#controversies swirling

[tumblezwei]

Talking about Ruby cutting off Tyrian's tail like it's some massive moral failing is very funny considering this girl straight up killed a man in the first episode of volume 1.

Like Ruby Rose will try and talk to you first, she doesn't go looking for fights, but if you come at her she's not gonna hold back and she never has.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

🔥unpopular charles opinion

The thing is, it’s not an opinion, really. The question isn’t meant to be a complaint or a rebuttal or anything. I just genuinely don’t get it! The question goes something like this.

So Charles/Klinger seems to be the one actively disliked ship in the fandom, discounting the h*nn*hawk vs p*erc*ntyre gang war and that one rabidly anti-hawnk person (lol). Most nobody has any love for the ship, because it’s stupid and OOC, of course, but mostly because it’s egregiously obviously racist and gross, which is the critique that seems most common, and to be of most importance to people.

And to be clear, for the purposes of this post I am wholly agreeing with all that! It’s distasteful and immoral and people who are into it are insane, including me. I’m not arguing against this line of thinking, I just wanted to look at its inner logic. Because when I first heard people saying this, I thought, “Yeah, makes sense, Charles is truthfully a terrible person with abhorrent opinions. Nobody watching this already unfortunately bigotry-riddled show is obligated to try and look past that! It is Always valid to hate Charles’ guts.”

But it turns out most of the fandom (I assume it must be most, given how shockingly few people here have blocked me) actually don’t hate Charles, in general. It’s the specific ship, not the character, that’s distasteful. (Not to say any Charles ship is anything resembling popular, but like with most ships, that’s just a result of the general population’s Hawkeye BJ Laser Focus Gaze. I’ve never seen anybody actively dislike these ships when they’re brought up.) And the more I think about it, the more I wonder why, because well. to put it bluntly. It’s not like someone stops being racist when they’re not actively interacting with a nonwhite person.

You know what I mean? I feel like Charles’ bigotry would be a turn off for all of our generally morally sound protagonists, not just one who happens to be personally affected by it. But it only becomes an issue when it involves Klinger. I’ve heard people say that any Charles/Klinger ship fic would obviously have to go out of its way to address Charles’ racism, but I’ve read a few Charles/Hawkeye and Charles/Donna (and Charles / other strange and varied choices too, because of course I have) fics–really, REALLY good fics, that captured the characters very nicely and are very beautifully written–and I’ve yet to find one that discusses The Bigotry In The Room with any degree of seriousness.

(Pssst this is everyone’s chance to absolutely dunk on me by sending me fics that do this if there actually are a bunch and I’ve just never read them because I would in fact LOVE to read some fics with that topic regardless of ship!)

And to be clear, that’s fine with me! I truly do not care. When I read Charles running away to Maine or romancing Ms. Parker and I don’t see his love interests stop to ask “Hey, um, so any updates on the fact that you and your whole family are eugenicists?”, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest, because I just assume that Charles has already gone through the cult deprogramming step of his character development at some point prior to this, and either the love interest in question has already confirmed this off-page, or they are making the same assumption I am. After all, at least in Hawkeye’s case, the mere act of admitting romantic interest in a Democrat from the back of beyond would necessarily imply a shift in values, right?

(Admittedly, for all we canonically know Donna could be a fashy scumlord herself, so this reasoning doesn’t wholly apply there, but it obviously does to her fanon background/personality.) (Which is adorable, by the way. Everyone go check out the collective oeuvre of AO3 user onekisstotakewithme.)

So that’s all cool! It’s just that the same thing applies for me when it comes to Charles/Klinger. If anything, it applies even more, because you can have a fic where Charles’ whole family attend his and Donna’s 2nd wedding (Everyone go check out the collective oeuvre of AO3 user onekisstotakewithme!!!) but if Charles gets with Maxwell in any capacity, his father is at the very LEAST never going to speak to him again, ever. And personally I think that is SO fun and sexy, because Charles’ father is a white supremacist and I want him to die painfully forever and ever amen. <3

I got sidetracked a few times here and I just realized I never actually asked the question, which is, TL;DR: If it’s immoral–or at least gross and nonsensical–to ship Charles/Klinger, because Charles is bigoted, shouldn’t the same also apply to shipping Charles with many other characters too, given that they should logically also have a problem with his bigotry?

For what it’s worth, I have a bit of a theory about the answer to this, all to do with the incompetent way Charles’ bigotry (and other characters’ reactions to it) are portrayed in canon and the deeper Doylist factors that I think forced the showrunners into writing it like that, but I wanted to stay strictly on the topic of fandom attitudes for now, because it may be niche and silly, but I find it interesting. And I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on it!

[bobbiedlifeinphil]

Self-Appointed Son Of God | Quiboloy #Shorts

[murdrdocs]

thinking about taking care of jack after a LOOONNGGG day. hes spent hours networking, chatting up crowds etc and all he wants to do is come home to his (controversially younger!) girlfriend and let her jerk him off as she asks about his day

disclaimer: this is a piece of fictional work. although based on real people, the characters—and circumstances—presented are entirely fictional and should be treated as such.

slight power dynamics; handjobs; pet names (honey and baby); clothed sex; MDNI 18+ w/ JACK SCHLOSSBERG

you've always thought that jack looked pretty when he was all dolled up. when his hair was swept off of his clean-shaven face and his slim body perfectly filled up a suit that was tailored just for him. when he unlocked a part of himself that you rarely see, even though it's such a big part of who he is. jack's always pretty to you, even if he glares in the mirror and turns his head this way and that before an event, nonverbally expressing how jarring it still is to see himself like the ones who came before him.

you'll tell him he looks good—whether that be via the words coming out of your mouth, or a restrained kiss that worked to transfer as little makeup as possible. maybe a gentle press of your fingers into his shoulders, or wrapping your arm around his back. either way, it was always honest.

but you truthfully prefer jack when he's like this—leaning back against the bathroom counter, his hair fallen out of the swept back wave, curls visible thanks to the late-summer humidity as well as the heat swirling in the bathroom from the previously running shower. you'd shut it off once jack breathlessly complained about wasting water.

he was right, but you still appeared a little upset about having to stop your task to reach a hand into the water and turn the dial off. you were back on jack within the minute, though.

your hand wrapped around his cock, while you stared up at him attentively, smiling and nodding as if you weren't languidly jerking him off and you both were just having a regular conversation. he's keeping up well, only faltering every so often, usually whenever you twist your hand around his tip every few strokes.

but he recovers quickly, clearing his throat and blinking a few times before picking up where he left off.

"then i had the meeting with my editors after lunch..." he continues detailing the events of his day, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, only drifting off to the side whenever he has to think about something.

you could've undressed him completely, you probably should have, but you like how he looks like this. his pants unbuttoned and shoved down just enough for you to reach into his briefs and tug his dick free. his white shirt—no longer as crisp as it was this morning when you kissed him goodbye—unbuttoned to give way to the thin undershirt he wears. it's been lifted up now by your irreverent hands, sitting towards the top half of his midriff. you have a perfect view of the hair leading down towards his cock, along with his abdomen which tenses and relaxes periodically.

"uh-huh," you nod, glancing down for just a second before bringing your attention right back up.

you're the one getting him off, but his gaze still makes you feel a little hot. the intensity in his dark eyes which are framed by shadows of long lashes. the prominent furrow of his brows when he hesitates, paired with the flicker of his tongue over his lips.

he's so pretty. you don't think you'll ever get tired of looking at him.

"i got a drink from that place we wanted to try." this snaps you out of your daze.

"what? without me?"

jack smiles a bit and your attention is briefly brought to the grooves along the side of his mouth. he speaks through a grin. "sorry, it was on the way!"

"you're a traitor."

"if it makes you feel any better the drink was really—" his words taper off into a moan. it's satisfying to see his eyes screw shut, his mouth falling open.

you would wait for him to continue, to either confirm your suspicions and tell you that the overpriced drink was the best thing he's ever had, or that it wasn't worth his money, but you can tell he's lost his train of thought.

one of his hands lift off of the counter and flail uselessly in the air for a second before it finds you, wrapping around your forearm and then drifting to gently cup your elbow.

"close. 'm close."

as if you needed him to tell you. you can tell, it's written all over him; from the way the center of his eyebrows reach for his hairline, to the way you can feel his dick throbbing in your hand.

the audible slick! gets louder as you increase your pace just enough, determination driving your movements. you keep going, trying to push him closer and closer, waiting for him to tell you what he wants.

his lips hang open, not a single word coming from them, and then he speaks. "talk to me. c'mon, honey. help me out."

you're quick with it. "you're so pretty, baby. i love it when you let me do this. i can feel you, y'know? can feel how bad you wanna come. go ahead. please? for me?"

it gets him every time.

he curves away from you at first, his head falling back, resting between his shoulder blades as the initial spurts of cum shoot out onto your hand. and then he slumps forward, large frame swaying in the air until you catch him. you stumble from the weight, but you're struck still by a long arm winding around your waist, keeping you right there as jack comes into your hand and a little onto your belly.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 4)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

"What is going on, Tommy?" you asked when he came back inside,  still feeling a little uneasy about what you had seen outside.

Thomas hesitated, his eyes darting around the room before settling on your face. "Just business, Love," he said dismissively, but there was a guarded look in his eyes that made you think he was hiding something.

"But what kind of business?" you pressed, your voice tight with apprehension.

"Business that I cannot discuss with you,"  Thomas replied, a hard edge to his voice.

You flinched at this, recoiling slightly from him. "Can't, or won't?" you asked, your eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Thomas sighed heavily, running a hand through his damp hair. "Can't," he said firmly. "It's better that way."

But you couldn't let it go. Something in your gut was telling you that there was more to this than he was letting on, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I am your wife, Thomas. You made me a promise on our wedding day to always be honest with me. I deserve to know what's going on," you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture.

Thomas sighed and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He took a long sip before setting the glass back down on the table with a heavy thud. "I have been asked to export certain things on behalf of the Crown. Things that the Crown cannot itself be seen  to be involved with," Thomas finally admitted, his voice tense and low.

Your eyes widened with shock as you absorbed his words. The Crown? Exporting things that they couldn't be seen to be involved with? What on earth could that mean?

"What kind of things?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

Thomas hesitated before finally answering, "Weapons. Guns. Ammunition," Tommy explained, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Illegal things," you gasped, your heart twisting with a mix of fear and disappointment.

"Not illegal, just controversial," Thomas replied, his voice still low and tense. "And necessary. It helps fund our operations and the facilities we support, including the orphanage you want to work in," he told you and you stared at him, your mind reeling with the implications of his words.

"So, it is legitimate? Because you are doing this on behalf of the crown?"  you asked, struggling to make sense of the information Tommy had just revealed to you.

Tommy nodded. "It's a delicate matter but, of course, I wouldn't do anything illegal. You know that, right?" Thomas asked, his eyes pleading for your understanding.

You nodded slowly, taking in the weight of this new information. "Of course. I trust you , Thomas," you finally whispered, albeit with some hesitation.

Thomas let out a sigh of relief at your words, pulling you into a tight embrace and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he murmured.

But as the night wore on, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was still amiss. The idea of Thomas being involved in such controversial and dangerous business left a bad taste in your mouth, and the thought of him endangering himself for the sake of others weighed heavily on your heart.

The following morning, however, you went on with your day as if nothing had happened. It was your first shift at the orphanage, to which you had agreed last minute as someone else had, apparently, called in sick.

Isiah, was again, tasked to drive you to the orphanage and, when you told him that he could simply drop you off and then pick you up later, he shook his head.

"No, I need to stay with you Mrs Shelby," he  replied, his voice brooking no argument.

You sighed inwardly, not wanting to cause a fuss but also slightly annoyed at the thought of having your every move shadowed by Isiah.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that he was keeping tabs on you for Thomas.

But you swallowed your pride, knowing that it wouldn't be wise to defy Thomas given everything that had happened the previous night. You assumed that he was just being overprotective of you and this was kind of sweet, you thought. 

The orphanage was buzzing when you arrived and a young man, around 25-years of age, greeted you in the grand hall of the big building. His name was James McKinnin , a well-known social worker of the city.

"Hi, it is so nice to meet you. I'm Y/N Shelby, Thomas' wife," you said with a smile, extending your hand towards him.

James clasped your hand firmly and shook it. "Mrs Shelby, of course. I heard that you we were coming," James told you , his voice full of enthusiasm. "Mr Shelby called me yesterday evening, at around midnight, to let me know that you would be joining us and it was quite a surprise, you know. Mr Shelby donates a lot of money to our organisation and I would not have expected his wife to volunteer with us as well," the man continued, his tone earnest as he led me down a long corridor.

"It's my pleasure and a little selfish really. I miss the work but, since I moved in with Thomas, I gave up my employment, so I have become rather bored," you said honestly and James smiled at my response.

"That's very commendable Mrs Shelby, but let me ask you, do you have any experience in a setting like this? Without meaning any disrespect, being Mr Shelby's wife, I had expected you to be a little older,"  James asked, his words laced with polite curiosity.

"No, but I am eager to learn, and I am certainly not afraid to do some hands-on work. Before meeting my husband, I worked in a factory and then in a pub, cleaning up after drunk men, so I am no stranger to hard labor," you replied with a small chuckle.

James smiled warmly at your response, clearly impressed by your determination and down-to-earth attitude. "That's fantastic, Mrs Shelby. I'm sure you'll be a great asset to our team. Let me give you a quick tour and introduce you to the other staff members," James said as he led you further into the orphanage. "Michael, one of our duty managers, will be looking after you and explain everything you need to know,"  he added as he spotted Michael in the distance.

Michael was a tall, slender man in his mid-twenties with short, curly brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile and shook your hand firmly, welcoming you to the orphanage. He then gave you a brief orientation and introduced you to the other staff members, who were all friendly and welcoming as well.

As you worked there, you began to realize just how much need there was in the community and how much of a difference your husband's donations were making.

You felt proud to be a part of it, even in a small way.

That day, Michael showed you everything you needed to know in a commercial kitchen setting, which is where you wanted to work. It was your passion, cooking for others and Michael appeared to be an excellent source of information.

Isiah, however, always stood in the corner, observing your interactions with the tall man who, for his liking, occasionally came to close to you when working in the kitchen.

"Here, let me show you," Michael said on one occasion as he approached you from behind, taking the knife from your hands. "This is an easier way to prepare the herbs for the soup," he said, brushing your arm ever so slightly and causing Isiah to intervene. 

"Everything alright here?" Isiah said, his tone stern and disapproving.

"Yes, of course," you replied, flustered at the intrusion. "Michael is just teaching me how to prepare the herbs for lunch," you added in an attempt to defuse the tension that had suddenly filled the air.

Michael nodded a greeting towards Isiah, who continued to glare at him with suspicion but nodded nonetheless.

Isiah then intervened a few more times over the next few hours, insinuating that Michael was getting too friendly and, eventually, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with his presence.

Despite this, however, the day had been productive and fulfilling for you. You had made new friends, learned new skills, and felt a sense of purpose that had been missing in your life for quite some time.

As the sun began to set, Isiah drove you back to Thomas' luxurious home and, just after Frances greeted you and Isiah, you made your way to Tommy's office.

"You are late," was the first thing he said , not looking up from the documents in front of him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling into the chair opposite him.

"I am sorry, I didn't realize the time," you answered with a small smile. "I was just so engrossed in what we were doing."

This seemed to appease him, and he looked up and smiled at you, reaching across the desk to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said softly.

"I did," you answered, squeezing his hand.

"I really did. I never knew that working in a kitchen could be so fulfilling."

Thomas smiled at your enthusiasm, his eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad," Tommy smiled before asking you for Isiah's whereabouts. 

"He is downstairs," you said. "Shall I send him up?"  you asked, your voice laced with a hint of caution. Thomas' demeanor had shifted again since that morning, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why.

"Yes, I have some business for him to take care of," Thomas replied, his tone curt and dismissive. You nodded and stood up from your chair, making your way to the door. But before you left, you turned back to Thomas and looked him in the eye.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, searching his face for any signs of distress. 

"Yes Love," Tommy said, forcing a smile onto his face. "Everything is fine," he added, although his voice didn't quite ring true.

You frowned at his response, not entirely convinced. But you nodded anyway and made your way to the door, calling for Isiah to come upstairs and, unbeknownst to you, what Tommy really wanted from him was an update on your day. 

"How was it?" Thomas thus asked as soon as Isiah walked into his office and closed the door behind him.

"It was fucking boring ," Isiah replied with a sigh, leaning against the door. "Just a bunch of kids and their annoying chatter," he explained to his boss who, of course, had some more questions.

"And what about the employees. Did they treat my wife with respect?" Tommy asked , his voice low and tense. 

"Of course, they did," Isiah replied with a shrug. "They were all very friendly, although, one of them was a bit too friendly in my opinion," he went on to say , causing Thomas's eyes to narrow.

"How so, Isiah?" Thomas asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Just one of them kept getting a little too close to her," Isiah replied with a shrug.

"Too close how?" Tommy queried with a steely glint in his blue eyes. He didn't like the sound of some man invading your personal space after he had secretly made sure, for many years, that you were shielded from these kinds of advances.  However, as Thomas pressed for more information, Isiah's response was casual and nonchalant.

"Just talking to her a lot, and touching her arm on occasion," Isiah finished, still leaning against the office door.

"He touched her?" Thomas repeated, his voice deceptively calm.

Isiah nodded. "Yeah, a couple of times," he confirmed before, explaining to Tommy again that the employee in question had only touched your arm. "Her arm, Tommy. Nothing else," Isiah clarified, sensing Thomas' growing tension. 

"Did you get his name?" Thomas asked, his voice low and growly as he clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to conceal his anger.

"Yeah. His name is Michael Grosvenor," Isiah told Thomas, his voice steady despite the dangerous look in his boss' eyes.

"Michael Grosvenor, eh" Thomas repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He would remember that name. "Did my wife seem interested in his advances?" Thomas then asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Isiah shook his head. "No, she seemed a little uncomfortable with it after it happened a few times, but she didn't say anything," he answered honestly.

Thomas nodded, his mind already racing with plans of how to handle this situation.

He had always made it clear to the men in town that his property was off-limits, but now it seemed that some of them had forgotten that rule.

"I see," Thomas said simply, his voice deadly calm. He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand in front of Isiah. "I want you to keep an eye on my wife whenever she's at the orphanage. Do you understand?" Thomas ordered, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes, boss," Isiah responded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He nodded once, before turning and exiting the room, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts which began to race incoherently until, eventually, he snapped out of it and walked downstairs to the reading room where he knew he would find you.

"Y/N, may I have a word?" Thomas said, his voice rough and low as he entered the room. He closed the door behind him with a definitive thud, before walking over to you, the sound of your own heavy breathing filling the air around you. 

"Of course," you responded, your voice a breathy whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as Thomas knelt down before you and pulled your legs apart, his gaze fixated on the lacy underwear you were wearing, catching you off guard. 

"Thomas," you gasped, your fingertips digging into the plush armchair you were sitting on as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, just above where your stockings met your skin.

"Isiah tells me that one of the employees at the orphanage got a little too close to you today," Thomas growled, his voice gravelly with desire.

You let out a soft moan as he traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear, the lace already damp with your arousal.

"No, oh god Tommy, it was innocent," you moaned , your head falling back as he pressed a tender kiss to your clit through the thin fabric.

But Thomas wasn't having it. He was insanely jealous and protective of you, and the thought of some man touching his property made him see red.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down your thighs, baring you to him. He growled as he saw how wet you were, your pussy glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Innocent, eh?" Tommy groaned. "Just like you were, just days ago, before we got married,"  he continued, pinching your clit firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

You cried out at the sensation, arching your back as you clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscular arms.

"Tommy," you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you with his fingers. "Please," you begged, not sure what you were asking for, but knowing that you needed more.

"Please what?"  Thomas rasped, his mouth hovering over your pussy as he waited for your response.

"Fuck me," you whimpered, unable to hold back the words any longer. 

"But why should I?" Tommy asked. "You let some stranger touch what's mine and now you want me to give you what you want?"  Thomas growled, his fingers still teasing your clit. 

You whimpered as you processed his words, but the ache between your legs was insistent. 

"He didn't. I mean, he touched my arm. Oh god, please,"  you moaned, pulling his head towards your core, desperate for some kind of release.

Thomas chuckled and obliged, pressing a tender kiss to your clit before slipping a finger inside you. You gasped at the intrusion, your back arching off the chair as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, his thumb still teasing your clit.

You felt yourself building towards your release, but just as you got close, Thomas pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and unfulfilled.

"No, don't stop," you begged, your voice breathy and desperate.

Thomas smiled at you wickedly, his fingers still slick with your arousal. "Tell me who you belong to, Y/N. Who owns you, eh?" Thomas repeated, circling your clit with his thumb as you writhed beneath him. "Say it."

"You do," you gasped, your breath hitching as he stroked your aching core with deliberate slowness.

"Be precise," he demanded, his voice low and raw with need.

"You own me. You own my body. I'm yours," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.

Thomas smiled, a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. He held up his fingers, still slick with your arousal, and sucked them into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

"Good girl," he praised, his eyes dark with desire as he reached for his belt.

You watched him undo the belt, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for what was to come next.

Thomas pulled the belt from the loops of his trousers, the sound of the leather slithering through the buckle echoing in the stillness.

"Tell me again," he commanded, his voice rough and ragged with desire as he approached you, the belt coiled in his hand like a snake ready to strike. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Thomas," you panted, your eyes wide and fixed on the belt in his hand. "I'm yours. Only yours," you confirmed, your voice heavy with desire.

Thomas' eyes blazed with a primal hunger as he lifted the belt and brought it down against your inner thigh with a sharp crack.

You gasped at the sudden sting, your eyes watering with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Thomas watched you carefully, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or distress. But all he saw was your desire-filled gaze locked onto his, inviting him to continue.

He raised the belt again, bringing it down on your other thigh with an equally sharp crack. You whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking up towards him as you begged for more.

Thomas' eyes narrowed as he dropped the belt to the floor with a thud, his hands going straight to your hips to hold you in place. He tugged your legs apart wider, his gaze locked onto the glistening folds of your aching pussy.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing the slick seam of your core.

He spread your arousal over your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing under his touch. "And all mine," he growled, his eyes flashing with a primal hunger as he pushed down his pants , his hard cock springing free.

You moaned as he positioned himself at your entrance, notching the tip of his shaft against your slick folds. "Yes," you hissed, digging your nails into his shoulders as you arched your back, ready for him.

Thomas thrust into you in one swift movement, filling you to the hilt. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he buried himself inside you.

Thomas groaned as he felt you tighten around him, your walls clenching him like a vice.

"Fuck, Y/N," Thomas growled, his hips pistoning in and out of you in a punishing rhythm. He reached down between your bodies and found your swollen clit with his thumb. He pressed down on it, rubbing it in slow circles as he continued to thrust into you.

You moaned as he touched you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

Thomas was merciless, his hips slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.

Thomas reached down and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing gently as he powered into you. You whimpered at the feeling of his hand on your throat, your pussy clenching around his cock in response.

"You like that, don't you?" Thomas growled, his voice low and raw with desire. He had never taken you like this before, so possessively and it quickly became overwhelming for you.

The hand around your neck, the unyielding thrusts, and the sound of his hips slapping against yours. The pleasure was so intense that it bordered on pain. But, before you knew it, your orgasm was already creeping up on you. With every circling motion of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

"Come for me, Y/N," Thomas rasped through gritted teeth as he continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace.

"I want to feel you come all over my cock."

Your breath hitched as the heat within you coiled tightly, ready to unravel at any moment. Your legs shook around Thomas' waist, trying to keep contact as he hit your sweetspot over and over again.

With one last, hard circle of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you cried out as you toppled over the edge. Your orgasm tore through your body like a freight train, leaving you panting and trembling in its wake.

Thomas groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, milking his cock as you came. He continued to piston in and out of you, chasing after his own release which came much faster than he had expected.

Pulling out of you quickly, he cupped your mound, his fingers massaging and teasing the sensitive folds of skin as he watched you come down from your orgasm while he stroked his cock.  He was so turned on by the sight of your pleasure that he couldn't help but take his own.

"Touch yourself, Y/N," he growled. "I want to watch you make yourself cum again, Love," he told you and so you did. 

Your fingers hovered above for a moment before brushing over the sensitive nub of your clit.  You gasped at the contact, your hips bucking as you felt yourself growing more and more aroused.

Thomas' eyes blazed with desire as he watched you touch yourself, his hand continuing to stroke his cock in long, languid movements. He groaned as he saw your pink flesh flush a deep red, your arousal unmistakable.

"Yes, just like that," Thomas rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "Make yourself come again."

You whimpered at his words, your fingers moving faster over your clit as your pleasure mounted.

"Oh god, Thomas," you gasped, your legs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Thomas groaned, his hand moving faster as he watched you touch yourself until, finally, he too came, hard and fast.

He grunted as he spilled his seed onto your stomach, the thick, white ropes of his release painting your skin in a primal display of possession.

You watched him, your chest heaving as you caught your breath, your pussy still clenching in aftershocks of pleasure. Thomas' eyes met yours, the dark desire in them sending another flush of heat through your body.

"Jealousy suits you , Tommy," you whispered, your fingers still stroking your sensitive clit.

Thomas chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "I'm not jealous, Y/N. But what's mine is mine and  I won't have anyone else touching it," Thomas growled, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip as you lay panting beneath him, his tone determined. 

"Nothing happened," you reassured him, your voice softer than a whisper. "It was just a small touch. It was inadvertent, innocent and it meant nothing."

Thomas nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before pulling up his pants. 

"I can't help it, Y/N," Thomas admitted, his voice low and rough. "I need to know that you're mine.

Only mine," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. 

"I am," you whispered, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him weak at the knees. "I've always been yours, Tommy. Only yours," you repeated, emphasizing the words that seemed to drive him wild and, whilst you had boyfriends before him, none of these relationships really lasted.

One of the men you had been with before meeting Tommy was killed in a fire following your second date while the other had disappeared without a trace, as had your brother. Men seemed to always have abandened you until now.

Until Thomas Shelby. Thomas had been a constant force in your life. Never leaving, never giving up on you and always making sure that you were safe and secure. But as much as you belonged to him, he belonged to you too. 

Tags:

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[zweiginator]

hey queen hope law school is going as good as it can be all things considered! i had a dream that i was mike faist’s controversially young gf and it was so amazing and i hated waking up but i love the thought yk and i love daydreaming about being art’s pretty young thing and #yea! #im yapping and trying to fill your asks but also genuinely hoping you’re doing well!

getting dinner with dilf!art as his younger girlfriend and going out to get ice cream afterwards, the two of you in pristine outfits since the restaurant was so fancy. art getting ice cream on his thumb and pushing it into your mouth and he gets so turned on as you blink up at him and swirl your tongue around his digit , moaning at the creamy sweetness.

art being obsessed with you, needing you. acting like he’s twenty years younger as he pushes your panties to the side and sinks you down on his cock in the backseat of his SUV. thank god his windows are tinted and you can taste the chocolate on his tongue and he can taste the strawberry on yours. him being so in love with you and mumbling whiny fucks into your mouth as you mewl and scratch down his pale chest.

working your body up and down and art kneads the skin of your ass in his palms and says he’s gonna cum inside you as he exposes your throat to him.

“wanna have my fucking kids?”

and you’re only in your early twenties but you nod and beg for it and art would be stupid not to give his girl what she wants.

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist 2

Mr. Always Wins, so far above me in every sense - Max takes another win, and a disappointed Lando leans on Y/N

I see you every day now - Flashback to April 2020 when Max and Y/N first moved in together

All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride - Max’s podcast goes live, and Max and Y/N attend a wedding. Later, Y/N admits her frustrations to Daniel

I think he can see through everything but my heart - Max and Y/N vacation in Brazil, and Max covers Time magazine

So many things that you wish I knew, so many walls up, I can’t break through - Y/N goes to Sao Paolo to see Lando while Max heads to the UK. Meanwhile, Max opens up to Vic

This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less - Y/N and Lando take Las Vegas while Max is back in Europe. But both Y/N and Max keep tabs on each other through others

I can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body - Y/N attends Velocity Invitational with Lando, which stirs controversy on both sides of the pond

I can see you starin’ honey, like he’s just your understudy - It’s Lando’s birthday. In Europe, Max streams with Redline

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing…like any true love, it drives you crazy - Clara and Max arrive in Vegas and Clara lets Lando in on a well known secret

I don’t even dare to wish it - It’s Y/N’s birthday, but she has to deal with the fallout of Clara’s drunken confession

I think he knows - Y/N and her friends celebrate her birthday, which seems to give something to celebrate…or run from

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch - The Vegas circus begins with a dramatic opening ceremony, followed by a gala event

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night - Y/N and Max continue to miss each other, and the weekend gets off to a chaotic start on track

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick - Y/N attends Martin’s set and has a vulnerable moment with Max that goes awry

I’m capitulated by you,baby, like a firework show - Max wins in Las Vegas and Y/N puts aside the awkwardness to be happy for him

And that was the moment I knew - Max hosts Y/N’s birthday party, and gives her a huge present with unexpected results

Nothing safe is worth the drive - Max and Y/N have an open and honest conversation

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - Max and Y/N leave Las Vegas just in time

Meet me in the afterglow - Y/N and Max spend a day in the desert and Lando puts the pieces together thanks to fruit

We’re burned for better - Mick makes an announcement, and the world once again speculates about Y/N’s love life

When they point to the pictures - Bonus part of Y/N sharing past memories

Our daddies used to joke about the two of us - Max and Y/N have dinner with their fathers after a nervous FP1 for Max

May these memories break our fall - Bonus part where Y/N shared memories near the end of the season

What would you do, if they never found us out? - Rumours swirl about Max and Y/N…for the final time

We will be remembered - And with that, the 2023 season comes to an end

✨There was one prize I’d cheat to win - Max and Emilia attend the Longines World Champions Tour✨

[gladiatorcunt]

- BEDROCK | XII.

you’re a bottled star, the planets align, you’re just like mars. you shine in the sky

cw: kinktober prompt (sex toys), reader has a pussy, age gap (ur bsf ahsoka’s former master!anakin (40’s) obi wan (50’s)’s padawan!reader in her early 20’s), dub con, implied obikin x reader codependency, dismemberment fantasies, reader is lowkey a stalker freak, no direct touching between anakin and reader ofher than chest fondling, strongly implied voyeurism that’s non consensual but unavoidable and unwanted by both of you, eventual sith!anakin, obi wan haunts the narrative, frequent use of ‘little one’, dead dove do not eat, reader became a padawan in their late teens

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“You know they’re going to expect their toys to be put to good use.” Master Skywalker shrugs and tiredly grumbles down at you.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, recuperating from the first day of your undercover mission. Your own Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was on one of his infamous negotiation tours, so to speak, you had never cared for them, you couldn't spin pleasantries like yarn any better than a Rakghoul could dance.

Obi-Wan could only stomach taking you on because you parallel Anakin in so many ways, Anakin could only accept his former master taking another padawan because maybe your added seriousness will ease the aggravation caused by the one before you.

You were just happy to be chosen, as any child-waited-too-long-unwanted-teenager plucked from the tense comfort of their home would be, even if that home is only a basic imitation of a shelter.

“I know, Master.” These blasted things, growing up the other padawans would giggle with you over these provocative missions, usually a padawan donning the skin of a schutta on the end of a leash held by their Masters. “Do they have to be so… unique?”

It was as nice as Obi-Wan would’ve wanted you to be, even in these circumstances.

Would he take on Master Skywalker’s role with as much confidence and clarity as the true born son of the Force? Rumors of both the men’s appeal and promiscuity do not guarantee a willingness to rut into a padawan, a dance of demons spoken of in the archives, a beast in the vein of and important to some future single world than your own.

“Unique? How so? I know you’re not like some padawans and keep to yourself, little one, but Jedi your age talk. I’m not naive, neither is Obi-Wan.”

Master Skywalker might as well have carved the kyber crystal of his saber into your face, the flame that crackles under the surface of your skin bears his scent, stormy as his heavy gaze often is.

“Apologies, Master, i never meant to-”

“Shush.” He chuckles, “You can call me Anakin, I hope you’re aware of that. Mace Windu is not going to barge in here and strike you down for being informal. It’s just us, little one. I’m not even your real master, just doing pet sitting for an old friend.”

You blink, lava swirling in your gut at the implication of being a pet before a person. “Anakin.” Your mouth twists around the unused syllables, never having referred to a master by their first name in your entire life. “But the mission, we’re supposed to um…… you said they’d notice if we didn’t do……. anything.”

Another chuckle, another curl tucked behind his ear. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that we came to this planet as a wealthy ship salesman and his controversially younger companion. This place is too seedy to not have eyes and ears everywhere, they’d take it as an insult if we declined to use their… gifts. The success of this mission would mean another smuggler and secret trader being taken down, Obi-Wan and I both think you’re ready for riskier missions like this one. You’ll do fine, little one.”

“I’m trying to release my fear and anger into the force, Master- Anakin. I thank you and Master for seeing this in me but I've never done anything like this before. Are people really going to hear us… have sex?”

“That’s why we’re speaking so softly, padawan, it’s not the noises they’re looking to witness, but you can never be too careful.” Anakin smiles, patting your cheek firmly. “And we don’t necessarily have to do anything like that, just use the toys and leave them on the bed for servants to find, messy and thoroughly used. The nobleman will be pleased, if the information painting him as a pervert is accurate.”

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have spoken to you quite so crassly, but he does like to tease you that the sand scratching Anakin’s tongue never goes away, there’s always another grain when you think it’s spotless and clean. Like the temple or one of the many mighty metal spires, the sterile trees of Coruscant.

You nod, nevertheless. “There’s no use putting it off. The schedule we studied says the workers will stop by first thing in the morning.” Your nerves are obvious, picking your nails, biting your lip, adjusting the folds of your skimpy outfit to conceal skin it will never stretch far enough to cover.

Anakin’s eyes soften, the wrinkles in his outer eye corners deepen. “I’m only sorry I won’t be the only one to hear you cum for the first time, but they’ll never touch you, and they won’t get to know what you sound like doing everything. Trust me, little one, you’re in the safest place you could be right now, my general vicinity.”

It’s not as funny, or as hot, as you’d expect it to be. As shy as you are, you’re constantly surprised by how quick you are to embrace arousal in the urge to renounce shame. If your blood temperature rises to a boiling point, the big ball of anxious knots in your knot could be singed through until it falls apart.

You do not feel any great embarrassment of the simple truth that you have a crush on Anakin Skywalker, many do, you’d be at the tail end of a long line of various species of various ages and with various expectations of what they want their bodies to go through.

It’s silly to be possessive of a man you only share a master with, who stops by to chat when he’s not tinkering away at something or doing some death defying stunt on a mission that’s going to drive the council to insanity one of these days.

You are jealous of Ahsoka Tano however, your closest friend, even after she’s transferred to another Master, the result of some great big falling out.

It is far better that you were not assigned to be his padawan, the Force would have bled with your desire and dissipated entirely to get away from it.

Master Skywalker picks up one of the toys lying there on the bed in between you, a realistic tongue that disturbs you just a bit more than it arouses you. He chuckles at the apprehension on your face and motions for you to get comfortable. He reaches around you with one arm and bundles you up in his lap, your back to his firm chest.

He shushes your nervousness sounds and attempts to ramble, not fully apologetic as he peels back the layers of your tunic top. Your chest bounces into view, free from the confines of the tight fabric. Anakin gives you absolutely no time to be shy about them, groping one in his free hand. The force beams with his amusement when you gasp, the calluses on his fingers feel like they’re marking the skin of your mound, he kneads and kneads for a moment, perfectly content to let you squirm until you can get used to what else he’ll have to subject you to.

Maybe that’s where the hotness in these missions lies, you both want this on a baseline level but there are things you have to bend your own line in the sand to allow. Pushing your limits under the shyness-inducing gaze of Master Skywalker in these uncomfortably close walls and on a mission where you’re free to be other people might very well be your only chance. You’ve never broken a single rule at the temple, you’re a shining example of what a padawan learner should be. Master Obi-Wan often jokes that he wishes you were around to be his padawan the first time around, but there’s always a note of sadness hanging onto his stilted laughter.

You arch your back against Anakin, bracing your hands behind you and burying them in his hair. He groans as you gently tug the curls, and gives it right back to you by lowering the realistic tongue to your left nipple. You flinch, the surprisingly cold silicone model of a muscle flicks against your perky nub on Anakin’s command, and he’s commanding it to torture you to death. Relentless flicks of the toy against your nipple make you squirm again, wanting so badly to be good but you’d much rather ensure the toy was in constant contact with your chest.

It’s the perfect temperature, you run hot most days, and the brief sensation sends shivers from your head to your toes, just a hint of pleasure since Anakin stopped his own touching, sitting as still as a statue as he works the toy on you. He hooks his chin in your shoulder to gawk, transferring the device from one slick nipple to the other until both are so thoroughly coated that it drips onto your soft tummy.

“See, that feels good right, little one? There’s nothing to worry about, this is all we’ll do until it’s time for bed and then we’ll put these things away.”

You nod, whining like a spoiled noble family member now, pouting when he takes the tongue away from your nipple and throws it haphazardly over his shoulder. You cringe, wondering if the loud clang it yells into the concrete floor’s ears reached those in the shadows, you were trying to ignore them but now that there was a single moment of quiet there lecherous eavesdropping was all you could imagine.

A thick hand clamps around your chin and jerks you in the bearer’s direction, Master Skywalker clicks his tongue against his teeth, “They’re nothing to you, especially not right now. If you’d only let yourself go, they’d fade away entirely in your mind, I was trying to be easy on you but clearly you’re in need of something stronger if your head is still on the surface of this planet.”

Something stronger, being a large vibrator, 15 inches and a swirl of mint green and lavender, in the shape of a tentacle, every suction cup has the ability to well… suck. These are all things Anakin relays to you while rearranging your form to his liking, legs spread wide over his thighs, arms behind your back but not restrained, and after some lifting, your robes in a beige pile by the gaudy bed.

Master Skywalker can be merciful occasionally, he doesn’t force you to make eye contact as he lowers the vibrating toy to the altar between your legs. He also doesn’t comment on the pitiful whimper you let out, the vibrations haven’t even started, but you feel the force explode in pleasant-happy-power-trip blood orange. You drink up the calming waves he sends to you, wrapping them around your naked form like the comfiest and plushest blanket, the waves you offer to him in return are clingy little ripples in a pond. Needy repetition of hints to feelings that cannot leave this room alive.

He gets a glimpse of a fantasy, for a mere second before it vanishes out of view, a tantalizing and fascinating shooting star.

“No we can’t stop, you have to let it out.” You raise your hips up higher, face down ass up, your holes wink at him in intervals, angel wings flapping in the corner of his mind, like all the love he has for you will leak out into his cum and if he can just go that, then everything will be fine.

The vibrator doesn’t start at an easy to handle low frequency, your howling is drowned out by the intense humming of its second highest setting.

Your hips jolt, Anakin works the toy in slow circles over your clit, cooing when you jerk and squirm around. Your already throbbing clit is pulsing so hard it almost feels like a constant pain, but you’re so karkking wet that you push your hips up into his ministrations. You chase after the persistent buzzing with more determination than any of your meditation sessions, suddenly cumming on Master Skywalker’s lap is far more important to you than all the missions in the world. Blurry blobs with their ears to the structure around you shift to crumble beneath your increasingly loud cries.

Your pleasure snowballs, Anakin’s earlier attention to your nipples the mountain out of a molehill and his current fascination with your cunt the crashing wave threatening to envelop you in its fold. Like the ones Master Obi-Wan used to tell you about on Kamino, angry and dark cobalt blue, lapping at the ankles of the once elusive white buildings. It’s easy to split yourself into different pieces, assign each one to a part of nature because the force is telling you that your pleasure is as natural as grief and plant life and twin cotton candy pink to red suns and love and mistakes and giant bone dragons with pearls for landmark hearts.

The steady pulsing on your clit punches the gasps out of you, a steady stream of short-for-breath aimless chatter. You’re soaking Master Skywalker’s lap all the way down to the bed, if you mentioned them he’d probably tell you to leave how you ruined them. The smell and stain would only bring you greater protection from being found out, yet your stomach twists at the thought.

The force blooms violet with your fear, as if you’re deathly afraid of your own orgasm, lazy unenthusiastic rutting into your semi-firm mattress back in the dorm is nothing compared to actually touching yourself with the intent to cum. You just got too scared the first time you tried to slip your fingers in your tight snatch and frustratingly resigned yourself to never understanding what your peers go on and on about. Giggling into their portions of bland oatmeal and exchanging charged glances, hormones are far more powerful when they’re being repressed.

Master Obi-Wan had no trouble modestly applauding your emotional regulation skills, unlike his former padawan you had less trouble settling the wriggling bundle of your feelings in a see through boat and pushing it along the stream of starlight until it gave way and became one with the connecting tissue underneath.

“You’ll lose your voice at this rate, little one.” Anakin huns into your ear, his mech arm holding you so tight to his chest his ribs might crack open and swallow you whole. “You’re a better actress than I thought you’d be, unless all this whining and carrying on is genuine?”

You can’t even get a word out before he presses the vibe closer to your pussy, the swarm of tiny little mouths the orchestra and the largest one at the tip of the tentacle hugging your clit the conductor. Your breath hitches as you tremble and whine, a high pitched thing that pierces the air. Anakin grins, lips split wider than the length of the cruiser the council provided to get her, he moves the toy up and down between your folds. A fake cock warming itself in the snug hold of your pussy, sending little jolts of phantom electricity to fizz and sparkle on your tastebuds through your core up out your mouth.

“I’m- I’m not acting, Master. Kark! You’re- ngh- going to, um, y-you’re going too fast, Master, please.” You beg, throwing your head back on his shoulder and counting the dots that make up the constellations in your visions.

It’s too much pressure, Anakin plays with the silk fabric of your outfit like it’s something for his hands to do, like he’s not keeping a vibrator right on your clit and holding you down so you have no choice but to take it. You can’t help but think of the ways your real master would be different, he’d try his hardest and wait out the time the longest but would that stuffy old man end up performing this same brand of torture?

Not that Master Skywalker is much younger, from your position on his lap the signs are aging are right above your face. The cheek scar you learned months ago he’s had for decades The wrinkles, eyes, mouth, forehead, the permanent halfway tense halfway slack skin from all the stress he endured in the war, the ghosts living in his irises, his weathered hands splayed out burning hot steam to the touch on your belly. Right above your womb, he could just dig in and sink his fingers metal and skin knuckle deep.

“Aren’t you adorable? You’ve been taking it so far, you haven’t fallen yet, little star, I bet you can keep going. Stop rushing this, just relax and feel these hungry mouths coaxing you to splash against them, settle into their demanding chants.” Anakin soothes, unhurriedly dragging his blunt nails over your love handles, “I would say this body is wasted on those arid robes, on the Jedi Order, you’d be such a beautiful dancer like you were after dinner, but Obi-Wan would kill me if he found out.”

The dinner with the nobles, the party afterwards, the target had his lizard tongue hanging from his mouth when he asked you and the other “accessories” to put on a show. The force twirled in displeased crimson skies then.

You don’t insult Master Skywalker’s intelligence out loud, but you both plainly speak frequently to the same word of the day calendar.

You want to give him one of your arms, unholster your lightsaber and sever the flesh from your spirit. He wouldn’t be able to use it and you wouldn’t ask him too, he can just have it, so he can understand how alike you are, to know that you too will always wander around with a missing part of you. But how can it be truly missing if you gave it willingly? Master Obi-Wan can have your lonely other, in a fiery pyrrhic instant you are pure force and limbless.

You’d roll the turquoise pendant of the necklace he’d bring you, a souvenir from a stubborn vendor on an outer rim planet, in the lines on your palm like it’s one of his eyes.

Anakin suffocates the vibe in your pussy and doesn’t let the suction cups breathe until you’ve spontaneously combusted, before you can say knife

“It’s not funny, I really didn’t like it, Master.” You liked it too much, the flickers of yellow embers in his eyes, his grip so tight on your chub that you pictured him with sharp black claws, shacking up with a man you barely know but at the same time are too close to.

You used to fall asleep recounting the details of Anakin’s life and accomplishments, each tidbit represented a sheep for you, the biggest punishment to you back then meant being banned from the archives or blocked from news sites on the holonet.

You studied the man whose shadow you would wear over your robes like a shawl, until you were convinced you could jet set off to Tatooine and be able to point out which patches of sand his feet had tread upon. You just never once stopped to consider that he was doing the same with you, what kind of sun bothers himself with the comings and goings of a dead star so far away from their incinerating orbit.

“I don’t like that you like when i’m scared, it makes me feel… sick.” You could cum so hard you’d fall off the temple roof into Coruscant’s lower levels, be one of the ghosts wandering throughout the dreary gray tunnels but instead be moaning for cock that’d still be alive.

“I’ll hold your hair back and nurse you back to health, I’m in for it if I give old man Obi another padawan death scare.” He wiggles the digits of his mechanical arm sardonically, he knows what you mean but he also knows that you don’t mean it so he gives you the same amount of humor he sensed in your mutterings.

Master Skywalker is appreciated for his ability to be both tremendously serious on the battlefield and lighthearted with his colleagues, Anakin loves to tease shy early 20 somethings who volunteer him to be the replacement caretaker for their own master. He tosses and turns that night, not because of the impending result of the mission, all he’ll say in his husky morning voice is that he had a bad dream. You should make a break for the cruiser after embarrassingly exchanging pleasantries, Master Obi-Wan and the rest of the temple are expecting you home before your scheduled progress testing sparring session.

For now, the vibrator’s highest setting will be the instrument, the conduit to the music your moans create, interwoven with Anakin’s hot musk. Oil and dirty water.

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Torn from the future- Chapter 1

Tom Riddle X Fem!Reader

Summary- After tampering with a Time Turner, you find yourself back in 1942. You decide that your best chance of improving the future is by befriending a certain man named Tom Riddle. You've heard of him before, but never in a positive light. Will you be his key to power or salvation?

Warnings for this chapter- Mentions of death and war, Stealing

Time travel has always been controversial in the Wizarding World. The Ministry in particular has taken to keeping any form of Time Travel under wraps as to prevent Wizards from dabbling in the illegal form of magical transportation.

Now with the Second Wizarding War quickly approaching, this dangerous threat was overruled by your desperation to change the past and prevent this whole mess from happening. The sorrows of your friends, the loss, the unnecessary violence and rift between wizards and muggles, even further than it already was.

Hermione had recently been popping in and out of lessons unnoticed and denied knowing what you or your friends had accused her of. You knew she had a Time Turner. If you had that, you could find a way to fix things yourself.

The smart thing to do would be to inform your friends so that they could help you but losing them was something that you couldn't bear. Your only hope was to take the time turner and figure it out alone.

Luckily there was no need to fret about your plan since you shared a dorm room with her. You waited until nightfall when the famous Golden Trio left Gryffindor tower, claiming to be sick yourself to stay behind and search for the it

The thing about your dear friend was that she was a perfectionist, not only in her schoolwork, but especially in her living quarters. If even a single paper was out of place, she would scream at you for days. But at times like this, where the whole group was stressed enough as it was, you could easily get by that little issue... hopefully.

Going through her belongings proved more difficult than initially intended, considering you never actually witnessed her putting the Time Turner anywhere away in your dorm, at least not while the both of you were present. She was actually quite protective of the thing, which you could understand given the gravity behind it all.

Digging through the trunk at the bottom of her bed, you searched through a dozen sweaters before finding a hidden compartment tucked away in the bottom corner. Surprisingly it seemed that Hermione had opted to leave the thing behind, too afraid of losing it on their unpredictable outing.

Hurriedly tucking the pocket watch into your bag, along with your journal, you got up from the floor of your dorm and made your way out of Gryffindor Tower.

Hours ticked by with you sitting on the ground of the restricted section. Books were scattered open around you in a circle while you chewed absentmindedly on your thumb nail, a nervous habit that you were too focused to pay attention to at the moment.

Thoughts and plans, one after another swirled in your mind continuously. A headache began forming from it, as you continued to reach dead ends. No plans that you came up with seemed to work well enough. Not to mention the fact that you never actually learned how to use the Time Turner before stealing it. You blamed that fact on your stress and desperation. Normally, you would plan out your actions meticulously but not this time.

Finally, it hit you. Harry's parents, Sirius and Remus, Even Regulus. You could save them all and prevent the heartache. It was simple in your mind, you would go back to the 1970's to save as many people as you possibly could. Maybe you could warn them somehow, or at least prepare them ahead of time for what was to come. It was the only way.

It's not as if you were afraid of participating in the war alongside your friends, it was just that you couldn't possibly stand by and watch your friends die beside you in the bloodshed and horror of war.

Pulling out the pocket watch from your bag, you decided to take the Time Turner apart piece by piece and rewire it to take you further back in time. Normal Time Turners would only send you back a maximum of five hours, which wouldn't have worked for anything you had planned.

Consequences by damned, you thought as you opened the Time Turner and began poking around at the mechanisms inside. The diagrams in the book made absolutely no sense. They only contained detailed drawings of the watch, but previously there had been no history of ever tampering with one.

Ticking began to get louder and louder. The books on the shelves rattled violently as if sensing the worst. You raised your eyes from the Time Turner in your hand and your eyes widened slightly, looking around to see what was happening.

Your finger slipped and accidentally grazed a metal coil that was exposed. Blood dripped down and the watch sizzled from the intrusion. A bright flash of light startled you and threw you back into the bookshelf, causing a copy of Dark Witches and Wizards Through History to crash down on your head.

Time shifted, books disappearing from their place on the shelves, dust cleared, and the watch rattled as you tried to clasp it tightly. Instantly the world faded and the last thing your blurry vision saw was the room spinning fast as you collapsed to the floor.

The creaking of footsteps in the library outside the Restricted Section was what woke you up. Your head pounded and you lifted your hand to place it on the top of your head. Sitting up to regain your balance, you rested your back against the bookshelf, albeit much more carefully than before.

There were no books on the ground anymore, it was only you alone. That should've been your first indication that something wasn't right, but your head hurt far too much for you to worry about your current surroundings.

After shoving the pieces of the Time Turner back into your bag, you finally stood up and made your way out of the library, cautiously avoiding the librarian or wandering Prefects. The only thing on your mind was getting back to your dorm and figuring your next course of action.

The hallways were deathly quiet, not a single person in sight. It must've been far later in the night than you had remembered.

You had almost made it to the Gryffindor Tower when you heard a deep voice speak from behind you.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, his voice calm and authoritative. You must've gotten stopped by a teacher. Being prepared for a lecture, you raised your hands as you slowly turned around to face him.

"I was-" Your eyes widened as you saw him, words failing you. This boy was around your age, with dark eyes that bore into your soul.

He raised his eyebrow, the tiniest hint of acknowledgment before his expression became emotionless once more. "I know everyone in this school and I have never seen you before. Follow me"

It wasn't a request as he walked ahead, down the hallway. Never once did he look back, clearly expecting you to follow behind blindly. You weren't sure if it was the headache, but you obeyed for the time being.

A/N- Please like/repost/comment and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is always encouraged and appreciated. If I left out an important trigger warning, please let me know and ill add it.

This Series is inspired by Time Warp, written by @astonishment, but I won't be tagging them in every part since that would probably be annoying. I definitely recommend reading their series! Thank you again for letting me use the idea as the basis for me series.

Misc Credits:

Dark Mark Divider- @firefly-graphics

Diamond Divider- @troublesomesnitch

Header- Me

[4theluvofsapphos]

Butterfingers - ch.1

pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Futch Mechanic!Reader

a/n: HI FIRST MEL FIC AHFUDJ the worms…the voices…. anyways i don’t usually describe reader since i know that can take away from the experience but a tall buff himbo futch reader x a petite angry italian is just too good 😭 enjoy! i plan for there for be some possible smutty smut in the FARRRR future but this is first and foremost melissa learning how to love again!!-

chapter 2 here

“I didn’t know we had a new vending machine guy! Gregory, we have a new vending machine guy!” Janine looked to Gregory, who in turn nodded and looked up from his laptop.

“I noticed…uh- hi, by the way. That’s Janine, I’m Gregory.”

You looked to the two from your kneeling position by the old vending machine, matching names to faces before clearing your throat to introduce yourself in turn.

“Hi Gregory, Janine…my name I-“

“Who the HELL took my mug?!” A loud voice bellowed from across the room, the doorway now occupied by a stout looking redhead, and an angry one at that.

“…Which mug? Oh..” Gregory immediately blurted out, looking from his to the sink’s counter. “I thought- I figured this was a communal mug, was this- not a communal mug? I’m sorry, I- I’ll just go get a new mug for you Melissa-“

The fiery features of the redhead son softened, her brow knitting together in confusion. “Did ya not read the front? It says ‘Schemmenti’s the best teacher ever’ on the front, see?” The woman marched over to where Gregory stood, spinning the mug around with her one hand and pointing with the other.

“Right, okay. To be fair, I am not enough of a cryptologist to decipher 2nd grader writing. But now that you said it- I…I definitely see it, yeah.”

—————————————————

You stayed kneeled on the floor, Janine blocking your view slightly, and Gregory standing in the way of the redhead’s sightline. She hadn’t yet seen you, and you didn’t know whether to feel grateful or petrified…A mixture of both swirled in the pit of your stomach, growing heavier with each passing moment. Janine then turned to look at you, smiling sheepishly and sidestepping to walk towards the pair.

“Hey so Melissa- Uhm…you left the mug here yesterday, so I cleaned it for you and put it on the rack to dry. I’m sorry if that was what caused all this.” The woman, who’s name you now knew was Melissa, seemed dissatisfied with this explanation.

“Look hon, next time you don’t know, just ask?”

“Sure, yes, of course! You’re right. Sorry Melissa.” The young teacher bowed her head, nodding in agreement and proceeding to stand awkwardly next to Melissa for the next minute or so in silence.

—————————————————

After Gregory had settled back into his seat, the previously controversial mug now emptied into a default ‘employee lounge’ mug. You had continued your work quietly, not looking at the room much to avoid the palpable tension. As a couple more teachers filed in, a young twinkish teacher, and a teacher that seemed around Melissa’s age. She gave you a small smile, introducing herself as Barbara. In return, you told her your name, shaking her hand gently, before asking if she had any requests for the machine.

“Me? Oh, no.” She waved the question off with a dismissive hand,”However, if you want to make some friends, I’d ask the others.” She then gestured to the few that sat a few feet away.

“Gushers. Please.” Janine blurted, grinning. “The other guy used to bring in Gushers, but since Meliss-“ Gregory held up his hand, cutting off his coworker.

”Nah ah ah- not important. You want Gushers- she wants Gushers, please.” Janine nodded excitedly, and you smiled back.

“Uhh, Gushers? Sure! I can probably find something at the warehouse.”

“I got a guy that works at a candy store.” A voice piped up from the table to your right. You looked to see it was Melissa, fork in hand, what looked to be some leftover ‘rigatoni Calabrese’ in her Tupperware.

“Oh! It’s no worries. I remember seeing a few packages on the east wing by the back. I can bring them tomorrow, if I have time.” You reply, standing up to talk properly with the others. Melissa watched you carefully, seeming to hold your gaze with a challenge behind her own. For what, you weren’t sure…But you were feeling the heat from her, and it was making your palms sweat. It wasn’t about the fact that she was glaring you down— it was the way she was doing it that made you nervous. You weren’t a small girl by any means. You were nearly 6’2”, with enough workouts in you to put a bouncer to sleep. The problem was that you knew she didn’t like you.

Melissa glared with contempt. Behind her eyes, the gears were churning up something ugly.

You weren’t the guy she knew, why should she trust you? The last one went horribly wrong, why wouldn’t this one?

Regardless of your social standing with her, you took a few steps towards her, offering your best smile. “Well, do you want anything for the vending machine? I have no problem stocking it.”

You had been working there for a few days at this point, but most of your job consisted of doing maintenance on the vending machines in the cafeteria and halls. But after your employer noted an extra vending machine in a non-documented area, you did some digging and found that the previous technician noted an extra vending machine in the employee lounge…thus— here you were.

Melissa replied by shooting you a pointed look. “No. I’m fine.” After a long pause, she tacked on a little ‘thanks, though’ at the end. You nodded, taking your queue to head back to the machine. As you finished loading the already available inventory, the teachers all began to head back to their classrooms.

—————————————————

When you got up, you expected to see the room empty. You were wrong— Melissa stood behind you, her controversial mug in hand, and an unreadable look on her face. You cracked a little smile, clearing the hair from your face and setting down the empty box you were about to leave with.

“You got Butterfingers?” She asked, raising a brow.

“Oh- I don’t- I’m sorry! Did I drop something?” You looked around the floor, trying to think if you recall dropping any inventory while you were stocking.

“No! I meant the candy, hon.” She sighed, pinching her brow and shaking her head slightly. You felt your face go red with embarrassment at the misunderstanding. She seemed to be amused, but you felt stupid.

“That- that makes a lot more sense. I have Butterfingers, yeah! Would you like me to stock some..?” She thought for a moment, and shook her head.

“It’s— kind of a guilty pleasure. You think ya got any more discreet ways to slip me one or two every now and then?”

You looked to the machine, then back to Melissa, before nodding. “I can do that…no problemo!” You gave her a little thumbs up, picking up your empty box, before heading for the door.

She followed after you, giving you a small smile and nodding. “Maybe you ain’t so bad. Thanks, hon…my name’s Melissa, by the way.” She held the door with her foot, looking up at you when she spoke.

You looked over to her, chuckling lightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Melissa. I’m y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Before you headed down the hall, you looked to her coat. It was a nice leather jacket that you felt matched her tough exterior. “I like your jacket, by the way. It suits you.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” She offered, but the appreciation seemed rehearsed. Something in her eyes faltered, before she turned on her heel and quickly left in the direction of what you presumed to be her classroom.

Melissa Schemmenti was an enigma to you. But you would figure her out eventually. It couldn’t hurt…could it?

[tomas-smoked-sasuage]

MK1 Kast reaction to AOU! Scarlet Witch! Reader (Earthrealm Addition)

*I don't want any controversies, I'm a sucker for Wanda, FYI, you're Johnny's assistant*

Warning??: Down Grading, Johnny wanting you in his movie, Geras being threatened, me doing side events with this one, Liu Kang Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon

Requests are available

LIU KANG

He already knew...

I mean what, you were in the last timeline, but neutral? You had your reasons for being evil (or so you would say), but also good

Much of speaking, you won't necessarily die or be erased from history, because without chaos, there would be no balance in the universe

So he has options to either Shinjuku mind erase your ass and restart or seal, cause yea...

He finds your power intriguing the more you learn and develop, there even somethings he didn't see you do previous timeline

You also almost killed a few of his students "accidentally" per say

He also finds out you have relatives that are Edenian ancestors of the magic, even if you come on top, you have much to learn

He prevented you from interfering with Johnny's fighting against the Lin Kuei brothers when they arrived at his mansion

He also noticed you cast an illusion when you were about to leave after Johnny fought the brothers, to not be involved in what was happening

RAIDEN

He's surprised you even had powers, let alone be born with them

He likes the combination of his lighting with your magic, impressed that you can mimic lighting, he will also feel a little intimidated about it

He totally kicks your ass in combat, hand to hand precise

He will lecture about using combat more than your powers, but is impressed about your abilities

He annoys the living the fuck out of you with his humbleness

He finds it amazing that you are able to hold more than you once did

He still wants to know if you're able to do more with your magic than what he's read in books about ancient magic in Edenian

He worries of your mental state with your abilities the more you learn about them, but he finds you interesting that you are abnormal

He's surprised that you can tolerate Johnny, hearing about his previous assistants, you are the only one who can tolerate the egotistic (but generous) man-child

KUNG LAO

Cocky son of a bitch...

He'll work too hard to try and impress his abilities to you and brag that you can't prevent them

Overall, he does like the sight of your abilities glowing and swirling in your hands

He finds them ticklish when it holds when they calmly wrap around him

He's literally the type of guy to ask you to "do it again!" just to make him feel like he's flying

You somehow managed to block his blade hat, but nearly got your head split into two

He's wondering about your limits and wanting to try and overdo them, in other words he wants to cheat

The more your power grows the less he understands

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

He and Sento can sense you, just like you can sense them.

He was curious if you could hear Sento without any contact with the blade. Both him and you were surprised that your ancestors knew each other

You both help each other with telekinesis and mind reading

Johnny and Kung Lao call you two the "Perfect Duo"

Johnny tries setting y'all up, but you declined due to "not seeing it" (neither can Kenshi)

It weirds out Takeda that there was someone else quite similar to Kenshi

Takeda also comments that she's out of his league...

They will literally talk shit telepathically, especially about Johnny. I headcanon the way they do it is like in Young Justice, especially when they argue. The entire squad just looks at y'all as you two throw your arms and yelling at each other in y'all minds like y'all crazy...✋🏾😭

JOHNNY CAGE

Brother is STUNNED

How dare you keep this secret from your boss, he's livid AND dramatic...

Even those Liu Kang prevented you from interfering, you didn't really listen to him. You knew Johnny for six years and was close with him

Helping him push Bi-Han with your magic was always entertaining for him during the fight

You did kinda slapped him for trying to use you for his movie as you said you didn't want to and your power was too unpredictable anday cause harm

He enjoyed watching you beating the shit and levitating Shang Tsung and slamming him on the ground

He does notice your magic gets darker the more you use it, he also noticed you get headaches and hear voices from it

He was losing his fucking mind when Shang Tsung kidnapped you after he set out poisonous gas in his gruesome basement of Tarkat clones, man was ranting and worrying about you to Liu Kang who kept telling him to calm down

He remembers your ex, Kira, (Yes, the Kira from the previous games), that she got out of prison for trying to kill you, or more like someone let her out and she joined the Red Dragon group

He's extremely worried about you all the time, like that's you bad bitch, you're bestie✨💅🏾

Y'all are literally the Mean Girls, along with Kenshi

✨BONUS ✨

GERAS

He's more cautious about your abilities than Liu Kang, even though Liu Kang is aware, Geras is more strict about it

He knows the extent of your abilities and various triggers that can happen. Throughout the times in other timelines, he always see you are going from good to evil.

There's even one timeline where he sees you erasing all the realms due to sadness of someone you love during a realm battle of all realms

He remembers you were Shinnok's spawn in a previous timeline, but it glad you were down a different path, still causes of what you might do

He will eventually see you as a threat if your power corrupts you, knowing he can't erase you due to chaos and order balance, he deems of sealing you, which Johnny was mainly against

He knows you don't intentionally mean harm, but does trust your mind set

Geras is a bonus since he's not intentionally an Earthrealmer, this list is mainly for those who are born in Earthrealm, for example since Liu Kang is a God and Keeper of Time, he still was and is an Earthrealmer

I was gonna add Thunder God Raiden, but if I'm in the mood or someone requests the MK11 version, I will do it

I will make an Outworlder one but I won't add the villains, they'll have their separate section

Again! Requests are open!

[uhohdad]

i’m an absolute sucker for the other pov (like the little snippets of könig’s thoughts/feelings) from the hg au. the way you write genuinely has me giggling and kicking my feet. ty dad for feeding us so well <3 <3<3

my sweet anon ask and ye shall receive

Konig x Reader Hunger Games AU

⚠️ THE TRIBUTES SPOILERS BELOW ⚠️

When Konig’s name was called he truly thought he was dreaming - not in like, a good way, but in, ‘this is truly so unbelievable it can’t possibly be real’ kind of way. Because what are the odds? It’s his worst nightmare that stars the girl he revolves around. It was the most bittersweet thing that has ever happened to him - as if the stars aligned during armageddon.

Shaking your hand was so conflicting. Your tiny hand, so soft in his calloused, overworked hands. It was absolutely electrifying to touch you for the first time, a jolt of warmth that started at his finger tips and bloomed throughout his body. It was immediately followed by a crashing wave of nausea thinking about those very same hands being forced to compete in a fight to the death.

When Reader made Konig ‘deal with her outer thigh,’ homie was SWEATING. I mean he somehow had absolutely no thoughts and a million at the same time. Dial-up motem up noises up there. He didn’t dare move against her in fear she would shift away. (He absolutely popped a chub and felt so guilty about it lmaoo)

Sooo disappointed when it didn’t happen again :/

I don’t think (?) I ended up including this in the final draft but Konig’s stylist’s name is Ithica and she adores Konig just as much as Ruby does, albeit in a more superficial way.

He was so flustered seeing Reader in the wheat dress and all dolled up for the first time, his heart stopped.

When Reader insisted Konig hold her hand on the chariot he got the exact same feeling he did when he shook her hand, when he was pressed to her thigh. A buzz under his skin and a flush on his cheeks. Sparks on contact that spread throughout his entire body. He was much less worried about the ceremony with Reader’s hand in his. It’s all he could focus on.

When Reader ripped her hand away he was sure he ruined everything. I mean, full spiral. He was sure it was his fault, that he misunderstood the gesture, that he forced himself on you. He felt perverted, filthy, as if he had just rubbed his dirty hands from a long day on the field all over a priceless work of art.

Konig got just as swarmed with hormones during the first aid training 😭

Konig has been actually benefiting from this world where his size is suddenly something to be adored for. He’s never been so self-assured in that sense - his interview, his score, every Citizen and every member of his team gushing over him. The fact that his size is such a huge, desirable advantage is such a stark contrast from what he’s used to. Aside from the whole ‘being sent to his death thing,’ the only thing making him nervous and negatively self aware is simply standing in Reader’s presence.

Bonding with Ruby has also been incredibly meaningful to him. He can’t help but see her as a mother figure, and she seems to accept and love just about everything about him.

Konig was so excited for Reader to see him in his lil interview suit. 😭

Konig spent so much time in his room, laying on his back, fingers threaded over his waist, staring up at the ceiling just thinking about every moment he shared with Reader that day.

+ fun fact, I almost included Simon Riley in this story. It was a toss up between Reader’s ‘Gale’ and Titan’s character. I kind of enjoyed playing with the original characters in this story though and I decided not to do the whole Gale thing. <3 don’t mind me

This is going to be incredibly controversial. But the reason y’all like this interpretation of Konig so much is because I swirled my interpretation of Konig with Peeta Mallark. Just sprinkled some Peeta in there. Love you Suzanne <3

Konig x Reader Hunger Games AU

[starythewriter]

JACK Harlow X you- an interview filled day.

TW: sexual themes but no smut. Fluff!

Jack walked with you sitting down next to you.

As you both prepared for the interview. With Alex cooper!

You both sat down, you swallowed feeling nervous as you already knew that everybody was hungry for the tea.

“So… let’s start off with something simple how are you both doing?”

“Great… feeling the baddest” you said giggling.

“I’m chillin”

Said Jack.

“Amazing” said Alex with a big smile, really getting comfortable.

“So let’s talk about your come up” said Alex you, smiled saying “well, originally, I kinda just started posting on social media expecting nothing and I had two main accounts and they went viral, but at some point they went stagnant and then I created another account which blew up and every since I’ve been growing!”

You said smiling “that is amazing” said Alex.

“Now how do the both of you know eachother?”

Said Alex with curiosity eyes.

“Well… we kinda met at once of my concerts and we just really connected… her energy is unmatched and also, I value her work and her dedication” said Jack smiling, you looked over at him, as he smiled and gave you a lustful gaze before quickly looking back at Alex.

“WOW seems like right out of a book… well tell me more about the two if you what inspired you two to collab and then create a a photoshoot. I got the vision of the fragrance brand and the sexy strawberry scent. But it seems to have caused a lot of uproar on social media along with questions about the both of you.” Says Alex interested in your answer.

She was hungry for the answer, you hesitated to answer as you felt like Jack wasn’t really ready to announce anything. So you let him take over.

“Well we both wanted to work on the song, Y/N came up with the idea, so we made the song and added some tunes, we also added some ocean sounds and the sound of the actual universe. As we wanted to create something very magical. As for the photo shoot… I’ll let Y/N explain.”

“Well… here’s the thing I wanted this Fragrance to be beyond sexy. & once person came to mind Jack, so I hit him up and asked, everything went smooth and we enjoyed it, it was a statement of how the strawberry, scent was potent and stronger and was perfect for intimate moments along with romantic moments. The photoshoot, was risqué, and it was revealing but that was part of it!” You said feeling proud. You created an amazing fragrance but also, you knew that the photoshoot caused a giant controversy.

“Did you know it would cause such a big splash?”

Asked cooper with immense curiosity, she kept her gaze on you.

“Not really. I mean I thought it would be something big, and impressive but I never expected it to go viral on Twitter and just drag out I mean…”

“Yeah I get that. The response was really good but heated and controversial…”

“Yeah, I agree Alex, it was very big. But here’s the thing, people started to just attack me and him I guess because they thought that we were together or that I stole him which is nobody’s business”

You said feeling, confident… you reflected a little about all of the heat. But you and Jack had a decision and nobody had a problem with keeping things private. So…

“I see that’s respectable. & your right all of that was assumptions that people made”

“Yeah… but I’m happy Y/N is happy and we made something iconic. That’s all that matters” said Jack smiling while looking at me. I smiled back.

*time skip*

We finished with the podcast… “that was fun but… now it’s time to get to this red carpet jack!” You said rushing into the red carpet, smiling as everybody took pictures of the both of you.

You turned around swirling letting your dress have expire to the cameras while Jack stood there smiling and doing something similar. You both walked up, as he held your hand helping you delicately walking up every single step. As you got ontop you both smiled.

“We made it…. A podcast and this red carpet at the met gala… for a cancer foundation. I’m so happy… we will be able to allocate 2.4 million dollars toward cancer patients. 1.6 which will go toward the actual patients and the rest toward research purposes…”

“I’m so proud of YOU. Y/n you did all of this you went on the show you made songs, you made collabs, and you raised so much money.

Now you can give back without worrying about loosing a dime. You give back and you just receive more… you’re a special person Y/N. A person that’s hard to come by, someone so special”

The end!

[abibliophobiaa]

talking in your sleep

- eddie munson x afab!reader; 80s summer camp slasher au.

There are rumors that Hawkins is cursed. That there’s a gateway to hell in the town’s epicenter—paved by the blood of innocents. That there’s a whole world roaming beneath, teeming with monsters who have gaping maws full of endless rows of teeth that walk on twos and fours, screeching bats, and swirling shadow beasts.

But they’re rumors all the same. Hushes in hallways, within the four walls of homes, by conspiracy theorists trying to strike up their next controversial story. Stories told around campfires to wide eyed children, fear struck grave and true behind their gazes, or by those wishing to warn others to stay away, to reconsider coming—to turn back while they still have time.

Those same rumors fueled by the terrible murder of the Creel family, a haunting story of a girl who disappeared and was never found again, the impossibility of the zombie boy who was gone from this world one day and alive the next, the devastating fire that burned down the Starcourt Mall and took the lives of many.

Tragedies. All of them. Twisted to fit a narrative. Because Hawkins is safe. Inconspicuous. Boring. Nothing strange happens there.

Nothing, that is, until the summer of 1986.

…Welcome to Camp Firefly.

🏕️🛶

warnings: obviously dark in tone, so please understand that before entering (although chapter one is light and fluffy); thriller vibes; character death; violence; gore; blood; depictions of murder, though limited in description — i would say on par with what we see in the actual show; possession; alcohol and recreational marijuana use; horror tropes galore; pov changes; smut; additional tags to be added; 18+ minors dni.

additionally—while this is technically an au, the upside down does exist here. the original core st gang has experienced the events of season 1-3, but in a different capacity that will become clear through the narrative. also a loose loose loose adaptation of s4 with this slasher flair.

🏕️🛶

playlist || ao3 || a sketch by my dear friend

🏕️🛶

Chapter List:

one: burnin’ for you

two: obsession (tba)

three: running up that hill (tba)

[partycatty]

Hear me out bi han with a figure skating reader?..

YAS i actually have two other requests for the same thing! u guys r so cute i love ur lil ideas :))

bi-han > foolish

how it goes when you're an elegant skater and he's a stoic ninja!

warnings: u almost die, controversial bi-han character writing?

notes: this reads like a barbie movie it's a little corny, also i imagine his frost/ice shoots out like elsa LMFAO like all beautiful n shit when he's not trying to spear someone w an icicle

masterlist <3

•when i say bi-han is absolutely horrible at verbalizing his romantic thoughts, i promise with my entire being that i mean it.

•so it comes to nobody's surprise when all bi-han can do is watch you as you glide across the ice like a gorgeous fairy, eyes closed and completely encapsulated in the movement. he was supposed to be scouring the land for raiden and kung lao to confirm their whereabouts, but he stopped when he heard your pretty humming and scraping of ice. all he could do was stand atop a roof and observe you quietly, suddenly feeling a little warm, which was completely out of character for the cryomancer.

•your skates were handmade and your movements weren't professional. you learned through VHS tapes and magazines growing up, and you wanted nothing more than to leave fengjian and make it big in the olympics.

•each time he returns to fengjian to spy on the farmers and report back to liu kang, he's sure to stray from the path when nobody is looking, and checks on the frozen pond to see if you're skating. something about it entrances him. perhaps it's because he uses his ice for dominance and strength, while you submit your entire life to the deadly pond in such a beautiful display of grace.

•it takes him several visits to actually approach you, and it was entirely unintentional. you had actually fallen into a thin patch of ice, your leg trapped in a jagged part and effectively sucking your leg into the freezing water. he leapt from the rooftop and revealed himself to you. while he may not be the best at encouraging words, he's great at barking commands. so, in his all-ice-knowing voice, he tells you how to save yourself step by step, since you seemed entirely clueless about this incredibly important survival skill.

•your nerves got the better of you as you cry out and squirm, and the ice cracked even more. bi-han let out a growl of frustration with the situation before stomping across the ice to you. you wanted to shout out and tell him to stand back or he'd make it worse, but the words get caught in your throat when, with each step, his footsteps spawned large swirling waves of frosty ice, effectively repairing the cracks around you.

•bi-han doesn't outstretch an arm, he just stands menacingly - and silently - over you as you whimper in pain. saving yourself, you use his thick arm as leverage and hoist yourself out of the water, and he barely flinches at your soggy weight.

•"you... you did that," you say incredulously and out of breath, pointing at the intricate patterns along the ice top. bi-han's eyes follow your point and he exhales before turning back to you. "with the ice... how?"

•"you were foolish," he replies coldly, though you sense a morbidly caring tone in his voice. "stay near the shore. you'll lose that leg if you're not careful. no more skating then."

•your hand is on his chest as you regain your balance, and your eyes fall to the emblem on his uniform.

•"how did you know i was skating?" you ask, with a smirk teasing your lips. bi-han tenses up at your question, looking away momentarily. he would literally rather die than admit he was staring at you, and you sense that, so you move back to the emblem.

•"you are in a clan," you mutter, reaching to trace it. "what are ninjas doing in fengjian?"

•instinctively, he snatches up your wrist and holds it in the air, warning you silently not to touch it. but even so, bi-han's lips part for a moment, his eagerness to speak to you overtaking his stoicism. he covers his mouth and furrows his brows. something about your gentleness, your kindness, causes him to desire to match it. your sweet eyes looking into his, you tilt your head and he nearly collapses.

•he decides not to answer your question, and you assume whatever it is is a private matter. perhaps the whispers in madam bo's restaurant might offer an explanation later.

•"well... thank you," you thank him gently, with your arm still in his grip. it's evident that... he doesn't scare you. in fact, you're fascinated by this man. everyone knows everyone, so who could this big yummy scoop of ice cream be??

•"don't thank me yet," he replies, eyes looking down at the ice and back to the shore. "with me. come."

•you do an awkward combination of skating and walking beside bi-han as he leads you back to the snowy shore. his hand rests on your back, full palm taking up a great amount of space on your back. you shudder at the thought.

•"may i thank you now?" you ask with gentle playfulness, smiling up at the ninja before bowing out of respect. "you saved my life, sir. the least you can do is tell me your name."

•"bi-han," he finally replies, his lips in a firm line. "don't make me save you again. be smart. be vigilant."

•his lecture halts when he hears his brothers call for his name in the echoey distance. he shares one last glance with you before walking off into the village alleys, and you're utterly dumbfounded. did that actually happen, or was that a weird hypothermic hallucination? do those even happen?

•before the lin kuei end their exploration of your village, bi-han decides to leave one last lesson for you at your doorstep. how he even knew where you lived baffled you. but, the uneasiness went away when you opened the hastily put together box, and see a brand new pair of ice skates, the blades frosted with the same beautiful pattern you saw on the ice that day.

•never again did you get near the thin points of the icy pond. and, every winter after that, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you in the distance as you improve your flips and pivots using your gorgeous skates. and you're pretty sure the lin kuei's business in the village ended quite some time ago...

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: What We Did In The Dark {3}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, Angst, Small Time Jumps, Preggo Talk, Pregnancy Trope, Talk of Pregnancy Termination

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. Now back to your own life, you find you have a special souvenir from your time in Mauritius and you have a tough decision to make.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

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What We Did In The Dark {1}**** | What We Did In The Dark {2}* |

Chapter Three: Better An Ooops….

“Take it easy!”

You groaned as you dropped face first onto your couch and let yourself spread out across the cool white leather. After 3 days in the hospital, tens of tests, and plenty of round-the-clock vitamin treatments to get your body up to standard for your condition you were finally released with prescriptions and doctor's orders to take it easy for a few days. You’d planned to come home and jump on your laptop to finish some things up, but Villie decided to bring you in and make sure you were settled. You knew she’d done it for a reason, and it was to make sure you didn’t do what you wanted to.

“So what do you feel like for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Tough shit. You’re going to eat. Your doctors said you need to take it easy, eat 3 balanced meals a day, and keep your stress levels down. So they took care of breakfast and lunch, now we order dinner.”

Villie dropped a heavy hand across your ass making you shout into the cushions of the couch. You shifted onto your side and rolled into a ball.

“What about the Halal spot that is on Blauvelt?”

You groaned and at the thought of all that meat covered with white creamy sauce, your stomach churned like the agitator inside of a washing machine. It didn’t feel right at all. Because of it, a ball of nausea formed in your chest, but your stomach grumbled.

“See, you’re hungry,” Villie assumed.

However, that was not the case. The thought of Halal made your stomach swirl like the letter “S”.

“No Halal.”

“Burgers, Mexican, Caribbean?”

None of those sounded any better. Suddenly, Villie gasped.

“Oooh, what about that Cuban spot?”

You allowed that to simmer for a few moments and when your stomach didn’t react you slowly sat up. In your mind’s eye, you saw a towering plate of empanadas beside another plate filled with Cuban-style seafood paella and a bowl of black bean soup and tostones. You looked to Villie and found her smiling widely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You pulled out your phone and went to your food ordering app then found the restaurant she meant. You spent the following 5 or so minutes adding everything your stomach told you that you needed and had to have or else you’d die. By the time you’d checked out, your total and quantity were insane for just two people but as far as you were concerned everything was a necessity.

While Villie waited for the order, you took a quick shower. Or it was meant to be quick. Whenever you swiped your decadently soaped-up exfoliating gloves across your abdomen you paused up and your mind wandered. There was an actual baby inside of you right now—two to be accurate. You were carrying the babies of a man you’d only slept with once, well multiple times over the span of 5ish hours. You didn’t know him and you sure as hell hadn’t planned for this to be the outcome of your wanton night of pleasure.

There were so many things on your mind, so many worries to add to the ones you already had. According to Dr. Olumici, you had already reached the cut-off point to ethically terminate with her and most other providers. However, you could find other physicians who would perform an early 2nd-trimester termination. Through your research in the hospital, you educated yourself on why it was too unethical and brought so much controversy. Once you understood you couldn’t fathom doing it.

With that answer, you also couldn’t fathom yourself carrying these babies or giving them a life. You weren’t exactly stable in your life or career. You’d only just begun the path and had so many other things planned to accomplish before the whole adding to the population of the world thing. That meant you had a predicament on your hands that now only had one resolution—adoption. Even that didn’t sit right with you. Could you go on living your life knowing you had a life somewhere else in the world living, a being that came from you, a being you wouldn’t know in any way?

So you spent the entire shower going back and forth over your options but that only sent you into an endless circle with resolutions that weren’t real ones because they posed more problems and raised more questions. By the time you came out of the shower and returned to the living room, Villie was lost in her phone with the food spread out across your coffee table.

“That was longer than usual.”

“Yeah, I smelled like a hospital, I needed to smell like me.”

Villie nodded then grabbed the bottle that was in the center of the table, “Did you know you can get alcohol delivered off of Dash?”

You snorted. Leave it to her to try. You took a seat on the floor beside her ready to dig in but her phone resting on the table caught your eye. It was the picture of the man who’d showed up at the hospital, the one you’d rear-ended.

“You found him on socials already?”

Villie glanced at her phone then scoffed. “It wasn’t hard. Take a guess who he’s connected to.”

You thought about it for a second but the smells wafting from the containers took your attention. You went through pulling off the tops of the food containers and moaning as each new smell filled the room.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”

Without another word, you dug into the food filling your plate with a lot of everything. Once you were satisfied with the bites you had taken you glanced back at Villie who was wide-eyed.

“What?”

“Glad to see your appetite has come back.”

You nodded and continued stuffing your face. Over the last few days, though you hadn’t vomited, you felt small bouts of nausea that came and went and the look of most of the hospital food left you not wanting to eat much. You’d worried it was going to be a permanent thing, but those worries were put to rest now.

“So, guess who he’s connected to,” Villie broached again.

“I don’t know,” you said mouth full of food.

Villie grabbed her phone and slid across her screen then held it up to you. When you looked, Lewis Hamilton’s face filled her screen. You gasped forgetting your mouthful of food then immediately began choking from the few particles that went down the wrong pipe.

“Oh my god!”

Villie leaped to her knees, patted your back with one hand, and poured some of the dark liquid from the bottle into a glass before she handed it to you. As you brought it to your nose your stomach turned from the strong scent of alcohol. You put the glass back on the table and shook your head. Villie kissed her teeth and then hurried to the kitchen before she came back with a bottle of water. You took several gulps in between coughs trying your best to dislodge the food that was stuck in your windpipe.

After a few attempts, you took a deep breath and hung your head back.

“Are you all right?”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that had slipped out.

“Jesus. I know the man is fine, fine but get a grip,” Villie teased.

You scoffed then pressed your palms to your face.

“Wait. Eh-em, you’re telling me the man I ran into is connected to him?”

“Yep. His name is Miles Chamley-Watson. He is the BFF to Lewis Hamilton, like for real BFF shit. They go everywhere together.”

Your eyes were bugged as you pieced it together. How small was this fucking world? How was this even real? The more you thought about it you began to wonder if he was in Mauritius with him. If so, did he know who you were?

“Oh my god.”

“Right! Like we kind of hit it off. I’m not gonna say there was flirting but there was flirting.”

“So you’re interested in him?”

Villie smiled as she drank down the glass of rum she’d poured for you. “I might be. What do you think? Do you think I shouldn’t be?”

How were you supposed to answer that? If she pursued things and they ended up becoming a thing didn’t that mean eventually one way or another you and Lewis would interact with one another? If you did wouldn’t he find out about the babies? If he found out--. The thought paused as a bigger item zipped itself up the agenda. Would he even remember you? He was after all Lewis Hamilton. You were sure there was no shortage of women he spent his time with. Why would he remember you from one night and 5 hours?

“Y/N?”

“Uh—um, well--.”

You saw the hope in her eyes and knew you couldn’t minipulate this because of your situation. Sighing you took her hand. “Valenza, I saw something between y’all. I say go with it and enjoy yourself. Who knows this could be it.”

Villie screeched then began laughing like an erratic high schooler who’d just learned their crush liked them back. Smiling you went back to eating. As Villie talked about Miles for a few more minutes your mind was lost in its own world. This shit was getting even more complicated.

~~~~~~~

4 Weeks Later

Your eyes never left the front door of 4057 Lake Drive Blvd. You’d been sitting in your car for the last 3 hours obsessively staring at the door with one hand on your steering wheel while the other rested on the door handle. You’d had every intention of getting out of your car and going inside 2 hours ago. However, that didn’t work out. Every time you tried to force your feet to move they didn’t. Instead, you sat outside the women’s health center as the time clicked closer and closer to your appointment until that same time clicked further and further away from your appointment time.

Now you were a whole 2 hours past your appointment time with no progress on getting out of the car. As you sat here you went over every single option over and over and over. You interjected every variable, every single con to every single choice. However, with every con, you found yourself seeing just as many pros. Now it was impossible to tell what the right decision was.

Never in your life had you thought you’d consider termination let alone a 2nd trimester one, but you were finding out that in most decisions no one knows what they would do until they are in it. You didn’t think you’d have unprotected sex with a stranger in your life but when the moment came you were one hundred percent DTF (down to fuck).

You closed your eyes for probably the hundredth time and took several deep, slow breaths. On the fifth one, you held it and allowed your heartbeat to steadily slow until it beat low and evenly. It was a trick you’d done most of your life to calm yourself and think clearly. When everything fell away, including the sounds of traffic, the sounds of the city you loved, and even the drum of your engine, you were left with your heartbeat and the rustling of the palm leaves. It was then that you felt the butterfly fluttering sensations again.

When you’d first felt them a week ago you hadn’t known what they were, and it took a few days to recognize what they were. Every Google search confirmed it—fetal movements. That was when it all became real and right now sitting in front of the health center where a doctor was waiting to perform your termination that you were now 2 hours late for because you were panicking and waiting for a sign to show you the right path to take, did it really become real.

Your hands left their current positions, the steering wheel and the door handle, and drifted to your belly which was now ever so slightly poked out. As if the minuscule beings inside of you knew your hands were there the fluttering intensified, crippling you with emotion. You dropped your head onto the steering wheel and allowed yourself to cry for the first time.

What could have been mistaken for sad tears weren’t. They were tears of resolution, tears of understanding, tears of acceptance—of fear. This was your sign, your answer, your path, and you were scared shitless. So your tears flowed down your cheeks and dripped all over you soaking your top. Even then you didn’t stop, you let it all out even turning up the music to drown out the sounds of your sobs.

From this moment forward, your life would never be the same and from this moment forward, you would face whatever came your way on this path with one thought in mind—what was best for your babies. When your tears finally subsided you wrapped your arms around your midsection, hugging yourself and the lives within you, and took a deep breath.

“Okay. I didn’t expect you and I surely didn’t plan you, but I won’t get rid of you. I hope you don’t regret choosing me because you’re stuck with me, and I promise I will do everything to protect you from today onward. Be gentle and patient with me and we’ll learn together.”

As if your words were heard, the flutters returned making you smile. pressing your head back on the headrest you sighed and tried to formulate a plan. That was when your phone rang sending audio caller ID off.

Villie calling. Villie calling. Villie calling.

You scoffed. Even the universe knew the plan was to tell Villie because she was good at coming up with a plan that ensured you were the primary benefiter. Truthfully, you should have told her weeks ago but since your release from the hospital she’d been spending a lot of time with Miles. Though he lived in the UK, they were always on Facetime dates, they’d now met up in London 3 times and you were sure she knew what Miles Jr looked like.

You hadn’t wanted to make things weird between them or add any stress given the truths of your situation. You really had wanted to keep things separate. Now with you deciding to keep the babies and raise them, there was no way you could keep everything from her anymore. She was your best friend after all. Tapping the answer button, you buckled yourself in.

“Hey V.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Umm--,” you stretched as you pulled out of the parking lot of the medical center and onto Berman Street.

“Getting on the highway, what’s up?”

“I feel like shopping. Are you down?”

“Yeah, tell me where to meet you.”

The drive through South Beach was unlike any drive you’d done before. Over the last few weeks, you’d been tense and stressed out to the max. It was evident in the way you gripped the steering wheel and sat in your seat. Now you felt differently. You were more relaxed, and more centered but also more cautious. You found yourself stopping and allowing more women and children cross even if they didn’t have the right of way, found yourself driving slightly below the speed limit and following every single traffic law that was in the driver’s manual that you’d neglected mere weeks before.

By the time you parked and fed your meter, you were 10 minutes late and intensely craving a massive green smoothie. After getting not one but two, you found Villie already well into her shopping in one of the lingerie stores.

“What took you so long?”

“Traffic and I needed a smoothie. So for you, shopping starts with lingerie.”

“Of course.”

You chuckled then began going through the racks. There were tons of cute stuff, but you knew soon you wouldn’t fit any of it and you had no one to wear any of this for. With that thought you looked at Villie.

“Valenza Tamina Chord, are you stocking up for a particular event?”

She smiled widely then walked off.

“No, no. Don’t try to slip away. What’s going on?”

“Miles is coming to town in a few weeks for a week and--.”

“You plan on getting your back broke, throat bruised, and internal organs rearranged. Okay!”

Villie giggled as she took down a navy blue strappy number that would look great on her and examined it.

“Okay I don’t know about throat bruised but the rest of it yep.”

You snorted and shook your head. “First of all, get that, it’ll look phenomenal on you. Second, let’s see if you have a voice when he comes.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, he is so cool, such a good guy.”

“He seems like it. I’m glad you’re having fun you deserve it.”

Villie’s eyes landed on you and for a few moments she studied you. “I’m not the only one who deserves it, you do too.”

You nodded and walked away to another rack and idly went through the hangers.

“I mean it. You’ve been single for long enough don’t you think?”

“I have a lot going on Villie. I don’t need another thing to worry about.”

“I understand what you mean but sometimes if it’s the right thing it doesn’t become a worry but something to bring you happiness, and peace.”

You sighed the words at the tip of your tongue but with no way to come out. This wasn’t something you could blurt out and be done with. You knew Villie, she would want to dissect everything on top of wanting a play-by-play of your dick down. This conversation couldn’t be had in the middle of a lingerie store.

“When do we meet the creative director of the station?”

“Boo! Always changing the subject. Fine, whatever. Next week is the meeting. Their name is Sadie Walters and she sent over some ideas for her vision along with some papers to understand your vision. So you got some homework.”

“Okay. I’m excited to get this off the ground and get back to traveling.”

“Workaholic. One day you will regret working so much and pushing your personal life to the side.”

You turned your back and quietly scoffed. If she only knew how little time you would have for a personal life in the next few years she’d take that back. For the next several hours you dipped in and out of almost every store adding bags and bags of clothes, shoes, makeup, and body products until you both were exhausted. After you had dinner at a nearby steakhouse where again you ate nearly everything in sight. When you both split at the end of the night you attempted to get the words out but still you couldn’t. You weren’t quite ready, and you worried you would be really showing before you were ever ready.

~~~~~~

-2 Weeks Later-

Pop!

The champagne bottle top flew across the room colliding into the wall, making everyone cheer and clap. After so many weeks of work with finishing up your catalog, the vacation wear line, and getting the behind-the-scenes stuff of your travel show down everything was signed, sealed, and done. Tomorrow was the release of your catalog and vacation wear line, and you were absolutely freaking out.

“Oh my god. Thank you everyone!”

You went around your office and hugged each and every one of the people who helped you get here. You wrapped your arms around Zavier and squeezed.

“Thank you Z, you made this catalog incredible. I cannot thank you enough!”

“Congratulations. You’re more than welcome.”

Next, you moved on to Sabrina and Chloe, the interns who’d been hired to maintain some of the back-end things. “Thank you beautiful souls.”

“You’re welcome!”

When you moved to Villie she rocked you side to side. That was when the waterworks started.

“Oh Villie, thank you, thank you!”

“Shut up. I don’t need thank yous. I am so happy for you. It’ll be no time now before you are bigger than Anthony Zimmerman.”

“Girl, we are not alike. He travels to eat everything; I travel to party.”

Everyone laughed at that. When Villie handed you a glass of champagne you froze.

“We have to drink to you and all that you’ve accomplished and to this amazing team of ours,” Villie said holding her glass up.

Everyone followed her and tapped their glasses together. You brought the glass to your lips, but you didn’t take a sip as they all did.

“Thank you guys so much for all your hard work and dedication to these projects. It means the world to me.”

You hoped they understood how much they meant to you though you couldn’t fully express it because if you did, you knew you would cry uncontrollably which would be weird. You were having a hard time keeping your emotions under control over the last two weeks as your pregnancy progressed. You saw a dandelion blow away from a hard gust of wind earlier and that made you cry for the poor dandelion that would never be seen again. With that, you knew your emotional state was highly unbalanced.

When the bottle of champagne disappeared, everyone started to file out to get on with their own days leaving you and Villie. You scrolled through the virtual catalog in complete awe. You couldn’t believe that after so many months it was over and would be out for the world to see. The pride you felt was indescribable. You’d accomplished this without using anyone's clout, or influence to elevate it. You didn’t have any major help, most of it was compiled by you using your skills and talents. It wasn’t until near the end had you brought on more expertise. This was your baby.

“I can’t believe this is done, V.”

She doesn’t reply. When you felt her approach, she pulled up a chair beside you then sighed. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me what’s been going on with you since you were released from the hospital.”

You paused and fought the rapid beating of your heart because you knew she would hear it in the quiet office. “Uh--.”

“I’ll give you a few moments to come up with what you are going to say to come clean with me but the words out of your mouth better be the truth. I’ve let you go for all this time but right now I’m getting offended and hurt that you don’t feel like you can talk to me.”

You spun to her and grabbed her hands. “No, no. Villie, that’s not it I swear!”

“No? Then what else could it be, Y/N?”

You sighed then found your words. Gripping her hands tighter you looked at her. “Okay look. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how and honestly I didn’t know until a few weeks ago and since then I have been a mess trying to wrap my head around it and future my shit out. It’s a lot happening.”

“Are you sick? Please don’t tell me you have cancer.”

“What? No! I don’t. I’m not sick.”

Villie let out a relieved huff of breath then took a steadying one. “Then what? What is going on?”

“I’m—I’m—pregnant.”

Villie just stared at you with a blank expression. She didn’t move, she didn’t even look as if she were breathing. Leaning forward you studied her closer trying to gauge just what she was thinking. Biting your bottom lip you prepared yourself to repeat the words but just as you opened your mouth to, Villie sprang to her feet.

“What! P—pr—pregnant?”

She walked to the far side of the office. “I know you fucking lying.”

“Uh--.”

“No. It’s a lie. There is no way. How did you get pregnant? When?”

You understood her reaction. You hadn’t told her about your night with Lewis because you didn’t want to be one of those girls who bragged about spending the night with a celebrity and you honestly were kind of embarrassed by everything that happened that night. You’d turned into a completely different person and when the sun rose, and you’d found your limbs entangled with his and your very naked bodies still connected under the massive palm tree that was tucked out of sight you’d felt stupid and easy so you ran as fast as you could without looking back. As far as she knew you’d been in a sex drought for 2 years.

“Y/N!”

“Calm down. I should be the one freaking out. I’m the pregnant one.”

Villie’s eyes widened.

“I’m not lying. I am pregnant. I found out at the hospital after the accident and that’s what’s been going on for the last few weeks. I was trying to wrap my head around it all and figure out what I wanted to do about it. Because of everything that I have going on I didn’t think I could continue this, so it’s been a stressful few weeks,” you rushed out.

Ville was still standing across the room and now looking at you like you had two heads. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“I’m not fucking with you. I promise.”

Instantly Villie crossed the room to you taking you into her arms and hugging the life out of you. “Oh, honey.”

With your best friend comforting you, your tears began flowing. When she heard your sniffles she pulled back and pouted.  “You’re really pregnant?”

Nodding, you sniffled some more. Villie’s tear-filled eyes overflowed and the two of you hugged again and ugly cried together. Relief filled you as you relished the comfort of the one person who's had your back for over a decade. You weren’t alone with this anymore. You knew without a doubt that Villie would have your back the entire way.

When the two of you sat back down, you both wiped your tears and snot and laughed at each other for being so emotional about it.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Oh my god,��� Villie repeated.

“I know, I know. It’s huge.”

“Huge? This is—colossal. You’re pregnant.”

You nodded, “I am.”

“You’re pregnant with a baby, like a real baby.”

“Ha, try two babies. Two real babies.”

Villie shot to her feet again.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Girl I nearly passed out when I found out.”

Villie screeched then and practically tackled you with another hug. “Twins! Aah, Y/N, how precious is that?!”

You snorted. Of course she would be the one to die over the cuteness of it all. Villie dropped back into the seat, then reached for your belly. When she realized it was not flat her eyes became the size of the moon.

“Holy fucking shit, Y/N. This feels so real.”

“Oh it’s real. It’s so real I have had to sideline 3 of my favorite pairs of jeans already and I’m not even halfway there yet.”

“So you’re keeping them, right? You better be keeping them.”

“I’m keeping them. I couldn’t do the procedure. It didn’t feel right in my heart.”

Villie nodded. “I get that. It’s different to hold my hand through mine than be the one in the stirrups getting your own. It’s a decision every woman has to make for herself.”

A few moments of silence stretched as both of you thought back to when Villie ended up pregnant barely one year into law school. Her then asshole boyfriend freaked and went as far as to transfer schools just to get away from the whole thing. After hours of tears, weeks of lamenting, and one in-depth heart to heart she decided it was best to terminate. So, you held her hand through the whole thing and per her request, the two of you never spoke of it again.

Squeezing her hand for comfort, you continued, “It was simply too late for me to have a clear conscious about it. Then I got a sign showing me what to do and—yeah, here we are.”

Villie squeezed your hand again. “Well, I am happy for you honey. You are going to be an amazing mom.”

You groaned. “Mom. V, this is insane. The show, the catalog, the line, all the traveling I’m going to be doing, the chaos of filming. I can’t do this, right?”

“Of course you can do this. You’re not going to be alone doing it either. I will be here. I will be with you for every single thing, ultrasounds, Lamaze, nursery planning, hospital bag packing, birth, and every day after. You’re not alone and you can do this,” she assured in her attorney voice.

Slowly you nodded as her words sank in filling you with confidence. Suddenly Villie gasped.

“Hold up. When did this happen? Who!?”

You let her hand go, stood, and grabbed your stuff.

“Let’s go to my place.”

Villie looked cautiously at you. “Oh god, is it Zavier?”

“What! Hell no.”

“What do you mean hell no? Zavier is fine as hell. You have seen his abs right and his tight ass?”

“Oh my god V, stop sexualizing Z.”

“I’m not. I’m just asking if you have seen his abs and his ass.”

“Yes, I have seen them and yes they are great.”

“Not to mention he is crushing so hard on you, has been for like a year now.”

“Shut up, he hasn’t.”

Villie rolled her eyes as she walked out the door first. “Oblivious fool. Can’t stand you bitches who don’t notice when you have men wrapped around your finger. until it's too late”

You snorted, “Who you calling a fool?”

The bickering continued as you made your way to your cars. When you separated to drive there separately, you made a quick stop at the Cuban spot near your house and once again picked up enough food for an army. When you got home Villie was already waiting for you. She helped you line out the food on the coffee table and get drinks ready, then you dug in. Halfway through eating Villie turned to you to press further.

“I know you’ve been stalling. Spill it already. Is he some struggling cartel clown who thinks he's next in line but is still the errand boy?”

“God no.”

“One of these struggling Miami rappers who swear they got bars but really don't understand the meaning of the word?”

You chuckled. “No.”

“Oh, a struggling underwear model who--.”

“Why do they all have to be struggling?”

“Because you’re stalling which means you’re either embarrassed of him or you regret letting him hit and most likely it’s because you’re ashamed of who he is.”

“I’m not—embarrassed or ashamed of him per se.”

“Okay if not who, then tell me when. When did this happen?”

“Mauritius.”

Her eyes widened again.

“Holy shit, did you Stella Got Her Groove Back on some hot barely legal island bway and brought back your very own Mauritian souvenirs.”

You busted out laughing sending food out of your mouth and onto the floor beside you.

“Wait, wait, wait. Barely legal isn’t my thing and since when have I been out of commission long enough to Stella Got Her Groove Back on anyone?!”

“It’s been 2 years, Y/N. You’re honeytrap was growing cobwebs.”

You laughed loudly again loving the feeling. It had been too long since you’d laughed like this.

“First of all. Fuck you!”

Villie laughed along with you.

“No, it’s who fucked you?”

You hugged her and rocked from side to side.

“Oh I love you Villie.”

“Love you too honey. That doesn’t mean I am letting this go. Tell me already.”

“Fine. Lewis Hamilton.”

Villie gave you a “yeah right” look then busted out laughing. She laughed so long that it gave you more time to keep eating. Slowly she realized you weren’t laughing with her and slowly she stopped.

“I didn’t mean lie to my face.”

“Who’s lying?”

Villie stared at you for a few moments then you watched every cell in her body light up until her face was bright and her eyes wide. That’s when it happened. She screamed. You nodded your head because it was either this reaction you’d expected or the complete disbelief. You’d gotten them both.

“No fucking way!”

“Oh yes fucking way.”

“You had sex with Lewis Hamilton in Mauritius? Oh ho ho, details. I need every single piece of information starting with who said the first word to whom, moving on to are his hands as big as they seem, then what he smells like, then can he kiss, then not skipping any minuscule detail like boxers or briefs, circumcised or not and finally how big and can he lay pipe.”

She screeched again, grabbed her bottle of beer, turned to you then cleared her throat. “Okay, begin.”

She was an absolute trip. You spent the few hours going over every detail of that night that you dared to with Villie. You even let her know how free you’d been with yourself and all the things you’d let him do to you, all the ways you’d let him have you and claim your body. With every piece of info, Villie looked like she was near an aneurysm. When you told her how you’d let him into your back door she lost her shit. She screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors would call the police thinking foul play was afoot.

By the time you finished, Villie was laid out on her back with a dazed look on her face staring at the ceiling as if she had been the one who’d gone through probably the best night of fucking ever recorded by man or woman. You gave her a few minutes to recover and let it all sink in and used the time to finish off the food.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

Villie sat up panting, her hair a mess.

“Are you good?”

“Am I? Are you? All of that went down?”

“All of that went down. I got back to my hotel room and didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.”

“You a freak, freak, freak!”

Both of you laughed some more.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I know. Mauritian rum is no fucking joke.”

“No. I can’t believe you left him there naked in the sand. Why!?”

“What? Why? You’re joking. I couldn’t stay.”

“Why?”

“Because it was over, it was one night and—I—I,” you sighed. “I was embarrassed. I felt like a fool.”

“You were embarrassed to have slept with Lewis Hamilton?”

“Partly. You’ve heard the rumors about him, heard the stories of him having a harem and contractual relationships that center around sex and extravagance, and here I went and fell for him.”

“Wait, fell for him, fell for him?”

You sighed and thought back to your conversation and the vibe between you.

“I don’t know. I’d had a lot to drink that night and was on a high after that folk dance with the island’s natives and there was something when our eyes met through the flames of the fire. There was something that made me fall enough to let all that go down.”

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know him. I don’t know I felt like I became this whole other person that I have never been before but it didn’t feel like a mask or me pretending and it makes me wonder why did it come out with him and not anyone else?”

Villie nodded. “So instead of finding out why by staying till he woke up, you ran away and brought back 2 souvenirs with his DNA that you now have to find a way to tell him about.”

“Tell him? Why would I tell him?”

Villie looked at you with incredulity. “You’re joking.” She stared at you longer then scoffed when she realized you weren’t. “No, Y/N, you have to tell him. Don’t you think he deserves to know he will have 2 children running around with his DNA?”

“---No.”

“Y/N--.”

“Okay wait. I can see how you would say yes and well—maybe—yes. Fuck. How do I tell him this Villie? Do I just DM him on Insta and be like hey remember me? He probably won’t if the stories are true he’s had nights like this plenty of times. What do I say?”

“Who cares about the stories, the rumors, and any of that other noise. Right now you are pregnant and you’ve decided to keep the babies—his babies. You have to tell him and let him figure out if he remembers you, and decide what he plans on doing. Whatever he decides won’t affect you. If he decides to man up great then you figure it out. If he decides to deny, deny, deny then fine, move on.”

You heard her words. They made plenty of sense, but you were still apprehensive. You didn’t want to be perceived as that girl. The one who showed up with a pregnancy from one night or a situationship where terms were clear.

“This is messy, Villie.”

“It is but what isn't messy these days? Oh my god, Miles.”

You looked at her as she finally thought about her connection to all of this.

“He’s his bestie right, and now your boo thang.”

Villie smiled at those words then scoffed. “The world is so fucking small.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied.

The two of you sat quietly for a few moments both in your own heads about your situation.

“Well, you have an in to talk to him when you’re ready to tell him about the pregnancy.”

“What in? Miles?”

“Yeah. We’ll tell him and ask if he can get you a face-to-face.”

“Face to face? Villie.”

“Is this the kind of news you really want to send over socials, text messages, or word of mouth?”

You hated when she was right.

“Also from a legal standpoint, if you kept this from him now and he somehow found out years down the line, he could file a lawsuit against you and seek damages.”

“From little ol' me?”

“If he was feeling really butt hurt, that’s the minimum of what he could do legally,” Villie confirmed.

You sighed then dropped back onto the floor. Your hands instantly went to your stomach and you felt your slight bump. This shit was messy and had the potential to get even messier. Villie was right though, you did have to tell him, it was the right thing to do.

Looking at it from a different angle, it was better to say "Hi remember me, oops I’m pregnant" than not and wonder what if.

You closed your eyes and groaned. Your life had turned upside down in the span of a few months and once again it was all because of the things you’d done in the dark.

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

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