#but i like a couple little pieces in it so [hits post]

[keeps-ache]

we didn't have internet yesterday so i was playing with this music box app i found :>

[robinsfilm]

TANGLED IN RED

pairing: jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

synopsis: you wrap yourself up in jason's red jacket, and he finds it endearing.

warnings: fluff, rushed writing, proofread like only once (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

word count: 0.8k.

notes: i wrote this post-surgery recovery so i get a pass on any mistakes thank you :⁠-⁠P cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft, but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the merigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sifted through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You'd have me ditch the pants too, wouldn't you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Nevermind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his around you. You melt into his hold, but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you'll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn't seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can't seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don't plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

*****

Maybe it's the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn't even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you, and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn't feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small, but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite of you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can't help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—his red you tangle yourself in.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[midastouch013]

Scars and All

Based on this request

Summary: You and Natasha have been dating for almost a year, and so what happens when you finally find out why things never get steamy

Warnings: Insecurity, Scars, Flashbacks of Redroom. Super soft Nat.

---

You and Natasha had been dating for close to a year now, having moved in a month ago to the floor Tony had given the both of you happy to see his, and you quote ' favourite spider' so in love, and though your relationship was incredible in so many ways, there was one aspect that sometimes caused a bit of frustration. Every time things got a little bit steamy, Natasha would freeze up. And every time it left you confused, more than before with every occurrence.

It happened again tonight. You were tangled up in each other, lips locked in a passionate kiss, hands exploring, when Natasha suddenly pulled back, her breath uneven.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You froze, your heart pounding. You were frustrated, sure, but you respected Natasha enough to honor her wishes. With a heavy sigh, you pulled away, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice.

She nodded, avoiding your gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… not feeling it right now."

You couldn't help but feel disappointed, but you didn't want to show it. Instead, you forced a small smile and said, "Okay. I'm just gonna… take a cold shower then."

Without waiting for a response, you got up and made your way to the bathroom, leaving Natasha alone on the bed.

The cold water did little to wash away your disappointment. You couldn't shake the feeling of frustration, unable to understand why Natasha kept pulling away.

After what felt like an eternity under the icy spray, you finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As you dried off and got dressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you found Natasha lost in her own world, her eyes unfocused as she begged someone she had only told you about once, Madame B, not to hit her.

Your heart broke at the sight. You knew Natasha was reliving a moment from her past, a nightmare from her time in the Red Room. Without a second thought, you crossed the room and enveloped her in a tight hug, hoping to ground her in the present, having it done many times previously.

"Nat, it's me," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "You're safe now. You're with me."

Slowly, Natasha's breathing began to steady, and the tension in her body started to ease. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she struggled to break free from the memories that haunted her.

You held her close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance until she finally began to relax in your arms.

After Natasha falls asleep in your arms, you gently tuck her under the covers, making sure she's comfortable. With a lingering glance, you quietly slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You make your way downstairs and pull out your phone, dialing Yelena's number. She picks up after a couple of rings.

"Hey," she says, her voice filled with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitate for a moment, not sure how to explain what just happened with Natasha.

"Not really," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Nat had a flashback… to the Red Room, I think."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Yelena speaks again. "Is she okay now?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping," you reply. "But… I don't know what to do, Yelena. Every time things start to get… intimate, she freezes up. I can't shake the feeling that it's connected somehow."

There's a thoughtful silence before Yelena speaks again. "Does my sestra shower with the door closed?"

You frown, confused by the seemingly random question. "Uh, yeah, she does. Why?"

Yelena hums thoughtfully. "And does she ever… mention anything about about her post-missions "

Your heart skips a beat as the pieces start to click into place. "No, she doesn't even let me see her till she's in pajamas. Why?"

Yelena lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I think… Y/n, you're pretty smart, so I'm surprised I have to be telling you this, but my sister is insecure about something. And maybe, just maybe, that's why she keeps pulling away."

"But what insecurity?" you question," She-"

Before you can say anything else, Yelena interrupts you. "Sorry, I have to go. Kate's calling me. Just… be there for her, okay? She needs you."

After Yelena hangs up, more incidents with Natasha flash through your mind. Little moments that, when looked at together, begin to form a pattern. And suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Natasha's insecurity is about her scars.

Just as you're connecting the dots, Natasha comes downstairs to grab something to eat. Wordlessly, you grab her by the hips and lift her up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she squeals, trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

Ignoring her protests, you carry her back upstairs to your room. Once there, you gently set her down on the edge of the bed, ignoring her playful protests.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

You don't answer right away. Instead, you kneel down on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in yours.

"Tasha, I love you," you begin, your voice steady. "And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I know… I know that something happened tonight, something that triggered a flashback. And I think… I think I know what it is."

Natasha's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she looks like she might bolt. But then she takes a deep breath and meets your gaze.

"You do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, squeezing her hands gently while taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. "Natasha, do you not like your scars?" you ask gently.

Natasha's defenses go up immediately, and she tries to deflect the situation with humor. "What, these old things?" she says, gesturing to her scars with a forced smirk. "Just battle wounds, nothing to worry about."

But you're firm in your resolve. You don't let her deflect this time. "Nat, please," you say, your voice pleading. "I need you to be honest with me."

She sighs, the forced smile slipping from her face. "Fine," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine, you want the truth? I hate them, okay? I hate the way they look. I hate what they remind me of."

Your heart breaks at her words, but you keep your voice steady. "Why, Nat? Why do you hate them so much?"

And then she confesses, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid that when you see them, you'll finally realize that you're dating a monster. A cold-blooded murderer. I'm afraid that you'll look at me and see nothing but a killer. And I love you so much, and I don't want to lose you. But I'm afraid that these scars will scare you away. That I don't look… sexy with my scars and all."

Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, and you feel your heart breaking all over again.

You feel a surge of anger and hurt at Natasha's admission. How could she think of herself like that? And how could she think that you would ever see her that way?

"You really think that?" you say, your voice coming out a bit harsher than you intended. "That I would see you like that? That I would ever think of you as a monster? God, Natasha, how could you even think that?"

Natasha flinches at your words, and for a moment, you regret the harshness of your tone. But then you take a deep breath and soften your voice.

"I'm sorry, It wasn't supposed to sound so rude, but… I get it, Nat," you continue, your voice gentle now. "I get that you're scared. And I understand why you feel that way. Even if I've not been through what you've been through, I'd like to think that I get it. But you need to know that I love you, scars and all. And I would never, ever think of you as anything less than amazing."

You feel Natasha's arms tighten around you, and you know that she's listening, really listening, to what you're saying.

"And another thing," you add, your voice firm now. "You need to stop calling yourself those hateful things. You are not a monster, Natasha. You are not a cold-blooded murderer. You are a hero, you are the role model to millions of kids out there, and you're my girlfriend. There's no way in hell could you be what you claim to be. Don't you ever forget that."

Natasha doesn't say anything in response, and for a moment, you worry that you've pushed her too far. But then she pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for… for loving me, scars and all."

You shush her with a gentle finger to her lips. " What have I told you about that?" you ask in a tutting tone.

She chuckled breathily, a faint smile on her face " Never thank you unless I don't want dinner that night"

You look into Natasha's eyes, your heart overflowing with love and reassurance. Without saying a word, you lift her (Well yours, but anything that was yours was hers) t-shirt and leant in to press a gentle kiss to one of her scars, then another, and another, until you'd kissed each one.

Each kiss is an act of reassurance, a silent declaration of how beautiful and attractive you find her scars. And with each kiss, you feel Natasha's tension slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of peace and acceptance.

When you finally pull back, Natasha is looking at you with tear-filled eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I love you" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

" I love you more"

"Willing to bet on it?"

--

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.

[ellecdc]

hey, love! sooo i have a request (and im more than willing to wait for it, absolutely no rush). i'm having surgery in a couple weeks and it's nothing like life threatening or super serious but it's still a little scary and it's something that's going to make my very stubbornly independent self need to be dependent on other people for like two or three months. so i was wondering if you could do stubborn/independent reader in recovery, being taken care of by remus and or regulus cause i know they'd be very sweet and maybe a bit too helpful, like maybe reader even tries to do things that they aren't ready for yet because it's frustrating needing to rely on others but theres reassurance that it's fine to need help and it's better to take the help in order to have a quicker and better recovery. wanted to keep details vague so you can work your magic but i hope at least a little inspiring

lot of love!!! 🫶🫶🫶

best of luck with your surgery, love! hope it all goes well <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who is recovering from surgery not at all gracefully

CW: reader is stubbornly independent, discussion of surgery/post-op aftercare/stitches and incisions, fluff and comfort

By some absolute twist of fate, you’d actually been left alone for the first time in nearly five days.

You were unbelievably thankful for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends and the amount of care they treated you with.

But however thankful you were for your two sweet, sweet boyfriends, you were also quite fed up with their coddling. 

You’re not sure what exactly it was that finally got them to leave you alone; it could have been your sharp tone when you told Regulus you didn’t want your pillows fluffed again, or the withering glare you gave Remus when he poked his head in to ask if you needed “anything else at all, sweet girl”, but you were almost certain it was when you finally dissolved into frustrated tears.

And so, five days after your appendectomy, you were finally, blissfully alone. 

You had tissues on the bed beside you, the largest bottle of water Regulus could find on the bedside table, your books, the TV remote, and some crisps at your disposal. 

It was heavenly.

But you know what would be even better? Ice cream. 

In the two days you spent in hospital following your procedure, Regulus had to have spent nearly half your monthly rent on food, snacks, blankets, and other “post-surgery supplies” - which included the largest refillable water bottle you’d ever seen in your entire life. 

It also included ice cream. 

And while the boys had left the majority of your post-surgery supplies within your reach upon their retreat from your bedroom, ice cream could not, for obvious reasons, be left in your bedroom for your easy access.

But what were you going to do? Call them? Ask them to come bring you ice cream? And have to live with their smug ‘haha, see, you do need us’ faces? Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. 

It had been four days since your surgery which left you with perhaps nothing more than a few teeny incisions along your stomach that they slapped a measly piece of tape over to keep shut - like hell that was going to slow you down. 

So, you pushed your blankets off yourself with minimal effort. You took a deep breath and held it as you swiveled your hips so that your legs were hanging off the bed, letting it out as you twisted your torso to realign your body correctly. Not so bad, right?

You braced yourself again as you slid slowly off the bed, once again letting a lung-full of air out as your feet hit the ground.

Feeling quite chuffed at your accomplishment and unjustifiably confident that the hardest part was now over, you started on your task of retrieving ice cream. 

You reminded yourself as you shuffled down the hallway that the doctor had said that walking each day was in fact good for your recovery, though you were certain that supporting yourself along the wall and unsupervised isn’t exactly what she had in mind when she gave you those instructions.

No matter, you were completely capable!

So capable.

The most capable.

And a measly case of stairs wasn’t going to change that. 

You tried to recite the aftercare instructions the doctor had given you prior to being discharged, though you were admittedly still feeling a little drowsy at the time and it had been Remus who took dutiful notes as Regulus packed your bag.

Staring at the case of stairs that threatened your master plan of retrieving your well-deserved ice cream - in your most humble opinion, you did sacrifice an organ for it - you decided that if you couldn’t remember the doctor saying no stairs, that stairs were probably fine.

Likely fine.

Mostly fine.

Except the very first step you took had you flinching at the sensation of the tape tugging uncomfortably at your skin.

But once your other foot joined your first on the step, the feeling went away.

Okay, see? That was fine.

Not so bad.

Now you just have to do that… thirteen more times.

Thirteen…that felt like a lot.

But you weren’t supposed to look at obstacles in terms of wholes; you just needed to look at the next step.

Which was exactly one step.

You had already taken a step! Surely you could take one more!

Except a small whimper escaped your lips as you took your next step, your second foot joining the first rather quickly and clumsily in a hasty attempt to relieve you from the tugging of your taped up abdomen. 

You had managed to wash, rinse, and repeat those steps for exactly six stairs before you started to wonder if the ice cream was really actually worth ripping your stomach back open. 

You were eight steps away from the lower level of your townhouse, and six steps from the upper level where your salvation came in the form of your bedroom. 

You had three options here:

1) Continue in your trek down the rest of the eight steps to your ice cream - dreams of ever returning to your bed be damned 2) Retreat to the safety of your bedroom and figure out how to haul yourself up onto the mattress  3) Ask for help 

Still feeling rather petulant over the fact that you were very close to having to live through Remus and Regulus’ “I told you so” faces, you opted for option two, and pivoted on the stair in an attempt to retreat back to your bedroom. 

Which would have been fine if the action of lifting your leg didn’t actually leave you feeling like the rest of your organs were about to spill out onto the staircase (which was very dramatic considering you weren’t even sure you could fit your own finger into the tiny holes dotting your abdomen if you tried; but that’s how it felt, okay?) 

So, in the face of failure, you opted to choose a secret fourth option:

4) Sit on the staircase in defeat and accept your fate (death, probably) 

“I’ll check, but if she throws a book at my face, you’re in charge of dinner.” You heard Remus call as he rounded the corner and started for the stairs. 

You had your forehead resting on the spindles of the railing and watched as Remus made it up the first section of stairs to the landing before pausing when he turned and noticed you.

“Dovey! Are you okay?” He whispered in abject horror, bending down (causing his knees to crack audibly which made you feel even more wretched for worrying him) as he considered you.

“I’m fine.” You whined, hoping to gain some sympathy in your current state.

“What are you doing here?!” He continued, rubbing his thumb along your shoulder. 

“Wanted ice cream…” You admitted rather reluctantly; shame prickled at your skin as Remus paused in his movements and his expression shifted from worry to one of shock. 

His mouth flattened into a terse smile. “You’re kidding me.”

‘I really, really wish I was’ you thought to yourself.

Apparently, your response read loud and clear on your face as he let out a tired sigh. “Reg!”

You felt your own expression morph from shame to one of betrayal. “Now, why would you do that!?”

Remus barely had a chance to roll his eyes at you as Regulus appeared around the corner. 

“Mon Dieu! Ce qui s’est passé?! Are you okay!?” He exclaimed as he spotted you sitting dejectedly on the stairs. 

“I’m fine.” You answered at the same time Remus replied “She’s stuck.”

“What were you doing?” Regulus asked again, looking between you and Remus in bemusement. 

“Being a brat.” Remus hissed quietly; his tone bordering frustration in a way you weren’t accustomed to being directed at you even as his touch remained loving and dutiful. 

Horrified, you felt your sinus’ fill painfully as you hid your face between the spindles of the railing, blocking both boys from your view. 

“I’m tired of being useless.” You whispered; your voice pinching audibly as your words nearly got stuck in your throat. 

Remus let out a sigh as he let his one hand slide from your shoulder down to your hand, and the other rubbed at your knee affectionately. 

“You’re not useless, mon amour; you’re recovering.”

“From a pretty major surgery, at that.” Remus added, earning him a derisive scoff from you.

“It’s not major surgery! It’s  a very routine procedure and it barely left a mark on me.” You spat; recounting the doctors words from before your surgery nearly word for word. 

“Ça suffit. An entire organ tried to kill you, amour, and it had to be removed.” Regulus offered.

“It was a stupid organ that we don’t even use anymore.” You added petulantly. 

“And it was ripped from you nonetheless, dove. Listen,” Remus continued, taking your chin in his hand and directing your eyes back to him. “I know, I know you hate feeling reliant on us, and I also know that we like letting you rely on us perhaps a bit too much.” He paused to raise his eyebrows at you and you took in a shuddering breath. “But I think right now is one of those times you have to let us.” 

You let an embarrassing sound escape the back of your throat as you tried to avert your gaze, but Remus strengthened his hold on your chin. 

“You have to let us, baby.” He whispered again. 

“My love, if you insist on doing things before you’re ready, you’re only going to hurt yourself which is going to mean you have to rely on us even longer.” Regulus continued as he sat beside you on the step, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and trailing his finger down your neck. 

“You wouldn’t want that now, would you?” Remus asked teasingly; one corner of his lips tilting upwards and pulling at the scar that you loved to watch dance across his face when he was most expressive. 

You lifted your hand to run your finger along it, delighting in the slight blush that flooded Remus’ cheeks as he closed his eyes and relished in your touch. 

“Qu’est-ce que tu voulais?” Regulus asked you then.

You let out a sigh in resignation and tilted your head to rest on Regulus’ shoulder. “Ice cream.”

Your head jostled from the gentle chuckle that left Reg at your admission as Remus beamed at you. 

“Well, why didn’t you just ask?” He teased as he stood quickly - telling yourself that you weren’t jealous at all by his ability to move quickly and freely. “Wanna help our princess back to bed, my love?” Remus asked Regulus who was already standing and offering you his hands. 

They both helped you stand and allowed you a moment to catch your breath and confirm you were alright before Regulus moved two steps below and got into position to give you a piggy-back-ride.

Remus waited until the two of you got to the top of the stairs safely before hurrying to the kitchen to procure your long awaited ice cream. 

What would have likely taken you all day (had you been successful in your venture) took Regulus and Remus perhaps six and a half minutes before the three of you were propped up in your bed, each with a bowl of ice cream as Remus queued up your favourite movie. 

“Merci, amour.” Regulus whispered into your hair before pressing a kiss to your head.

“What for?” You asked.

He smiled softly at you as he examined your face. “For letting us love on you.” 

“It really is our favourite, you know?” Remus added.

And fortunately for you, you did know.

[miragemurder]

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★��

Secret

Part 2 of Spotlight

Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Make out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A continuation of the oneshot, Spotlight.

For the people who asked. <3 ★ ★ ★

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A few weeks had passed since you last been at the club with your friend. So much had happened in that one day, it felt like you just rode the craziest roller coaster in the world. After the party, you and your friend spent the rest of the night giggling and fawning over the guy you just met. He wasn’t just some guy though, he was the Veneer.

You laid back in your bed, head softly hitting the pillow behind you as you pick up your phone from the side table. Today was a relaxing day as you didn’t have anything planned for today, so why not just lay back and go on your favorite social media. You clicked on an app and doom scrolled for a little bit. Most of the posts you saw were just of people going crazy about the latest stars and their new albums. You sighed and kept scrolling, not really interested in other people’s “fangirling.”

You stopped on a post that really struck your interest. It was a post of Velvet and Veneer. You didn’t even know they had social media let alone allowed to because of their agencies. You continued watching the video as they were announcing their touring schedule and meet ups. That’s when your brain clicked. You had Veneer’s number.

You got up from bed and scurried to your dresser, opening up a drawer and picking up the crumbled piece of paper that had his contact information. You took in a deep breath as you opened up the message app on your phone and dialed in his number. You decided to keep it simple and type in a little “Hey, its [_____]”

You dropped your phone on top of your dresser and paced around your room, anxiety getting the best of you. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, it was one simple text. You felt like you were about to pass out until you heard a buzz. You ran over to your phone and read the message.

“Oh hey! I didn’t think you were actually gonna send a text. Had me worried lol.” He sent a little laugh emoji next to his message.

You sighed deeply, all the worry draining from your body as you sent him a reply.

“Heh yeah, I eventually gained the courage lol”

You slightly cringed at the text as you sent it. You waited a couple of minutes for a response until you heard the vibration coming from your phone. He was trying to call you. You panicked and quickly picked up the phone.

“Hey sorry for the incoming call. It’s so much easier just to talk than having to type out everything. How were you lately?” He asked.

“Oh I’ve been good, just relaxing at home and sometimes going out everyone once in a while.” You sighed and smiled. You were nervous and excited all at once, you just hoped he couldn’t hear any of it.

“I wanted to invite you over to one of our meet and greets at the Rage Dome tomorrow, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” He questioned.

You quickly looked at the calendar you had hanging up on your wall. It’s not like you had anything planned but you liked to check.

“Nope! I should be free tomorrow.” You said, a little bit of your excitement coming out.

“Great, can’t wait to see you there.” He softly laughed at your excitement, making you fluster.

“Ugh, crimp is pestering at the moment. I’ll call you back when I can, bye.” He dragged out the bye and hung up. You sighed and laid back on top of your bed. You really were down bad for this guy.

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The next day rolls around and you slowly get up and stretch. You smiled to yourself, remembering that you get to see him today. You get up to go take a shower and fix your hair. You set the shower to be a nice warm temp and started stripping. You hopped in and quickly cleaned yourself, not wanting to spend forever in the shower. You quickly got out and got dressed, picking out your best formal outfit you can find. Yes, it is a meet and greet but you still wanted to look good for him.

You finished up your final touches when your phone started vibrating again. You picked up your phone and answered the call.

“How is my number one fan doing this fine morning?” He laughed. You laughed with him.

“I’m doing good, just finished getting ready for the day. How about you?” You asked, leaving the bathroom and sitting down on your bed.

“I’m doing alright. Honestly, I am way too tired to be getting ready right now but what can I say. Crimps already all up in my hair about the meet and greet. I don’t know why she’s so worried, the meet and greet doesn’t start until six.” He groaned. You can practically hear him roll his eyes at the end of his sentence.

“Well, I wish you luck.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He paused for a moment until he continued. “What if you come an hour earlier so we can meet up beforehand? In private.”

You flustered a dark red. There was no way he just asked you to meet up IN PRIVATE.

“Uh yeah that would be great!” Your voice almost trembled because of your nerves. There is no way that this was actually happening.

“Great, I’ll see you at five.” He hung up. You sat at your bed, shocked. You slowly went downstairs and went into your living room, filling in time until it was ready to go.

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You stepped inside the Rage Dome and were almost blinded by all the lights they had going on. You were about to pull out your phone until you saw someone approaching you.

“Hey you made it!” Veneer cheered, spreading out his arms to wrap you into a hug.

“Yeah, I was just about to ask you where to go.” You chuckled and so did he.

“Let’s go on back to my break room. I don’t want anyone seeing us out here. I’m not ready for all the paparazzi.” He shuttered sarcastically.

He walked you back to where all the breakrooms were. The rooms were for the celebrities to take breaks in, just in case they needed to fix their appearance or if the crowd was being too much. Once you walked in you noticed that Velvet wasn’t there.

“Where’s Velvet?” You asked, scanning the room.

“Oh she’s getting ready in another room. They gave us separate rooms which I kind of enjoy.” He smiled and looked at you.

“Can I just say something real quick? Your outfit is gorgeous.” He complimented. You smiled, blushing a little.

“Thank you, I didn’t think you would care that much.” You said with an awkward smile.

“It looks really good on you.” He stared into your eyes. You felt like you were about to explode with how close you too were. He slightly pulled you over to the couch and sat you down, him sitting right next to you.

He gently touched the side of your face with his hand, still staring longingly into your eyes. He slightly looked down at your lips and back up again before asking something.

“Can I..” He spoke hesitantly, leaning closer. You followed his actions and leaned in. He brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear and quickly closed the gap between you two. Your eyes fluttered closed as you two both enjoyed each other’s presence.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hand slowly moving through his hair. He deepened the kiss, his other hand grabbing your hips and moving you closer. He pulled back for a quick second to give you guys some time to breathe. His hair was a mess and his eyes were half-lidded. He was breathing heavily. You took in the sight, making sure to keep it ingrained in your memory.

“That was…” He looked down into your gaze. You smiled slightly and pulled him back in for another kiss. You laid down on the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him on top. You continued making out for what felt like forever until you heard some foot steps from down the hall. You guys hurriedly got up and brushed yourself off, making sure it looked like nothing happened.

You were just about to walk out the door before Veneer put his hand on your shoulder.

“We can…keep this….as our little secret.”

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Aye! I made a part two! I hope you guys enjoyed this. I tried to keep it as Pg-13 as possible since he is a teenager. He’s still a little out of character but eh, what are you gonna do. Anyways, leave requests down in the comments!

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[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh my god post-prison spencer and sunshine!reader is my new favorite 🥹

Can I request how spencer would react if something goes wrong in one of their cases and reader is held hostage/taken? I imagine she would be shaken ofc and spencer would comfort her after

canon level violence, reader has dislocated her shoulder and was concussed while also trying to fight off the feelings that are rapidly developing for spencer, and spencer doesn't give a fuck about her fighting their attraction

“Unlock the door, Y/n.” Spencer’s outside your door, he has been for the last couple of days. You’d been injured in the field, a concussion and a dislocated shoulder that had come from the unsub taking you during what would’ve been his take down. 

You’d been dispatched from the hospital last week after being less than attractive to the doctor who wanted to keep you there for longer. 

You’d answered texts and calls from your co-workers, but you’d been ignoring Spencer. 

“Go away Spencer, you’re supposed to be in Nebraska.” you were consulting on a case the team is currently on, so he can’t lie. 

He doesn’t try to, like you’d suspected, “I asked Emily to stay behind, you aren’t doing well.” 

You sigh on the other side of the door, relenting because you know that he won’t leave. 

“How can I help you?” You’re a little less than polite, but Spencer doesn’t seem to care. He knows what it’s like to be sidelined from the team due to injury and be upset about it. 

“Well first, you can let me in, I may look strong but these arms were not made to hold more than five bags at a time.” he’s as tender as he always is and it softens you. 

Stepping aside, you let Spencer in. Your apartment is clean, you’ve been surviving off delivery breakfasts and take out lunches, you can’t raise your hand high, so cooking is a no. 

You’re not worried about your attire, you’re in a green tank top with ’save the planet’ embroidered in cursive with a sick earth just beneath it, and a pair of cotton shorts that hit just above your knee- the heat in the city was driving you crazy and you also didn’t have the energy to try for more clothes- certainly not without upsetting your shoulder some more.

If Spencer is surprised by your outfit, he says nothing. You’re hardly surprised by his, a purple shirt tucked neatly into his dress pants and smart shoes; you’re not sure how he’s managed a perfect outfit in this heat.

Spencer sets the bags down and begins the task of taking out all the things inside- he pulls out packages of various nuts, passion fruit juices and a mountain of those clear, plastic bowls filled with fruit. 

“You didn’t have to buy pre-cut fruit; I know it’s more expensive that way.” You say to him, finding a bit of trouble pushing yourself into the chair you have at your kitchen island. 

Spencer sets down the plastic bags and moves around the countertop to help you, “I cut them myself, they didn’t have the ones you like in the grocery store.” 

You’re stunned silent, the bowls are full of watermelon, cantaloupes, orange quarters, mangoes, grapes and pineapple. All your favourites cut exactly the way you liked. Spencer must’ve spent around a hundred dollars just getting the fruit alone, maybe even more if the number of grapes is anything to go off of. 

“Spencer, you didn't have to.” He shrugs, his eyes searching your face. 

“How’s your head? Have you been feeling dizzy or having double vision?” It’s not easy to lie to Spencer, doubly so when he’s standing before you and staring at you so intensely. 

“The dizziness comes and goes, mostly when I’m in the shower.” You say honestly, and Spencer frowns. 

“You could’ve told me,” you blow a raspberry and pull the bowl full of mangoes towards you. 

“You would’ve made me go back to the hospital; I don’t like the smell of them.” you chew on a piece of mango while Spencer carries on assessing you. 

He notes that the mottling on your shoulder has gone down significantly, now it’s just purple and a little blue. Your eyes don’t appear unfocused, and Spencer is glad for it. “I wouldn’t have.”

“So, what’s your verdict, Doc?” you ask, shutting the lid on the mangoes before you burn through the entire container. 

“You’re not concussed, I think your dizziness in the shower is from you moving your shoulder too much and agitating it.” Spencer presses a light fingertip into the bruised skin and you hiss, batting his hand away making him laugh. 

You hum, “So what? I just never shower again? In the middle of this heatwave? I’d rather die.”  

“I forget how dramatic you can be.” Spencer shakes his head, “Or, you could’ve called me, or Penelope and either one of us could’ve given you a sponge bath.” 

You make your eyebrows dance, “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you Spence?” He rolls his eyes, tugging on the braid your hair is in. 

“How’d you do that?” he asks, helping you off the chair and leading you into your kitchen. 

Your face is red hot, “I bribed my neighbour’s kid to do it for pumpkin bread the minute my arm is out the sling.” 

Of course you did, you might be sunshine incarnate, but Spencer knows everyone has a spot they don’t want others to see- this is yours. You don’t want anyone in your team viewing you as incapable or in need when they should see you as capable and able to do every facet of your job. 

“I can help you make the bread tonight if you want something to do when the case is over.” 

You tilt your head, watching Spencer look around your cupboards for a glass. “Top left cabinet,” you say and he nods, smiling when he finds a glass covered in stickered ladybugs. 

Spencer fills it almost to the top with passion fruit juice and passes it to you. 

“Are you staying the night, Spencer Reid?” you take a sip and sigh in delight, it’s been a while since you’ve had passion fruit juice, you’re not entirely sure how Spencer knew it was your favourite. 

“If you let me, it isn’t good for you to be by yourself and the more you strain your shoulder, the longer it’ll take for you to get back in the field.”

An impish smile tugs at your lips, your eyes gleaming with a mischievousness Spencer hardly thought you possessed, “So what you’re saying is, you miss me desperately and will sacrifice your hatred of germs and touching other people just to ensure I’m back in Quantico at your earliest convenience?” 

A call from Penelope cuts through the fat of your question, making you laugh when Spencer rushes to answer it and slides you a mock glare that you know is just for show. 

“Yeah, Penelope, what have you got? Y/n and I are here,” well, there’s no escaping his presence now. You find you don’t mind it quite so much, your beginning aims of not falling for him is shredding more and more as the months go on.

[thevelvetvampyre]

Caught red handed - Cillian Murphy x assistant reader

I want him to kick me in the face this gif is so hot im seizing

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x assistant reader

Summary: Sharing a joint hotel room with Cillian as his assistant and he catches you reading smut about him on tumblr, leading him to give you the real life experience

Warnings: Cillian’s a peeper, self pleasure, oral + fingering + p in v basically all of it, choking, spit + ending a little wholesome

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After 15 hours of traveling to New York for Cillian’s new film premiere, you were finally in bed scrolling through your phone getting ready to fall asleep. Besides the mixup downstairs at the front desk where the receptionist gave you a joint room with the man you worked for, the hotel room was beautiful. It had been a little awkward at first as the walls and wooden sliding door that separated you and the actor were thin, but you heard him quiet down and his room had gone silent so you assumed he had fallen asleep first. He laughed off the uncomfortable situation that you would be basically sharing a room and treated you to dinner and drinks in the downstairs restaurant, brushing it off as a ‘bonding moment’ between the pair of you. You had only worked for him as his assistant for a couple months, not really getting too personal with the man as he kept a comfortable distance away from you and remained highly professional during all your encounters and meetings.

it’s only one night. You thought to yourself. Only one night of torture.

The truth was, you had a raging crush on him. Not only was he talented and well admired, he was panties dropping, thigh trembling, pussy pulsatingly handsome. The fact he was so professional with you, even treating you like a daughter drove you insane. You wanted nothing more for him to rip your clothes off, abuse your skin with purple marks and fuck you till it hurt. So here you were, a thin build of plaster away from the man you worked for with your fingers slipping under the top of your underwear and caressing your warm skin.

Shamefully, you read smut on tumblr about the actor in your free time. It was the closest you could get to fucking him, feeling his cock twitch inside you or even feeling his lips on your slit. Of course you took advantage of it and of course if he ever found out you’d want to fall off the face of the earth to never been seen again. Feeling a knot build up in the bottom of your stomach after remembering the night you shared with him, the way he smelt and the way his eyes slightly grazed your thighs you shifted in anticipation on the bed wanting to relieve yourself of the pressure he had built up inside of you.

Feeling your pussy heat up and begin to soak through the cotton underwear you had on, your middle finger began to circle on your clit as knowing he was next door aroused you more than any piece of writing could. You found your favourite post in your likes and began to read as your fingers slowly teased the nub on your mound, fastening up your circles as you were beginning to feel desperate for your release. Although you were under the blanket, your torso was still visible and you placed your phone down to raise your shirt up under your chin. Freeing your tits and feeling the cold aircon hit your nipples, they hardened as you grabbed one in your hand and your head fell slightly back in pleasure to your grasp. Small breaths started to leave your mouth as your back began to arch, your fingers moving faster around your clit as it pulsated under your touch. Lowering your hand to your opening and slowly pressing a finger in, you gasped at the breach into your now soaked hole and pushed even further until your knuckle was attached to your slit. Beginning to slowly curl your finger to the spongy spot inside of you, your neck rolled as your other hand pulled and twisted at your exposed tit. Unknowingly in the midst of your pleasure, your mouth fell open and a whine had quietly escaped.

With the mixture of small squelching noises and whimpers, Cillian’s eyes shot open and he sat up on his elbows. He remained still to listen out for the noise in confusion as his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

Fecking neighbours.

He slapped his head back onto the pillow and huffed out in annoyance, his tiredness getting the best of him as his mind began to drift off once more.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath, feeling a heat build on your groin as your skin began to tingle in the cold air, a twitch shooting your head back even more. A sharp pressure began to fill the back of your cervix as your breathing became erratic and your arousal had spread onto the inside of your thighs. Leaving your boob, your hand snaked its way to your neck as you heavily pressed the sides of your neck and your eyes rolled to your head, feeling the lack of oxygen buzz in your ears.

Cillian sat up once more and tutted, cursing under his breath at the unknown noise and rubbing his eyes. He sighed heavily and properly sat up now, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and groaning with his head in his hands.

A louder whimper had fallen off your lips and your fingers quickened, your eyes squeezed shut as you fucked yourself soaking.

Cillian had stopped breathing, slowly raising his neck as his eyebrows furrowed once more and turned to the direction of the sliding wooden door.

Your back was arched, one hand gripping your throat till your knuckles turned white with your exposed tits in the freezing air. You had already added a second finger and began to pump yourself desperately, small cries falling from your lips as your skin heat up and a familiar pressure began to build in your groin.

Standing up from the side of the bed, Cillian quietly and carefully walked towards the door that separated you, placing his ear against the wood and his mouth fell open ajar as he heard your sweet voice, whimpering as quietly as it could. He continued to listen as his eyes rapidly blinked and his face pressed harder against the door. He heard the wet noises that had echoed off your walls and your desperate whines in an attempt to make yourself cum. Feeling his cock twitch in his grey sweatpants he pulled his head away from the door, feeling a wave of guilt flow over him. His breathing picked up as he stared into the wood, unsure of what to do. Glancing down at the tent growing in his pants, he took a deep breath and began to listen again. He squeezed his eyes shut and cringed at his actions, almost getting off to the fact you didn’t know he was listening.

Feeling frustrated with your fingers, your huffs became louder as your fingers played between your walls and clit, a tear forming in your eye as you couldn’t focus on yourself with the thought of Cillian only being a room away.

With his now throbbing cock that had swelled triple the size, his stomach turned and knotted with guilt. Needing to hear more or even see more, his hands slowly pressed against the door and opened it slightly. Luckily for him, you kept the curtains open and the moonlight poured into the room and illuminated your skin, letting him see your tits and the way you were choking yourself. He groaned under his breath as he watched your back arch and your body shake under your touch, finally hearing your whimpers clearly and seeing how your swollen lips pulled apart and trembled as you whined out in pleasure. His cock began to pull upwards into his stomach, his tip pulsating a white bead out of his angry, red skin. Wanting to see more, he pulled the door wider and slowly walked a small step in. Grunting at the fact your pussy was covered by the blanket, his palm grabbed his cock and began to press his erection down, sighing at the contact yet growing frustrated at the lack of touch.

Feeling yourself build up to a painful pressure, you grabbed your throat tighter and began fucking yourself harder. Getting so, so close to cumming your head filled with white noise and your eyes rolled. Hearing a small noise come from in front of you, you barely took notice as you were so close to coming undone on yourself, your wetness bouncing off the walls and your moans pronouncing themselves off your lips.

Finally, Cillian cleared his throat and your eyes snapped open, releasing your deathly grip on your neck and pulling your hand up from your pussy. Gasping loudly and pulling your shirt down, you sat up with flushed cheeks as you breathed heavily and batted your wet eyelashes at the man in front of you. Your lips were apart and your chest panted up and down, holding eye contact with him as the lighting pronounced his cock that printed in his pants.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Your brows furrowed. Whether your face was flushed from arousal or embarrassment you would never know.

“Came to see what the noise was…” he began, a smirk that grew on his face as his wide eyes stared at you. His gaze fell from you to your phone on the bed which stayed on as you touched yourself. “What’re you looking at?”

You pushed your hair out your face and gulped, only just slightly getting your breath back. As your heart beat rapidly against your chest, your eyes shot down and grabbed your phone to switch it off. Taking fast strides over to you, he reached and grasped your phone and wrists in an attempt to get your device off of you. Your heart now beating so fast you can hear it in your ears, your mouth went dry as you tried your best to get your phone out of his grip.

“Just… wanna see… what’s got you worked up.” He chuckled, finally loosening your grip around the phone. He was much stronger than you, falling a few steps back as he gripped it away. Your heart could’ve killed you at the rate it was beating at, your skin vibrating red and a wave of tears forming in your eyes.

“Please! Cillian! Give it back!” You began to sit up out of the bed but it was too late. His mouth fell open wide and turned into a smirk as his eyes never blinked and remained on the screen. You watched as his finger scrolled down and your stomach flipped and knotted at watching Cillian, your boss, read smut you were reading about him. “Please…” you said through a breath “…just give it back.”

“What’s this?” He looked off the screen and up at you, chuckling through his smirk as his eyes stayed wide. “Reading… a sex story?” Tears had began to swell in your eyes and you wanted the bed to fold you into it’s mattress, your skin remaining red as you felt a ball form in your throat. “About me?” He chuckled as he watched you tear up.

Your fingers brushed against your water line and you shook your head. Covering your face in your hands you slowly looked up and caught a glimpse of his hard cock poking out his pants. Feeling a small rush of relief at his arousal, you sniffled and put your hands down.

“Oh… my god.” He threw your phone on your bed. “Fuck M’mean… I was only next door love.” He walked back over to you and stood at the side of your bed, reaching over and pulling your legs in between his to sit on the edge looking up at him he clasped your cheeks in his hand. He was so close to you that you could smell him, the sound of his tired groggy voice was octaves lower than you were used to and his blue iris’s poured right into yours. The nickname sent chills up your spine, your clit still pulsing at your lack of orgasm. He squeezed your cheeks as his hips twitched forward a little, causing you to break eye contact and look at his swollen cock in your face. Your mouth fell open as you looked at the size of him, reaching up and beginning to palm at him through his pants. Feeling his length around your fingers you looked up to see his lips open and flushed with his eyebrows furrowed, heavy breathing at the slight pressure you were giving him.

“Such a pretty girl.” He grabbed your face tighter to look up more at him. Placing both his thumbs in your mouth he opened your jaw gently and grunted as he looked down at you. “Open.” You did as you were told and widened your mouth. He stood closer to you and dropping a small ball of his spit into your mouth, watching as it landed on your tongue as you rubbed it on the roof of your mouth to swallow. He groaned a praise and lent down to press his lips onto yours, softly sucking and pressing onto your soft lips as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. As he kissed you, he pushed you further back into the bed, kneading your waist as he did so. Leaving your lips, he moved to your neck, earlobe and slowly sucked spots of purple down to your belly button, falling onto his knees and pulling you by the thighs to the edge of the bed once more. Reaching under and lifting your shirt of your head, he threw your clothing onto the floor and both of his hands aggressively pulled at your tits.

“Fuckin’ perfect tits.” He groaned, grazing his thumbs across your nipples and twisting your flesh around his digits.

Looking down at your underwear, his hands dropped from your tits to your waist and snuck his fingers around to hook your underwear, pulling them off of you as you raised your hips and throwing them to the side of your shirt on the floor.

“Fuck… so wet. Who got you this wet hm?” His thumb slowly started to rub circles onto your clit as he looked up at you for your response.

“You.” You began to squirm under his touch, already sensitive from your pleasure before.

“Hm? I can’t hear you love… who got you this wet?” He was basically purring, speeding up the circles on your mound as he licked his lips and attached his eyes onto your pussy.

“You! You Cillian.” Your fingers found themselves on his scalp, desperately pulling at him to go faster.

“Such a good assistant… letting me touch you like this.” All you could do was moan and breath out some curse word or the other, shifting your hips to try and create more movement underneath you.

Humming in approval, Cillian placed his lips onto your slit and removed his thumb, snaking his hands back around your waist and grabbed you fiercely into his face. Feeling his tongue slowly caress your wet, hot pussy your back arched against the bed and twitched beneath him. Pressing his face hard while sucking you, the room filled with squelching noises and the sound of his lips popping against you. Reaching down with one of his hands, he pressed two fingers against your hole and moaned at how wet you were, pressing his fingers into you and slowly pumping his digits into your soft soft. Already feeling the knot form in your stomach, your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly as your legs shook.

“Oh yes… cum for me honey”

Fucking you faster with his fingers as you shook around his face, he held one of your thighs steadily to keep you still as he fingered and ate you out as you came. Whimpering against you, he felt you release onto his tongue and felt your wetness smear around the sides of his lips. Pulling back and giving your clit one more peck before towering over you on the bed, he struggled to get his sweatpants off fast enough as you laid dazed beneath him.

“Can’t wait to feel this cunt around my cock love… been wanting t’fuck you since day one.” Running his throbbing, red tip up and down your slit to collect your arousal, he wrapped his fingers around your neck and held you tight as he pressed his tip into you, grunting at the feeling of your walls around him as he slowly pushed in inches at a time.

“Fuck- oh fuck” He whimpered into your ear, holding your throat tighter as he panted next to you. “So tight.” The way he sounded like he was crying turned you on even more, clenching your walls around him which only made him fall slightly limp into your chest as he continued to push.

Getting up onto his wrists and staring directly into your eyes, he pounded his hips into the back of your thighs in one shove and watched as your face scrunched to the size of him. He felt big and his warmth had spread over your body, lips falling open as his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you.

“Taking my cock so well…” You whimpered and arched your back. He reached over and grabbed one of your hips, looking down at his cock tearing into you. Speeding up his thrusts, he continued to watch as his strokes started to already become desperate and sloppy.

“‘M’already gonna cum.” He looked up at you and tears were in his eyes. You watched him as he pathetically whimpered and whined at the feeling of fucking your pussy.

“Oh fuck-fuck yes.” You felt his warm load shoot into the back of your walls as you clenched him, milking him for all he has. He weakly continued to fuck you through his orgasm, knitting his brows together and trying his best to stay up as his white load violently soaked your insides.

Slowing down his pace as his grunts and groans softened, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees. Staring at your wrecked pussy, he pulled you apart and watched as his cum leaked out of you.

“Mmm, so pretty honey.”

Standing up and flopping next to you on the bed, he pulled you close and raised your chin to look up at him.

“Just come to me next time… no need to touch yourself as you read your sex stories.” You cringed as you remembered and he chuckled at you, pulling you close into a hug and wrapping his arms around you. He kissed your forehead as you both drifted off to sleep in the same bed and you smiled on his chest, smelling his cologne and feeling his warmth.

[howtofightwrite]

So. There is no safe place (in the body) to be shot. There are places that are slightly safer than others to be stabbed (i.e. being stabbed in the meat of your calf is less likely to be lethal than your torso). For the purposes of an arrow wound, which feels like a combination of shot+stab for a swords n sorcery world, is there a “less lethal” place to take an arrow? My character is traveling with companions and gets into a fun little goblin skirmish. I need her to catch an arrow somewhere that will be concerning, but not immediately fatal. Magic Bullshit™️ will keep the wound from healing properly for a few days, but I’ve accounted for field wound care (cleaning and bandaging and such) as she’s being taken on horseback to get proper treatment.

Not deeply.

So, the problem with all of these is tissue disruption. If the injury gets deep enough, the chances that it will hit something vital (especially on the torso) increase dramatically. So, getting stabbed and having the blade catch bone, instead of getting in deeper is “relatively” safe. Similarly, getting stabbed (or shot) in the hand or foot is unlikely to kill you (though, those injuries are likely to result in permanent damage impairing the use of injured appendage.)

Arrows are a little different, in a couple of ways. First, if you get shot, you do not want to pull that off (nor break it off and push it through.) That will increase the risk of bleeding out. Arrows make fairly large holes in people, but if the arrow sticks in the wound (which, it should) it will actually limit the amount of bleeding. Effectively the wound has a partial plug in it. Pulling out the arrow means that plug is no longer there, and they can happily bleed to death on the spot.

The second thing about arrows is that they actually pin muscle together. Think of it a bit like holding two pieces of meat together with a toothpick. If the toothpick isn't there, the pieces can slide across each other without issue, but that's not possible when there's a wooden shaft running through them. Your muscles are a complex web of meat, that slide over each other as you move. Pinning those together means that part of your body will actually lock up. For example, if you're shot in the shoulder, you won't be able to adjust the position of your arm. It's been toothpicked, and it's not going anywhere.

Arrowheads can get wedged in bone. If it's a broad head, or hunting tip, that will be obnoxious to get out.

At the risk of reading too much into your setting, goblins often means poisons, or other nastiness. Though, really, even just getting a tetanus infection (it used to be called “lock jaw”) from their blades is a pretty horrific potential fate. Even if the wounds themselves were relatively minor (cuts and scrapes, maybe a graze or two), a couple days might still result in some pretty horrific harm after the fact.

Also, remember, it's unlikely that bacteria will be understood by the medical science of your setting. So, first aid would still run a real risk of secondary infections.

Depending on their skill in first aid, anything outside of a severed artery or catastrophic organ damage should be (technically) survivable, though the wounds could easily result in permanent impairments, depending on exactly what was hit. A punctured lung might not kill her, but it could result in permanent respiratory issues, such as a cough, and chronic pain while breathing heavily from then on. It could also result in pneumonia and death, which is also, usually, pretty permanent.

Some of this depends more on where you want to land on a spectrum between dark fantasy and swords & sorcery. The genres are similar (and potentially overlapping), but can scatter out into dramatically different works. But, you do have some options on how you want to proceed.

-Starke

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[lovelyhan]

Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.

This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.

— terrified ⟢

minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.

★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words

★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic

★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae

In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.

"How many kids do you want in the future?"

"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."

It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.

It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.

Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.

"I don't really want to have kids..."

You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.

Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.

Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.

"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."

For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"

Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.

"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"

That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."

It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.

But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.

One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.

Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.

It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.

The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.

But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.

It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.

Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.

It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.

But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.

Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.

What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.

Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.

It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.

"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."

The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.

It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.

"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.

Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"

He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.

But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.

"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."

The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.

While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.

But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.

"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"

It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.

While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.

So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.

As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.

It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.

"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"

For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.

"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.

"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."

Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.

"And what do you think it is that I want?"

"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."

God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.

It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.

He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.

With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.

"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."

It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.

Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.

What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.

"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."

"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"

"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"

Oh. Oh.

"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"

"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"

He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."

"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.

"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."

The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.

"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.

"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"

Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"

"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."

"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"

"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."

Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.

"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."

Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"

"Hey, like I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"

The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.

Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Then I want that, too."

Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.

For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.

Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.

And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.

But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.

"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"

With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"

He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."

Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.

He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.

The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.

(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)

The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.

Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.

"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."

"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.

"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."

You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.

Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.

"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."

"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."

"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."

Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.

Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.

The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.

"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"

You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"

"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."

"W-Wait, I—"

Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.

He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.

So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.

"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."

Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."

You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.

It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."

"Y/N, we're already married."

"I don't see how that's a problem."

As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.

Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.

⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)

[venusacrossthestars]

putt-putt

pairing- Lando Norris x fem!reader

wc- 1.3k

summary- You and Lando are too competitive for you own good, so what is a better date idea than a round of putt-putt

a/n: this is a little b-day gift for my bestest friend @arieslost I LOVE YOU BESTIE.

f1 masterlist

“Babe, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

If someone walked in and saw the look on Lando’s face they would assume that you just kicked the poor man’s dog. But the truth to Lando’s sad expression- your insistence that a mini-golf date was not at all a great idea that Lando chalked it up to be. 

Lando stares up at you from where his head rest on your lap, his lips pouted out, “Why not?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do you remember the last time we went? Or the time we played Mario Kart, Uno, Monopoly. Do you remember anytime we played something that had us competing against each other.” Lando continues to stare at you, as if he has no idea what you are talking about. 

“Lando! Seriously?! We each get pissy at each other. We are both too competitive for our own good.” 

Lando shoots up from were he was laying, startling you. He reaches across you to where his phone lays on the side table, “But babe, you haven’t even seen how cool this place is!” He shoves his now unlocked phone in your face, “See!” 

You move back and take Lando’s phone from his hand. You see that he already has their Instagram paged pulled up. You scroll through a couple of their post. 18 holes, Atlantis themed, has an aquarium, good photo opportunities. 

“It is nice,” you agree. 

“Babe. Please.” 

Your resolve crumbles in a matter of seconds, “Fine, but I have 2 conditions,” you watch Lando’s face fall, “1- You will not, and I mean, NOT, do that spiderman-whatever-it-is pose on the course and 2- If an argument or anythings breaks out and we get pissy at each other I get to say I told you so.” 

“Deal!”

The first ‘disagreement’ of the day occurred not even 2 holes into the course. Lando claimed that you had purposely aimed for his ugly neon green ball. 

“You did that on purpose!” 

You stand there with a bewildered look on your face, “Are you kidding me? Your ball is right in the middle of the damn way. Of course I’m going to hit it!” 

This is exactly why you couldn’t stand playing against Lando. When the two of you played together against other people, you guys were a powerhouse, unstoppable. Putting the two of you against one another, well the results were what you were dealing with now. 

“Lando I swear to God I will leave you here and you can walk home. Remember our ‘deal’? Because I do.”  You wave your golf club at him in a warning manner. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry baby.” 

You sigh out, you could never stay made at Lando when he gave you that puppy dog eyes look, “It’s fine, let’s just try and have a good time.” 

The two of you move through the course, you’re keeping score with a baby pencil on the little piece of paper one of the workers gave you when you picked out your balls, not trusting Lando to put down the correct score. 

“Awww. Babe, look your favorite food,” You point to the fish in aquarium that lines the next hole. 

You hear Lando make a noise and a pinch in your side. “That one looks like you,” Lando tells you as he points to the ugliest fish in the tank. 

You ram you elbow back, hitting him right in the stomach, “You ass. Keep it up and you’ll be sleeping with them.” 

“Come on, we got like, 7 holes left.” Lando grabs you hand and drags you away to the next hole. 

Lando drops his ball on the green, lines up his shot and swings. You watch as the ball bounces off the barrier and rolls right into the hole. “Hole in one babyyyyyy!” He exclaims, club raised over his head. “I’d like to see you do that.” 

“Bet.” Is all you say as Lando walks over to hole to retrieve his ball. He moves off to the side and watches as you line up your shot, a smirk resting on his face. 

You swing, and your ball does the same thing that Lando’s did, resulting in you own hole in one. 

“Hole in one babyyyyyy!” You mimic his early reaction. You do his same winning motion and you watch his smirk fall with a smirk of your own. 

The two of you aren’t the only people in here, there is a family a four ahead of you and another couple behind you. As Lando and you are walking to the next hole you can’t help but glance back at the couple, who, unlike you and Lando, are being all lovey dovey. The boyfriend is helping the girl with her swing, standing behind her, holding her hands as they swing the club together. 

You nudge Lando, “See we could be like them,” you point to the couple, “instead we’re two competitive a-holes.” 

Lando shrugs. “I like your competitiveness, gives me my money worth.” 

“Well be sure to keep that mentality after I beat your ass.” 

“We still have 3 more holes,” Lando points out. 

“Yeah, but with how bad you’re doing, I think I got this in the bag.” 

“Don’t count all your eggs before they hatch.” 

“Chickens, babe. Chickens. It’s- don’t count all your chickens before they hatch.” 

“Wait, then what’s the egg one?” 

“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket?” You say unclear to which one he is referring to.

“That’s it!” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re lucky your handsome.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you pat him on the shoulder and start walking to the next hole. 

“No, what did you mean by that?” Lando calls out from behind you and all you can do is giggle. 

It’s the last hole and maybe Lando was right, you shouldn’t have counted all your chickens before they hatched. Because the past two holes Lando has managed to get two holes in one, you on the other hand were plundering. 

“So, we’re tied right now. This is the last hole, therefore, the tie-breaker.” 

“Do you want to go first?” 

“I guess.” Honestly no, you didn’t want to go first. You rather watch how Lando does first, then try to replicate whatever he did, your strategy you’ve been using the entire game. 

You line up your shot and swing. A very underwhelming delivery on your end. Lando goes and has the same result. Second swing same thing, ultimately closer to the hole before. Lando swings and his ball is just a little behind yours. Third swing, and PLUNK, right into the hole. You hold in your celebration, Lando could still tie. Lando goes for his turn, and he puts to much force in his swing, his ball goes in and right back out of the hole. It’s on his fourth try that his ball makes it in. 

“YES! I WON!” Your shout draws the attention of the couple behind you, you give them an apologetic look. You turn your attention to Lando, who is looking at you with nothing but adoration. 

“Well done,” Lando gives you a little golf clap and you take a bow. 

“I guess I don’t get to tell you I told you so.” You say as the two of you walk in the parking lot hand-in-hand. 

“Wow, we actually had a nice outing and that’s all you can say,” 

You stop and jerk Lando’s hand towards you, “I had a fun time, even if we did get a little competitive.” 

Lando’s hands move to you waist and pull you into a hug, “I had a fun time too, even though I lost.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” 

He wouldn’t say anything today, but maybe sometime in the future he would tell you that he purposely swung a little too hard on his third turn so that his ball would bounce out of the hole. But for now he could live with the little white lie, as long as it made you happy.

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[hotluncheddie]

‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting. 

He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly. 

Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve. 

He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit. 

‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm. 

‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’ 

‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head. 

Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain. 

‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now. 

‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’ 

He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek 

‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite. 

‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.  

Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face. 

‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming. 

-

me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[meanbossart]

LORE ASK COMPILATION: "Still not banging Halsin, Squid Games, Sun King, Failing at love quizzes, Bottoms, Tops, and Cats" Edition

He didn't, Halsin wasnt around for act 3, too busy healing land and saving ghost children or something!

THANK YOU/I'M SORRY, I'm surprised there isn't more Bhaalist Dark Urge/Spawn Astarion stuff out there. Don't get me wrong, I love a good evil power couple, but who can resist the good ol'heartbreak of a vicious unending cycle brought on by your own senselessness!

That wasn't something I was interested in previously just because acquiring the slayer form isn't part of his canon, but I've been looking at enough fromsoft games' monster designs that I might be a little inspired to try LOL

Also I am just a fan of the canon design and never before thought it needed altering. But I'll let it cook ;)

God damn it.

DU drow was VERY antagonizing towards the emperor since the moment he dropped the facade, which made the attempt ESPECIALLY hilarious - that poor guy is so, so lonely.

I don't recall the exact wording in-game, but once the emperor took his shiny squid pecs out and shot his shot, DU drow recoiled and called him disgusting. After having the visions of Stelmane forced upon him to make whatever baffling point the emperor was trying to make, DU drow smugly asserted that he had finally let the mask slip and their very terrible date ended with the Emperor enforcing their reluctant need for one another, for the time being.

In-prose, that would honestly be pretty much it. DU drow would have reacted with absolute revulsion at the prospect of being hit on by a mindflayer, and taken the Emperor's (miscalculated) moment of lashed-out vulnerability as a win - as proof that he was exactly as duplicitous as he always assumed the Emperor to be.

I can assure everyone that I am as entertained by the thought as the rest of you and it is in the cards for future art, I just have... So many prompts... I have at least 5 different mini-comics I want to make, BESIDES singular pieces, BESIDES the fanfic... I wish I had more time and more hands.

But DU drow's unlikely semi-success as a parental figure is hilarious to me. I think about it constantly.

I haven't entertained that thought much because its antithetical to DU drow's character. Whether "good" or evil, he wouldn't allow Astarion to ascend because of his fear of no longer being needed and his reluctance to watch his partner be consumed by out-sourced power and changed into something he despises. Realistically, in a world where Astarion is allowed to ascend they could only break up and inevitably kill each other soon after.

That said, I am fascinated by the Sun King and the implications that path has for his character. So far that is an arc that I can only really see Astarion taking on alone, though - that might change in the future, might not. We'll see!

IF I CAN MAKE IT NOT ENTIRELY MISERABLE, I JUST MIGHT.

He got 2 out of 3 questions wrong - which is to say he was way too honest and Astarion didn't like that.

Except for the "when is he the happiest" question, which he correctly answered with "when he's neck deep in gore".

This is not even a lore-embelishment, this is actually how that scene went for me and I cackled about it for ages.

He would love to get tied up for old-times' sake. I doubt he knows much about fancy knots but Astarion might (though I might be in a minority that doubts his enforced "sex life" was actually that interesting at all.)

Thank you so much!

You are mostly correct. Bhaalist drow, both pre and post tadpole would be much more keen on the idea of having people around who fulfill their every desire - EXCEPT for killing. That is a joy they take on for themselves.

"Canon" DU drow values his independence a lot, on the other hand. He's neutral on the idea of slavery (what a sentence) and wouldn't be opposed to temporary servicing, but the idea of having someone around waiting for orders doesn't attract him at all, or at least would get on his nerves quick. He much preffers to do things himself and makes sure that other people see how much he does not need assistance.

The answer is yes, basically LOL.

DU drow both adores and despises Sceleritas presence and he doesn't know why. It very much reflects the type of relationship they used to have prior to DU drow's memory loss, and it's one of those things that he has conflicting feelings about but not any context for them.

I sadly doubt that the boys would become parents during Shadowheart's lifetime (it's for the best, they have a lot of work to do before I would trust them not to drop a baby), but honestly she strikes me as really liking kids as long as she doesn't have to, well, have them LOL.

And thank you so much for enjoying them and humoring me!

I think it is less about bottoming-topping and more about enjoying a more submissive role during sex, as well as in other scenarios. He believes that giving control away is, in a way, a show of devotion that goes both ways - his own for the willingness to do so, and his partner's for not taking advantage of it despite his wanting them to do so.

With one-night-stands (which he occasionally had pre-tadpole) he would still bottom without any of the submissiveness. This is because he didn't have the capacity to understand what it was about bottoming that attracted him, and led him to feeling constantly unfulfilled and frustrated (he just isn't build for no-strings-attatched type of arrangements, lol.)

This means that he really could operate either way depending on the partner as long as he got that fix of docility, whether it be from the bottom or top.

I think of Astarion as being similarly versatile but leaning more in the opposite direction when it comes to power-dynamics - though it being less about dominance itself and more about being pampered and catered to - and, of course, getting to do what he wants. Though he's willing to try most things a partner is particularly enthusiastic for just to see how he feels about it.

That said with DU drow he does prefer to top for a plethora of reasons.

I didn't have this piece of lore thought-up at the time, but I should have made them look like the lady he lost his virginity to.

Him and Astarion were gobbling those things up until the emperor reveal, then they both quit it cold-turkey after DU drow stomped the astral-tadpole dead (and back then you didn't have to roll any dice to do it, because otherwise we would have weird veiny DU drow to deal with for sure because he would NOT have suceeded that save.)

DU drow's feelings towards animals is a constant in every iteration of his character. They are organic little pieces of art wandering about the world that act upon their own laws and regulations, ones which humanoids aren't privy to - except for when they intrude into that world through magic and try to understand it through their overly-complicated systems and concepts. If a cat made the temple it's home, it can stay.

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 2: LOVING HIM WAS RED [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 3972

summary: seb, after not knowing about her for almost five years, finds out that y/n just went viral on youtube after posting a song that might be written about him

warnings: settled on april 2018 and narrated on seb's pov. curse words, mentions of sex and one night stands. apart from that, just a little bit of background story from seb and reader's relationship

taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @nhfls @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]

a/n: i know i'm supposed to be posting oscar fics but migraine is killing me today (been quite stressed for the past few days i believe). in the meantime, as i already had it written, here you have part 2 of goodbyes are bittersweet! hope you liked it as much as you liked part 1 (even if it's a bit different). part 3 coming tomorrow if you want so? PLEASE let me know your thoughts and opinions in comments! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

2018 April 27th Baku, Azerbaijan

Sebastian

I woke up as soon as I felt the sun’s rays hitting me in the face, and at the same moment I noticed a surprisingly strange warmth next to me, in bed.

I looked at my phone and saw that it was already half-past seven in the morning. Not only had I realized that my alarm hadn’t gone off and I had overslept by an hour and a half, but it was also Y/N’s birthday.

Like every year, there was no response from her to the email I had scheduled to be sent at midnight. 

After almost five years of knowing the bare minimum about her and having seen her a couple of times from afar in Heppenheim, I knew why, deep down, I kept doing it. I still loved her as much as the first day, or even more. I hoped for a reunion where we could tell each other about our lives and start a simple friendship as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t chosen to leave my life and act like she didn’t know me.

I decided to turn over to see what was getting closer and closer to me, almost pushing me off the bed. It wasn’t hard to find myself face to face with blue eyes that were not the green ones I had dreamed of that night.

Suddenly, memories from just a few hours ago started to form in my mind. A few beers I shouldn’t have had at a local pub just because I wanted to escape the blurry memory of Y/N were responsible for me meeting this charming young woman with a wonderful smile.

My head couldn’t piece together how we ended up here, but I suppose her insistence, my invitation for her to accompany me to the hotel, and possibly a taxi ride I paid for were the final results of the goal to escape reality. 

This had been my routine since I realized my ex-girlfriend wasn’t coming back into my life. I didn’t like being this way, and although I had tried to find a stable partner, kindness, fun and a temporary refuge had been the best way to try to forget Y/N Y/L/N, who always found a way to slip into my thoughts at the least expected moment.

I quickly got out of bed and, almost without thinking and without needing to undress, jumped into the shower and did my best to let the warm water make me forget everything I had allowed to happen the night before. I closed my eyes and let myself go as much as I could. I tried to organize my thoughts and find the easiest possible way out of the problem I had gotten myself into, but it was impossible to find one that worked.

I got out of there faster than I would have liked. When I returned to the room, with just the towel wrapped around my waist, leaving my entire torso exposed, I found the person I had been avoiding at all costs.

The brunette was already stretching in bed, dawdling and, surely, not wanting to leave.

“Would you mind leaving?”

My rhetorical question made her just look at me in surprise, her eyes still sleepy.

“Why, Seb? Can’t we spend the day together? I could go with you to the paddock and repeat what we did last night in your room or whatever you call it,” she suggested with a playful smile. “You know as well as I do that it would be fun.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach at her suggestion. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed her company or was forbidden to do so, but the simple fact of knowing who was turning thirty today, and that this exact proposal was something I used to do with her...

“I don’t think it’s a good idea...” 

Damn, I didn’t remember her name.

“Alessia.”

“That’s it, Alessia,” I confirmed. “You know how these things are and what it could mean for us to be seen together. We could meet another day as... friends.”

Neither my response nor hers were what the other expected. After hearing her name, I remembered the brief introduction she gave me: a musician just starting out and a member of a highly successful Italian orchestra.

An Italian version of Y/N and, unfortunately for me and possibly the blonde, a successful one.

“The way you moaned my name last night so many times is not something friends usually do. You made me feel special last night. A lot, in fact.” 

“I’m sorry, Alessia, that wasn’t what I meant,” I clarified, my cheeks blushing slightly at her statement. “I hope you enjoyed what we did last night, but it’s time for you to get dressed and go back to your hotel or wherever you’re staying. I have to go to work,” I added, trying not to succumb to her obvious charms. 

After several more attempts to convince me, the girl finally resigned herself and reluctantly accepted my suggestion. I felt uncomfortable when she threw off the sheets and began to gather her clothes, completely naked. I felt even worse as I watched her slow and deliberate movements, as if she were prolonging the inevitable farewell and trying to arouse me. 

I bit my lip and refrained from doing or saying anything when she asked for help zipping up her dress. I could have said no, but I didn’t want to seem rude, especially considering that the time I spent with her had made me feel just as I had with my ex-girlfriend. 

Once we were finished, the Italian approached me with determination. Before I could react, her lips sought mine with clear intention. I instinctively turned my face, causing the kiss to land on my cheek instead of my lips. 

“Alessia…” 

What could I say in a situation like this? Did she deserve the hurt I was going to cause her even though we had only had a night of wild sex, like so many others I had had with other girls? 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured hastily, looking away. “I thought… you know, that we could have something more than just a one-night stand.”

My heart sank at her words, and as I had already foreseen, because it always happened in these cases, guilt overwhelmed me. 

I knew I had been unfair to her by allowing this to happen, by letting her believe there could be something more between us, and that the problem was hers when the only one to blame was me, who hadn’t gotten over the love of my life after four years, now closer to five, of no contact. 

“Alessia, you’re an incredible person,” I began to say, trying to find the right words and not hurt her more, “but right now, all I want to focus on is my work and working on myself. It wouldn’t be fair for you to be part of all this and end up getting hurt.”

“I understand,” she said softly, nodding with a sadness that, although expected, still surprised me. “Thank you for letting me spend this night with you, Sebastian.”

I felt overwhelmed and at the same time a great mixture of relief and remorse as I watched her leave without even looking back. 

When enough time had passed to be sure I wouldn’t run into her, I went down to the hotel lobby still feeling that heaviness invading me. I tried to shake off all of them, but as soon as I saw Britta standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed and with an angry look fixed on me, I knew it was going to be difficult. 

“Sebastian, again?” she asked, full of frustration. 

“Yes, and I’m not going to apologize for something I don’t regret,” I replied sincerely, knowing there was no way to avoid the upcoming conversation. 

“Are you going to keep playing this game much longer?” she reproached as she quickened her pace, trying not to cause too much of a scene or draw attention. “You’ve gone longer than I’d like to say without settling down.” 

“I will when I get tired of sleeping with girls I don’t know, I suppose. Having sex is good for health, you know? Be thankful I don’t cause you many problems after these nights.” 

Britta sighed, and I knew my response was making her lose the little patience she had left. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think what would make you tired of sleeping with strangers almost every Grand Prix week would be to have some kind of interaction with Y/N.” 

The mention of the blonde’s name made the wave of emotions I had tried to bury for years resurface, hitting me suddenly. 

“You know I can’t do that. It’s impossible. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t want to cooperate.” 

“You should at least try once again, at least. I know there’s nothing, nor anyone, who can change her mind,” and it was true. Y/N was the most stubborn person, for better or worse, that I had ever met in my life. “But I also know that if you keep avoiding facing your feelings and trying to forgive yourself for what happened, you’ll never find the peace you’re not only wishing for but also deserving of.” 

“I know, Britta, but…” 

“But what, Sebastian? It’s just that…” 

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?” 

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the change of subject and possibly for not letting her finish. She slowed her pace, and for the first time in the short time we had been together that day, I felt calm and even understood. 

“Yes, I’ve heard something about that,” she said after a few seconds that felt eternal. “What does that have to do with getting over your ex-girlfriend?”

“Well, everything, really,” I declared. “Y/N and I dated, if you can even call it that, for ten days during Christmas of ’99. She was 11, and I was 12, and I was a bit stupid because I ended up breaking up with her when I fell for a classmate who had just moved to Heppenheim and who eventually started dating my cousin.” 

“But…”

“Then Y/N and I became friends again,” I continued, trying not to let her interrupt my impromptu speech, “and it took six years until she told me she loved me. I didn’t want to admit my feelings and decided that not talking to her for four months was the best, not even to offer my condolences after her grandmother’s death… And look, in the end, I asked her to go out with me!”

My PR sighed, possibly tired of hearing that story once again, a story I never got tired of telling because sometimes reality was weirder than fiction.

“I’m going to tell you what I’ve always told you since Y/N left, and I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it: you’re still clinging to the hope that everything will go back to how it was, even though you know it’s not possible,” she said without a hint of doubt. “Even if you ran into her and had a deep conversation, your lives have changed. At least yours has, and I’m sure hers has too.”

“I mentioned the invisible string theory because I feel like there’s something else. I feel, besides there being something unknown that ties us together for some reason, that the third time's the final one,” I finally confessed.

My confession seemed to have caught her off guard. Now, she slowed, and she was passing her accreditation to enter the paddock much more slowly than she usually did.

Maybe she was right, that I was holding on too tightly to the hope that everything would go back to how it was before, but I had been dreaming about Y/N again for many nights after months without doing so. It had never happened before, but the last few days had felt like she had never left my life and had always been there, just apart.

The last time I had that feeling it ended with me seeing her from a distance playing with a little girl she was probably babysitting to earn some extra money.

Obviously, I didn’t dare to approach her because she seemed... happy. Quite happy, actually.

“I’d like to keep talking about this, but I want you to stop thinking about Y/N, at least for a few hours, and focus on today,” my PR’s change in tone let me know she was serious. “We have a lot to do.”

“Then enlighten me, master.”

“First, you have a meeting with the team to discuss possible strategies for practice and what might work for tomorrow’s qualifying,” the blonde began to explain, taking out her planner and going over the day’s schedule. “Then I think you have an interview with SkySports with Nico Rosberg, and maybe a talk for a collaboration with a brand, but I have to check that again.”

“What time am I supposed to meet with the engineers?”

“Around nine-thirty, but...”

I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth as my PR continued talking. The heaviness in my eyelids was getting worse, and I felt the exhaustion from the previous night starting to take its toll. I looked at my phone and saw that, unfortunately, it was only eight-fifteen.

Was the day going by that slowly?

“Understood,” I replied, pretending I had been paying attention to everything Britta had said. “By the way, do you mind if I go to my driver’s room to have some rest?”

“Sebastian...”

“I had a fantastic night,” I admitted, causing her to cross her arms and once again look at me with a stern expression, “but I didn’t sleep at all, and if I want to perform well, I need to sleep at least for a bit.”

“You have forty-five minutes at most,” the blonde snapped. “Don’t you dare be late, or we’ll have problems. Set your alarm and make sure your phone is on in case someone calls you.”

It won’t be Y/N, that’s for sure.

“I will, don’t worry.”

I left Britta after exchanging a few more words with her and hurried as much as I could. With every step I took, I felt more tired. I knew I should have slept at least six hours, but I succumbed to the temptation last night to, why not say it, have a good time and, as was more than obvious and had become routine since 2014, try to succeed in the mission of forgetting Y/N on her birthday.

Another year, it had been impossible.

I didn’t know if it was due to lack of sleep or lack of attention, but the voices around me seemed increasingly distant. The only thing I could hear as I walked through the pit lane was a growing murmur where the words “viral” and “song” seemed to be the main topics, especially from the mouths of Max, Daniel, and I’d swear Charles.

“Have you heard this song?” I heard Verstappen say. I stopped when the first piano chords began to play. “It’s like a pandemic; it’s everywhere.”

“I don’t know who the girl singing is, but she’s incredibly talented,” Ricciardo continued. “Do we know who...?”

“You don’t know if it’s a girl!” Leclerc reproached, hitting the Australian on the arm. “What if it’s a guy with a high voice?”

I laughed at the younger guys' antics, wondering if my former teammates saw me that way when I was their age.

Losing him was blue like i’d never known Missing him was dark gray all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met Cos’ loving him was red

If my eyes were almost closing automatically, after hearing the chorus, or whatever it was called, it felt like I had taken an energy drink that had woken me up.

The moment that voice, both raspy and sweet at the same time, penetrated my ear, my hair stood on end. Its familiarity was incredible… but no, it couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"God damn, who can play the piano while singing?" 

"I have two questions," Daniel blurted out, ignoring Charles' words. "The first one is who the fuck it could be, and the second is how the hell they've gotten so much attention out of nowhere."

It's Y/N, who else could it be, I thought.

I tried to control all kinds of thoughts that were running through my head. I knew my ex-girlfriend's voice perfectly, and the one coming from the Dutchman's phone was quite similar to hers.

"Maybe it's a marketing strategy. At least that's what Fernando thinks," Max always had the Spaniard's name in his mouth. "What if it's a marketing strategy by some record label? It could be a plan to generate interest in an artist or a song."

"I highly doubt it. If they wanted to do that, the YouTube account wouldn't be named 151206010614."

Lewis appeared next to me out of nowhere. Quickly taking off his headphones, he also unplugged them from his phone, letting the song play at full volume.

"Seb, are you okay?" insisted the Brit.

"Yes, yes. I was just a bit distracted," I hurried to say.

He didn't seem very satisfied with my answer, but I didn't care. The only thing I was thinking about at that moment was how much I wanted to get to the hospitality area, and how much I wanted to take a micro-nap at this point.

"Are you also distracted thinking about that anonymous person?"

"I can't be distracted by someone I know nothing about other than what I've heard from them," I replied, pointing to the three drivers who were still engrossed in the conversation about the topic.

"I've managed to hear a bit, yes," replied the dark-haired one. "I think I understand music a little more than they do. I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with a record label, and that someone simply uploaded it without any expectations. And look how it went from them."

I looked at him intrigued, understanding little to nothing of what he was saying.

"Since you look confused, I'll explain a bit," Hamilton continued, realizing that I didn't seem to understand much. "It seems they uploaded this song, which happens to be called Red, to YouTube," he hit play and put it on again, now from the beginning, "It seems to be about a failed relationship, but no one knows who sings it or what the real story behind it is."

"Does no one really know anything?" I insisted, finding the situation very strange.

Why was the voice only familiar to me? Could it be because today was Y/N's birthday, and everything reminded me of her much more than usual?

"The only thing we know is that the song is wonderful. Really, I don't know who’s behind this, but if they discover that girl, if it is a girl, and give her a chance, I’m almost sure she can achieve great things."

We decided to move a bit further down the pit lane, exchanging a few words with those we met. Lewis kept talking about the song. I couldn't stop thinking and analyzing the melody, the lyrics, the voice, and especially the user. I knew there was something hidden behind that combination of numbers, and now the priority of sleeping a bit before the first free practice session had taken a back seat.

I tried all possible combinations. Numbers from front to back, in pairs, trios, and even quartets, but nothing seemed to convince me. While the melody of Red continued to resonate from the Mercedes driver's iPhone, my mind kept trying to get the information because something inside me, which was nothing like the feeling I had every April 27th, knew it was Y/N.

I managed to come up with the supposed answer shortly after, recalling some of the important dates for us. If I divided the username into three different sections, with two pairs of numbers each, the first one corresponded to June 15th, 2006.

That was the day I asked Y/N to be my girlfriend. 

If that was right, the second pair of numbers corresponded to January 12th, 2014. I was no longer dating Y/N at that time, but I knew her perfectly, and not to brag, but I was convinced that date must be extremely important to her if it was alongside our anniversary.

I wish I could know what it is that about.

“Are you listening to me?”

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

I ignored Lewis after hearing, for the first time paying extremely attention, that bridge. 

Somehow, the song described my feelings perfectly, and I didn’t know why I felt that way. I couldn’t let go of Y/N, not when she had been, and still was, the love of my life. 

I entered WhatsApp almost automatically and went into Y/N's profile. She had no profile picture, but I knew perfectly well that it was her because her contact was still saved with the same name. I quickly wrote to her that I knew it was her hiding behind the song and that somehow, I knew she was talking about me. 

I saw Britta approaching us quickly. She was also engrossed in her phone, her fingers constantly moving over it. I didn’t pay much attention to her because once I showed my desperation to Y/N, I moved on to conveying it to Hanna, trying to convince her to reveal that it was her best friend. 

“Seb, we need to talk,” Roeske hurried to say, almost out of breath. Her gaze was still fixed on her device.

“Britta, I can’t right now, I’m sending…”

“Sebastian Vettel, this is serious.”

When she yanked the phone from my hands and I made eye contact with her, I assumed things didn’t seem to be going very well. The moment she turned her gaze to Lewis and he walked away, patting me on the shoulder, I knew.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, quite angry. “Why are you acting like a neurotic who seems to have lost a million euros on a ridiculous bet?”

“I don’t want you to answer anything related to that song that went viral, Red. I’m telling you, Sebastian, don’t you dare answer anything about that damn song.”

And again, this was another sign that happened to make me feel like I hadn’t gone crazy.

“Sebastian, trust me,” Britta remained firm in her expression, crossing her arms. “I don’t want you to get into trouble because the song was uploaded by…”

“Y/N.”

I saw the answer in her eyes. I knew her and knew she longed to answer me and at the same time, she didn’t. 

Britta knew that, but I also had the feeling she seemed to want to hide something.

“It’s her the one singing, right?” I insisted, but she didn’t answer. “Britta, please: tell me.”

I was desperate, and it was more than obvious. A sigh and a few seconds filled with uncertainty preceded her response:

“If you already know, why do you ask me? You know the sunshine of your life, as you still call her, much better than I do. Of course it’s Y/N,” she revealed, lifting a great weight off my shoulders and, above all, making me believe I could have faith in the future.

[iwasntstable]

✧₊⁺ 𝗡.𝗦. | 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨

| WORD COUNT: 1.4k | RATING: SFW | CONTENT TAGS: fluff | The things you do when you're missing Noah while he's away.

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

NOTE: Enjoy this little fluff piece to make up for the angst I posted 2 days ago 🖤

Noah has been gone for 2 weeks now. You text and call throughout the day, every day—when he has time. Preparations for their upcoming projects, music video filming, and meeting after meeting to discuss the business side of things take up all of his time. He always works hard, but this was another level that you weren’t used to.

You’ve never been one to yearn particularly hard after a partner, missing them a normal, regular amount, then feeling fulfilled when you reunite after a couple of days. But with Noah, it was different. When you parted, it felt like half of you was missing. Your place was too quiet when he wasn't around. You didn't live in a particularly big place, but it seems vast and empty now that you're alone. Even though the gaping hole his absence left in your life is indisputable, you try to carry on as best as you can.

But even while doing the most mundane tasks, your thoughts are preoccupied with Noah. Wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck, embracing you tightly from behind as you make a sandwich. Your personal space is as much his as it is yours.

“What are you doing?” You giggle, trying your best to assemble the food with his towering frame clinging to you.

“Just wanna cuddle you,” he mumbles into your neck. Your cheeks grow warm, turning as best you can in his hold to look at him over your shoulder.

But when you look, he’s not there. The hum of the fridge and the chill in the evening air are your only companions. The kitchen is too big without him clinging to your back and the smile brought to your face by the memory drops. With a dejected sigh, you place the last piece of bread on top, finishing your little meal and retreating to the living room.

Picking at the bread, you scour your streaming options for something to watch, seeing shows and movies you’re interested in, but just don’t feel in the mood to watch right now. You add them to your ‘Watch Later...’ list and keep searching.

In the “Continue Watching...” section, the show with way too many seasons you were working your way through is first in line. The preview reminds you where you left off, and you get the urge to hit play, but you were watching this with Noah. He sits forward, yelling at the screen for the characters to, “no! Don’t do that! Oh my God… It’s like they want to die!” Looking bewildered in your direction.

You can’t stifle the laugh, prompting him to hit you playfully with one of the couch cushions.

“What?!” he exclaims, his eyes bright and smiling wide, his hands speaking for him. “Why would you walk in the direction of the bomb? Is she stupid?!”

"No, you’re right,” you clutch your abdomen, the beginnings of an ache in your side from laughing so hard. “I know she’s the main character, but why is she so unlikable? Oh my God…” You let out a long breath, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

Blinking rapidly to rid them of the burn, you play Howl’s Moving Castle instead. Abandoning both the movie and the sandwich half finished when the weight in your chest becomes too heavy.

You don’t even bother to clean up, going straight to your room and crawling under the covers. Attempting to seek comfort in the sheets. But the other side of the bed is too empty and smells too much like him. You reach out, laying your hand on the pillow where he should be. Running your hand through his hair, his drowsy eyes close, a content smile on his lips as he enjoys your affections.

“I love you,” he says quietly, turning his cheek into your palm.

A tear escapes your eye. “I miss you,” you whisper to the space beside you.

You can’t sleep. You haven’t been able to sleep properly for a while now. Only 2 weeks he’s been away, and he’ll be back in just a few days time. You never thought you’d find yourself yearning like this, but the ache in your heart won’t subside, and your usual distractions are failing you. So you decide to indulge in your sadness. 

Taking your laptop from where you left it on the floor, you pull up Spotify. Gravitating immediately to the Bad Omens artist page and hitting play on the The Death of Peace of Mind album. Closing your eyes as soon as his voice comes through the speakers, the soft tone of his singing at the beginning of Concrete Jungle. You push all of the loud thoughts from your mind, focussing only on him. It helps. The tracks trick your brain into thinking he’s here with you. Taking his pillow and holding it to your chest, you allow yourself to be enveloped by the sound and scent of him. You don’t even notice when you start to drift off to sleep. If he couldn’t physically be here to bring you peace of mind, at least his voice could.

When Noah unlocks your door, he’s surprised to see the TV off, a half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table, and you absent from your usual spot on the couch. It was late, but you’re a night owl; it's out of character for you to sleep so early. He re-locks the door behind him and moves quietly through the room, toeing off his shoes and leaving them next to yours. Deciding too, to place his bags down by the door. He didn’t want to knock anything over and wake you if you really were asleep.

He hears the music before he opens the door, the pang of recognition becoming clearer when he cracks it open, and sees your sleeping form in the bed. Your laptop sitting open on his side of the bed, Just Pretend filling the silence of the room. Noah can’t help but smile, his socked feet soundlessly closing the distance between him and the bed where he sits carefully beside you.

Watching you sleep for a moment, his heart feels full at this image of you. Smiling at the sight, he slips his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, opening the camera app and double-checking that the flash isn’t on. He snaps a couple of pictures, grinning as he does so. The laptop is visible over your shoulder, clearly showing his album open and playing on Spotify. He places his phone down next to yours on the bedside table and lays a hand gently on your shoulder. He’s reluctant to pull you from your sleep, but he needs you. And it’s clear that you need him too.

“Babe,” he whispers, his palm smoothing over your shoulder. He leans in closer, calling your name just a little louder and shaking you gently.

You begin to stir. Dreaming of Noah being where he belongs by your side in bed. Your head rests against his chest as he caresses your arm gently.

“Wake up,” he says softly, and your eyes crack open. Squinting against the sunlight. “Wake up, baby.”

He’s singing too. “Weigh down on me, stay ‘til morning, weigh down…”

“Hey,” he says softly, “what’re you doing?”

“Noah?” You mumble, realising the light in your eyes was your laptop, and it was as though you could hear two of him.

“Hi, I’m here. We wrapped up early, I tried to call you,” he brushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

You roll onto your back, and there he is. Hair fluffy, holding a slight wave, and an infectious grin across his face as he looks at you. He looks so soft and warm in his hoodie, and you just want to dive into his arms. So you do, sitting up to collapse into him. He pulls you onto his lap, rocking you side to side, holding you so fiercely it was as though he were trying to make up for every second you'd been separated. You hold on just as tightly, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours.

“Let me turn this off,” he moves carefully, loosening his grip temporarily to hit the spacebar and silence his own voice, then holding you tight again. “You don’t need that now that I’m back.”

“I missed you,” your voice comes muffled against his chest, wavering as you desperately try not to break down.

“I missed you too, so much,” he sighs, sinking into you deeper. “But I’m back now, and I have no plans to go anywhere any time soon.”

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/BLURB/WHENIMISSYOU [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | one-shot | [blurb] | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ [when-i-miss-you]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

✉ C:/SYSTEM/APP/TAG

ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (22) :　 ⌞⬤ 10 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ › @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning › @runadaggerthroughmychest › @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard › @seven-glass-kids › @english-fucker

› @lma1986 › @shayzillaaaa › @madamaaubergine › @thewrstinme › @amourtoken

⌞⬤ 5 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒⌝ › @livingdeceasedgirl › @alwaysfightforwhoyouare › @thecoyotescry › @romanreigns-supreme › @slutforcoffein

⌞⦵ 5 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻⌝ › @deathofpeaceofmindem › @bluestdai › @fadingangelwisp › @broken0mens › @ferduttini

⌞◯ 2 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ › @lovesick-evangelist › @fadingintothegrey

　+[MSG : join the taglist!]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: killer

》 you guys im so sorry it took so long for me to post this,, ive been so busy

♡ liked by killerrr, theroronoa.zoro and 5.8k others

_ynln: my man is so fine, almost had to gatekeep this photo 😣😣

tagged: killerrr

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: STOP SENDING THIS PHOTO IN OUR GC WE GET IT

↳ _ynln: ill stay bragging about my hot asf boyfie 😮‍💨😮‍💨🤞🤞

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: OUR man ☝️

↳ _ynln: KID GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS OMFG

↳ wirewirewire: competition for killer is mad 😭😭

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: it's not a competition, i'm winning 🔥🔥

↳ _ynln: im reporting ur acc

theroronoa.zoro: @killerrr YOO lets hit up the gym sometime together

↳ killerrr: for sure bro

↳ hey_its_heat: at this rate, yn is fighting off the whole world hitting up killer 💀

↳ _ynln: STOPP FRR,, its fine im his no.1️⃣

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: the delusion is crazy 🥱🥱

↳ wirewirewire: ^

↳ hey_its_heat: ^

↳ _ynln: @killerrr address these allegations!!

♡ liked by nicorobin, _ynln and 2.5k others

killerrr: my no.1️⃣ (addressing the allegations)

my girl is so fine, almost had to gatekeep these photos ❤️

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: stop this rn or else im gonna have to kiss u 😣🫵

↳ _ynln: killer i love you <3 (liked by killerrr)

↳ killerrr: do it

↳ _ynln: AHHHGGHHH SCREAMING CRYING ‼️‼️

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: keep this sappy shit OFF my timeline

↳ _ynln: mad u stay single 🥱

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: okay little miss delusional 🤣

↳ _ynln: okay little miss(ing) one arm 🤣

↳ wirewirewire: NO FUCKING WAYBVDWUHIUB 💀

↳ hey_its_heat: that clapback was insane 😭😭

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: pls put a trigger warning on this!

↳ _ynln: piss off

hawkinsthemagician444: The cards are telling me your girl is fine.

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: wtaf that was some jeepers creepers shit (liked by _ynln)

↳ killerrr: fuck off (liked by CAPTAIN.KIIIID)

nicorobin: you look gorgeous @_ynln!

↳ _ynln: ROBIN OMMGGG UR MAKING ME KICK MY FEET AND TWIRL MY HAIR EEEE (liked by nicorobin)

♡ liked by trafalgar_d.law, p1rateking_luffy and 6.1k others

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: betting 100,000 berries that she doesn't notice till she sees this post 🔥

tagged: killerrr

trafalgar_d.law: you guys are an actual menace

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: WATCH YOUR BACK, YOU'RE NEXT TRAFALGAR

_ynln: WTAF I TRY TO MAKE PASTA FOR U GUYS AND THIS IS WHAT I GET??

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: skill issue 😪😪

↳ _ynln: KILLER WTAF I THOUGHT U WERE PATTING ME ON THE BACK CAUSE I WAS DOING WELL

↳ killerrr: i love u but ngl it was funny asf

↳ _ynln: 😐😐

p1rateking_luffy: LOOKS SO GOOD @blackleg.sanji MAKE THIS TODAY IM HUNGRY 😋😋 (liked by _ynln)

lovenami: win rate 100% (liked by CAPTAIN.KIIIID)

↳ lovenami: @_ynln lets hang out more!

↳ _ynln: NO WAY YOU'RE EXPLOITING ME NAMI 🤨🤨

♡ liked by killerrr, CAPTAIN.KIIIID and 27 others

priv.ynn: i love u so much, happy one year kill <3

killerrr: i love you too my love ❤️❤️

↳ _ynln: stop ur making me blush IQUFWJGVIVWFOF

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: bro yn u looking hella goof in the second photo

↳ priv.ynn: clown ahhh

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: goofy ahhh

↳ killerrr: stop arguing all the time ahhh

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: yall better get married or else i suffered for a whole year for NOTHING (liked by killerrr)

lovenami: CUTEST COUPLE!!!!!!!!! (liked by priv.ynn, killerrr)