything is possible, no? i propose..." he started as he reached his hand out and grabbed your gloved hand, "that you come and marry me instead."

you gasped at the contact and although you didn't feel him with your bare skin it was still something and feeling his thumb caress your hand was making you feel all sorts of unbelievable things. you looked up at him with wide eyes, "m-marry you? what are you talking about? you're already engaged and... why me?!"

heeseung pulled his hand away from you, "don't get me wrong my lady, this is purely business. i need to get married because my grandmother keeps pestering me about it and it would be good for the estate and my image. falling in love is not something that interests me at the moment and well you... you want a marriage in which your husband will let you do as you please, no? let you involve yourself instead of keep you home to bear his children. letting you have decisions in regards to my business matters is something i am willing to do."

right, of course. the duke was known as a playboy. falling in love was of course something he didn't care about, a marriage simply for his public image where his wife could care less about what he does in his free time is the ideal arrangement for him. while that wasn't something you were looking for and if anything, you thought yourself to be somewhat a hopeless romantic, a marriage to the duke seemed a million times better than a one to nikolaos at the moment.

you don't even think you were thinking clearly in that moment because without thinking for more than a minute you quickly nodded your head at the duke.

"i'll do it. i'll marry you."

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - Headcanons -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

Dating since second year of highschool, the two of you shared your first kisses together in first year. The first time you saw him in the hospital with critical condition.

He's never made any moves to advance the relationship, despite having an obvious crush on you since you were ten.

he'd do the typical flirting that a middle school boy does. Teasing you, tripping you, stealing your pencil bag, the list goes on.

But he would become a mess when you would casually lean on him in conversation, his quirk going off at your closeness. Causing him to start yelling that a nerd shouldn't touch him, it'd infect him.

There was even a time where he helped you help after you tripped, you still held his hand when you were up right. The smile you gave him alone caused his hands to spark. Singeing yours slightly.

He somewhat vowed to himself after that, never wanting to touch you unless his quirk was perfected. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons to become number one hero.

while he did get a better handle of his quirk, he still struggled around you. Not at the small touches alone, but if you lingered in a hug for more than thirty seconds, he'd shove you away and hide the way his hands sparked.

The first kiss the two of you shared was under the strong drugs the hospital gave him, the quirk suppressing drugs. He leapt at the chance that he knew he couldn't hurt you.

He backed off a lot from that, avoiding it for almost a year, when he was suppressed again.

He knew that tactic wouldn't work for long, and you proved him right. Cornering him into a talk.

it was a long talk, he hated it every second. When you mentioned a relationship, he refused until you told him you'd move on. Not being able to stand the idea of you in a relationship with someone other than himself, he gave in.

Only the title between you changed though, in his defense he was busy and so were you. But honestly, he was avoiding the typical relationship. Knowing you'd want more. You gushed about it all of middle school after all, forcing him to watch a rom com every once in a while.

He hated that he couldn't do more. It tore him up inside. He tried any solution possible. Drying off his hands proved useless, sparking moments after. Washing his hands didn't work either, his quirk going off even under water.

He debated pills for a while, anything to turn his quirk off for just a second. Izuku convinced him out of that. He walked in Katsuki's room when he held the bottle of pills in his hand. Izuku instantly yelled at him, it could affect his entire career after all, and the drugs were in testing, who knew the long term side effects.

So he gave up.

The two of you started dating middle of second year, and he gave up towards the end. He resorted to anything possible to be near you but without touching.

You haven't complained about his distance, so he thought he was safe. That you'd be happy without all the touching you saw in a normal relationship.

Until he heard you talking with Mei. He was just stopping by your department so you could help him with his gear. But he heard Mei mention his name, clearly annoyed. You talked about how you thought he didn't like you anymore, at least in that way. Mentioning how he kept you five feet away at all times.

He didn't want to lose you, at least for something that was wrong.

Letting the two of you share small touches more often, slowly letting you in. He didn't let anyone touch him, so he hoped that this would help prove it.

Slowly, he opened up more. No one was allowed to touch his hair, or any part of his face really, but he lets you ruffle his hair with just a glare on his face.

When he doesn't like a touch, all he does is give a brief shake of his head and that's all you need to know to stop, an unspoken agreement that he couldn't be more thankful for.

His throat and mouth are a huge no for him, anywhere near his ability to breath and he hates it.

Sudden movements also freak him out, causing his to grip your hands. Majority of the time it doesn't spook him, just on the bad days. He's able to predict your movements any other time, so you could never catch him off guard.

He also lets you trace his hands. They're often smooth, slightly rough from hero work but in the morning they're soft as ever. So any time you want, he lets you trace his knuckles, stopping you after a few minutes. Too afraid that he'll blow your hands off.

He showed his love in his actions, not his touch.

When you moved in together, he let you chose your room. Let you decorate the apartment as well, anything to make you smile.

Cooking you dinner every night, making extra of any meal just for you.

He remembers every small thing about you, proving it every once in a while with a comment or gift.

Your favorite tv show from when your five? He comments about how he saw a ad on TV about it. Leaving you shocked that he remembered, you mentioned it once.

He also mocks you lovingly, obviously. Calling you stupid if you forgot to switch laundry. Repeating things you say with a high pitched voice, for no reason. It's annoying, but you can do it back with the return being a shove, or a long conversation where you both pretend to be the other, voices ridiculous.

Bickering doesn't end there, you guys constantly jab at each other.

Arguments don't happen for just the reason, it taking a casual turn rather than aggressive.

You two have had maybe a handful of arguments, only one of those turning into a fight. The both of you going at it about which All Might era was the best.

Another playful thing he does is bump shoulders with you anytime he passes by you.

Whenever he stands behind you, he puts his head on your shoulder. He regrets that now, because you started doing it back. Making him side step and include you in whatever he was doing before, not being able to handle your face so close to his.

He truly thought you were happy, not having heard a single complaint about anything since. He was proud of himself, glad he could make you happy.

Honestly, he wished he could touch you. Romantically, sexually, it didn't matter. He wanted any of it.

To be able to hug you for more than a minute, to let himself relax around you.

He craved it so badly, it ate him up inside.

But as long as you were his, just as much as he was yours, he'd be content. He loved you and you loved him. You stuck around. He wouldn't do anything to sacrifice it.

So he stuck to his rules, changing nothing on the way he acted, not wanting to push you away by doing too much.

Most of all, he was still too worried to hurt you.

He doesn't think he'll ever not be worried.

That was probably not even headcanons, likely a simplified version of the prologue. I might post another list about how he thinks during the story, but it would only be posted after I finish the story.

As always, lmk what you think <3

M.List in case you missed it at the top <3

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

[yearsbecomingcool]

where did the party go? | simon kalivoda

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | simon kalivoda x f!reader

synopsis | your best friend invites you to a party & simon teaches you how to take a shot.

warnings | underage drinking, driving after one shot, slight sexual references, innocent!reader, f!reader, possibly ooc!simon, reader is described as being shorter than simon.

word count | 2.8k

a/n | i am so awful at taking shots so reader is very me coded in this. i kept having thoughts of someone teaching met to take a shot like this and it felt kind of simon coded so that's where this came from. debating on writing for some of Fred's other character but haven't fully decided on who yet!! if y'all have any requests/suggestions my ask box is open!! also thank you to everyone for all the support on call me, beep me!! it means so much to get so much feedback :D

“Why the fuck is this impossible?!” You groan, throwing yet another dress to the floor, that’s the fourth one in the last twenty minutes. You’re standing in a pile of dresses and skirts you’ve all deemed too ugly to wear out tonight. Your friend, Aubrey, pokes her head into the closet and gives you a small smile. 

“You need some help babe?” She asks, pulling the door open a little bit further. She convinced you to finally try going out to a party with her.

She had sat down at lunch with a huge smile on her face, “Have I got a proposition for you!” Her tone worried you, she sounded a little too excited. 

You groan and look up from your shitty school lunch, “What is it this time?” 

“Don’t look so upset, I haven’t even told you yet! Anyway, Taylor Owens’ parents are gonna be out of town this weekend so she’s throwing a party tonight and don’t give me that look!” You’re glaring, you hate parties and Aubrey is well aware of that.

“Your little crush is gonna be there, he got off for the night to deal, he’ll definitely be making way more than whatever Grab & Bag pays him,” Aubrey explains, picking up a soggy fry from her tray. 

“Aubrey, I don't know. I’m really not a party person, you know that,” you sigh.

“You should go to just this one and if you hate it you never have to go to any ever again, pinky promise,” she smiles, holding her pinky out to you. 

You weigh your options, you hate crowds and all things loud, besides concerts for some reason…you’re not sure how to explain that but that's another problem for another time. But, if you go Simon will be there and you might finally be able to talk to him. You’ve been watching him from afar like a lovesick puppy for way too long now, if you don’t make a move tonight it’s possible that you never will. You sigh and wrap your pinky around hers in agreement. 

“Ohh hell yes, I’m coming to your place to help you pick what to wear. I love you too much to let you show up in a skirt that goes past your knees.”

“I hate everything I own right now,” you say bluntly, looking at Aubrey with a defeated look on your face. “Can’t I wear like, jeans or something?” 

“A skirt is easier to take off,” Aubrey jokes, laughing hard at the sight of your eyes widening at her words. “C’mon, give Simon something to look at that he hasn’t already seen. I know you’ve got something short and cute in there, let me look.” She pulls you out of your closet and you sit on your bed watching as she rummages through it. You sigh and lay back on the bed waiting for her to make her selections. 

“Ooh perfect!” Aubrey exclaims. Before you can even sit up you’re hit in the face with a dark purple babydoll dress you barely remember buying. 

“Um, ow?!” You pull the dress off your face and sit up glaring at her. You hold the dress up in front of you. It’s made of velvet and has white ruffles at the bottom and on the neckline.

“You’re gonna look hot in this. Very Courtney Love or Kat Bjelland.” 

You fold the dress over your arm and look up at her, “Fine…I’ll wear. You wanna find me some shoes?” Aubrey nods in response and goes back to your closet while you strip off and slip on the dress. It fits you perfectly, the hem reaching just above your fingertips. You grab a pair of tights from your drawer and slip them on as well. Aubrey lays out a pair of mary janes for you.

“I’m gonna run to my place and get ready, I’ll be back here at 8,” Aubrey says before heading out your door and leaving you alone to figure out your hair and makeup. You pull out a box of magazines from under your bed for some inspiration. You’re a fan of the messy grungey looks all your favorite artists wear. You finally land on a picture of Courtney Love that helps you make up your mind. You copy her dark red lipstick, smudged black liner, and add some mascara. You feel…hot. It’s a first for you to feel anything but fine. 

At 8pm on the dot you hear honking outside your house, you push the curtain out of the way and smile as you see Aubrey waiting outside in her beat up Honda. You head out the door, locking it behind you, and hop in the passenger seat. “You look fucking hot!” Aubrey exclaims, turning on the light in the car to get a better look at you.

You smile giddily, “Thanks…you do too. Anyone you have your eye on tonight?” 

She laughs, “Not unless Heather Watkins plans on breaking up with Ryan anytime soon.”

“We can only hope she’ll turn to her senses and give you a chance.”

“Damn right…Simon is gonna be all over you tonight y’know. I’ve seen Deena make him listen to Hole at lunch before, there’s no way that boy doesn’t have a crush on Courtney Love. You look like her but a million times hotter right now,” Aubrey says, clicking the car light back off and putting the car into drive. You fumble through the tapes in her glove compartment. You pull out a Bikini Kill tape and put it on. 

“How exactly am I supposed to talk to him?” You ask, turning to look at her as she starts the drive to Taylor’s house for the party.

“Well you open your mouth and-” Your groan cuts her off. She laughs at her own joke and rolls her eyes, “It’ll be much easier if you don’t stress over it. Just be yourself, he’ll like you.” You feel unsure, you don’t even know if he knows your name. You’ve been too shy to speak much to him. 

You’ve seen him at his work a few times and he’s always been friendly, but he’s paid for that so it doesn’t mean much in your eyes. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I’ve been pining over this guy for like two years now and he thinks I’m weird or embarrassing or-”

Aubrey rolls her eyes, “He’ll like you, trust me. Okay? And if he doesn’t you can get drunk and then we’ll go to Taco Bell and you can eat as many tacos as you want, okay?” 

“Fine…Taco Bell does sound kind of nice.” 

It doesn’t take long before you pull up in front of Taylor Owens house. There’s already dozens of people out in the grass all hanging out, the best part of living in the woods is having no neighbors to snitch when you throw a party. Aubrey finds a clear space to park and the two of you head inside, you stick close to her as you follow her inside. Some pop song you struggle to recognize is blaring from the speakers when you step inside, you both have to move carefully around the house as it’s already pretty packed. Your eyes scan across the room looking for Simon, you don’t see him but you do see his friends Kate and Deena in the kitchen. They’re leaning against the counter by the drinks talking with one another. As Aubrey leads you into the kitchen Simon comes in through the backdoor. 

“Kate c’mon, it’s your turn to take over, I’ve been out there for an hour now!”

Kate sighs, “Would another hour kill you?”

“You promised we’d switch every hour, go show those jocks your charm, there’s only so much I can do,” he jokes, nudging her towards the door. She rolls her eyes in annoyance but heads out back anyway, Deena follows behind her to keep her company. As Simon turns away from the girls his eyes land on you, he smiles wide and laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit…I never thought I’d see the day you came to a party!” He walks towards you giddily.

You laugh nervously, “Uh yeah, Aubrey practically had to drag me here…”

Aubrey looks over at you and then to Simon and then back at you. She nudges you towards Simon and looks up at him, “Y’know, they’ve never even drank before.”

“Seriously?” Simon wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you over to the booze, you look back at Aubrey and she’s smiling at you with a thumbs up. “We are gonna fix that, take your pick.” You nervously look over all the different bottles, unsure of what you might like. 

“Uhh…what do you like? I don’t really know where to start with any of this…” You answer nervously. All the different brands and types overwhelm you.

Simon pulls you closer to him, leaning forward to get a better look at the selection. “Hmm…how about…peach schnapps! He grabs the clear bottle off the island, holding it up for you. “This barely tastes like anything, you’ll like it. Trust me.” He sets the bottle back down and grabs you a pink plastic shot glass, grabbing himself a purple one. You watch as he pours you both a shot, handing yours over after. You hold the shot glass up to your nose and sniff, nose crinkling in disgust.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” You ask, looking at him warily. 

“Oh yeah, all alcohol tastes and smells pretty gross, this one isn’t as bad as the rest though. You’ll be fine, trust me,” he smiles. You watch as he leans his head back and takes his shot. You watch how his nose crinkles at the taste as he sets down the shot glass.

“So I just lean my head back and drink it?” You ask, holding your drink up..

“Pretty much, you wanna take it fast, don’t let it sit in your mouth. If you do you’ll wanna spit it out, this one tastes a little like cough syrup so you really don’t want it sitting in your mouth,” Simon explains. 

You hold the glass up to your lips and lean your head back, attempting to shoot it back but you only get about half the shot into your mouth before you try to choke it down. Simon giggles and shakes his head, “Uh, here. Let me help you.” He grabs your chin and leans your head back, “Mouth open, c’mon.” You feel your cheeks heat up but you do as he says. He grabs the shot glass from the counter and holds it up, “Let’s try this again, yeah?” You’re definitely going to be thinking about this in the shower later. He holds the shot glass up to your lips and tilts your head back just a bit more before pouring the shot down your throat. He lets you go once you’ve swallowed it down but smiles smugly as he watches you wipe your lips. “You’ve got it for next time right?” 

“Y-Yeah…definitely,” you sputter. Your pupils are blown and you feel hot. Your eyes wander his body shamelessly. You’ve never had anyone touch you like that, never had anyone take charge like that. It lights a fire in you with only one way to put it out. Simon can tell he’s got you worked up, he looks almost proud of it. 

“What’d you think? It wasn’t too bad, right?” He asks, moving in closer to you, putting his hand behind you on the counter you’re leaned up against. 

“I-It was nice…I mean, it didn’t taste as bad when you helped me,” you say nervously, looking down at your feet and playing with the hem of your dress. His hand comes down to feel the velvet material, grabbing the hem and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. 

“I like this look on you, very…punk. It suits you.” Your cheeks heat up again at his comment, at this moment you’re mentally begging someone to turn the ac up. 

“Thanks…I don’t usually dress like this, I kind of like it,” You say softly, looking up at him. He shifts his eyes to yours, briefing flicking down to your lips then back to your eyes.

“Why don’t you? It suits you, you like it, so what’s stopping you?” He asks, continuing to absentmindedly play with the hem of your dress. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t want to stick out at school I guess? It feels easier to just blend into the background, y’know?” 

“Let’s make a deal, you start dressing however you want and if anyone says anything about it I’ll have your back. It’ll make my day better to see you walk into school wearing something like this,” he teases, letting go of the hem of your skirt.

“Fine…deal,” you chuckle, holding out your hand for him to shake on it. His grip is firm when he grabs your hand, he pulls you slightly forward as he shakes on it. You put your hand against his chest to stop yourself from stumbling forward. 

“I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to talk to you. I’ve seen you around school for years, you’ve always looked cute y’know. You remind me of the basketcase chick from The Breakfast Club, before they gave her that shitty makeover at the end though. You just…you’ve always looked cool, I don’t know why we didn’t talk before,” Simon rambles.

“To be honest you’ve always intimidated me a little, I don’t know why. I’ve always wanted to talk to you but I could never work up the confidence.” You can’t believe you’re admitting that to him. 

“Me? Intimidating? You flatter me,” Simon giggles, his hand comes up to his chest dramatically before he gives you a coy look.

You roll your eyes and lean back against the counter again, Simon puts his hand on the other side of you, boxing you in against the counter now. “Are you always this dramatic?”

He feigns offense, gasping and pouting at your words. “Dramatic? I am not dramatic.”

You chuckle, “You should really consider joining theatre.”

“They’d be lucky to have me,” he says cockily.

“So lucky.”

You both pause, tension thick between you two. You’re both suddenly aware of just how close you are to one another. His hand comes up to cup your face and you melt into his touch. He starts to lean in before being interrupted by Kate.

“Si! C’mon switch with me, it’s been an hour.” He sighs and turns back to face her, his hands coming down to his side, making a fist in annoyance.

“I was kind of in the middle of something, Kate!” He groans, his eyes flicking back to you as you lean against the counter. 

Her eyebrows raise and she laughs, “Oh! Were you just-”

“I was about to,” Simon cuts her off.

“Well, rules are rules right. We’ve gotta make money somehow,” she says, crossing her arms. 

Simon debates what to do but eventually sighs and gives in, “Fine. Yeah, whatever.” He;s clearly annoyed by Kate interrupting the two of you. He turns back to you and kisses you quickly, catching you off guard. When he pulls away you instinctively lean towards him, almost chasing after his lips. “Come meet me outside, I’ll need some company. Maybe even give you and your friend a little sample, yeah?” He pulls away before you can respond and slips out the back door. 

“Did you really need to cock block him like that?” Deena groans at Kate. 

“He’s done it to me before, I wanted a little revenge,” she turns to you, “No offense to you.” 

“None taken…I think?”

Before Kate can say anything else Aubrey comes up behind you and drags you away from Kate and Deena. She pulls you towards the front door, “We need to go, whatever shitty food they had is going to make me puke. Can you drive?” Her face is pale and she doesn’t look great.

“Shit, yeah. Uh, go start the car. I’ll be out in a minute, there’s something I need to do really quickly.” Aubrey nods and heads out the front. You head towards the back to find Simon sitting in a lawn chair, a box in his lap, looking beyond bored. “You got a sharpie on you?” You ask, standing in front of him.

He nods and grabs it out of his hoodie pocket, he hands it to you with a confused look on his face. You grab his arm and roll up his sleeve, you quickly write your number on his arm and toss the sharpie back into his lap. You kiss his cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark. “Call me, okay?” 

He looks at you like he could kiss you again. “Yes ma’am,” he chuckles, leaning back in the chair and watching as you run off through the gate and to Aubrey’s car.

[grandlinedreams]

I’ve got cavities from how sweet Azriel as a dad would be. 🥹 What if Aria has her first crush on someone? Or maybe first boyfriend/girlfriend? What would Azriel’s reaction be? 🤭

RIGHT he's such good dad material UGH but here you go, I hope this is to your liking!! Wrote this w like 16 year old Aria in mind? So the twins are 11 (i tentatively put the frame of Aria being 5 when they were born)

|| warnings: Aria being a cutie, protective dad!Az, reader is amused, Ivy and River (the twins) being menaces

"Aria has a crush on someone!"

Of all the things Azriel expects to fall from his son's lips the minute he launches through the door, it isn't that.

Ivy is close behind him, shrieking with laughter as she shoves at her twin's shoulders, urging him forward as Aria looms behind. "River," she hisses, cheeks pink, "you littleㅡ"

"Aria," you intone in gentle warning as the pair skitter towards you, giggling as they take refuge with you to avoid their older sister's wrath. Aria looks less than pleased by this outcome, the look of quiet fury on her face one you've seen every now and then on your mate's face.

Azriel, however, is not joining you to play mediator with your children. Instead he's staring at your eldest daughter with an expression somewhere between confusion and mounting horror as Ivy chimes in,

"She got asked out on a date!"

You're absolutely certain Aria wishes she was an only child. The situation is diffused only after the twins are appropriately scolded for their antics, mumbling apologies that get them an eyeroll and the reluctant acceptance from their older sister.

And that's the end of it, at least until you're back in the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom with Azriel. "Everything okay?" You ask, concern coloring your tone as you watch your mate ready himself for bed.

Azriel halts, debating before he turns towards you. "Did you know about that?"

You blink. "Aria's crush?" He nods, and your expression turns sheepish. "I did. She told me a couple weeks ago." Before Azriel can give you a look of betrayal, you continue softly, "she asked me not to tell you, because she was afraid of how you'd react."

"I'm not mad," Azriel counters. "Just..." He sighs, approaching to pull you into his arms and hiding his face in your shoulder. "When did she grow up?"

"Children tend to do that, Az." Your tone is gentle but amused as you play with your mate's hair. "She's not grown up yet, she's only sixteen."

"Not helping."

You hum, then coax him away enough that you can cup his face. "She's okay, my love. She wants him to meet us before she pursues things any further, anyways."

That seems to soothe Azriel enough for you to finish getting ready for bed, and his arms lock around you once you're settled, pressing idle kisses to your neck. "...would you have fallen for me at that age?"

Your hands still their gentle kneading over his hands. "Well," you say, "considering when I was Aria's age you were still at least several hundred years older than meㅡ" He nips at your neck in reprimand, and you giggle before you roll over to look at him properly. Lifting a hand to cradle his cheek, your heart skips a beat as he leans into your touch. "Yes," you murmur. "I'm absolutely certain I would. I don't think there'd ever be a time where I wouldn't."

It's clear Azriel wasn't expecting that kind of answer because he swallows roughly before he leans in to kiss you. The pressure is sweet but laced with an undertone of neediness that makes your head spin before he pulls away just enough to murmur against your mouth,

"Aria's crush needs to meet Cass and Rhys before she goes anywhere with him."

[oklotea]

I was rewatching eah season one, and I got to the Maddie-in-chief episode. And OH MY GOD did this single episode hold so much potential as a full-fledged special.

Just imagine with me for a second, before EAH asks huge questions about autonomy, the true reality of Ever Afterian society, or what secrets lie in Milton Grimm's head, they make a point to truly bring your attention to the underlying classism and favoritism in ever after.

It could have been the first crack that would eventually lead to them questioning Milton Grimm even further, and finding Giles, and eventually finding out the storybook of legends had been a fake.

AND OTHER SUCH IDEAS, I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!

We could have gotten the chance to develop Maddie's character further. They had strongly implied that Maddie was much more smarter than what you may first assume, what is it with that? How do those skills properly show themselves? Not just in debate, but on a daily basis? How is Maddie intellectual in a way only the wonderlandians can see? And better yet, how has the people in ever after high chose to neglect her and her skills?

THIS HYPOTHETICAL SPECIAL COULD HAVE BEEN AN AMAZING TIME TO ESTABLISH THE WONDERLAND CURSE AND HOW KITTY, MADDIE, AND LIZZIE HAVE BEEN DISPLACED FOR A GOOD HALF OF THEIR LIFE!!!!!!!

It could have been such a great moment to make the audience care about Maddie, and possibly the wonderlandians, even further.

We could have gotten Apple's first bit of character development, found in her earnestly looking at the non-royal characters as people equal to her, because let's be real, if we looked at the way she saw non-royals/commoners in the first book as something to build off of, it obviously comes off as disingenuous.

Maybe at the first half of the story, Apple is very sweetly and discreetly underestimating Maddie. Maybe going on behind her back about how, even though she admires Maddie's bravery, she doubts there'll even be any competition.

Only for as the special goes on, Apple watches how Maddie is actually a very talented, formidable and driven opponent

How will they show this?????? UHHHHH I HAVEN'T FIGURED THAT OUT YET

BUT COMPETENT, AND GENUINELY DEPENDABLE STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT CANDIDATE MADDIE IS A CONCEPT THAT COULD BE SOOOO SO JUICY

Like.... She's the kind of person who could be handed over an entire pile of student council work, the likes of which even sends a shiver down Apple White's spine, but thanks to the effects of wonderland, and wonderlandian photographic memory (I have no idea if that's a thing that only Lizzie has in wonderlandiful world but...... BUT LET ME COOK!!!! AGRHEGRGSVD) MADDIE IS DEPENDABLE, SHE HAS SKILLS THAT SHOW HER POTENTIAL AS A STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT!!!!! And not only that, she's got a big heart, and she cares about her friends and fellow non-royals very deeply, and just, having a non-royal as a student council president would be a huge step forward before all the crazy shit that would eventually happen in the future webisodes and specials.

EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE OG WEBISODE WOULD HAPPEN ONLY WITH THE STAKES MUCH MORE HIGHER, AND A MUCH MORE SERIOUS TONE

And Maddie decides herself that she wants to work alongside Apple, because she can see just how genuinely dedicated and talented Apple is, and with that, Apple's character development for the special is wrapped into a neat bow, and from then on her and Maddie being student council presidents is an IMPORTANT THING that gets BROUGHT UP

Like in Dragon Games, we could have hypothetically gotten Maddie walking up to Apple, sadly asking her how she could allow the dragon games to happen, and better yet how her mom can allow the evil queen to walk free!

Maddie requests that, since she doesn't have as much leverage over Snow White, how about Apple takes some action to stop the games and convince her mom to take the evil queen hostage once again?

Only for Apple to visibly be racking her brain, and snapping at Maddie, telling her she can't do that, and the games must go on.

It would have really sucked and it would have hurt and it would have been amazing.

That's just ONE example I've got on Apple and Maddie being co-presidents being acknowledged.

Apple and Maddie could have had a more defined dynamic.... It would have been interesting seeing two characters who are so drastically different in how they function being in such close proximity to one another, and having to work closely with each other!

Alright, my final point in proving to you maddie-in-chief should have been it's own special issss.......

JUST IMAGINE THE DOLLS

Here's what I have in mind,

Pin striped suit Madeline Hatter

Pillbox hat, pencil skirt Apple White

VERY MUCH PRESIDENT ELECTION CODED

I jotted down some scrappy sketches to show you what I mean

It's not the best, I spent like, 5 minutes on it, but YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYINH

YOU DO

I TRUST THAT YOU DO

THEY'RE BOTH WEARING SASHES THAT HAVE EACH OF THEIR SLOGANS ON

Maddie obviously wearing a sash that says, "Hats over Crowns" Cause that's iconic

And Apple wears something more, idk royally conservative???!???? Something with the sentiment that, the Royal way is the better way, OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YOU GET IT.

And we're not stopping with just Maddie and Apple! Even though they are both the crown jewels of this student council president election doll line (someone come up with a better name, god bless), the rest of the line consists of a handful of Apple supporters, and a hatful of Maddie supporters. Their groupies, per se.

All of them in dresses or suits, whatever it is, very much business formal, or business casual, they all look quite prim!

That's all I got so far on the maddie-in-chief special concepts.

If anyone wants to build upon them, by all means do so!!!! I would love to see what you people come up with!!! :D

Alrighth, take care everyone. Thanks for making it this far

[missmonsters2]

Heya, i was wondering if i could ask a question about Under the light/you found me?

I'm assuming after under the light yn started her physio again and got better since it seemed she didn't have a limp. But I was wondering if it left any permanent scars? As I was wondering after their first time having sex after the break, wanda might have asked about it while they were in bed? Or when yn was undressed at some point had her back to wanda, she noticed the scars and delicately touched them?

I'd like to think she def had yns body memorised so seeing all the new marks made her want to etch them into her mind. But she also felt guilty, not being there in her time of need (even tho yn didn't want her to see anyway).

So yeah I was just curious whether wanda talked or focused her touch of them after she made love to yn?

Under the Light || You Found Me

Hiii!! This is a mix between explaning and partially written behind the scenes!!

Yes, Reader finished her weekly physio in california and keeps up with her regular stretches and exercises to prevent her legs from getting bad. She still goes to physio monthly.

As for scars, there are definitely some on her legs. Particularly, there's one that starts mid-calf and goes up her thigh to her hip. It's completely healed over but the the scar healed as whatever lighter skin-tonned raised bump.

Reader typically never feels self-conscious about it, but the way Wanda gazes upon her skin, her fingers tracing over the scar can make Reader feel slightly uncomfortable in an insecure way.

"I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours." Is all Wanda ever says when she notices you're uncomfortable.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They've talked about it a few times late at night when the world is sleeping but they're just basking in each other's presence in bed. The sheets rest just below their shoulders.

"I don't know," you say quietly. "I don't hate the scars, per se. I don't love them either. They're a reminder that I survived." The implied words that your best friend didn't hung in the silence.

Wanda nods because she feels the same way. "I understand. I feel the same way. Not because I think they're gruesome or anything. I love them because they are a reminder you survived and I'm so, so thankful. But they're also a reminder that I was a bad girlfriend—that I was a coward and neglected to notice."

You brush a stray strand of hair behind Wanda's ear.

"I think the way you look and touch them every day has more than made up for it."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There are times when you are in a mood, one that can't quite be explained.

It's your own fault really. Sometimes you neglect your daily streches and miss your monthly physio appointments.

Your legs hurt and you're cranky, and you just don't want Wanda to know.

"Why do you insist on hiding it from me?" Wanda scowls at you.

"Why are you always in my business?" you scowl at her back.

Wanda doesn't engage further, knowing that it'll only lead down to a horrid fight with you that ends up with the two of you feeling guilty.

"Lay down on the couch," Wanda jerks her head towards the couch and walks off to grab some icy-hot lotion.

"It's fin—"

"JUST LAY DOWN!" Wanda yells from the kitchen and you purse your lips before doing as she says.

"Just lay down," you mockingly whisper to yourself as you lay on your stomach.

Wanda comes with the lotion and hovers of you. She debates taking off your shorts but decides to leave it be since they're short enough.

Once Wanda's hands start working in slow motions, massaging your calf and slowly making her way up, and the lotion slowly warming up your muslces, you relax.

It's only about 10 minutes into the massage that you turn your head and watch Wanda's focused face but her eyes filled with concern and love that guilt wracks you.

"Sorry," you mumble. "Thank you."

Wanda eyes merely moves to look at you while she continues working. She looks back at your legs, her eyes trailing the long rasied scar. "I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours."

[obsessive-valentine]

Yandere!Doctor who became so obsessed with you after a check up he makes you sick to take care of you😩

Yandere!doctor x GN!Reader HC’s

Your new doctor seems to be fond of you, maybe a little to fond? TW: sick reader, reader being poisoned, reader being kidnapped, mention of needles

You frequent your doctor for checkups due to some chronic or ongoing illness that’s not debilitating or to hindering but note-worthy enough to have to get tests and consultations every now and then.

But due to moving you’ve had to switch from your family doctor to a more local one. Life is getting busy and you find it hard to be consistent with your appointments, but eventually you turn up and intend to make it a habit again.

He lectures you about the missed appointments as soon as he introduces himself, he’s quite a stern and honest doctor and intends to give you the same treatment as the rest of his patients.

Only to become smitten with you. Your apologetic excuses and hints of witty banter, you’re just adorable. Still he conducts the check up and lets you on your way after confirming you’ll turn up to your next appointment date.

This drives him increasingly mad, a few weeks go by and he can’t stop thinking about you. And his thoughts begin taking a darker turn, if only you are sicker he can see you more.

He begins over exaggerating your sickness, insisting you have more frequent check-ups.

It then becomes more sinister and he can’t leave it at just check-ups. And after many sleepless nights of debating if this is the right thing to do, he knocks you out via injection during an appointment and kidnaps you.

He could very well be a ‘normal’ boyfriend, hide his yandere tendencies, and weasel his way into your life the normal way if you weren’t his patient. But he can’t afford to scare you away and possibly loose his job by violating policy, so he feels backed into a corner.

For the most part he keeps you sick, and tells you he’s only kidnapped you because you’re too sick and can’t look after yourself like he can.

You’re too weak to fight him, and even lets him close willingly if it means he’ll take away some of the discomfort, fully believing your health has taken a turn for the worse. No clue your being poisoned.

He attempts to be apologetic and comforting but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

And for the most part your relationship still reflects that of a doctor and patient. Regular check-ups, bed rest and oddly formal talk.

Darker hcs :

His hands embarrassingly wander inpropiately during exams, he’s ashamed to not be able to hold such urges back.

Who knows exactly how to make a death look like a accident or untreated condition and has his hands on a vast range of drugs, so he can take out any competition or people who aren’t good for his darling before he kidnaps them.

Who uses your sickened state to hold you and feel you for as long as he wants. It never goes further than that but he does fantasise.

[moonstruckme]

could you write steve harrington x reader x eddie munson?

something like, Eddie invited Steve to see his band playing at a bar and during the presentation Steve starts to flirt with the reader cause he thinks she's the most gorgeous girl ever, and hes actually happy cause she is flirting back, and when the show ends Eddie gets to them and he is like "yeah shes my girlfriend but don't worry we like to share"

Hi, thanks so much for your request! This got a bit long, but I hope you like it :)

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Steve knows that, in theory, he's supposed to be here for Eddie. And Eddie is good, commanding the attention of the entire bar, the colored lights seeming to shine more brightly upon him. It's unfair to his bandmates, really, but Eddie's just like that. Has been from the first time Steve met him, and he's grown more fascinated with the other man each day since.

It's part of why, when Eddie had asked Steve and no one else to come to his show that night, Steve hadn't hesitated before cancelling his plans with Robin. But now that he's here, he finds his attention unwillfully divided between the bright, shining star on the stage and the girl beneath it, glowing softly like the moon.

It seems like every bit of light that catches Eddie refracts back onto you, and you beam up at him, clearly enamored. Steve knows the feeling. Maybe it's that kinship that drives him towards you, maybe it's something else, but Steve finds himself drifting through the crowd, letting himself be bashed around by overenthusastic moshers, until he's beside you.

"Do you know their stuff?" he shouts over the music, jerking his chin towards the band.

You smile, eyes roaming his face appreciatively, and Steve's mouth goes utterly dry. He didn't begrudge you the attention you were bestowing upon Eddie, but having it directed at him is something different entirely. Steve wonders if he's never been properly looked at in his life, if this is what it's supposed to feel like.

"I do!" Your enthusiasm is adorable, and Steve finds himself grinning back at you as if in a trance. "I go to all of their shows. Is this your first one?"

"Yeah," Steve says, debating whether to tell you he knows someone in the band. What if you want him to introduce you to Eddie? He's not sure if he could stand watching as the two most gorgeous people he's ever seen get together right in front of him; Steve's too selfish for that.

He's saved from his moral dilemma when you nod cheerfully, as if Steve's just given more than a bland, one-word response. "Yeah, didn't think I'd seen you here before. Whaddya think?"

This, he can answer with complete honesty. "I really like it. They're awesome." Some of them more of others, in Steve's opinion. But he might be biased.

You look downright jubilant at his answer, and Steve's happy to have something in common with you. "Aren't they?" you yell back, still bopping your head to the rhythm even as you devote most of your attention to Steve. Eddie starts on a guitar solo, and you both abandon your conversation to watch, whooping above the roar of the crowd, and when Eddie grins, Steve's not sure which one of you it's directed at. Once the chorus starts again, you grab at Steve's collar, pulling him closer so you can yell in his ear. He's eager to oblige you. "You should come to more shows, if you can. I'd love to have someone to hang out with."

Steve hopes the lighting is camoflaging his blush, but there's no hiding the beaming grin that comes to his face at what he hopes you're implying. "Sounds good to me," he yells back, taking the opportunity to put his hand in your hair under the premise of gaining easier access to your ear. "Actually, I'm really thirsty. Come to the bar with me for a drink? I'll buy."

You agree without any further persuasion, and while neither of you ever takes your attention completely off the band, you spend the rest of the set chatting at the bar. By the time Eddie hops down from the stage, your hands are joined on the bartop, and you're running your thumb along Steve's knuckle flirtatiously. Eddie heads straight for the two of you and Steve wilts slightly, knowing the jig is up, but when Eddie grins at him, he can't help but smile back. It's an automatic response.

"Hey," Eddie greets him, before his eyes find you. "Hi, sweet thing." He wraps an arm around your shoulders, and your cheek dimples where he kisses it. "Did you have fun?"

You hum in happy affirmation. "I met Steve."

Eddie chuckles. "Yeah, I can see that, baby." His gaze falls on Steve, who's busy wishing a sinkhole would open under his seat and swallow him up. "I was gonna introduce you to my girlfriend after the show, but it seems like you found each other without me."

"Your girlfriend," Steve repeats dazedly. He looks between the two of you, waiting for someone to be offended. Should it be him? You were flirting with him too, or had he misread everything? There was no way Eddie didn't see your hands atop the bar, fingers intertwined. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys were together. I wouldn't've—"

"Shit, relax, Harrington," Eddie laughs, and now Steve's definitely offended. How could he have thought Eddie liked him, when he would laugh at Steve's humiliation like this? "My bad, I should've explained. Y/N is my girlfriend, but we're not...exclusionary."

Steve says nothing, letting his flabberghasted expression speak for him.

"I was sort of hoping you guys would hit it off tonight. We're into sharing," Eddie says it casually, as if its not the most surprising and objectively the best news Steve has heard in his entire life.

"Wait." Steve wants to be sure he has this right. "So you," he looks at Eddie, grinning smugly as he watches Steve put it together, "and you," he turns to you, gazing at him with kind, hopeful eyes, "are in a relationship, but you want...me, to be in your relationship too?"

"If you want to," you say softly, squeezing Steve's hand. "Eddie's been campaigning for this for weeks, and after tonight, I'm pretty sold on the idea too." You laugh a little, and Steve realizes, for the first time, that you're nervous.

"Yeah." Steve's palm is sweaty against yours, but the answer comes to him easily. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great." Eddie doesn't seem surprised, necessarily, but his smile is giant and goofy, and you seem equally thrilled. "Then how about I order us some more drinks?"

Steve's only had one tonight, but as Eddie slings his other arm around his shoulder, wrapping the three of you in a loose hug, he feels plenty drunk already.

[chillicoded]

Lando Norris is NOT an underdog.

This is NOT Lando hate. I don't endorse or tolerate hate towards ANY driver. This is just an opinion.

I had a conversation with somebody on Bumble about the Norris/Verstappen championship battle this season. I was for Verstappen, he was for Norris - no problem whatsoever in itself. After Max's absolute dominance last season, I really can't blame anyone for being bored of Max winning and wanting to see a new driver succeeding. But what Got My Goat is that he said the reason he wants Lando to win the WDC is because "he's an underdog". I sent a (pretty lengthy) message back on why I really don't think Lando qualifies as an underdog, and he never got back to me to defend his position. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he just wasn't on Bumble to debate the nuances of what it means to be an underdog. Either way, I figured the topic would make a good first opinion post because I'm more likely to get a discussion out of it here, plus I have extra thoughts to add.

To me, an underdog is somebody who is disadvantaged because of the external resources available to them, in comparison to those they are competing against. For an F1 driver, that's the car, the team, the strategy, the experience they have in F1, the track (not just condition, but whether or not it suits their car) and momentary bursts of luck, among countless other variables. A good "underdog coming out on top" narrative comes from a person or character (in this case a driver) performing well or succeeding despite lacking the ideal resources to do so.

It's important to note that I don't think skill counts as an external resource. I also think skill is hard to measure. I personally would measure it in terms of results, consistency and versatility, but even within that, I feel like you need to take all of the external factors into account. For example, DNFing or dropping way back because of a collision, bad luck with the car or a botched pit stop would make a dent in a driver's consistency and results, but it doesn't mean they're less skilled.

Underdog narratives do exist in F1. The Alpine double podium in Brazil was a great underdog narrative. The Alpine car is hardly competitive most of the time. At the start of the season it was an absolute tractor. I don't know enough about the team, strategies, pit stops, etc. to comment on those, but regardless, I don't think anyone was expecting a double podium from them this season because Alpine just hasn't been competing at the front of the field. Yet, despite all that, both drivers finished on the podium and scored mad points in easily the most unpredictable race of the season.

Franco Colapinto performing well and scoring points, despite being dumped into Williams mid-season with a firmly midfield car and no experience, is also an underdog narrative. He's far outperformed Logan Sargeant already and has been battling with some of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and coming out on top. I don't think anyone was expecting all this from him when he was first brought into F1. Personally I saw a lot of people saying that they were booting out one underprepared F2 driver, and replacing him with another underprepared F2 driver. I was part of that crowd too. Sorry Franco. I was not familiar with your game.

Even Carlos Sainz's win at Singapore last year could be considered an underdog narrative. Sure, he started on pole and he's an experienced driver, but everyone was an underdog compared to Red Bull (mainly Max) last year, and Ferrari didn't have a great car or great strategies. He did have the luck of Max being practically out of sight, having been outqualified by Liam Lawson in an AlphaTauri (another great underdog moment, by the way), but it still takes skill to keep the lead, and his strategic use of Lando goes to show that even further than just the win itself.

These are just a few recent examples. Think about them. Seriously deep them. Revel in how they make you feel.

Now think about Lando's performance this season.

His first win in Miami was great. At the time, I was still a hardcore Lando supporter and I was absolutely thrilled. A few laps before the end of the race, when it became apparent that he was almost definitely going to win, I was already celebrating for him. It had been a long time coming and it was amazing to see him realising the potential I knew he and McLaren had. He's won twice more this season so far, and both times he was ahead by a country mile at the chequered flag. Aside from that first ever win, though, his other impressive performances this year haven't quite evoked the same emotion as my previous examples. That sense that he's overcoming disadvantages and delivering even when the odds are stacked against him just isn't there for me. Why is that?

There's no denying that he's a skilled driver. Three wins in a season with 7 different race winners (6 of whom have won multiple races) isn't too bad at all. He's also been relatively consistent throughout the year, never finishing a race outside the points. He's even been able to adapt to a range of tracks and weather conditions. For example, he finished P6 after the rain and chaos of Brazil, which threw off even some of the other skilled drivers mentioned above like Sainz and Colapinto.

But we're not here to discuss whether or not he's skilled. We're here to discuss whether or not he's an underdog.

Honestly, did you even read the title?

Anyway. Skill doesn't make someone an underdog. I established that earlier. If skill makes someone an underdog, Max Verstappen is probably the underest dog on the current grid, and that's obviously not the case. We need to look into those external factors I mentioned above: things like car, strategy, luck and experience, in comparison to what other drivers have had to work with this year. The less he has, the more of an underdog it makes him.

First and foremost, McLaren's strategies this year have been pretty abysmal. The terrible calls made in instances like the Hungarian Grand Prix and the lack of calls made in instances like Monza lap one have been enough to make me stop supporting McLaren as a team altogether. They insisted that they weren't prioritising the drivers' championship, but with the constructors' practically secured, I honestly find that hard to believe. If it is true, they've been doing a disservice to both drivers: to Lando by not giving proper attention to his very real championship chances, and to Oscar by ordering him to give up positions for Lando and act as a second driver at certain points, apparently for no real reason. Overall, McLaren's strategies have been in Lando's favour at times, but they've rarely been good. It's hard for me to compare McLaren's strategy calls to other teams, though, simply because I don't know enough about other teams' strategy calls. Maybe all the teams have been equally rubbish with strategy this year, so it technically hasn't been putting Lando at a disadvantage. I wouldn't know. If you have any insight on this, let me know and I might make a second, more definitive post about this.

As for luck, Lando has had bouts of both good luck and bad luck so far this year. He had some good luck in Miami, ultimately facilitating his first win, and he had some hard luck in Austria with his collision with Verstappen and Baku with qualifying. I'm not at all suggesting that Lando didn't deserve his first win (honestly, I don't believe that "deserving" matters in this sport at all), but I don't think he would've won that first race without the luck of the safety car, and I'm not sure he would've performed as well as he has without the confidence boost from that first win. With the car he's had this season (and I'll talk about that next), it would've come eventually, but I really do think that momentary burst of luck has been a really important factor in shaping this season for Lando. It has definitely had more of an effect than his moments of poor luck. I think few other lucky instances have had as much of an effect for a team or driver, except maybe Alpine's performance in Brazil.

His car has been a seriously influential factor, too. Of course, no driver's success is all because of the car; the driver and the car always go hand in hand. A less skilled driver can't properly handle a good car (see Pérez) and even a good driver can rarely drag performance that isn't there out of a tractor (see Bottas at Sauber). But, like his luck, the MCL38 has massively facilitated Lando's ability to perform this year. It's a car that has been capable of winning races by over twenty seconds, creating final laps that are reminiscent of Max's dominance last season. That alone begs the question, why has Lando not been performing consistently at that level? Where exactly does the balance of success lie between Lando and his car?

It's definitely worth taking into consideration that top teams this year have certainly given Lando a lot of competition to deal with this year. Even with a dominant car, with around six other drivers able to put up a fight against Lando, he's not in as dominant a position as Max was last year. But there is a difference in skill in certain areas, and it shows in moments like Lando's first lap bottles from pole compared to Max's perfect starts last year, for example. Lando is just not as polished a driver as some of his competitors, and that is something that naturally comes with more experience.

It's hard to say Lando lacks experience, though. 2024 is his fifth season in F1. He's not always had a great car, but now that he does have one, it's clear to see that he knows how to handle it decently well. Compared to Oscar Piastri, though, it doesn't look like his experience is giving him the competitive edge you'd expect. With four years of experience over his teammate, you'd think Lando would be performing at a much higher level, but that just isn't the case. As a quick example, Oscar's average finishing position this season is 4.9. Lando's is only 0.8 higher at 4.1. With that difference in experience, you'd expect a much higher gap in performance... or at least I would. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Let me know.

Overall, I really don't think Lando is at any kind of serious disadvantage that would make it fair to call him an underdog. He has issues thanks to McLaren's strategic blunders, sure, but the rest of his problems are pretty much skill issues. Call me back with the notion of an "underdog narrative" when Ollie Bearman is in the championship fight in a Haas next year.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader

A/N: the end of this one is loosely inspired by Bridget Jones bc Im ovulating x

Gentleman

Since the day you joined the team, you have made it your mission to consistently go out of your way to show Spencer Reid just how much he means to you. The more you’ve come to know him, the more personal your gestures have become, the more sentiment you are capable of hand delivering. By nature, you are a thoughtful person, but the second you were introduced to Spencer, you could see how little regard he had for himself, for treating himself kindly, for any amount of mistreatment that continued to beat him down - and you decided that it was your job, above all else, to show him how wonderful he truly was, the kindness he deserved to receive. 

Whether it be memorizing and delivering his preferred coffee order every morning, surprising him with chocolate and sprinkle-covered donuts, always backing him up in every circumstance - no matter how unserious, always jumping to his defense, always checking in with him, consistently inviting him out for small events that you know he’d enjoy; the list only goes on. And in the wake of your endless list of sentimental gestures, to Doctor Spencer Reid, you are nothing short of an angel. His own, personal, blessing. 

For some time, Spencer has been debating asking you whether you would consider developing your relationship beyond the wonderful friendship you have established, whether you had ever pondered the idea of, perhaps, going on a date with him, sometime, wherever and whenever you wanted. The fear of rejection and the fear of ruining the bliss that is his bond with you, has forced Spencer to continually back out of confessing to you, but with every passing day, you show him just how good life can be and he has no choice but to fall for you even further.

Today is his mother’s birthday, so naturally he has booked it as a holiday from work to spend with her. Upon entering her room, he finds her cooing over a huge bouquet of orange tulips. Pausing in her doorway, Spencer takes a moment to ingrain the image in his mind, to treasure a few precious seconds of his mother smiling in a daze over her favorite flowers, before he steps inside. 

“Hey Mom, happy birthday.” He greets her quietly, hoping not to disturb her. 

She doesn’t say anything, just looks over her shoulder with the same smile on her face. 

Strolling over to stand beside her, he examines the bouquet. “Who gave you these, hmm? They’re beautiful.” He says softly, gently pulling apart a few of the stems to retrieve a small note that only has ‘Happy Birthday Diana x’ written on it.

There is no name signed on the note, but Spencer feels his heart skipping a beat as his eyes scan the little piece of paper, because he recognises the handwriting quicker than he would his own. Though the realization very nearly kills him where he stands, he has no choice but to push it to the back of his mind and prioritize spending the day with his mother, but he finds her glancing over at the bouquet almost as often as he does, sharing a fond smile; hers for the flowers themselves, him for their sender.

That evening, as the sun sets, he finds himself waiting on an all too familiar doorstep with a bouquet of someone else’s favorite flowers in his hands. He wonders if he has arrived a little too early, understanding better than most how late you could arrive home from work, but thanks to a text from Penelope, he knows the team haven’t left on a case today. 

Much to Spencer’s relief, he is only fidgeting idly and tapping his shoes against your doorstep for an hour before your car pulls into your driveway. From beyond the windscreen, he sees you light up at the sight of him, switching your engine off and gathering your things as quickly as possible to scramble out of the car. 

“Spencer! How are you? How is your mom? I hope you both had the most wonderful day!” You chime, speeding over to the door and instinctively opening your arms to pull him into a hug, but faltering when you see the flowers. “What’s this?”

Spencer takes a deep breath. “It’s a thank you, or the start of one.”

You frown, your arms falling to your sides. “Spencer, you never need to thank me, not for-”

He shakes his head, stopping you in your tracks. “Believe me, just one bouquet is not enough to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, for the person that you are, but I hope these are a start.” He holds the flowers out to you and with a soft smile, you take them from him.

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you!” Spencer corrects you. “For everything, every moment you’ve spent with me, every word you’ve ever said to me, every smile you’ve ever given me- Thank you for the flowers you sent my mom, I have never known anyone who would think to do something so incredibly kind. Most of all, I want to thank you for taking such good care of my heart ever since the day we met, when you stole it right out of my chest.” 

Tears sting your eyes at his words, his gratitude and the feelings that pour so freely from his lips after so long, the sentiments you have been desperate to hear from the moment you first saw him. 

“Spencer, you really, really don’t need to thank me for anything, but for the sake of agreeing to disagree, you are welcome. And, for the record, it is an honor to take care of your heart. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” You say, voice gentle, somewhat afraid of the potential desire he may have to create some distance between you, having realized how close the two of you actually are.

“Oh, I don’t want it back. Not ever, in fact. Not having a heart does have its drawbacks, though, so, if you are happy to keep ahold of mine, would you do me the honor of letting me take care of yours in return?” Spencer asks, a playful smile on his face that you are more than happy to return.

“My, my, I never thought the day would come when I would know something that the smartest man in the world doesn’t!” You grin at him, his own smile widening with yours, urging you to continue. “Spencer, my heart ran from me and straight to you the second I laid eyes on you.”

As your words sink in, his jaw drops slightly, as though genuinely in disbelief at how obvious your feelings for each other have been since the start. 

A blissful eternity of comfortable silence passes before the genius can find the words he wants to say. 

“Well, if I have had your heart all this time, in the same way you’ve had mine, I can’t really take care of your heart as thanks, as I’ve apparently been doing that already.” His voice is hoarse, still coming to terms with the fact that you really do reciprocate his feelings for you.

“So, where does that leave us?” You ask, a teasing tone lacing your words.

“I believe it leaves us here, on your porch, with me afraid to ask you a question.” He answers matter-of-factly.

You chuckle up at him. “Spencer, you don’t ever have to be afraid of asking me anything.” 

He swallows nervously, nodding at you before avoiding your eyes and clearing his throat. In his heart, Spencer knows you are right, you usually are, especially when it comes to him, but unfortunately that does little to build his confidence in asking you such a question. Still, he has come this far, he knows he will never be able to sleep again if he backs out this time. Taking a second to compose himself, he lifts his head to meet your patient smile again. 

“May I kiss you?” 

His question hangs in the air, asked so quietly he wonders if you even heard him, but in truth he knows that regardless of the volume, you would have read his lips and understood him immediately. He was, is and continues to be your favorite book to study.

You are smiling so hard your face hurts, but you don’t care at all. Quite frankly, nothing matters in this moment except for the question Spencer just asked you. And after the confidence he conjured to put that request to you, who are you to deny him?

“Of course you can, whenever and wherever you like.” You answer, just as quietly as he had posed his question. 

Spencer’s stomach somersaults as he takes the one step required to close the space between you, relishing every microsecond that it takes to lift his hands and cup your face, stare into your very soul closer than he ever has before. Closing his eyes, the image of you remains as clear as day, so ingrained in his mind that on the rare occasion something else is at the forefront of his thoughts, you are always in the background, like his favorite song that plays continually, serving as the soundtrack to his life. He leans in and is surprised when he meets your lips half a second earlier than anticipated. When Spencer concludes another half a second later that you have stood on your tiptoes to meet him in his descent to your lips, his heart flutters in his chest. He feels your hands holding his against your face, then lifting to run through his curls, tugging gently at them as his own hands lower to your waist, effortlessly guiding you back until you are against your front door. Butterflies and fireworks of every color swirl in and around the two of you, encapsulating you in your own isolated universe, safe and tucked away from anything and everything else, save for thoughts of each other and every unsaid word that can now be told in a language the two of you have never known before. As the kiss deepens, your passion for each other raises the stakes of the situation substantially and the tension makes it difficult for either of you to breathe. 

Pulling away from Spencer just enough to see his face, you make a breathless observation. “Hold on a minute, gentlemen don’t kiss like that.”

Chuckling darkly, he rests his forehead against yours. “Speaking as a profiler as well as a gentleman, I can assure you that I am very much capable of reading your body language and kissing you in accordance with whatever your body asks of me.”

Managing to regain control of your breathing, you nod your head against his. “Speaking as a profiler and as someone that knows you incredibly well, I don’t doubt that for a single second, Doctor Reid.”

Smirking, Spencer lowers his head to brush his lips against yours, breath fanning your face and raising goosebumps in his wake. 

“Good.”

[princelylove]

Dear prince,

I have come again because I cannot ignore your callings any further. (I'm the anon that requested the jotaro hcs and prosciutto with model darling) sorry they were a bit tame, I have so much I wanna ask but don't. Partly because I get so nervous and giddy while thinking of sending them and partly because I forget to.

Anyways, I've been thinking of sending you an ask about the more doting yanderes e.g. Bruno, Jonathan and whoever else comes into your mind with a little 'miss independent' darling. They get so offended and pouty when their captor tries to help them or do something for them, thinking it's an act of underestimation and thinking they aren't capable enough and have to be babied. (How will the yanderes handle this? Maybe even a bit of brat taming?)

– 💝🪤 darling

There's no need to be shy about it. I'm fairly happy to humor requests, even if they're on the tame side. I do wish I'd receive some odd ones, though. Variety is fun.

Wellll. Do you like to be restrained? Because this is like begging to be given less and less privileges, assuming their darling is already safe and sound in their 'home.'

Bruno loves you a lot. He wishes he understood what he's doing wrong- spouses are supposed to relax when their man is home!

He gets fairly frustrated early on. It's agitating, if he's being honest. Bruno doesn't know how to punish this kind of behavior- his instinct is to bend you over his knee and make you count how many times he spanks you, but that's probably just going to give him more problems long term. You won't relax in front of him if he's hit you before, and the goal is to make you want to roll on your back for him...

Maybe he can't hit you, but he can scold you. Bruno exists to help you, please just let him handle the dangerous things, even if it's just cutting up some fruit. Knives aren't a joke!

He goes through a few stages before he lands on proper scolding. First, he tries to bribe you. Then, he tries to reason with you.

"Come on, amore. This is for your own good. What can I do to help you through this?"

Since neither of those work, it seems he has no other option than to chide you.

Jotaro wishes you would just shut up and behave. You're such a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that? He regrets how he handled taking you home. Maybe if he were nicer, you wouldn't behave like a spoiled brat that acts out for his attention.

Yeah, he's fully convinced it's an attention thing. You're just fucking with him. Obviously you're pouty and whiny because he's been busy lately, so... sorry. He'll be around more, ok? No need for all of this whining and screaming and crying shit, it's annoying as hell.

Yeah, sure, you can take care of yourself. He's not doing that. He's checking you. You're not a baby, sure, he never said you were. Can you just lift your shirt up already? He needs to check for bruises again.

You can expect any verbal resistance to be met with.... verbal resistance. Jotaro is unsurprisingly quick witted, and can be pushed a little before he starts to find it annoying. He'd prefer you to be docile and happy about it, but Jotaro can see a little back and forth as fun. Maybe. It depends.

When you really piss him off and aren't cooperating in the slightest, he's less fun about it. His ability to stop time comes in handy when his favorite brat thinks they can get away with not humoring his paranoia checks. If you're not going to play nice, Jotaro will just violate any sense of privacy you were clinging to before this. Fine, ok. Make him be the asshole because you don't want to do something simple like let him see your arms or stomach.

He offers no comfort afterwards, because he didn't do anything wrong. Maybe if you listened to him, you'd understand. The house rules aren't up for debate.

... Yes, he still wants to sleep with you tonight and to tuck you in nicely. That isn't up for debate either.

[bellaciaao3]

After the trio finish off Devin, Michael decides to give Trevor a ride to the deceased's mansion so he can get his truck back and return home.

During the trip, a fight ends in the least expected way for Michael.

//////

Michael watched Trevor standing at the edge of the cliff they had just thrown the car with Devin in it, debating what to say and do. Franklin's motorcycle had stopped sounding less than a minute ago, indicating that they were completely alone in the middle of nowhere. Michael deduced that Trevor had left his truck at the Weston mansion and, knowing his friend, the deceased's surveillance would be sitting on the ground until it was reported and the authorities came to check what the hell happened.

Michael found himself in a quandary inside his car. Leaving again sounded like...proving he was still the same.

Deep down, he felt they should talk and tell each other what they should. Trevor had just said he hated it, but when he had the chance to let a bullet go through his skull, he didn't pull the trigger. Trevor was unpredictable, but that insanity wasn't to the point where he could murder him.

Sighing and telling himself he would regret it later, Michael honked the horn a couple of times, getting Trevor's attention. He walked over to the car and leaned out the passenger window.

“Need a ride?”, offered Michael.

Trevor arched his eyebrows and looked around, as if desperately searching for something.

“Is this another kind of deal? I'll get in your car and a bullet goes through the glass? Should I jump off a cliff?”.

Michael sketched a sympathetic smile and shook his head.

“You left your truck at the mansion, didn't you? Hop in, I'll take you there”.

Trevor eyed him suspiciously, which Michael couldn't question for obviating reasons. Still, Trevor opened the door and got into the car. Michael set off.

For the first few minutes of the drive, they said nothing to each other. Michael hadn't even thought to turn on his car radio, sensing that any movement could trigger a fight with Trevor. He glanced sideways at his traveling companion and noticed that he was staring out the window, pensive. Apparently, that last mission had sapped some of his energy.

For Michael, having been for that brief moment they stood together at the edge of the cliff before Franklin arrived, it was like the old days, when they were two young men waiting for their accomplices and wasting time just the two of them, joking, pointing out details or just enjoying each other's company, not talking. Back then, being silent was not awkward, but comforting; a constant reminder of the kind of relationship they shared. Inside the car, however, the first part of the ride was almost suffocating. Neither knew what to say to each other. Michael didn't want to start a fight having managed to do a job together with a spectacular finish and, as far as he was concerned, Trevor was in no mood to argue. He could be wrong, for sure.

“Well, T...”, he began, tapping a finger on the steering wheel.

“Mike...”, Trevor uttered, as if giving him room to continue.

“We made it, huh?”, Michael chuckled under his breath, unsure.

“Yeah...”, Trevor replied, serious. “I can't believe I was finally able to put a bullet in Steven fucking Haines' head”.

“Being patient paid off in the end”.

“I doubt the next time I meet a fucker like him I'll hold back”, Trevor warned.

“I don't doubt it...”.

The conversation died as quickly as it came. Michael felt like he was drowning and Trevor went back to staring out the window, impassive. How hard it was to try to come up with something in common being two people who could barely agree with each other.

“Are you going to talk or do you expect me to jump out of the car at some point?”, snapped Trevor, turning to him.

Michael tightened his grip on the steering wheel, tense. Trevor always got his right by guessing his thoughts. Further proof that, for Trevor, Michael was still gnawing at his mind, not letting go, even if it wasn't what Michael wanted, for any of them.

“Do you want to tell me something?”, ventured Michael to ask. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trevor's expression struggle to contain the anger he must have been feeling at that very moment.

“Will my words have value or will you step on them again like you did so long ago?”, questioned Trevor. “Like you stepped on me even when I made it clear you were everything to me”.

Michael shuddered at the brutal sincerity that characterized Trevor. He should have expected nothing less from the man with whom he'd shared years of experiences in the world of crime and beyond.

“Tell me whatever you want. We've got a good ride ahead of us”, Michael allowed, trying to be the one to stay focused inside the vehicle.

Trevor clicked his tongue and leaned against the back of the seat.

“You know, Michael”, he began, his voice low. “After everything that happened between us, the first thing I'd like to do now is push you out of the way and take your damn car and let you walk back in”.

This time, Michael didn't react to Trevor's threat, knowing they were empty words. However, he remained silent.

“Or I'd like to be able to torment you day and night, since I'll be the only one doing it without these idiots behind us”, Trevor continued, looking at him strangely. “There are a thousand things I'd like to do with you”.

“And what's stopping you?”, questioned Michael, jaded.

Trevor bit his tongue and his eyes widened at the question. It was the one he could never answer Michael. It was the same when he threatened to cut his chest open and Michael dared him to do it if he wanted to; Trevor couldn't find what to say to him, since it was, as always, an empty threat.

“Can't you tell me?”, demanded Michael.

“Why don't you start and tell me what you got for acting like a good person? Why would you risk having me inside your car?”, questioned Trevor.

Michael exhaled through his nose and kept his eyes straight ahead. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

“Maybe...I just wanted to help you”, Michael admitted.

Trevor let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Sure... Right off the bat...”.

“I'm serious”, Michael insisted, cracking a polite smile.

“Well, thank you. I was wondering when you'd show you cared about me”.

“I told you before that I care about you”, Michael said.

“Yeah, before you hounded me not to find out the truth about Brad... A truth that should have been different”, Trevor exclaimed, grudgingly.

“T, it's... It's not that simple”.

Trevor growled dangerously. Perhaps they hadn't been the best words.

“It's not simple to assume that you made a deal that cost one life and could have ended two?”, continued Trevor, feeling anger bubbling up inside him. “Michael, at this point, I feel like it's not even that fucking deal that hurt me the most anymore. You let me believe for ten years that I'd lost you! Can you have the nerve to say you care about me?”.

“That's no lie! Didn't I come looking for you at the factory when I thought you'd been hurt?”.

“It was the least you could do, don't you think?!”.

Michael was about to veer out of his lane. He maneuvered to stay on the right side again and they both fell silent as the oncoming car honked insistently by way of complaint about the near-accident.

“You want me to get out here?”, mumbled Trevor, lowering his gaze. “We're not far...”.

“No, I just... I wish we could talk normally, like...”.

“Like before?”, questioned Trevor. He shook his head. “I'm sorry, Mikey, but in case you haven't noticed, things will be far from the same. Do you really think an apology, come sooner or later, will be able to change the way I feel?”.

“I know I didn't”, Michael sighed. “I know my decisions were shitty and have been to this day. I don't expect you to forgive me now or ten years from now. Only, I want you to know that... I'm not proud of what I did”.

“It's a big step to accept that, M”, Trevor mumbled. “I wish you had done it sooner”.

Michael glanced sideways at him again and decided to take a chance with another question:

“So, if you hate me so much, why are you here? And don't tell me it's because you didn't want to walk. You could have killed me after the Big Hit, inside the factory or at this very moment you could have pulled out a gun and blown my head off. Come on, T, be honest the way you brag and tell me why you're still with me”.

Trevor's expression twitched again, although this time, it wasn't out of anger, but bewilderment. Michael knew perfectly the ways to break Trevor's barriers in one blow, leaving him vulnerable and unable to use his sharp tongue to deliver a brutal response. Instead, Trevor gazed around different parts of the car, mumbling unintelligible words.

“All right, you wanna know, sugar?”, replied Trevor, clenching his right fist. “From the day I found you I felt like doing two things: murdering you or finding a way to drag you with me and keep you there until the end of our days”, he admitted, unabashedly. “And ever since I found out about your deal with the FBI, part of me wanted to choose the option of killing you and if I didn't it was because...”.

Trevor breathed harshly, perhaps not knowing how to continue. Michael realized it wouldn't be that long before they arrived, so he slowed down.

“Why?”, pressed Michael. He needed to know.

Trevor was silent and Michael decided not to press again. He didn't want to risk a more violent fight breaking out.

“Thanks for the ride”, Trevor said forcibly.

“You're welcome”, Michael sighed again. “You won't tell me?”.

Trevor pressed the lever to open the door and bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to say what he wanted.

“Will you keep your word to kill me in the end?”, sneered Michael, assuming Trevor would give him a death glare, an insult, and whip the door down before going to his truck.

What Michael didn't expect was that Trevor would turn to him with a serious look that wasn't enough to cover the sadness he clearly felt.

“No”.

“...Why, you don't feel capable anymore?”.

“Because I thought you died before and I lost too much. If you died now, this time for real..., I would lose everything”.

Michael was too shocked by the sincerity in Trevor's words to say anything. Trevor stood waiting a moment for him to respond and when nothing came out of his mouth, he exhaled, annoyed, and opened the door.

Michael was quick to grab him by the wrist, preventing him from leaving.

“...I don't want you to walk away”, Michael muttered, not looking at him.

“I still have to take my truck”, Trevor said, mockingly.

“You know what I'm talking about!”, exclaimed Michael, without letting go.

“Yes, I do”.

Trevor remained too silent for Michael's liking. He wasn't normal. Michael would have preferred him to insult him again, to yell at him and berate him for anything, as long as he wasn't silent. When he felt overwhelmed, he turned to Trevor, but he couldn't bring himself to speak to him. Trevor grabbed Michael by the back of the neck with his free hand and pulled him to him to kiss him rather roughly. 

Trevor didn't loosen his grip and Michael didn't try to pull away or push him away.

Of course, Michael wasn't the only one who knew how to break down people's mental barriers. It wasn't the reaction he expected, but he couldn't say he was going to complain or punch Trevor for surprisingly kissing him. He didn't want to do either of those two actions.

They broke apart and Trevor held a cocky grin, enjoying the short circuit Michael's mind was dealing with.

“Does it mean you don't hate me that much?”, asked Michael, trying to regain his composure.

“It means what it means, Mikey-boy”, Trevor replied. “Are we going out later in the week?”.

“If that's the way you want it...”, Michael agreed and was surprised at how shy his voice sounded.

Trevor winked cheekily at him, got out and went to his truck. Michael waited for him to get out before driving off himself as well.

As he drove, trying not to let his mind make him crash at the thought of the kiss and the feeling afterwards, he got a message that he managed to see at the next stoplight.

The words he read made him laugh.

Tell me the truth, do I kiss better than Mandy?