#but i do think i found some paper that will work i just have to hope its decent quality

[whre4wanda]

Watch Her

*Mature content ahead*

Mentions of abuse, blood, violence Exhibitionism, Strap on sex, fingering (Reader receiving), stalking, kinda rough and possessive sex, cum-filled strap, creampie

Summary- Your boss who happens to be extremely close to you, gets tired of watching your ex boyfriend stalk you.

Your pov:

Sitting next to Natasha in some fancy club was not what you had been expecting to do at this time of day. Especially since you'd knocked off about two hours ago, but Natasha had been persistent that you'd accompany her, claiming that you deserved to let go just a little. That and Natasha didn't exactly want to let you out of her sight.

You and Natasha had grown closer over time. Yes, some might have found that to be very "unethical" but who were you to care when your hot boss took a sudden interest in you. And Natasha was very interested with you.

Now, Natasha Romanoff was a woman of power — poised, unreadable, always in control. The youngest CEO in her firm’s history, feared in boardrooms and admired in tabloids. She didn’t chase things. Not often. Not ever.

Until you walked into her company as the new marketing consultant — Bold, brilliant, and radiant like sunlight piercing through bulletproof glass. And Natasha? She was ruined the second you laughed in her office for the first time.

However there had been one thing in the way during the process of you and Natasha getting to know one another. Your boyfriend. Believe me when I say that Natasha was not a fan of your boyfriend. She couldn't even believe you had one in the first place. When the older woman first laid eyes on you, her heart fluttered. Your beauty stunned her, not just that but your confidence too. She was a fool to think you'd be available, and surprised to see that you had a boyfriend. And anyone else would have believed that too but you were happy with your current boyfriend.

Well at least you thought you were, but things started going south very quickly in your relationship. It started with one slap to the face. You were both having a heated argument and unfortunately his palm connected to your cheek. Shocked to say the least, he apologized profusely. Told you it would never happen again, bought you the hugest bouquet of roses you'd ever seen then pampered you with love that entire week after. How naive you were to believe it would just be once.

One turned to two and two turned into ten. Slaps turned into shoves against the wall which later turned into punches. By that time you were deep in it. He'd hurt you out of anger, spite or even if his food wasn't warm enough. Anything enraged him and unfortunately you were his nearest punching bag.

You thought you were good at hiding it all, thought you were more careful but it turns out you weren't. Especially not around the CEO.

It was nearly midnight, and the building was mostly empty. Only the hum of security lights and the low whir of elevators echoed through the halls. Natasha was finishing up late in her cold office, glass of whiskey untouched, staring out over the city.

She told herself she stayed late for work but the truth was: she always stayed late when she knew you were working longer hours just to finish up paper work.

You — the woman with the quiet fire, the brilliant ideas, the natural charisma that left her speechless in meetings.

You — who smiled with your whole body even when your eyes didn’t.

You — who wore long sleeves even in summer.

Natasha wanted you. Badly. But you had a boyfriend. So she stayed in her lane. Distant. Professional. Tortured. Until the night she stepped into the wrong elevator — or perhaps the right one.

She’d meant to go to the garage. Instead, she hit the wrong button. Doors slid open on the admin floor… and she heard you. Quiet sniffles. A shaky breath. She stepped out slowly, heels silent on the tile. And there you were, standing by the vending machine, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, sleeves soaked with fresh tears.

Natasha’s breath caught.

“Y/n?” You turned too fast, startled. Tried to hide your face. But she’d already seen the smudged makeup. The trembling hands. The way your phone screen lit up with his name…again.

“I didn’t mean to—” you started, but your voice broke. And she was beside you in an instant.

“What did he do?” she asked, eyes dark and dangerous. You hesitated. But your silence spoke louder than anything. And when Natasha looked closer, she could see the faint bruise around your eye.

Natasha didn’t touch you — not yet. She just stood beside you like a wall, steady and still.

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” Her voice was low but gentle.  You shook your head. One tear slipped down your cheek.

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” you whispered.

“Especially not you.”

Her voice softened, but it cracked around the edges.

“Why not me?” You finally looked at her. “Because if I told you… I knew you’d never let it go. And honestly, I’m really scared.” She stepped closer then, slow and careful. “You’re right. I wouldn’t let it go.”

A small pause and then she spoke up.

“I’ve watched you try to shrink yourself for months. I’ve seen the light in you dim because of someone too weak to hold it. I wanted to stay away, I tried. But I can’t pretend anymore and I won't, Y/N. Not after this.” You exhaled shakily, leaning slightly into her surprisingly warm presence.

“If you want to leave,” she said quietly,

“I’ll help you. No questions. No judgment. Just say the word — and I’ll make sure you’re safe. Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed someone.

That was five months ago. It took you two months to finally take her advice. And you left him. You packed your bags and left him behind and as scary as it was, it felt refreshing to finally be free from him. But he wasn't happy. Your ex was now adamant on getting you back. He'd show up at your new apartment, in attempt to apologize and somehow win you back. His pleas were always the same some variation of:

"I made a mistake."

"I never meant to hurt you, I was just angry."

"I'll get help, you deserve better. "

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me."

But those random visits or coincidental meetups soon became frustrating and borderline pathetic. And shortly after that, the stalking began. Everywhere you went, somewhere, somehow you'd catch a glimpse of him. You mentioned it to Natasha once, but you told her it wasn't bothering you that much. Besides, the admin work to file a restraining order would take too much time. And that's something you currently did not have.

Fortunately for you, the two of you became closer after your confession. Everything had been at ease for a couple of weeks. Work was good, Natasha was a sweetheart, and your ex was nowhere to be seen. That was until your ex drunkenly stumbled inside the club that you were at.

He'd been watching you from a far for a while now. He watched the way Natasha leaned in, whispering something in your ear that would make you blush or occasionally laugh. And when Natasha lead you up to some private room, he was enraged. The way her hand was just above your ass or when you intentionally moved her hand down to your ass, he was beyond pissed.

Natasha lead you into the VIP room that served as her office. She'd use this room to conduct business, or just to catch a breather but now she was determined to make you fall apart inside of it.

"I could've taken you home." She purred as your lips met hers but you scoffed.

"That would take long. I want you to fuck me now." You whined against her lips and she chuckled.

The private VIP room was dim and luxurious, the bass from the club below humming faintly through the walls. You and Natasha were lost in your own world—her fingers ghosting down your arms, her lips brushing yours, pulling you closer with an urgency that made your head spin.

Just when your hands tangled in her suit jacket, the door banged open with a violent thud.

You startled, pulled away from Natasha, heart hammering.

Standing in the doorway, swaying slightly, was your ex. His hair was a mess, his eyes glassy from too much alcohol, and worse — burning with bitter rage. Natasha's bodyguards were quick, already piling in, ready to escort the man out but Natasha stopped them.

"Leave." She told them and they did so, before closing the door.

"Nat, don't-" Natasha gives you a look that has you keeping your mouth shut in defeat.

"So this is it, huh?" he barked, staggering a few steps in.

"Throw away everything we had... just to be some freak's whore?" You flinched, the words slicing through you. Natasha’s body instantly moved in front of yours, shielding you, her entire frame tense and humming with restrained violence.

"Look at you," he sneered, voice rising.

"I should’ve known. Always acting so damn proud, like you were too good for me. Turns out you’re just a filthy little dyke who can’t get enough of being someone’s side piece."

Your hands shook at your sides. You opened your mouth to say something, anything—but Natasha moved first. Slowly, she shrugged off the tailored suit jacket, before she rolled up her sleeves, exposing the tattoos winding up her arms, her movements smooth, calculated and dangerous.

"You have about five seconds to get out of this room," Natasha said, voice low and vibrating with fury.

"Before I put you through that wall."

Your ex laughed — a disgusting, hollow sound.

"Oh, please. What, you think because you’re some tough bitch, you can scare me? She’ll get tired of you. They always do. She’s just another—" Crack.

Natasha’s fist cut the insult short, snapping his head sideways so hard he slammed into the side table, knocking over expensive bottles of champagne. He groaned, clutching his face, but Natasha didn’t stop—she grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him upright again.

"You come near her again, you even look at her again," Natasha hissed, voice deadly calm,

"and they'll be pulling your teeth out of your stomach."

"Fuck you. You'll get tired of her anyway. She's just a whore. " He spit out, his words laced with pure malice and disgust. He coughed up before mumbling another insult. Natasha's fist met his face once again and you could hear the crackling sound of a bone snapping, most likely his jaw. He laid limp now staring up at the woman.

"You're better off keeping quiet for the entire night." She mumbled.

"But you know what, you gave me a brilliant idea." She stands up, stalking her way towards you before pulling a chair out and placing it just a few feet away from him. He's angry, but you could tell he was in pain and the fear in his eyes was pretty much evident. He'd be too stupid to try stand up now. So he lay helpless on the floor, looking at the two of you.

The woman sat down before calling out your name.

"Why don't you come sit here for me sweet thing." Stunned, frightened and really turned on, you approached the older woman. You placed yourself on her lap like she'd requested and she hummed.

"Now I want you to look at him."

"Nat what are you-"

"Look at him detka. Don't ask questions, just look." And so you did. Your ex stared at the both of you in disgust and Natasha's arm slid around your waist.

"Now I'm certain he called you boring and dry, didn't he? But I think he's wrong. Oh so wrong." Her hands were now settled on both your thighs, and you were certain that your panties were probably drenched with your slick.

"I just think the bastard just can't please a pretty girl. And it's unfortunate too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, could he detka?” She coos, fingers sliding across your smooth skin.

"What do you think about us giving him a show?"

"A S-show?"

"Well he did interrupt us, didn't he? Besides I'd like to show him all the things he can't have now. What do you say detka? It's all in your hands." You think about it for a moment. Hell you're too turned on to say no. So you nod your head.

"Yeah baby? Want me to fuck you in front of him?"

"Yes."

"Such a good girl. So obedient. Isn't she?" The question was directed to your ex and she only smirked at the defeated figure. Natasha's hand slid up to your button up shirt, where she proceeded to unbutton the silk shirt before her hands cupped your breasts.

A small moan of encouragement pushed her forward, Natasha's hands slid down to your thighs before bunching up your skirt. Her fingers felt cold compared to your warm skin. She slid her fingers across your covered pussy and you jerked forward from the mere touch.

"Responsive too." She cooed, her lips centimeters away from your neck.

"What do you want me to do?" She whispered and you could only grind your hips in response.

"Oh honey, we're here to give a show, you're gonna have to tell me what you want."

"I want you to..." A labored breath and Natasha bites your ear.

"Want me to what?"

"Fuck me."

"Oh detka." She hums before her lips press against yours. It's soft, gentle until it's rough, her hands roaming across every access of skin she'd come across.

You're grinding down on her thigh and her fingers are pressing into your covered pussy, before they're suddenly inside of you. You gasp from the unexpected stimulation before a moan escapes your lips.

"There you go, making such pretty sounds for me." You're slowly riding her fingers, panties getting in the way of her movements but she doesn't care. Anything to make you feel good.

Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, who lays helplessly on the floor still battered and bruised. He growls and spits out a disgusted protest as he watches the debauchery play out.

"Oh baby, did he make you feel so good?" She asked, purposefully thrusting her fingers upwards as you ride those same fingers. Your breath catches in your throat and Natasha tuts disapprovingly.

"Answer me."

"N-no, never."

"Never? Well I'll be damned." Natasha stops her movements before those slick coated digits are placed inside her mouth.

"Tastes so divine too." Natasha says with a cocky smile before she easily maneuvers you to the glass table that wasn't far away from the chair. Pressing you down onto the cool surface, her fingers pull at the fabric of your panties.

"I really hope you don't like these." Before you can even respond, she's ripping the fabric apart before her fingers slide inside of your pussy, this time reaching spots you didn't even know of.

"Well don't you have the prettiest pussy ever." Your eyes roll back, it felt so good, the way she had her fingers buried inside of you made you melt into the table.

Your moans turned her on, and the way your hips began moving along with her fingers, well she was now obsessed.

“Oh, fuck, Nat!,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table.

“This all for me detka?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again. You simply nod and she hums.

She slides another thick finger into you, grinning triumphantly as you release a wanton moan. She curls her fingers inside of you, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and velvety walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is coursing through your veins.

“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with at any given time. But you wanted to act like a selfish bastard and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at the man while her fingers work inside of you. 

It's true. Your ex knew that. You were practically the epitome of perfection and now here you were, being fucked by a woman, moaning louder than ever, compared to all the times where he had been fucking you. He thought he was good but he was clearly mistaken. Never had he seen such a dazed out expression on your face and this made his stomach twist in disgust and sadly, embarrassment.

"Shes so beautiful isn't she?" She asked while her fingers gently scrape through your hair.

"Tell her that she's beautiful. Now."

"S-she is beautiful." He stuttered before averting his gaze downwards and Natasha hums.

"You hear that baby, you're very beautiful. Now I want you to go ahead and cum for me yeah? Make a mess on my fingers." she mumbles, sliding a third finger into you and fuck you could practically see stars. Her other hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder.

The wet sounds coming from your thighs are obscene, borderline filthy yet uncommon to hear since he never managed to get you to this level. Ever.

"So beautiful" Natasha's wide eyes were fixed on the way your pussy swallowed her fingers.

"So good, come on cum for me." Your body stilled as you finally came on her fingers. Five minutes. That's all she needed to have you tumbling over the edge.

"And I bet you never made her cum so quickly did you?" She mused before pulling her fingers out of your now dripping cunt.

"Now, I'm gonna show you how to really treat a girl right, I think you need the lesson on how to fuck hm." Too dazed out to really care about what she said, Natasha unzipped her slacks before taking out the strap that had been in the confinement of her slacks. Large and girthy, she slid the silicone toy across your pussy and you whined, hands gripping the glass table beneath you.

She eased the toy inside of you, before pulling out and thrusting back in . It had you breathless.

"Oh baby, does that feel good?" You mumbled something incoherent and Natasha smirked.

"I've got you dumbed down so quickly huh?" She snapped her hips until the toy was buried to the hilt. You moaned and it was so fucking loud yet so intoxicating.

"Fuck, you're just so tight. So snug. What a fool you were for not appreciating such a beautiful pussy. " her thrusts has you gripping the glass table for your dear life, your lips falling apart as you let out a silent moan.

"I didn't tell you to look down did I? Watch her. Watch how I fuck her or I'll blow your fucking brains out." You knew it was possible, Natasha was very impulsive and it was honetsly questionable how the thought seemed to arouse you even more. Your ex begrudgingly watched as Natasha fucked you.

Pupils dilated, mouth hung open, hands holding onto the table, Natasha brought you up so you could look at him as she fucked you.

"So pretty right? I bet you never got to see this face much. Does it feel good detka?" You nodded but she was having none of that.

"Tell me."

"Feels so good."

"Can you feel me?"

"Y-yes fuck yes, I feel you everywhere." you exclaimed, hips jerking forward as she snapped her hips even faster.

"Better than his dick?"

"S-so much better." The squelching sounds should be embarrassing, but yoh can't find it in you to care when she was fucking you this good.

"You hear that? That's how good I fuck her." The woman grinned before her eyes trailed down to where her strap repeatedly rammed into you. Mesmerized is what she is as she watches your ass recoil, the sight is one she never wants to forget. In fact, if she had it her way, she'd make sure that she got to see it every single day.

"god, a fake dick has you running away from me huh? Has your pussy gushing out like that but he couldn't do that hm? Pathetic." She said with a chuckle. You're babbling, you're drooling and soon you're very much falling apart on the faux toy. Natasha continues to rut inside of you until you feel a warm liquid inside of your pussy from Natasha's strap. She watches in amazement as the sticky substance spills out of your pussy, it's a beautiful sight to see.

"A real dick could never make you feel like that, only mine can yeah?" it's possessive and it has you clenching around nothing.

Your body is limp as you feel her massage your thighs.

"Get out." She commands and within a second, your ex stumbles out of the room before the woman has her attention back on you.

"You okay detka?" A small nod before you're pushing your ass back against the toy.

"More."

"More?" She asks with a chuckle and you nod your head vigorously.

"Oh detka, I have all the time in the world to make you fall apart."

_________________________________________

Yeah I had a lot of fun with this one!

Ann~

[cheftsunoda]

heal your heart—cl16

smau + real life

carlos sainz x !sister singer reader

charles leclerc x sainz reader

catalina sainz has it all— she is a successful grammy award winning artist, her brother is a well known formula 1 driver, she has an amazing family and wonderful friends. she was also blessed with a fiance and a beautiful baby boy.. she had everything.. until she didn't. her fiance disappears and takes her son with him. catalina watches as her world crumbles...who will be there to help pick up the pieces?

fc : kali uchis

—

deuxmoi posted an update!

liked by 2,593,583 people.

deuxmoi : sources report that this blind item is about catalina sainz..yikes..let us know what you think!

—

username : NOOOO MY SHAYLAAAAAA....my poor baby

username1 : she has been so happy since becoming a mother...you can tell that baby is her whole world. he NEEDS to return that baby NEOWWW. i do not play about miss catalina.

username4 : he took the kid too? that is not just a breakup, that’s a custody crisis. hope she has a good lawyer.

username7 : Y’all love gossip until it’s your fave going through it. This is heartbreaking if true.

username14 : This is why you don’t rush into engagements with people who love the spotlight more than you do. He was just using her.

username20 : hey could you like not be a dick rn...this is her family and real life

username20 : hope and pray this isn’t true. she always seemed like such a devoted mom. taking the child? next level cruel.

username15 : okkkk but who is this fiancé? if u r bold enough to cross the Sainz family and take a child, you better lawyer up and hide...

username : the funny thing is... he is not even famous so he would be using her money to hire a lawyer

username15 : mans is TOAST

username24 : carlos' jet just left for japan...and the drivers are not even supposed to be at the track for another 4 days or so..

liked by author

username10 : ohhh shittt

username17 : i know lando is somewhere fuming... that man do not play about the sainz'

—

twitter thread!

f1gossipgirls : THREAD: The Catalina Sainz Situation – What We Know, What We Think We Know, and What Might Happen Next.

Buckle up. This one’s messy. (1/10)

So here’s the deal...rumors broke this week that Catalina Sainz—is dealing with a secret breakup and a custody issue involving her fiancé. Allegedly, he left her and took their son without warning. (2/10)

Who is the fiancé? Not confirmed, but fan detectives say he’s a lowkey entrepreneur Catalina’s been quietly seeing for a couple of years. Private IG. Almost no photos together. Suspiciously absent since March. (3/10)

Sources close to the situation say Catalina came home from a trip to LA for work and found them gone. Just a piece of paper that said he was done...Just—gone. (4/10)

Here’s where it gets interesting... Carlos has reportedly stopped following the fiancé on social media (they used to interact), and fans noticed he looked especially tense during a recent press moment and a fan interaction at the airport. (5/10)

Speaking of the aiport...Fan detectives found that Carlos' jet took off for Japan this morning when the drivers are not due at Suzuka for another 4 days...Catalina is rumored to be hiding out in Japan.

(6/10)

Some speculate Carlos has already hired lawyers to get Catalina’s son back. One tweet claims he’s “mobilizing legal resources across two countries.” If that’s true… this isn’t just messy, it’s international. (7/10)

Another theory? This was brewing for months. Catalina’s last public event appearance was in April—she looked off. No ring. No family. No fiancé. Just a carefully curated smile. Fans clocked it then. (8/10)

And let’s not forget... Carlos and Catalina are both famously private. If this went public, it’s not by his or her choice. Which might mean Catalina needs help—and someone close leaked it to apply pressure. (9/10)

Catalina Sainz may have been blindsided by her fiancé, who allegedly took their son and vanished. Carlos is probably involved behind the scenes. And this story? Just getting started. (10/10)

Stay tuned. We’re watching.

view comments

username : if a man took my kid and disappeared...i would def call my big brother too...esp if it was carlos. imagine trying to hide the kid from the whole f1 community #goodluckbro

username2 :the way Carlos is probably trying to keep this under wraps but has already called every lawyer in Spain, Italy, and the UAE...

username5 : netflix pls scrap dts and make a docuseries on finding baby sainz...

netflix : not a bad idea

username7 : IF Carlos shows up to Japan GP with a baby on his hip and no explanation, I’m gonna lose it. FULL TELENOVELA ENERGY.

username14 : me drafting an international missing persons report and i don’t even know them. i am rather emotionally involved now...CAT IS SO MOTHER SHE NEEDS HER BABY

username20 : need cat to come back with a breakup anthem that shames tf outta this man like...'you took my son i took the house'

usernameee : i cannot with you - bye

—

—

twitter!

f1gossipgirls : F1 announced this morning via Twitter that Carlos Sainz will not be present for Media Day at Suzuka. Williams states that it is due to 'personal issues'.

view comments

usernamee : this man’s sister is in hiding and his nephew is missing and y’all thought he was gonna sit down and chit chat w press??

username1 : 'personal reasons' in this particular situation from carlos means 'i am currently in my liam neeson taken arc...srry yall'

username3 : its giving 'media day is canceled because i am currently tracking someone across international borders.'

username4 : williams better be ready to lie, deflect, and deny all weekend because if a single journalist asks about this, it’s over.

username14 : williams : “It’s personal reasons.” us: kk but does “personal” mean international child recovery operation or revenge-fueled manhunt? just so we’re clear...

username17 : media day being cancelled is fine but if he shows up to FP1 wearing all black and dead silent I will SCREAM.

username21 : cat is hiding in the mountains. carlos is skipping press. williams abs giving us nothing...no longer a paddock—it’s a crime scene

usernameee : IF Carlos speaks at all this weekend, i hope it’s just “he’s been found.” then pure silence.

—

transcript of james vowles speaking to the press.

press : “James, can you comment on Carlos Sainz’s withdrawal from media duties today? There’s been a lot of speculation.”

jv : “Carlos is an incredibly dedicated driver. When he misses something, there’s always a good reason. Out of respect for him, I think it’s best we let him speak on it directly.”

press :

"Will he be completely pulling out of the race this weekend?"

jv :

"I am not sure the answer to that at this time. I will communicate who will be driving as soon as Carlos reaches out again."

press : “Is it true he's left the circuit entirely?”

jv : “Well, I can’t confirm anyone’s location—I’m not in charge of tracking my drivers,” “but I can tell you that williams supports him, whatever the circumstances may be.”

press : “So… is he okay?”

jv : “I think he’s doing what needs to be done. And I’ll leave it at that.”

—

flashback - catalina's home - madrid spain - 7:18 am

I slid gently out of the back seat of the blacked out SUV. I had just returned home to Madrid after being in LA for some work related issues. I gripped at my suitcases as I began to walk towards the front door. I was so excited to be at home. I was beyond tired and just wanted to crawl into bed and hold my son—my pride and joy.

The front door creaked open slower than usual. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe it was just the jet lag getting to me. My suitcase thunked softly against the tile as I dragged it inside. The house was still. Much too still.

No tiny socks by the couch. No squeals of welcome. No welcome home kisses pressed to my cheeks. No low hum of the TV playing in the background.

I tell myself over and over again that this silence is normal. Maybe they are napping- its early. Maybe he took him for a walk- maybe the park. I held onto that maybe with a death grip.

The air felt off...almost stiff...as if the house was even holding its breath.

"Hello?" I called out softly, hoping and praying for response. No answer not even an echo to be heard.

I stepped into the kitchen. The windows were open- he would never leave with the windows open. There was a folded piece of paper left under a mug...the mug he would always pour my tea in. I swallowed- hard.

My chest knew before my brain caught up. I reached for it slowly, my fingers like ice.

One line. Scrawled in that slanted, indifferent handwriting I used to trace on love notes.

“I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want you.”

No signature. No “I’m sorry.” No mention of the child we made together.

The edges of the paper blur. Not from tears. I haven't cried yet. I can’t. I am much too cold all of a sudden.

I fall back allowing the counter to help catch my footing. I suddenly feel my whole body go numb. I reach out and push myself up, not allowing those nine words to make me fall to my feet.

I walk the hallway in a trance and crack open the nursery door. The crib is gone. The rocking chair is gone. Even his little bear nightlight—gone. Like I had never once rocked my baby to sleep in there. Like he never existed.

I don't scream. I don't break. I just stand there, arms limp at my sides, until the silence becomes deafening.

I checked the drawers. Half empty. The wardrobe. Empty. The toy chest absolutely bare. A cold, calculated theft of love. Quiet, surgical.

I drop the note to the floor and wrap my arms around myself as I if I could protect myself from what I just experienced...protect myself from this deafening silence. I knew right then...I had to run. I couldn't live here without my baby— my joy, my reason to keep going. I didn't know where I would go but it didn't matter.

—

I booked the flight under my middle name. No return date, no checked baggage. Just my tote bag with a sweater, a passport and prescription for pills I haven't touched since I got pregnant with my son.

No one stopped me, no one even notices me. Not in the airport, not in the first class lounge, not even the flight attendant who handed me my tea and mistook my silence for sleep. If anyone looks twice, they look away just as fast. That’s the trick—move like you belong, and people won’t ask why your eyes are swollen or your hands won’t stop shaking.

Tokyo is loud, crowded, too alive. I took the first train out of the city.

A stranger on the platform told me about a village outside of Nikko- he called it peaceful and quiet. Said it was the kind of place where 'time forgets about you'. Sounds like that is exactly what I want- to be forgotten.

The train winds through mountains so green they almost look fake. Trees blur past like static. I had earbuds shoved in my ears, a hood covering my head and sunglasses so strangers won't ask why I am crying.

When I finally step off, the station is barely more than a bench and a vending machine. I breathe in silence like medicine.

The lodge is old, wood-framed, smells like steam and pine. The owner is a woman named Yui who speaks no English but offers tea and the softest futon I have ever touched. She doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t press.

I pay for everything in cash. Leave my phone on airplane mode. No Instagram or twitter. For all I know the public still believes I am in LA living my best life.

Out here, there are no mirrors. No headlines. Just mist and mountains.

Some nights I dream of my son’s laugh—those bubbling giggles when he tried to grab my hair. Other nights, I dream of nothing at all, which hurts more.

It sits in my chest like ice.

—

present time- catalina's lodge - nikko, tochigi - 8:56 am

Did I want to tell Carlos? No. Did I realize he would come looking for me sooner or later anyways? Yes. I needed him more than I realized. The more I cry, the louder the silence gets, the more that knife in my stomach twists even more. I knew that it wasn't long before the press took note of my absence and I wanted to get ahold of Carlos before those rumors did. That's what happens when you have shitty friends who will sell you out for a single dime.

I wasted seven years of my life for a man who just wanted to see me fail, wanted to see me suffer so badly. I made him. I gave him his career. I gave him our child. Any request was instantly granted. And this is what I get? Taking my only piece of joy away from me. I bet you are wondering...Cat...did you see this coming? And the simple answer is no...he never gave any clues to being miserable in this relationship...if anything I was the one who was miserable. However, that is a story for another time.

I haven't done much since arriving here. I sit outside, I cry, I occasionally scroll through my camera roll and listen to my son's laugh. Admire the way he smiles or how his eyes would light up when he looked at me. Every repeat of the video I feel myself become more pained. I haven't eaten, I vomit if I try. Yui brings me tea and snacks every morning attempting to get me to eat. She doesn't understand but she does at the same time.

I snap out of my thoughts as I hear a car pull up. A low rumble, uneven on the gravel road. It cuts through the silence like a thread being pulled taut. I feel my breath catch in my throat. It’s early. Still dark enough for the fog to cling to the edges of the pine trees outside her window. The room creaks around me, old and wooden, smelling of cedar and steam. I stand, but slowly—like my bones don’t trust it’s real. I move to the door barefoot, heart pounding loud enough to shake my core. Almost like I forget the amount of tears I have cried. That my mouth still tastes like tea I didn’t drink. That I have not slept in nearly 36 hours.

The door cracks open and my older brother is stood in front of me- eyes locked on me like I am the only thing left tethering him to the world. I expect him to say something—ask where the baby is, what happened, why I ran—but he just looks at me. And for the first time since it all broke open, I let someone see the full ruin of me.

"You came." I choked out, my voice barely audible.

Carlos doesn't speak. He steps inside and closes the door gently. He pulls me into him with no hesitation, holding me so tight and placing a kiss on the top of my head. I let myself be held. I gripped onto him like I never wanted to let go. I buried my face in his chest and began to sob.

"My baby...my boy." I yelped mid sob as I feel my feet begin to give out. Carlos catches me and helps me over to the futon- still holding me. Never letting me go.

“I know, Cat.” He murmured as he placed a kiss on the top of my head, holding me tighter.

—

I don’t know how long we sat like this— him holding me tight against his chest as if his life depended on it and me silently sobbing into his chest. I feel myself breaking more and more slowly by the minute — the kind of break that is silent and doesn’t make a sound.

When I finally pull away and sit up, my body aches. Like letting go of my safety raft in a body of deep, deep water. I don’t look at him right away— just wrap my arms around myself staring down at the floor.

He doesn’t say anything— he just waits. Then I hear him take a deep exhale.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” I say, and the words come out like an apology. I don’t know why—I didn’t do anything wrong. Except maybe I did.

“You should’ve called me sooner.” He states, not angry, just more of a disappointed tone.

I flinch. “I was ashamed, Carlos.”

There’s a pause.

“Why?”

I let out this stupid, dry laugh. “Because I let him do it. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t even know we were in a fight.”

I glance up at him, then down again, voice thinner now. “I was in LA for four days, Carlos. Just four. Meetings. A shoot. When I got back… everything was gone. The toys. The crib. His clothes. Mine. The drawers were empty. The house was clean. Too clean. Like he planned it.”

Carlos stays silent, but his jaw is tight. I see a muscle twitch in his cheek.

“He left a note,” I whisper. “Just one line. ‘I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want you.’ No word about my son. No ‘I am sorry.’ Nothing. Just left.”

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to stop the sting that creeps up again. “I didn’t know someone could hate you that quietly.”

Carlos’s voice is low and dangerous. “Where is he?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’ve called. Messaged. Emailed. Nothing. I even tried his parents. They won’t answer. They’re pretending I don’t exist. Like I lost custody or something, except—we were never married. There was never custody to lose.”

He mumbles various swear words in Spanish under his breath. Quiet and sharp.

Then, with a frightening amount of calm, “Alright, then I’ll find him.”

I blink up at him. “Carlos, you can’t.”

“I will.” His tone leaves no room for debate.

“You have a race in literally 3 days.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do care, Carlos.” I stated and rubbed my temples. “Your whole career—“

“This is more important.”

“You sound like Papá.” I muttered with half a smile.

He doesn’t smile back. His eyes are too full of something heavier. He looks…lethal.

“Good.”

And then, softer and almost gentle.

“You’re not alone, Cat. You never were. You didn’t lose him. We’re going to get him back. I swear to you.”

Something in my chest splinters. Not in a painful way—just in that awful, aching way that comes when someone offers you hope after you’ve already convinced yourself you don’t deserve it.

“I don’t know where to start,” I whisper. “I’ve looked everywhere. Checked his bank. Nothing. No charges. No flight. It’s like he vanished.”

Carlos leans forward, takes my hand. His grip is solid. Warm. “He didn’t vanish. People don’t vanish. They hide. And hiding leaves a trail.”

He says it like someone who’s spent a lifetime studying the details no one else sees. Racing lines. Different curves in every single track he’d ever raced. Tire degradation. Now— my ex.

I close my eyes. Let the silence settle around us again. The wind brushes the paper screens, and somewhere outside, a crow calls once, sharply.

“I was afraid if I told you, it would make it real,” I admit.

He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Mi Cariño, It’s already real. But now it’s not yours to carry alone.”

For the first time in days, I believe that might be true.

I let out a shaky breath, and for a moment, we just sit there. Two siblings in a borrowed room, far from everything we know, quietly starting to piece together a way back.

—

this will be a little mini series - probably 3 or 4 parts. i genuinely cried while writing this... i feel like it is some of my strongest writing. let me know what you all think so far!

tag : @klauslovemepls @omgsuperstarg @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505 , @hc-dutch , @lost4lyrics , @angelluv16 @dilflover44

[greenflamedwriter]

Gift of Obedience

Based on Ella Enchanted, what if Shen Yuan is drop kick transmigrated into the one npc who is cursed with Obedience and has to do whatever ANYONE says.

This is how Shen Yuan deals with that as a disciple of Qing Jing Peak,

‘Gift of Obedience’

Just had a thought- you know the movie Ella Enchanted? Where she had the gift of obedience and did everything she was told?

I was wondering what if Shen Yuan joins the sect and has that 'Gift/Curse' and is just trapped inside the body of a mean Shixiong tormenting Luo Binghe- and worse most of the disciples are catching on that Shen Yuan HAS no choice, and even his Shizun takes advantage reassured that he won't be betrayed.

Jokes on them when Shen Yuan (Who tries to tell his reflection he's not obedient and it doesn't work) however he comes to a brilliant idea when he see's Binghe in the reflection- training across the water.

He finds Binghe grabs his arm- and Binghe thinks it's an attack "Repeat after me- "Shen Yuan only obeys Luo Binghe."

Luo Binghe thinking its a trick says it.

"Shen Yuan only obeys Luo Binghe."

"No- Say "Shen Yuan obey me."

"Shen Yuan Obey me."

"Say it again,"

"Shen Yuan obeys me,"

"Who?"

"Luo Binghe- Shen Yuan obeys me, Luo Binghe."

Shen Yuan let go unsure if it worked. 

Luo Binghe still looked terrified, and Shen Yuan couldn't promise him anything, still unsure if it worked. He bit his lip, "Tell me I don't feel physical pain when I get hurt."

"What?" He looked really spooked now, at Shen Yuans glare. 

Luo Binghe repeated it.

Only once Luo Binghe was being beaten up by Ming fan the head disciple sneered.

"Hold him down, Shen Yuan!" 

Shen Yuan blinked, not moving. No way, Ming Fan noticed turning with a frown, "Shen-Shidi? Come on! Hold him down!"

 Instead Shen Yuans face split into a grin, "What are you waiting for- hit him! Make the brat pay!"

"Oh I'll make the brats pay..." 

Luo Binghe was cowering on the ground, and gazed up in awe at the years worth of pent up aggression being unleashed on his sect siblings, the elation on Shen Yuans face as he gripped his head in surprised shock.

 "I just did that- Oh oh Binghe I'm sorry!"

Shen Yuan helped him up and grimaced at the cuts on his face. "I didn't want to make it worse thinking they would- next time. tell me to help you. Okay?"

Luo Binghe was still unsure, but after that found the tides changing. Now that his older Shixiong was now defending him?

 Luo Binghe was smart, he saw the consequences and the change as so many disciples and even Peak Lords demanding things from Shen Yuan and having him look up at them with a look in his eye just daring them to expose his secret.

Luo Binghe thought it was a trick, that soon he would find all of the disiples in his wood shed and -

"Shen Yuan?"

"Oh Binghe, hey uh- you wouldn't mind if I bunk up with you huh?"

Shen Yuan had a split lip, and Luo Binghe found himself staring transfixed.

Shen Yuan was like him now, but instead Luo Binghe found strength and even inspired. How Elated Shen Yuan was in his face-slapping revenge. 

He's never saw someone punch up before, and Luo Binghe wanted to be strong like that too, but others in their place for pushing him down.

However Shen Yuan still played pretend, at first Luo Binghe thought he was betrayed when Shen Yuan did what Shen Qingqiu told him to, making Shen Yuan whip and beat Luo Binghe.

However when Shen Yuan limped inside the wood shed then collapsed his earlier resetnment and almost silent treatment vanished.

 "Shen Yuan-"

"It's okay-" Shen Yuan panted, his body trembling. 

Luo Binghe saw Shen Yuans wrists they weren't cut but had marks on them.

"Shizun asked me to strike my own wrist, it's his test that I'm obedient heh- I passed."

Luo Binghe recalled the earlier obedience Shen Yuan asked to never feel pain.

 Luo Binghe helped him to his cot, and Shen Yuan couldn't feel the pain but his body knew it was injured.

 "Binghe could you get me some paper and chalk please?"

Binghe did and watched as Shen Yuan with his shaking limbs drew the neatest calligraphy Binghe had ever seen and it almost irked him until he saw the writing.

 'I'll kill Shen Qingqiu for you, if you ask'

Shen Yuan exhaled, once he knew Luo Binghe read it, "Shen Yua-"

"Shh," Shen Yuan placed a hand over his mouth taking the paper back and igniting his qi to burn it.

 "Only when we're stronger, two against one. We'll get stronger." 

Luo Binghe nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Shen Yuan, tell me the truth." 

Shen Yuans eyes widened looking terrified...of him?

"Is this a trick? Are you just pretending to fool this stupid disciple?"

"No- no, Binghe I can't tell you why I did what I did or explain myself but I promise I won't hurt you again."

Luo Binghe glanced down at Shen Qingqiu's 'test' on Shen Yuans wrists.

 Luo Binghe needed to test him to know for sure it was true, that no matter what it wasn't a lie-

 But what?

"Shen Yuan hold your breath." Shen Yuan did, looking perplexed until the seconds ticked by, and Shen Yuan for a split moment looked panicked then acceptence.

 However Shen Yuans eyes turned red, face becomming purple and still not ounce of breath left his lips-

"Breathe."

Shen Yuan gasped air out then back in- and promplty feinted.

Luo Binghe stared in both fascinated horror, no one could hold their breathe like that and not slip.

 When Shen Yuan woke up, Luo Binghe had cooked food and was able to sneak it to the wood shed.

 When Shen Yuan woke up he was presented with congee and blinked at it in confusion.

 "What is that?"

"Forgive this one, Shen-Shixiong!"

Shen Yuan looked more lost.

"Forgive?"

"This Binghe made Shen-Shixiong do something awful, please take this as an apolgy and regain your strength!"

Shen Yuan smiled, "Luo Binghe has nothing to apologise for, I would be sceptical too if I-"

Shen Yuan froze, this was-

"Is it bad?"

"Its really good!" Shen Yuan gazed at Binghe looking lost, "Did Binghe cook this?"

Luo Binghe nodded, "Yes- I'll cook for Shen Yuan all the time?" 

Shen Yuan almost choked on his food- Binghe did not just say that!

"Shen-Shixiong? Was it something I said?"

"No- no it's fine-"

"Tell me the truth." Luo Binghe spoke, eyes narrowed and serious.

And Shen Yuan looked at him stunned - well he could bend the words a little if he took a second to phrase it.

 "When someone like Luo Binghe cooks for someone it's seen as something he would do for his wives." 

Shen Yuan wanted to die, but Luo Binghe looked confused.

"But this Binghe doesn't have any wives,"

"Not yet," Shen Yuans face was red so he began shoveling the food down his mouth to shut himself up.

 Instead Luo Binghe looked intrigued as he leaned close, "Is Shen Yuan my wife?"

Now Shen Yuan was going to choke, as he swallowed and scowled, "Binghe!"

"What? It's what Shen-Shixiong said." The kid look mischivious, "So I'll take responsibility."

Oh oh he was only teasing.

Shen Yuan blinked then relaxed with relief, ah he was worried there for a sec- He patted Luo Binghe's fluffy curls with a smile.

"When you're older."

If Luo Binghe joked, he'll tease him right back.

After finishing his bowl he told Binghe it was delicious, and now that he thought about it maybe it could be different if Luo Binghe cooked for him who knows?

"We'll need to get you a new manual, then once we train together we'll get stronger, Binghe more so than myself."

"Why?"

"Binghe is gifted. A complete prodigy once we get you the proper training I know Shidi will surpass this Shixiong."

___________________________________________________________

When Luo Binghe was tossed into the abyss, Shen Yuan figured he would be fine. Unless Binghe happened to ask him if he believed Binghe died and Shen Yuan told him the truth that he knew Binghe would fall into the abyss- he was a dead man walking.

 There were annoying rumours spreading about some idiotic shixiong who lost his soul from the death of Luo Binghe.

A shixiong that bullied Luo Binghe!

Shen Yuan sneered as he went through the motions of his sword forms, fucking idiot has the nerve to be upset now that Binghe's gone. When Shen Yuan hears the rumours he's more sickened that people feel pity for the moron.

 Shen Yuan was then slapped with a cool slap of reality when he was sent to Shen Qingqiu.

The man who knew of his 'GIft' of Obedeince was none other than Shen Qingqiu. The scum Villain himself.

As Shen Yuan bowed before him and stood inside he was screaming internally. At least Luo Binghe gave him orders but from here on out he's going to have to be careful not to be caught.

Internally Shen Yuan felt some smugness as his Scumbag of a Shizun paced from one side of the room to the other barking orders at Ming Fan.

If he was lucky, Shen Qingqiu would forget about him and dismiss him. He did that once before to see if Shen Yuan would leave or ask.

Shen Yuan just stood there and daydreamed.

"Shen Yuan,"

"Yes Shizun."

Shen Qingqiu placed his fan over his mouth as he glared down at Shen Yuan.

 "Are you loyal to your Shizun?"

"Yes, Shizun."

"Hmm, then can Shen Yuan answer me a question?"

Okay he's got this, it's so easy. 

"Yes, Shizun?"

The fan closed as Shen Qingqiu looked considering.

"Did you know Luo Binghe was a demon?"

Oh this was easy, any other time he was terrified he would be exposed to tell the truth.

"Yes, this Shen Yuan has always known Luo Binghe was a Heavenly Demon."

You don't know who was more stunned, Shen Qingqiu with both eyebrows going up. Or Shen Yuan realising what a collosal fuck up he just did.

 "Well that is interesting." Shen Yuan turned ready to bolt.

"Shen Yuan don't move." He stiffened, suddenly forced to a standstill.

He began to sweat panic making his heartbeat faster, what the ever-loving fuck is happening.

 Why was he still doing what Shen Qingqiu said-!? He only answers to Luo Binghe that's what happened with the other disciples...

Shen Yuans eyes widened, disciple- the fucking tea ceremony god dammit!

Shen Qingqiu circled around him, Shen Yuan was lucky he wasn't a scared little shitless kid anymore.

 He was a grown man! And he won't be intimidated by the Scum Villain!

At leasts he's conforted by knowing how Shen Qingqiu will die.

"You knew he was a demon and said nothing?"

"He would be killed, why would I say anything?"

Shen Qingqiu grabbed the bottom of his face and turned his head Shen Yuan scowled his teeth clenching as Shen Qingqiu looked amused.

 "Oh you fell for his charms? A traitor to the demons and betray you're own sect."

"More like saving my own life," Shen Yuan sneered. "He's a heavenly demon and pissing him off will only make it worse when he comes back for revenge."

"You think he lived? Luo Binghe is dead and you have a lot to answer for."

"The same reason I knew Binghe was a demon is the same reason I know he's coming back," Shen Yuan spoke quick but also glee, "And I know what he's going to do to you."

Shen Qingqiu looked amused taking a step back and playing with his fan.

Oh Shen Yuan may be unable to move, but even if he was executed here he wanted Shen Qingqiu to be terrified of the coming of Luo Binghe.

"Oh and what is it you know?"

Shen Yuan loved reading the trial of Shen Qingqiu, and he knew somethings that weren't common knowledge.

"Hmm, nothing much really except for your old Master what was his name again?" Shen Yuan smirked, "Wu Yanzi?"

Shen Qingqiu was silent, ha! Oh this was funny.

"Oh no wait he wasn't your old Master you had another one before him, yes what was his name- it sounds familiar oh almost like yours...Qui Jianlou-"

Shen Qingqiu grabbed his face and slammed Shen Yuan back into the floor and grunted with pain.

Shen Qingqiu was on top of him, eyes wild.

 "How do you know that name- answer me!"

Shit.

Shen Yuan grasped at his hands trying to pull back, "I read it." He didn't have to reveal the whole story-

"Where? Where did you read it!?"

"On a Zhongdian website under Proud Immortal Demon Way!" Shen Yuan froze.

Luckily he didn't have a system because he would be dead.

"What do you mean? Explain." At least Shen Qingqiu calmed down some.

 Shen Yuan pressed his lips together trying to hold back and yet-

"In my world this is a story, Luo Binghe a fictional character and you a Scum Villain- Luo Binghe comes back and makes you pay and I read it like you read your cultivation books it was fiction! Then I woke up here- Luo Binghe always wins he's a child of fate!"

  Well he can go with insanity as if the Scum Villain would believe this.

 Instead Shen Qingqiu looked considering, "And you placed your trust in Luo Binghe, Why?"

"Of course he's the protagonist." 

"A Heavenly demon is the protagonist? How does the story end? Tell this Lord."

Shen Yuan didn't want to say and shifted as the Scum Villain was still on top of him.

 He didn't want to say- the Scum Villain was looking too...excited by this.

"He rips of your arms and legs and kills everyone you love, marries a ton of women and has a harem and merged the realms."

Shen Qingqiu smirked, "He merged the realms?"

That didn't earn a response. 

 It wasn't an order.

So he didn't answer.

 "Hmm, either you're speaking the truth or you believe it's true. You believe this Shen Yuan?"

"Yes."

"You won't tell anyone of what happened here and you won't leave my side."

what?

"You Shen Yuan will remain loyal to your Shizun and if your Demon comes back you'll do everything you can do to keep your Shizun alive." Shen Yuan eyes narrowed. 

 He could still kill him, "You could just tell me to be obedient to no one and see what this disciple would choose."

Shen Qingqiu stood up tilting his head to the side as he looked down on Shen Yuan who refused to stand up from principle.

 Just spoke to the ceiling.

Shen Qingqiu scoffed, "Even without obedience you'll follow that demon of yours." 

 He looked extra judgemental too, "Luo Binghe found out about your gift and took advantage off it-Get up!"

Shen Yuan didn't want to get up and sure he was told to get up, but he didn't have to be dignified about it.

"Luo Binghe never took advantage of my gift," Shen Yuan huffed brushing dust of his uniform.

 "Unlike you and those cretins you call disciples," Shen Yuan glared at him. 

 "For years they made me do things and Luo Binghe was the only one who never made me do anything I didn't want to do!"

Shen Qingqiu laughed, "This Master finds that very hard to believe. You're Luo Binghe didn't test you in any way?"

Shen Yuan said nothing just instead just openly glared at his Shizun. He was going to make so many unfilifal faces before Shen Qingqiu turned him into his perfect puppet.

 "Tell me what Luo Binghe did to test you, spare no detail."

Shen Yuan bit his lip, "He- ungh-" 

Shen Qingqiu looked excited eyes lighting up. What a villain.

"He made me hold me breath."

"Hmm, and when did he tell you to stop."

"And the possible last second."

Shen Qingqiu turned and moved to sit at his desk. "Shen Yuan make some tea, and tell your Shizun everything."

[sloaneispunk]

thunderbolts*

bucky didn’t know he was capable of falling in love but when he received a distressing call from you, for the first time he felt something other than anger.

“you must be y/n.”

you looked up from your phone to see a familiar face.

“you’re james buchanan barnes.” you cocked your eyebrow, making him chuckle. “don’t try to persuade me into changing teams, even though i must commend the look… you’re this close to getting me on your side.” you joked.

bucky was lost for words, suddenly everything he had rehearsed disappeared from his mind. “look, i-uh just wanted to uh, warn you about valentina.”

“i know who she is and what she’s doing.” you nodded, “i don’t want to do this either, believe me if it were up to me, i would be on your side.”

that’s all bucky needed to know that now, he had an inside person exactly where he needed it.

“here, take this.” he said as he handed you a small slip of paper.

“what is it?”

“my number. call me if you need me.”

a while later

“come on, seriously? can’t you at least untie us?” yelena groaned as she and her team found themselves stuck in an old shed after bucky had initially saved their asses.

“you’re basically criminals. and until i figure out what to do with you, you’ll stay here where i can keep an eye on you.” bucky replied, rolling his eyes. “so who is this rogue vigilante you’re all talking about?”

“bob!” the thunderbolts exclaimed in unison.

“bob?”

“bob!”

just before he could resume his interrogation, his phone rang. bucky looked at the number that flashed on his phone, it was unknown. he signaled the team to quiet down then answered the phone.

“hello?-”

“bucky, it’s y/n.” your voice cut him off.

he choked. “y/n? d-did you dial the wrong number?”

“no, look, i don’t have time-valentina has something, no, someone in her possession. some guy called bob. she’s already started her manipulation and bucky, he’s dangerous…”

“are you safe?” his voice softened. in the background, a not so subtle yelena let out a snort, trying her best to stifle her laughter.

“i think valentina’s starting to catch on, but-shit! i gotta go, bucky please hel-”

then the line went dead. bucky’s hand dropped to his side, the other running through his hair as he sucked in a breath.

“what is it, soldier? your girlfriend in trouble?” yelena teased as alexi started to join in.

“reminds me of your mother and i, except i was the one always calling her for help.”

but bucky was having none of it, he stormed towards the team and started to cut the ropes off their binded hands.

“this doesn’t mean i’m letting you go. we’re just making a stop somewhere.” he muttered out.

“works for me.” ava shrugged.

at the compound

“so everyone wait for my signal and we’ll sneak in quietly pass the guards and find y/n. got it?” said yelena. “wait where’s bucky?”

suddenly, a big white delivery truck drove straight pass the team, crashing into the compound, startling everybody.

as the dust settled, bucky hopped out of the vehicle and started to march his way towards the elevator doors, leaving the rest of the team to fend off the guards.

in the elevator, bucky was nervous. he looked down at his hands to see them shaking. maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about for the past few days was in trouble because of him.

the bell dinged, signaling that it was his stop to get off. as soon as the doors opened, he drew his gun. but there was no sign of you or valentina anywhere.

“valentina!” he yelled, voice laced with anger. “i know you have y/n! let her go, this is between you and me!”

“oh, but it’s not, is it?” valentina replied. bucky’s eyes shot towards where her voice was coming from: the top of the glass stairs. but she wasn’t alone.

she too had a gun drawn, but it wasn’t at him. it was at you. slowly, she led you down the stairs step by step as bucky’s grip tightened on the gun.

“let her go valentina.” he seethed. oh now he was fuming.

“actually, you’re right. she’s no use to me, she might as well be one of you now… what a bad girl.” valentina scoffed, shoving you straight at bucky once your feet had touched the ground.

bucky faltered, one arm rushing to catch you, the other trying its best to stay focused on her. you felt bucky’s hand immediately take a hold of your arm, gently pulling you behind him.

as the tensions between the two was getting thicker with every second that passed, the elevator bell rung once more. this time it was the remaining thunderbolts.

“jesus, you work fast.” walker scoffed as they were all face to face with their common rival now.

“ah, just in time, my favourite rogue vigilantes.” the woman clapped her hands. “welcome! you’re just in time to be the first to witness my new invention… bob, honey, come here.”

everyones gaze shifted to the new person that joined the room, it was bob. but he was different.

he had an awful, way too tight comic-like costume on and bright blonde hair.

“is that bob?” yelena asked aloud.

“no lena, this is my new creation, sentry. sentry, say hi.”

“hey guys.” he nervously gave the team an awkward wave.

“enough with the bullshit valentina.” walker intervened, throwing his shield at full force in her direction.

but what happened next came as a shock to everyone. sentry had caught the shield, not only that but he had bent the metal almost into itself before throwing it back at walker, causing him to be thrown back onto his back at the force.

“did he just turn the john walker shield into a taco?” you gasped as the team charged forward, lunging at bob.

you too decided to get off your ass to assist them in the fight, drawing your gun and aiming at bobs’ legs so you would only wound him enough to slow him down.

but each and everyone’s efforts were futile as the literal god had effortlessly took them down one by one, sending the team scurrying away.

he had somehow ripped out bucky’s vibranium arm and tossed it as well as him on the floor. you ran towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and helping him up, yelena grabbing his arm on the way back to the elevator.

when the elevator door closed and you had made sure you were safe from valentina, you looked up at bucky to see that he was already looking down at you. he didn’t say a word, simply leaning towards you as your grip tightened around him, gently squeezing him to let him know that he was alright.

as everyone got to the ground floor, alexi finally broke the silence.

“did we just lose?!”

“yeah genius, we did.” ava retorted.

“he’s too strong.” bucky panted, momentarily moving away from you as he took his metal arm back from yelena, making sure he was a distance away before attaching it back.

the thunderbolts started to argue. no one understood how a seemingly timid, awkward guy like bob could turn into such a monster.

you watched the heroes yell and scream at each other, not noticing bucky walking up next to you once more.

“hey, you okay?” he asked, gently touching your arm, getting you to face him.

“i should be asking you.” you tried to lighten the mood, but there was not a single trace of a smile on his face.

“did she hurt you?” he asked once more, inspecting your face for marks or bruises. then, his eyes landed on a dark bruise on your cheekbone. he raised his hand hesitantly, waiting for your permission before he traced he bruise. “was it her?”

you nodded. “you know valentina, she doesn’t like traitors.”

bucky’s eyes soften, something tugged at his heart, it made him feel something. “i wish i could have been there sooner when you called.”

“don’t say that… i made the call, you couldn’t have stopped it.” you gave him a small smile.

bucky then took your hand, tugging at it to follow him as he sat down on the dusty floor, slumped against the wall. he patted the spot next to him in which you gladly complied.

“so what now?”

“i don’t know… but i don’t think the team’s gonna stick together after that.” he replied, pointing to the yelling and shouting that was taking place within the group not too far away.

you sighed. “well, what are you going to do, me congressman?”

he playfully rolled his eyes, scoffing. “i think i could go for a bite… wanna come along?”

“how can i say no?”

[witchygagirlwrites]

How Dare You-Part 4

Jay Halstead x Reader (nicknamed Deuce/ surname of Barlowe. No first name used)

Jay doesn’t like the cards currently dealt to him by any means or the fact that it seems someone else has the hand he craves

Warnings: talk of sex, infidelity, gun violence, people getting trapped in cement, and I think thats it??

“Yo Halstead?” Jay could feel his back teeth grind together when Davidson called his name. He stopped walking and turned to face the other man, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Yeah man, what’s up?” “What’s the background with you and Barlowe?”  He waved a hand “What do you mean?” “The way you two looked at each other when she introduced her team. The way you two continue to look at each other. How her team keeps playing keep away with her any time you get near her but the rest of us are allowed. Apparent there’s some story there. Everyone is wondering I’m just the only one with enough balls to actually ask you”

Jay scoffed “Lets see if you have enough balls to ask her. I’m not getting into it. She hates me, all you need to know. Will she let anything happen to any of you because of it? Hell no. She’s good at her job and knows what she’s doing” Davidson nodded slowly “So, good and juicy backstory then huh?” then turned and walked off. 

Jay watched him and shook his head. This was supposed to a clean slate. Trying to find his balance again and yet it seemed life wanted to fuck him over at every damn turn. He needed to find the black and white again. The balance of good guys and bad guys yet he had to face you every damn day and you were damn sure not about to give him even an inch of leadway. 

He knew he’d fucked up a lot, knew he’d changed so much from the man he once was, the man he wanted to be but damn. You wouldn’t look his way as soon as a mission was over. Your team wouldn’t let him get within three feet of you. So, he could be trusted to have your back in the field but not say two words to you outside of it? That, he found fucking stupid.

He knew what he did to you in Chicago was fucked up. He never should have lied to you about being married but damn, he hadn’t seen you in years. You owned him in a way no other woman had ever managed to. He hadn’t lied when he said letting you go was the worst thing he’d ever done, well one of now. 

He’d come clean to Hailey the next day about sleeping with you. She’d cried, yelled. Broken a few things then finally told him to get out. Two days after that he came into work and signed divorce papers were sitting on his desk.  Then that last cover up….it was just too much. He’d gone through shit too so why were you acting like you were the only one who’d dealt with shit?

Not to mention your damn attack dog Travis. He was the worst one out of your team. All of them were overly protective of you, sliding between you and him, pulling you away from him and sometimes just straight up telling him “Don’t speak to her” but Travis? That man would work shoulder to shoulder with him in the field, have his back just fine when gunfire was raining down on them then the moment everything was over and calm? He’d look like he wanted to kill him. 

What the fuck had you told your team about him? Because those looks? Those actions? They damn sure weren’t from reading his background from his first time being active in the army or from his service record in CPD. No, they were all you. 

He knew he hadn’t loved you like he should have but he did love you. Hell he still loved you, rather you would ever believe that or not. That was one thing Hailey had thrown at him “YOU NEVER MOVED PAST HER! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU MARRY ME?” he didn’t have an answer for that. Maybe because you scared him, you always had because you weren’t afraid of anything. Hell even when you were terrified you dug your heels in and went for it anyways. Now he was here and having to face you daily and wasn’t even being allowed to attempt to move forward because you wouldn’t let him.

Jay walked into the meeting that Nolan had called. You stood at the front of the room next to him with your arms crossed. Travis stood with his shoulder touching yours, both yours and his eyes tracked Jay. Nice to know he was the center of attention for some fucking reason.

Once everyone was accounted for you nodded to Nolan who cleared his throat. “For the next few weeks all of you will be working and living in close quarters. The last mission or so were closer where you could do them and get back here within a day or so. It won’t be like this now. You’ll be moving out further, pushing out into different territories. The FBI team will be provided with a vehicle and a few of you will be assigned to accompany them. There will also be a med team picked to go with all of you”

“Are we active or recon?” Jay asked and Nolan cut his eyes at you. You stepped forward, Travis watching you closely “A mixture of both actually. There are targets along the way, there’s recon points along the way. The goal is simply just to see what we can get done over the next couple weeks” 

He nodded. “Understood” you stepped back next to Nolan who looked around “Everyone get your gear in line you’ll roll out at first light”  everyone made sounds of agreement as they were dismissed. Jay heard you mutter to Travis “This is just gonna be so much fun” and Travis chuckle “Don’t worry Deuce, I got ya” 

Yeah, he bet Travis did indeed have you. He shook his head and walked out. He needed to get his own damn gear in line, not worry about whatever the hell was going on with you and your right hand man. You might be over this thing but he was still leading the squad. He had to be there for them. 

You tossed your bag into the humvee and groaned under your breath when you heard the squad joining your team on the blacktop. You actually got along pretty well with most of them. They were good soldiers, decent people. Jay was just a trigger for you personally. 

You turned to face them, cutting your eyes at your team before clearing your throat. “Davidson, Lopez, Franklin. You’ll be with me and Travis. Jones and Adams, you’ll escort our medics with Samantha and Marcel. The rest of you are with Halstead”

You looked around before locking eyes with Jay “That arrangement good with you?” he nodded slowly, holding your eyes for a few heartbeats before he finally spoke “Fine by me. Who’s leading this little convoy, Supervisory Special Agent Barlowe?” you raised an eyebrow at his tone and the fact that he used your full title. He was trying you in front of his squad and your team before going out in the field. Really? The lot of you would be living in close quarters in fucking tents and sleeping on cots or the ground for the next couples weeks and he wanted to bring out the fucking rulers as if you both didn’t know exactly what each other was bringing to the table.

“We’ll lead it, stick the medics in the middle and you can watch our six. Unless that’s not ok with you?” you asked and he shrugged “Fine by me. Remember this is your call”  “Then by all means, let’s load up and roll out. I’d like to hit the first waypoint on schedule” 

“Yes ma’am” he replied and nodded the soldiers traveling with him “You heard her, load up”

___________________

Davidson was driving the humvee, you were sitting in the front seat next to him. You were maybe half an hour from base when he cut his eyes at you “So, Barlowe. We’ve all been wondering..”  You cut him off “If the next words have anything to do with your squad leader pull over now and I’ll go ahead and throat punch you and get it over with”

Travis started laughing from his spot behind you “She means it” Davidson shook his head “Oh hell no. I’m not going there. We were wondering about the nickname Deuce” “All of you?” you asked, turning slightly to look at the other occupants of the vehicle. Lopez and Franklin both nodded. You met Travis’ eyes and he grinned “Ok, that they can know”

He laughed “Deuce is a nickname for Medusa. Long story short, we were chasing a human trafficking ring, there was a cement truck” you watched everyone’s faces as they made the connection. “I didn’t purposely mean for half of them to end up in cement but what the hell were they gonna do? Say no? Say stop?” 

Davidson grinned “Oh I like you even more now” you laughed “Good to know” 

_______________________

Jay had decided to drive, just to have something to do but sit there and overthink. There was a low murmur of different conversations happening around him. He got along with his team, hell he’d made friends with most of them. He just didn’t want to talk at the moment.  He was thinking about the fact that you’d always known Travis. You’d mentioned him even back when the two of you were together. When had you gotten this close with him? Was it when you were with him? Was it just after you’d taken the positions on the international team at the same time, which was weird enough on its own. Would he have to see Travis sneaking into your tent or vice versa? Army regs said the two of you couldn’t be in each other's tents after lights out since you weren’t married but that wasn’t like that ever stopped anyone. Everyone always found a work around to that. You would have to share with Samantha and the women in his squad. 

He didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to hold his damn tongue when it was so obvious what the hell was going on yet you’d been ready to persecute him for getting with a partner. He rotated his neck in a tight circle and Reynolds tapped his shoulder “You good Halstead?” 

He realized how tight he’d been clenching the wheel so he loosened his grip and nodded, “Yeah, I’m good” 

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alterna123

@leavemealoneplsandthx

[murphysletsdraw]

I really love the texture in your paintings!! I also use gouache but getting a nice texture with clean lines is something I've struggled with, do you have tips or specific techniques you use?

Thank you!!

Thank you so much!! I'd love to help - I'm self taught wrt painting so I have no idea if my approach will make sense to anyone else. I'll tell you what I do and why and you pick and choose whatever (if any) of my thoughts might be helpful ^^ I find that zooming in close on my subject makes textures much easier to capture, because more detail can be included without the picture looking noisy. It also saves me from having to make so many decisions (what to include, what to leave out, how to simplify and just suggest texture), but tackling every challenge at once is not a good way to learn anything. Maybe stick to close ups, or extreme close ups, to practice your textures, and then practice making judgement calls on what to include and what to leave out! Both parts are important, but they are somewhat separate concerns (IMO) I go over most areas of a painting many, many times. I build up many layers of paint, re-wet the area to blend them together, paint over it if I change my mind about something... Any "clean" line I make is often made up of 10+ strokes. I kind of creep up on detail, instead of trying to get it perfect once - I just find that the nature of the paints respond better to that. (And my hands often tremble, so that has to be accounted for) For example, the white highlights at the edges of these leaves I repainted I don't know how many times - I only made the decision to stop once I realized I was getting caught up in the joy of those movements of the wrist....

Because you can cover up areas well (at least if you cover with many layers), AND you can re-wet the paint to blend it or shape it differently, I find gouache very forgiving and I rarely start over a piece. A lot of times this messing around will bring up something fun I didn't expect, too! So I don't approach gouache like water colours, or expect a smooth surface on the paper, or paint in a style that requires anything to look good on the first stroke of the brush.

^^^ those are my palettes. I don't clean them... ever... I just wet my brush to loosen the pigment and add paint as I need it. I started working like this because I didn't feel I had the money to spend on paint, and then I built my techniques around that as I learned. So I rarely premix my paints, I usually pick whatever is closest and then mix colours on the paper. That means my focus isn't on getting the colour right, but on getting the values right. When gouache dries, it looks dull, so you have to over-shoot the mark wrt to values - make your darks darker and brights brighter. Go bold! I'll give some examples

^^^ with this painting, I think I succeeded wrt textures and values (and largely because of that, colours). I found this log in a big bush, so the light was very dappled under all those leaves. I added lots of small, very bright strokes on the bark where the sunlight landed the strongest, and kept most of the rest dark and flat-ish.

I initially added a lot of detail to the bark even in those dark areas, but then painted over them to lead the eye to the brighter areas. But since gouache doesn't give GREAT coverage, you can still see small brush strokes in there that add some texture. So it's rarely important to get things right on the first try! I think these ^^^ progress pictures do a pretty good job of showing how I tend to go back and forth on how much detail/contrast to add in any one area...

^^^ I'm not so satisfied with this painting in hindsight. My usual approach of mixing on my "canvas", lots of layering and trial and error looks muddy here and detracts from, rather than adds to, the result. The white flowers should be more uniform, bright and clean in colour, with shade added sparingly and with precision. The reds, oranges and yellows needed to be mixed fresh on a clean palette, because those were supposed to be the stars here and yellow is the most finicky colour, it can't take a beating like blue can... but I digress. The textures suffer for the same reason. Each individual flower has too much detail, too much texture, and they cancel each other out. My last piece of insight/advice is: approach textures like play. Like finding bunnies in clouds, textures suggest things, and that game of association or single-player-telephone is where you'll find YOUR approach to stylizing what you see, and how you'll share YOUR interpretation/imagination of the world with us.

^^^ the original mushrooms didn't literally have those colours, or those swoops and dots... but I saw them there, and I brought them out and exaggerated them, because I used my brush to "play mushrooms". It wasn't exactly conscious decisions, either - I didn't decide to make this shape and not that shape, I didn't look at anyone else's style or mannerisms. If it's difficult to access that confidence to play on a subconscious level, make up some exercises to bring it out consciously. DON'T go looking at other people's choices and try to incorporate them into your own "style". "Style" is only interesting when it's an expression of someone's vision, and everyone has to explore their own vision. Inspiration from other artists is most useful when it reminds you of just how much is permitted, how far you can push the boat out. I think the same goes for learning techniques from other artists. My number one piece of advice for art generally is to divide your time into just learning (practicing techniques, following guides, making studies) and just making (sitting down to create and play, with or without a plan, entering flow as quickly as possible and shutting up your inner critic wrt execution). And that goes for the details, too - if you find someone who's art you like, who can explain how they work with textures in a step-by-step way (and I might make a guide like that, but that'll have to be another day ^^), by all means try out their methods. But when you're CREATING, try not to stop and think, try not to aspire, and try not to lean too hard on other people's methods. So! That was maybe not super straight-forward or strictly on topic, but it's the best advice I can give off the cuff! If there's interest, I'd be happy to sit down and analyze my own decision making when I paint and then I'll be better able to make a how-to guide of "first this, then that". But for now, I hope these thoughts are useful, and thanks for getting me thinking on such an interesting subject!!!

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi Ice! I would love some advice on a story I'm writing and it has to do with the nuances of intersectionality between class and race and i bring a simple example that has to so with the dynamic between my Black mc and white mc.

If this is beyond the complexity of the asks you're willing to answer, of course feel free to ignore! Also i apologise in advance for any potential nuances I'm missing on the way America is structured(and my syntax..), i'm eastern European.

The setting of the story is supposed to be late 19th century america Inspired, not our universe and it's practically historical fantasy. My original intention (and current mostly) was to make it a universe where social equality is a thing as much as possible with an inclusive cast of ocs.

Just that already has its issues i feel, and most of my concerns are on the erasure of the struggles that the BIPOC communities have faced, particularly during those times.

In your opinion, would it help if i found an explanation on how everyone happened to be allowed to live an equal lifestyle? Eg 'x politician because x reason decided to make x law that decides everyone has the same rights on paper' And is that enough to touch upon the fact that hey... Not everything has been or is peachy?

Regarding Class; The thing is, the story itself ended up having quite strong themes about classism, capitalism, poverty etc. The issue that suddenly arises...is that in real life this issue intersects with so many other social issues including racism obviously.

So far i have a white character that is working class and a Black character who is a bit better off, say lower middle class and in their friendship, the latter sometimes tends to may be a little ignorant of his friend's specific experiences. It goes without saying that Black characters can be of any status and in any place in their lives, especially in a historical fantasy setting, However, i wonder if it comes off as tone-deaf presenting a Black character as less aware of the concept of poverty in practice (given that in real life, minorities are quite knowledgeable on how issues like poverty can affect their community, even in theory, even if some individuals haven't faced it directly.)

Thank you for the awesome blog and inputs!

Hm. I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I don't have like... An easy answer. I say that because unraveling race and how it figures into literally everything in the construction of the US is like... The fallout of the creation of the concept known as race is a massive domino effect 😅 Plus, putting "don't be racist" on paper versus people actually DOING that is not that easy either.

Like on the one hand, it's your story. If you say everyone in your story respected each other enough to not do everything required to create race and racism, then like... Yeah, then that's that. Me personally, I feel like that's a cop out fantasy for white folk, but again that's me. And then when we get to your part about the Black person being less aware of poverty and being schooled by your white character is like... It doesn't exist in universe sure but... Given that we already erased what actually happened... Yeah it makes me uncomfortable.

Don't get me wrong, the distance between the Black bourgeoisie and the Black working class and poor is DEFINITELY a conversation worth having, for example, and a poor white person could have something to say... but... I think given this question, this might not be something you should tackle right now. Like, you said "lower middle class" versing working class... Do you mean the working poor? Bc lower middle class is one trip and fall from poverty 😅

I have a question; why can't this just be a place not based in America? It can be influenced by it, but it doesn't HAVE to be 19th century America, Retconned. I feel like I'd be more comfortable with that idea, plus you wouldn't have to unintentionally whitewash history to do so.

[keeps-ache]

once again i am on the playlist lol

[tunedtostatic]

[Additional Image Description: On a grey background, there are five small black line art illustrations lined up across the center. The first is a sword with a hooked blade pointing upwards, the second is a hand with magic curling up out of it, the center is a castle with wavy lines extending from it into a dark sky, the third is a beaker with steam curling up from it, and the last is a shortsword pointing downwards. The sword has a few dark red shading lines. In the lower right corner of the fanmix cover is the title, "heart of my own," in dark red medieval calligraphy font. End Additional Image Description.]

HEART OF MY OWN - A FANMIX FOR CASSANDRA DE ROLO IN THE TIME OF THE BRIARWOODS

Overgrown - machineheart // Edge of the World - Within Temptation // Ashes and Rust - Wynnie Stone // Take Me Home - The Paper Kites, Nadia Reid // Nobody (Live) - The Crane Wives // The Tangled Tree - Josienne Clarke and Ben Walker // Heart Of My Own - Basia Bulat // Don't She Run - I Draw Slow // Murder City - Abigail Lapell // Until the Fire - Ladytron // Control - Halsey // Lament - Mount Moriah // Catch the Light - Haroula Rose

Fanmix on YouTube

Fanmix on Spotify

[lesbiangiratina]

Invested in a display case for my ggx tcg box cuz testament is on 1 side of it therefor it is a testament object so i want to put it with my testament stuff. But i dont want it to like fucking turn to dust. The reload boxes i have are on their own idgaf (as much) (i will still store them somewhere safe) (eventually)

[spurbleu]

neighbor!simon x reader. longer read. follow up.

your neighbor is a homebody. sort of.

he’s either never home or always home. you aren’t sure what he does, but whatever it is leaves his flat vacant for months at a time, not so much as a mouse breath breaching the thin popcorn walls that separate your rooms.

and when he is in the complex, you’d never know it. a shut in, the only give away is the muffled news channel that burrows through your moldings, or smithed footfall at ungodly hours.

the first time you caught him moving in while off to work. big bloke- and when you waved to him he stared, before lumbering into his complex. given, he was holding a large cardboard box, so you weren’t expecting him to return the greeting. but a hello would’ve been nice.

it was 4 months until you got a good look at him.

you were awake at a time you shouldn’t have been for a reason you had long forgotten. you do remember thinking you might as well do your laundry.

when you went down to the mat, there he was.

tracker fed shoulders taking up half the space, and on an inhale they took two thirds. clothes looked as though they had been dyed in pen ink and left to dry in hail. mud boots, thick legs, and the silhouette of a cauliflower ear against the fabric of his balaclava.

he glared at you like you weren’t supposed to be there. an anomaly, disturbed his routine. steel face, stone eyes, swear you’d seen the same look in your history books on the shields of greek soldiers.

it all scared you shitless, so you turned on your heel and didn’t go back until the morning. you make it a point to hustle past his door after that.

but you tend to take more than you can handle. swaddling your groceries as you wobble up the stairs, just barely there before your foot catches on the last step. produce among some of the other fragile items scattered across the tiles, and you curse under your breath.

you wouldn’t characterize yourself as a klutz, but it scrambling to collect your groceries feet from your door isn’t helping your case. the paper bags struggle against your grip, and it feels like you’re just biding your time until they all rip apart.

“you need help.”

its said more like an observation than it is a question. you turn slowly, and a goliath stands 6 feet and something over you. he sports a medical mask and a ballcap, which reveals new features- sun bleached skin that peels from the bridge of his nose to between his brows, which are thick and blonde. the left is cut in half by scar tissue and spite. if you squint you see freckles.

the night he scared you, you remembered his eyes as pitch. crow feather. under your bed.

you now see they’re the deepest shade of brown.

“i- no its fine i..” your arms do a dance with the bags, trying to keep them steady.

he grabs them both from you, and suddenly they still. its like handing squealing pigs to a farmer. built for holding them. it makes you feel weird that you like it.

“unlock the door.”

you do as you’re told and find your keys in your back pocket. fumble at the lock before opening the door and standing to the side to let him in. he nods.

sets your groceries down before gently tipping the brim of his cap. he doesn’t say anything before leaving.

and this started the strangest routine.

every week you’d get groceries, he’d be there.

the first time he was on the second flight of stairs. when you questioned how he knew you’d been shopping, he rolled his shoulders and scoffed.

“your huffin n puffin gave you away.”

he was there for four more trips. each time, you had gotten more words out of him. found out he had the driest sense of humor and a plethora of knock-knock jokes that you painfully laughed at.

he even kept up with the occasional flirt.

“yknow, you could start charging for your manual labor.”

“you rich?” he returned.

you laughed. “far from it. but this is a service, and you haven’t started making demands so…”

he stopped and stared at your back before you turned around. “so what?”

“i have to assume you just like me.”

he rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his cheek twitched under his eyes. although it was hidden by the mask, you had made him smile.

“don’t get your hopes up.”

all of it was enough for you to get comfortable. and then he wasn’t there.

the absence was strange enough to make your pace stutter when you reached the second floor, but you recovered and trekked to your room.

not without glancing at his door, though.

he must be back at work. surely he isn’t…well. he couldn’t have moved out without telling you. you aren’t close but maybe you are?

you thought so hard about it for so long that you placed your ear to the wall separating your flats.

after a few moments, you heard nothing. not even a mouse breath.

you felt foolish for being so relieved. and you kept feeling foolish for hoping he’d be there with every errand, and disappointed when he wasn’t.

it was 4 more groceries trips before you saw him again.

waiting at the entrance of the complex, crossed arms and black attire stood out like a sore thumb in the winter blight that bit at your nose with snow and temperatures below freezing. you picked up the pace.

when you got to the cement steps, you sorely regretted your decision to jog. not because it winded you, or it amplified the struggle you had with your bags, but because of the smug smile you could see crinkling the bastards cheeks under his mask.

“you missed me.”

you handed him a bag. “i missed your arms. carry that.”

you could hear the grin from behind you.

“whatever you say, sweet’eart.”

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[chastiefoul]

jjk men coming home and finding you crying

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort

gojo satoru

you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”

you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”

you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”

“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.

“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”

“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”

geto suguru

“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.

yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.

he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”

you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.

“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”

nanami kento

nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.

“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.

“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.

“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”

“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“

“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”

“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”

toji fushiguro

he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.

he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?

“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”

“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”

[silasours]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.

being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.

but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.

"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.

"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."

lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.

your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.

"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."

ʚ ALASTOR .

"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"

you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.

"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.

"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."

"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.

slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.

you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.

"the book shall wait after all."

ʚ VOX .

the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.

you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.

he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.

with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.

"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.

ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.

"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.

ʚ VALENTINO .

you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.

nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.

"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"

you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.

"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.

he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[vrystalius]

Weird petnames for the Squid Game men.

How will they react? What kind of petnames do they give you?

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x fem!reader

Summary: You giving them (three) stupid petnames, them giving you three

Genre: Pure fluff!

Note: This was a request by anon but I totally forgot to include it in this post! I hope you see this, anon!!

(Here are some HCs for them as dads and some pregnancy HCs if you’re interested!)

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

You — him -> Monopoly man.

This nickname came to be after having multiple arguments over how that smug man kept buying up all the streets on the Monopoly board game with money he seemingly pulled out of his ass. You firmly believe that he cheated, you can’t prove it though.

That’s why you started calling him Monopoly man from time to time, since he is such a god at the board game.

You — him -> Sugar daddy.

It’s on the nose and an easy way to fluster your husband, even if it’s briefly. He likes sponsoring your shopping trips and buy you whatever else you ask him to. He enjoys making you happy and prove to you that he can provide for you for the rest of your shared life and so you deem the petname Sugar daddy appropriate.

It makes him chuckle under his breath to conceal his flustered expression. His cheeks briefly turn red as he stumbles over his words, handing you another hefty sum of money to silence your teasing words. You could call it a bribery.

“Just take this and go darling.”

You — him -> Origami prince.

You keep catching him making Dakji in his free time for some reason, but if you’re lucky, you can find him fold up a family of swans or a small bouquet of differently coloured flowers. You don’t really get his obsession with that childhood game but you like to cuddle onto him and rest your legs over his lap while he makes you a bouquet of paper roses.

His fingers work quickly and smoothly without any mistakes. It’s kind of sexy to be honest.

Is it weird to get turned on by how he he folds paper? Everything that man does somehow becomes sexy.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Jackpot.

He sees you as a jackpot, a one in a million chance. Your husband considers himself extremely lucky to having found someone special and perfect like you. He sometimes jokes about how all his luck was used on you and that winning the lottery is going to be impossible (which he always knew is basically impossible to win but anyways).

Him — you -> Little devil.

You mess with his heartstrings and cloud his judgement, for better or worse. Almost like a little devil.

You also cause him a lot of trouble when it comes to worrying about you and your safety, his heart racing when you don’t text him back immediately. Again, messing with his poor heart.

Him — you -> Cherry blossom.

He saw how beautifully the cherry trees blossom during spring in Japan while watching a documentary with you one evening. The petals are fragile, soft, a beautiful pink. You kind of remind him of those small petals.

Su-bong // Thanos // Player 230

You — him -> Thanosaurus-rex

Thanos totally loves that petname. It sounds badass, intimidating even, but to you it’s more of an endearing and cutesy petname. He is strong and is intelligent if he tries, but most of the time, he’s a mushy and soft mess in your arms as you work your magic fingers through his hair.

He thinks you find him super awesome after you called him that nickname, but you use that petname ironically.

“WOMAN, C‘MERE!! Your Thanosaurus wants a well-deserved kiss!!“

You — him -> Galactic snuggle monster

It’s an accurate description. His title, Thanos, was stolen from a galactic titan and your boyfriend happens to be very snuggly and cuddly. His favourite activity is to either bedrot in your arms or drag you out to a random gig he aquired.

He prefers to act as your blanket though and completely crush you under his body. In a pleasant way of course.

You — him -> Bing bong

Bing bong is the best way to use his goverment name without making him think he’s about to get scolded by his mother. Su-bong sounds so serious, almost foreign, but Bing bong sounds stupid and makes him grin a little.

You saved him in your contacts as Bing-bong and used to use it as a codeword to talk to your friends about your boyfriend without revealing who he is during the first few weeks of your relationship.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Sprite.

Thanos was probably high the first time he called you that. He really, really craved a sprite while being on a call with you and you thought your boyfriend was calling you a soda. Your boyfriend liked the tone of it so he calls you his soda, Sprite, Spritey or Spriiiiiiiiiitttaaaaaaaaa.

Him — you -> Chili pepper.

He likes annoying and fucking with you just for the fun of it but acts all innocent after you show some slight annoyance. In response, Thanos calls you his spicy chili pepper which annoys you even more in return because he cannot take anything seriously, ever.

Him — you -> Thanos’s star.

When he uses that petname it’s probably to introduce you to someone else, referring to himself in third person and introducing you as his star, which you are. You are his star, sun, the center of his galaxy. His mind and feelings always circle around you.

Nam-gyu // Player 124

You — him -> Rat

You like calling him a rat (sometimes even a wet one) because, well, he is. Nam-gyu hoards his snacks and hides them from you, his facial structure is very rat-like, his apartment was a rat’s nest when you first moved in and after he showers, his wet hair matches that of a wet rat. Your boyfriend doesn’t like that petname at all.

Whenever you cook some dinner and Nam-gyu comes up from behind, he sometimes gives you tips to how to not burn his apartment down. Like a certain rat chef you know.

You — him -> Nom-Nom / Nam-Nam

You like chewing on his fingers sometimes, they’re quite nice to nibble and chew on. Nam-gyu didn’t like it at first, eying you from the side in confusing and slight disgust but eventually warmed up to it and even gave you his hand willingly to let you chew on his finger while he orders some take-out on his phone.

He even began getting his rings off his hands before offering you your favourite chewing toy.

You — him -> Lizard

Similar to the rat pet name, you sometimes call him a Lizard or the Lizard-man. Your boyfriend likes being called a lizard even less than being called a rat. Why do you keep giving him stupid petnames? You’re embarrassing him in front of his friends!

“Stop calling me that in public, c’mon. Sounds stupid.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

Him — you -> Turtle.

Not sure where he got that from but Nam-gyu just started calling you that one day and that nickname stuck to him ever since. It has no great backstory other than you remind him of a turtle when you steal all the blankets in the house and build yourself a makeshift nest on your bed.

The mountain of blankets remind him of the shell of a turtle. Besides, your hear sticking out doesn’t help the image.

Him — you -> Kitty.

Your boyfriend likes to “pspspsps”-you to get your attention. You perk up just like a cat when he foes that. Besides, if you call him a rat, he will call you a kitty. He‘ll sometimes even purr at you when you look especially good that day.

Him — you -> Wifey.

Even though you two aren‘t married, Nam-gyu really likes the idea of you being his wife. „Wife“ sounds very serious though— it sounds like tax benefits and a house with two kids and all that. He‘s not ready for that commitment just yet, so your boyfriend will call you his Wifey instead.

He always refers to you as his Wifey in front of his friends and others so that they know that his heart is yours, as much as yours is his.

Dae-ho // Player 388

You — him -> The nibbler.

The “The” is for dramatic effect. Dae-ho is obsessed with biting and nibbling any area of your body that seems convenient enough in the moment to chomp on. His favorite area is your nose, jaw, shoulder, fingers and hands. It‘s pretty random but does it most of the time when nervous about something or sleepy and in your arms.

The nibbler likes his nickname a lot, by the way. He sometimes jokes about you being his favorite chewing toy or candy while you eye the bite mark he left on your arm.

You — him -> (chicken) nugget.

To you, your boyfriend is just a cutie patootie, a mature man that has the heart of a golden retriever. You like calling him your chicken nugget because of how his facial structure kinda reminds you one. Dae-ho gets flustered whenever you call him that though.

Nugget is the shorter version of a petname you like to use, mostly in public or during texts. Chicken nugget you like to use when you two are together at home or to tease him.

You — him -> Bunny.

You first wanted to use Tiger as a petname since part of his name means Tiger, but you actually found out how much of a Bunny he actually is. He doesn’t like being left alone and on his own for too long, when he pouts he looks like one, the color of his blush looks like the nose of one and he certainly has the sex drive of one.

Being called Bunny makes him both embarrassed and flustered. He both hates and loves that petname you gave him.

“Isn‘t Bunny too cute of a name for me? Like.. it doesn't really fit, does it?“

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Him — you -> Cupid.

You shot an arrow through his heart the moment he saw and met you for the first time. Even if the name isn‘t 100% accurate since with that logic you would‘ve also shot yourself with an arrow to fall for him too, but Dae-ho likes calling you his cupid.

Him — you -> Tiger.

It‘s a play on his name and how maybe when you two marry in the future you can share part of it with him. Once he scraps the damn money together to buy you a proper ring and maybe save a little money for a nice wedding and honeymoon.

Maybe Dae-ho should give the card he got from that weird salesman a call and participate in these games for money. What could go wrong?

Him — you -> Tofu.

Since he is your personal nibbler, you are his tofu. That way he can justify his need to bite and nibble on you.

Gi-hun // Player 456

You — him -> Heartbreaker.

You playfully call him that. Gi-hun is a little insecure about his age, his divorce, his whole life too, and how much younger and naive you are, thinking a lot about how he is not the most suitable lover for a young woman like you.

You like calling him a heartbreaker in a ironic way almost. You find it cute how he huffs when you call him that.

You — him -> Raccoon.

In the most respectful way possible, you sometimes think that Gi-hun looks like a raccoon. His hair is so fluffy like fur, his eyes get so big when you scold him for something and you sometimes catch him digging through an old pile of dirty clothes to find to wear, like a raccoon digging through trash.

You sigh everytime you go into the kitchen and catch your boyfriend dig through the fridge, trying to find something that isn‘t expired and doesn‘t need to be cooked into a meal.

You love your raccoon of a man, though. Although you have to admit that sometimes he resembles more of a hamster the way his cheeks fill up with food so adorably.

You — him -> Noodle.

His build is is flimsy and he resembles a spaghetti noodle. You like calling him your noodle, it‘s cute, short and endearing. Gi-hun thinks calling him a noodle is a little childish but he would never reject your petnames.

„Seriously? Noodle? Y‘know, other women call their boyfriends honey and stuff. Noodle sounds like an insult!“

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Him — you -> Angel.

You are his angel, his savior, his saint and light. It‘s only fitting to call you his angel. Even if he mostly addresses you that way when he is about to ask you for a little bit of money to afford the groceries his mother send him out to get.

He gambled the money his mom gave him away and bet on horses, but you don‘t have to know that.

Him — you -> Koala.

Gi-hun grins like a Highschool boy whenever you cling onto him like a cute koala for cuddles. That‘s where he got the name from in the first place.

Him — you -> Peanut.

Random but cute nonetheless. He likes to pull on your cheek and coo at you and how adorable you look when you pout or are annoyed. To annoy you even further, he calls you a cute little peanut.

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

You — him -> In-ho-tato.

Back when you first met him, In-ho liked to style his hair slicked back and containing multiple ounces of hairgel. The way his hair was styled and his grumpy facial expression made him look a potato of sorts.

Calling him a potato outright might confuse him or even make him a little upset, so you call him In-ho-tato. That‘s how you saved him in your contacts too. He doesn‘t know the origin of the petname but it has a nice ring to it, so your husband doesn‘t mind.

“You‘re quite creative with your words. Care to explain their origins?“

You — him -> Gramps.

You call him Gramps whenever he struggles with something. Can‘t open a jar of pickles? Old man. Complains about back pain after waking up? Gramps. Gets annoyed with one of his pink guards? Grandpa.

In-ho hates it. He glares at you from the side every time you call him those things. Your husband never stops you though, as long as you‘re having fun.

You — him -> Huffster.

You began to notice how many times and how much he groans, huffs and sighs when he‘s at work. It‘s mostly under the mask but you notice it anyway. When his mask is off, massaging his temple and bridge of his nose goes hand in hand with letting out an exhausted sigh at the incompetence of the players of this year‘s games.

Naturally, want to make him feel better whenever In-ho feels stressed or exhausted and for some reason calling him a huffster makes him give you a small, fond smile. Your husband never being here simply makes everything better.

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Him — you -> Snuggle tyrant.

You are a very demanding tyrant when it comes to cuddles. You drag him out of his study or control center just to have him all for yourself in bed. A little selfish, isn‘t it? True tyranny to give him orders like that.

Him — you -> Boss lady.

Sure In-ho is the Frontman and all but you are still his boss in a way. You remind him to drink, sleep, eat, give him orders to rest for the night and to shave every once in a while. You are his boss lady, so the petname is very fitting.

Also, the workers and soldiers also see as some kind of boss of their boss. Thanks to you, multiple of their lives were saved by you scolding the Frontman in the middle of the control center, reminding him to be a little more lenient and merciful for breaking rules.

Him — you -> Sugar baby.

It‘s rather self explanatory. In-ho likes to refer to you as his sugar baby by the way he throws his money at you whenever you even look at an item. He is more than happy to sponsor you with a new helicopter to reach the mainland, a new credit card to spend on online shopping and whatever else you want.

Even if you aren‘t his full time sugar baby, he likes to treat you like one.

💠

Author‘s note. Thank you for reading!

First of all, thank you for giving my last Squid Game men post so much love!! It got like 1000 notes in two days, so thank you <33 Also, I really want to show my private art again. I haven‘t done that since I had 200 followers, so like last September was my last art dump. I‘m really into creating clay figures and painting masks, so I‘m not sure if you all would be into that. On one side, some people may just be here for the fics and get annoyed if I don‘t post that but on the other are people who may be genuinely interested :,)

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33 Stay safe!