#do NOT perceive him past the personality he is putting up in public

[viijaya]

[anexperimentallife]

Project 2025 would ban anything the far right considers pornography. The far right considers anything queer-positive to be pornography, and they WILL encode that into law if given just a TINY bit more power.

Have queer fanfic (or trad published literature) or pics of your transition, or of two men kissing, saved to your hard drive? If the GOP get their way, you'd be guilty of possession of pornography. Did you share any of it? You'd be guilty of distribution of pornography. Have a sweet coming of age story with a queer protagonist? That'd be child pornography.

Even now, states are trying to make it a crime to be openly queer in public (by, among other things, classifying dressing as the "wrong gender" anyplace kids might see as a sex crime against children). Oh, and Florida tried (and thankfully failed) to impose the death penalty for the above.

This is just one example of the horrors awaiting us if the project comes to fruition.

And the far right is already screaming that any adult who mentions around kids that queer people exist is "grooming" children. Wear your Pride shirt past a playground? You're now a child groomer. Think they won't put that into law if allowed? You're naive.

The GOP currently controls the Supreme Court (which is how they overturned Roe v. Wade) and has a majority in one branch of congress. Imagine what will happen nationwide with the GOP controlling every branch of government, including supermajoroties in both houses of Congress.

Oh, and top GOP officials have also announced their desire to NUKE Gaza, so don't come at me with, "but I can't vote blue because Biden..." Or tell me how you think Gaza would somehow be better off with Trump and the GOP.

In France, the left and center joined together--even though they disagree vehemently on many issues (get two leftists together and they'll have three positions on any issue)--to stop the far right from totally taking over, because the one thing they ALL agree on is that fascists dictatorships are BAD.

Much the same with the UK finally kicking out their own neo-fascist party, the Torries, to install 400 Labour MPs. Not everyone loves Labour's policies, but virtually everyone with a brain cell recognizes that the Torries are fascists, and that FASCISM BAD.

"Every election, they tell us this is the most important election if our lives!" Yeah, because each election over the past several decades has been more important than the one before, until we are now at a tipping point between remaining a fucked up oligarchy with SOME resemblance to freedom, and an outright neo-fascist military dictatorship.

Trump has literally stated publicly his intent to criminalize dissent, use US armed forces against protesters (Kent State, but multiply it by thousands), purge all agencies and stuff them with those personally loyal to him, and use the DOJ to go after anyone he perceives as a threat to his political power, among other things.

And remember the things he did in office, like pulling the teeth of federal workplace protections for queer folks (which Biden reatored).

I don't care if you don't like Biden or Harris. Neither do I. But the alternative is Trump, and anyone telling you not to vote in 2024, or to vote third party, is rooting for Trump, and for Project 2025. Anyone telling you not to vote does not give one single solitary flying fuck about vulnerable populations in the US or anywhere else in the world.

"You're just being an alarmist!" Right. Like I was being alarmist when I predicted the failed Jan 6 coup attempt. Like I was being alarmist when I said the GOP would try to use control over SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade.

Fucking vote.

[daycourtofficial]

Laborious anxieties

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss

The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.

You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.

And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.

He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.

Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.

The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.

“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.

You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.

Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.

One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”

You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.

Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.

So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.

Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.

His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.

Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.

“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.

Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.

“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”

Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”

He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”

“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.

After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”

He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”

He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.

-

Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.

You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.

Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.

It’s time.

-

Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.

You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.

They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.

“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.

“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.

“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”

Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.

“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.

Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.

He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.

Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”

Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.

“Please, Rhys.”

Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.

But he would ask Rhysand.

“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”

“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”

“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”

Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”

Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”

Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.

“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.

Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.

Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.

“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.

“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”

Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.

“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”

He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.

“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”

Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”

Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”

“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”

Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.

“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”

“And Cassian only makes it worse.”

“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”

Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.

“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”

“Jasper Camden.”

“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.

“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”

The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.

Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.

“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”

He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.

“Hello, my love.”

Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”

You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.

“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”

You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.

“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”

He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”

Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.

Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.

Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.

He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.

The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.

Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.

Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.

He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.

“It’s a boy.”

[theinfinitedivides]

wi papa look a thing there for me. awa.

prefacing this with a PSA that i'm going to try and keep short but basically regardless of anything i say here let me make it known that i do believe he should apologize. whether or not he's still actively saying that word in 2024 it is something he's used in the past even if he isn't performing said play anymore/saying things like that so flippantly. granted if he does apologize there's always going to be a section of fandom that's like 'he only apologized bc he got caught' yes?????????? that's what always happens????????? lbr you're not going to get on IG and announce you killed your ex two decades ago and you'll be turning yourself in when there's an entire true crime community in the depths of the internet who will dig up the cold case + the suspiciously convenient alibi anyway without you lifting a finger. politicians who get called out for blackface in college do not go around telling people they did blackface in college. celebrities who were homophobic on this hellsite in high school back in the early 10s before they realized they were gay are not going to let you know what their handle was. this is how the world works.

that being said i must confess i caught wind of the stirrings of this a bit early bc during the clusterfuck that was the Jam vs Zamasian RPF poll (i did not go in the notes. rancid ass shit) someone had taken a screenshot of a reblog made as a 'gotcha' to Zamasian voters by implying that they were anti-Black for voting for a ship featuring an actor that said the n-word in a play he hasn't performed for several decades since, with a short taped example that the general public was not going to know how to find unless they were on a mission. i poked around, saw a couple hints here and there that implied that the clip actually existed, marked that down for future ref and went about my business. disappointing? sure. run of the mill especially among people his age in the industry from that time period who are perceived to benefit from white privilege? absolutely. the former bird identified app dragging all of this back into the light (including the interview with Chris Rock. which i have not seen though there's no way it was within the last few years for AMC to still hire Eric if they had seen it. correct me if i'm wrong pls) is unexpected but tracks for the fandom on there.

generally i don't believe in cancelling someone for things they said or did more than ten years ago if they are no longer the same person they were back then. i don't believe Jacob or Assad or any one of the staff of color who may have been working behind the scenes would have agreed to continue interacting with Eric if he had the same attitude as he did when he first wrote and performed the play. i don't believe his Black comedian niece would continue to talk about him and share photos with him if he was calling her or the Black side of her family the n-word. i am willing to give the 'Eric Bogosian n-word' reply tweet he reportedly made before deleting it shortly after the brief benefit of the doubt bc it was 1. supposedly under someone else's tweet talking about the play incident and 2. i cannot count how many times i have accidently commented/almost posted something on here or YouTube or Reddit or ao3 bc i was on mobile and once the keyboard's open the app/browser flips the fuck out and puts the search bar and the comment box too close together. now if his ass shows up and shows out and stands ten toes down while he's currently on time-out or doesn't address any of this we're dealing with a different story. if more examples of him acting like this come out i'll drop him faster than you can call the election it will be that serious.

anyway for now i'm choosing to keep an eye on this while acknowledging that us Black folks do have the right to be upset and pissed as fuck. we deal with enough racism/microaggressions in fandom spaces as it is we definitely don't need new ones, and we don't need them from the past career choice of the main cast of a show a lot of us enjoy. amen

[rileyslibrary]

can you maybe do something where like, things simon does when he realizes he’s falling for you? :,)

Let me start by saying that I see Simon as someone more accustomed to others falling for him than the other way around. Like, he is the one who tends to be pursued rather than being the pursuer, if you know what I mean? I don’t know why but I feel he doesn’t have to put too much effort into wooing someone (and he probably knows that). A tall, beefy dude with a rugged appearance and that voice of his? The guy has it easy.

Now, what if he’s the one who falls for someone first? Aha! Well, He doesn’t even realise he has feelings for you, but they manifest in other ways, mainly through actions.

Ghost, as your lieutenant, for example, starts assigning you to low-risk missions or insists on accompanying you to ensure you’re safe.

In a more personal context, Simon offers to pick you up from your home so you don’t have to walk or take public transportation. He might even escort you to your car at night to protect you.

He tells you jokes he thinks you’d enjoy. He absolutely loves it when you laugh; he feels defeated when you roll your eyes and even a bit salty when you already know the joke (or fail to “get” it.)

He pays close attention to the details. He remembers your favourite food, how you like your coffee/tea, and your pet’s name. No, he won’t cook for you (yet), but he’s taking mental notes, studying you.

However, he’s not aware of what he’s doing exactly (or why he’s doing it, for that matter). It’s not until the rest of the team notices and insinuates that there’s something more between you two that he comes face to face with his emotions. Emotions he’s not ready to accept yet.

He rejects the idea that he has developed feelings for you and hopes that by suppressing ignoring them, they’ll fade away. But, as my boy Freud once said, “unexpressed emotions never die; they are buried alive and come forth later in uglier ways.”

He begins distancing himself from you. He rebuilds the walls you once torn down and returns to treating you just like everyone else. He had people he loved before, and it’s only brought him pain. His past experiences have left deep scars, and he’s determined not to go through that again. He’s not just doing it just for himself, though; he also wants to protect you from him and the pain.

Him. Pain. What’s the difference?

You, on the other hand, pick up on his behaviour but don’t confront him about it. “You know how the lieutenant is,” they once told you. “Sometimes he’s all jokes, other times he’s just business.” Maybe, you think, he needs his space. So you begin mirroring his actions, pulling away and giving what he seemingly wants.

But he secretly doesn’t want you to do that. Contrary to what he hoped to achieve by distancing himself from you and, therefore, from his feelings for you, he falls even harder.

Once cocky and arrogant, now he’s insecure. He starts projecting his fears onto you, feeling that you’re the one pulling away, even though you’re merely respecting his unspoken need for space.

So he confronts you. He wants an explanation for the change in your demeanour. And you? Well, you tell him the truth; you thought he needed some space. Right?

Who knows. Maybe you were just respectful. Perhaps you were giving him a taste of his own medicine.

It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he gets it now. Running away from his feelings or those he cares about doesn’t work, just like ignoring his emotions won’t make them disappear. On the contrary, they directly affect both him and you.

Of course, he doesn’t admit it. No, he wouldn’t be caught dead doing that.

Yet, he decides to (re)open up to you, this time gradually, bit by bit, at his own pace. Just for a chance that this calculated, ruthless operator that many perceive him to be can finally transform into a genuinely emotionally invested human being for the first time.

[cringefailvox]

my ultimate fantasy for hazbin s2 is a reveal of something in alastor's past that he can't explain away or justify, something genuinely morally reprehensible, and he and the other residents of the hotel have to navigate around each other with the renewed sense of "right, he's actually a bad guy."

i feel like the show and the fandom both sometimes forget that alastor is actually legitimately morally corrupt because he's superficially nice and abides by certain rules and social mores. but he like, does murder people. that's a real thing that he does.

i feel like he can get woobified a little and portrayed as like, a byronic hero who's always actually in the right but judged and misunderstood. there's an element of truth to that, but he's mostly a selfish and cruel person who does awful things because he doesn't care.

it would be personally EXTREMELY satisfying to see him face real consequences for the way he treats people, especially from the hotel that he seems to have grown to care about. fuck that deer UP!!!

REAL AND TRUE. it's always interesting to me the way murder is evaluated in fandom next to like, sexual assault, as being the more redeemable crime somehow, which i think is quite evident in the way people talk about alastor vs valentino -- neither of these characters is remorseful or even particularly in a hurry to justify the horrendous things they do, and yet i've noticed a general tendency towards letting alastor off the hook for the serial killing but not budging on the line that val is irredeemable. and like, ofc with the caveat that this is fiction and neither of them are real, but it's interesting sometimes how people measure crimes with a value system predicated on distance, where serial killers are so removed from the average person that it's nearly outlandish, definitely a spectacle, but sexual assault is real and immediate in a way that hits people harder. there's also the matter that alastor is part of the main cast and val is a secondary antagonist -- but anyway this is getting off topic from what you were asking

i absolutely agree that i'm excited to see the show really begin to grapple with the ethics of the main cast, esp alastor, because it's like. we know he's a terrible person. the gang knows he's a terrible person. but it really comes back to the bit in episode five, when lucifer (rightly, in this case, but unhelpfully) points out that alastor represents all the worst things about sinners, that he epitomizes everything lucifer loathes about hell, and charlie's response pivots neatly away from that ethical problem: "he's defending this hotel. it might be a bit more sadistic than i'd hoped, but he's doing it for me." alastor can be as morally bankrupt as he wants so long as it's in the service of a cause that charlie perceives as good

this actually makes perfect sense for charlie's character and it's sooo fascinating. she doesn't actually seem to care about how horrific everyone in hell behaves all the time -- what she cares about is those people dying en masse without any value judgment from heaven, she's affronted that it's all numbers to them, she really seems like she's only spearheading this redemption program because she thinks it'll bring down overpopulation and stop heaven, not because she was genuinely bothered by the rampant sin before. "happy day in hell" is all about how much she loves hell and keeps putting an optimistic spin on all the property damage and cannibalism and public bdsm. she doesn't care about alastor being evil because he's not her redemption poster child, but she DOES care about angel getting into turf wars and doing drugs in the hotel because it reflects badly on her. girl i need to see your personal ethics and values get cracked the fuck open so bad

[starrtiny]

Can't Help Myself No More

a/n this is my first fic so i hope ya'll enjoy :)) I had this idea planned but it took me almost a month to write... i hope it's worth it for y’all

summary: To put it plainly, the guy was a nerd. A hot nerd you wanted to fuck! Chris is eye candy to everyone in the office - including you. Only, he doesn't see it. He's too sweet and innocent to see the flirting and the hidden intentions of everyone around him, or is he? Maybe he's not who he seems to be... words - 6.5k general - explicit content, chan + female reader, mutual pining, colleagues to lovers, semi-public sex, he's kind of a virgin, praise + degradation kink if you squint

🎵 007 - Tabber

You let out a loud sigh and sat up in your seat as you looked at the clock on the wall across from you. It was a Friday night and way past the end of shift, but you’d been given so much work this past week that you had no choice but to work overtime. And it just so happened to be with non-other than Chris.

Most of the lights had been turned off and it was just you two left in the office. You had barely spoken to him since the start of the week and the tension lingered heavily in the room. You didn’t know why, it’s not like what you had seen was a big deal, but for some reason it still weighed on your mind and no matter what, you just couldn’t shift it.

You didn’t know how to speak to him, after all, he wasn’t the person you thought he was anymore.

No! Stop being overdramatic!

He was the same person – he just wasn’t how you perceived him to be. He wasn’t a sad loser, he wasn’t weak, and he certainly didn’t rely on you.

You were bitter.

You needed him to need you and god did it pain you to admit it.

Monday morning. You were sat at your desk, still half asleep, praying for it to be Friday already. Your ears had pricked up at the mention that Chris had arrived. Pulling your head up off the table, you groaned at the thought of him being finely polished and his cheerful self this early in the morning.

‘How are you so happy on a Monday morning?’ you had questioned him as he arrived at the desk opposite yours, placing his bag on top and wrapping his jacket around the back of his chair, your eyes hesitating on his arms as his biceps flexed.

Chris was fit. Physically.

He loved working out and you were in awe of how strong a man like him was. Chris was eye candy around the office too, and it always made you laugh at how oblivious he was too it. The younger girls were constantly bringing him snacks and drinks, offering to do the littlest things for him, twirling their hair whenever he walked by or spoke to them to turn them away (extremely politely of course).

‘They’re just being kind,’ he had always told you.

As far as you knew, Chris was single. He had been the whole time you knew him. He had never shown any interest in anyone at work either, whether he knew pretty much the entire office was hitting on him or not. It did surprise you, but in a sad way, you kind of liked it. He was hot but you also found him incredibly adorable. The way he sought your approval on every piece of work he did, even though you two were on the same level. The way he would get you anything without you needing to ask. The way he would scrunch his nose as he pushed his glasses up at the bridge…

To put it plainly, the guy was a nerd. A hot nerd you wanted to fuck!

‘Guess I’m just a morning person,’ He smiled at you, and you felt your heart melt. It happened every time and it never got old. ‘I was about to go grab coffees for everyone, you coming’?’

The sun glared in your eyes as you walked down the street, side by side next to Chris, and you could feel your face burning, cursing yourself for not putting on sunscreen that morning. You laughed with him as he attempted to shield your face, bumping into each other multiple times due to lack of vision and personal space. Anyone walking past on the street would assume you two to be a couple and it made your heart ache. You ignored the pain and forced yourself to block that idea from your head. You didn’t have a crush on him, you just didn’t object to the idea of being with him... You were just curious what it would be like… Right?

He held open the door for you as you entered to store and you watched from a distance as he ordered your drinks, oblivious to the women behind the till writing her number on his cup.

That was when it had happened.

You blamed yourself for being too obsessive.

If you weren’t insistent on hanging from his every word and move, you would have missed it. You wouldn’t be in the position you are now.

Chris had pulled his wallet from his back pocket, using his card to pay for the drinks for the office. Your eyes were caught by the light being reflected from a packet inside and your heart sank, a pit growing in your stomach making you feel more nauseous by the second.

You spent the rest of the day, the rest of the week, fighting yourself on it, deciding whether to care or not. He was a grown man after all, and it wasn’t really your business, but it was Chris. You couldn’t argue that he was extremely hot so him being with other people wouldn’t really be a surprise, but this was the man who was blissfully unaware of the flirting he received from his colleagues for two whole years.

Maybe you just wanted him to be innocent. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did after all…

What you did know however, was that this only made you want him more!

“Have you finished for tonight?” you hear Chris utter as he looks up from his computer.

“Yeah, I think so,” you moan. “I’m not going to get very far with this tonight. I’ll have a fresh start Monday morning” you let out a weak smile in his direction.

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll drive you home”.

What the fuck…

You gave him a slight nod, caught off guard.

Chris had never offered anything like that before, what did it mean? Maybe you were reading too far into this, but then again, you’d known each other for years and didn’t even know where each other lived. What was with the suddenly change...?

Your thoughts were interrupted by noise of Chris rapidly tapping against his keyboard, your focus being instantly drawn as his slender fingers were lit up by the moonlight shining in through the crack in the blinds. You let your eyes wander as he reached for the mouse and delicately scrolled…

You cursed yourself for letting your mind drift, plagued by your newfound information about Chris’ sex life, only to get cut off once again by Chris fiddling with the buckles on his bag.

He’s your co-worker

“I’m ready if you are” You look up and he was returning the gaze towards you cheerfully and you instantly noticed the absence of his glasses. Your heart throbbed as your colleague had suddenly become 10x more attractive and a deep pit formed in your stomach, wondering how you are meant to survive a car journey with him while he looked like that.

On the drive home, you found yourself basically gripping the car door, begging for oxygen. Chris had once again removed his suit jacket and had leant over to throw it onto the backseat. You found yourself rushing to look away before he turned back in case you couldn’t control yourself and kissed him there and then. To make matters worse, he had proceeded to roll up his shirt sleeves, accentuating his thick forearms that made you almost break a sweat. He had one hand carefully gripping the wheel and the other placed gently on the gear stick. You watched intently through your peripherals, the way Chris’ arm flexed every time he changed gear or turned the wheel using the palm of his hand – you had learnt something new about yourself that day and as much as you wanted to be mad, you were enjoying it just a little bit too much.

Once you arrived home, you fought yourself on asking him inside.

He’s you co-worker  you repeatedly reminded yourself, before thanking him and getting out of the car. You took your time however, hoping for a sign that he might want this too, only, it never came.

You went to home that night, your chest heavy with guilt and regret.

Chris knew exactly what he was doing. He felt disgusting and he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself.

Chris had known he wanted you since the day he first lied eyes on you, and it only grew by the day. Watching you around the office pained him. You were so kind-hearted and caring to everyone there, he couldn’t help but want it all to himself.

He wanted you to himself.

He often found himself pretending to not understand something just so you could stare into his eyes while you slowly explained it to him, just so he could get a brief glance down your shirt and at your cleavage as you bent over his desk, just so he could see your skirt slightly lift as you leant over, and just so he could watch you walk away.

He found his slacks tighten every time you switched persona and dominated the office, assigning roles and complaining when work wasn’t up to standard. It was a shame though, he thought, that he was the only person you never seemed to be mean to.

This is my punishment  he had decided. His fantasies were disgusting, and the universe was taking it out on him for being a pervert.

He had to take his jacket off as soon as he got into the car. Chris had caught himself looking as you lifted your bare leg to fold over the other, skirt lifting and briefly showing your underwear (which Chris had accidently noted matched your bra that day). He felt his chest tighten and his cheeks grew warm. He felt suffocated, needing to calm and cool himself before you noticed something was wrong. Chris had worked so hard to keep up his sweet persona, hiding how truly disgusting he was from you, and he was not about to let it slip now.

He didn’t know what had come over him 10 minutes prior asking to give you a lift – a sudden wave of confidence. Never before had Chris had the courage to ask you out, not that this was a date, but it counted for something. Maybe it was because you had joined him earlier in the week for the coffee run and he had deluded himself into thinking you wanted him too. Maybe it was because he had noticed you strangely drifting away recently and needed to win you back. Maybe he finally was finally going to make a move…

“You’ve been avoiding me this week” Chris shocked himself when he noticed he was the one who had just spoken.

You shifted anxiously in your seat, “I’ve just gotten myself tired… too much work I guess”.

You looked over to Chris, sending him a smile, hoping that he believed you.

He didn’t.

But the way you looked at him caused him to forget to care.

15 minutes later, he pulled up outside your house after what felt like the shortest car journey of his life. The rain pattered on the windshield as you gathered your belongings and Chris racked his brain for any excuse to come in or to not let you leave the car.

He couldn’t find one.

You bid him goodbye and wished him a safe journey home before running inside to escape the rain. You threw your bags onto the floor as you entered your house, sighing, kicking off your shoes and falling back against the door. You rubbed your face, wondering how much longer you had to suffer like this and what you had to do to get over him.

Your thoughts, however, didn’t last for long as they were cut off by the panic caused by the feel of your coat pocket feeling strangely empty, where your phone once was.  You ran over to your bags, rummaging through and finding nothing.

Shit

You knew exactly where it was.

Of course it is

Chris’ car. It must have fallen out. You wanted to scream at the universe for this. No matter what, everything just circled back to him. You were not getting over him anytime soon…

You picked yourself up off the floor and rushed towards your door. He might still be outside you had convinced yourself – you prayed. You were prepared to run out into the rain bare footed, only to be stopped by a figure as you pulled open your front door. 

“You, um, left this in my car” He spoke, so quiet it was almost a whisper.

You didn’t realise how badly you needed to see him in that moment. He was like a drug, and you were having withdrawals. Nobody had ever made you feel like this, and it scared you. Your fingers brushed as you took the phone from him, not breaking eye contact once and you were convinced you saw a darkness flash over his eyes. Did he want you too? Did he feel the same? Your brief touch left you needing more, feeling empty without him and all you could think about in that moment was having his soft skin back on yours again.

Your hands had a mind of their own; you felt them reach towards Chris, dropping the phone that brought you two together onto the floor, and pulling him towards you. It didn’t take much, he was already moving you backwards, his hands on your waist and yours on his tie.

You felt him push against you hungrily while a hand snapped round the back of your head to protect it from the wall behind you. His other hand remained on your waist, caging you in and unknowingly keeping you up when you felt like your knees were about to give way.

His kiss was passionate and soft, but you could tell he wasn’t holding back. There was determination in his actions, and you let him. You swallowed your pride and any nagging thoughts in the back of your mind and just let him have you. You just wanted to enjoy the moment you had waited years for.

Only it didn’t last long.

It was over just as quickly as it started.

You felt Chris pull away, running his hand through his hair, aggravated, and muttering a shitty excuse about being sorry or how he shouldn’t have done it. You watched as he backed out of the door you two had conveniently left open and the deafening silence pulled you back to reality; you were abandoned against the wall, frozen in place.

You spent that weekend rearranging your house, putting any furniture you could against the empty wall in hopes to disguise it. Every time you looked over, you couldn’t help but relive your moment together, making you feel nauseous and yet, no matter what, you just couldn’t look way. You eventually decided on a pot plant, one you had found at a market you had dragged yourself to as a distraction. (It hadn’t worked)

The metaphor was ironic – something was growing and it wasn’t your love. You dreaded going back to work. You were used to the tension between you two over the past week but god, this was too much. Maybe you could hand in your two weeks’ notice? Do you think they’d accept two days? You wrote it up and printed it off nonetheless.

Maybe it’s for the best  you considered. This could be your way out. He tried it with you, he made it blatantly clear he didn’t want it and you certainly couldn’t face him again after that. If you quit and got a new job elsewhere, maybe you might have a chance of getting over him.

You can’t run away from your problems!  You ignored that thought. You weren’t really in the mood for thinking logically today.

You had shown up late to work Monday morning. At least you were there though, it was more than what you expected of yourself. Thankfully no one had picked up on the distance between you and Chris – metaphorically and physically. You were convinced he’d furthered himself from you…

You spat out some lie of coming down with a cold to anyone who questioned your tardiness and to your surprise everyone bought it. Well, so you thought.

“Hey, can I speak to you when you get chance?” you had called out to your boss as she rushed past your desk, mid task.

“If this is about you quitting, then the answer is no” she pinched the bridge of her nose and stopped in her tracks. You two had a great relationship and were extremely close, considering that she was your boss. Your friendship allowed you two to be completely honest and tell each other things exactly how they were; you only realised this was a curse in disguise as she saw straight through you.

“W-what?”

“You left your notice on your desk,” she sighed, and you whipped your head round to your desk, panicked. To your surprise, there sat Chris, adamantly watching the conversation unfold, a sad look glazed over his eyes.

You reminded yourself to laugh about that later.

“If you’re going to quit, can you at least wait and do it at a time when we’re not so busy?” She turned back to her assistant and proceeded to continue their prior conversation, walking off and leaving you frozen in your tracks. You tried calling after her, but you knew that was as far as you were going to get with her. Defeated, you made your way back over to your desk where Chris had decided to finally look away.

If the tension between you two wasn’t obvious to everyone in the office, it sure was now.

He wasn’t sure how he had ended up in this situation again. It was Monday evening, and everyone had left – except him and you. Every time Chris was left alone with you, he struggled to contain himself. The weight on his chest was a constant reminder of how badly he had fucked up at the weekend by letting his impulses take over and as a result, ruined one of the only good things in his life.

“You’re quitting because of me?” Jesus Christ, he needed to learn to stop talking whenever there was an awkward silence. You looked up from your paperwork and glared at him.

What a dick!

“Not everything is about you Chris”.

“You’ve been quiet all day…” he pushed.

“I’m just tired that’s all”.

“You’ve used that excuse before” he smirked at you from across the table.

“Why don’t you just mind your own fucking business?” You stood up, slamming your hands on the table in front of you and hovered over Chris. Silence echoed throughout the room, and you instantly felt a deep pit growing in your stomach.

“Shit! I’m sorry,” you rushed out, looking away. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that”. You were completely oblivious however, to Chris tucking his chair in as close as possible or finding anything he could to cover his crotch after your sudden outburst. Was it wrong for him to want to keep going, to keep pushing you? He knew you felt guilty for your actions, but he saw red and from then on, could only think with his dick...

The guilt, however, overcame you. You knew Chris didn’t deserve for you to shout at him like that and that you were taking your own emotions out on him. He was only teasing you, probably trying to lighten the mood and rid of the heavy tension lingering between you two and you went and ruined it – again!

You couldn’t take it anymore. You reached down to pick up your bag from underneath your desk and began packing away any files you may need.

I’ll finish it at home  you thought to yourself. You couldn’t stand to be around Chris anymore and needed to get out before you did anything else you regretted. That was until your thoughts were cut off by the feeling of being harshly spun around until you felt the backs of your thighs hit your desk. You were faced with the man you were trying so hard to avoid, caging you in and giving you a sense of déjà vu to the Friday evening you had spent together three days prior.

“What are you doing?” your voice small.

He had bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know” he croaked out. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was fighting with himself, and it pained you to go through this for a second time.

“You don’t want this” you let out in a whisper. His eyes suddenly snapped open, and his head whipped up.

“W-what? No, of course I want this”. He had shrunk his head down to your level and looked you straight in the eye.

He was genuine.

“Why did you run away last time then?”

“I was scared. I thought you didn’t want this”. He broke eye contact and backed away again.

You couldn’t help but smile, “I want this”.

“I want this too” He leant back onto the desk behind you and hesitantly left a peck on the corner of your mouth, feeling him smile against you. His body swallowed yours and you wanted to stay in his warmth forever.

That was until you felt it against your thigh.

You looked down and Chris felt your body shake against him as you giggled; his face flushed when he realised what was going on. He’d gotten distracted from his problem during your sudden confession that he forgot the reason he stopped you from leaving in the first place.

He leant behind you and swiped everything off your desk (a bold move for him), barely giving you chance to argue before pulling you towards him by the waist, spinning you around and pushing you forward, leaving you to catch and hold yourself up on the desk, now in front of you. Your button up shirt hung lose, exposing your shoulder, allowing Chris to pull it down where he began to leave a trail of kisses down your back as he lightly dragged his index finger up your thigh, underneath your mini skirt. You could image him smirking as you let out a gasp and arched your back slightly at his cold touch. “Do you do this to all your girls?” you snarked, breathlessly.

His touched stopped at your sudden comment and Chris spun you back round to face him, picking you up and placing you onto the table.

“What girls?” He asked, a look of confusion spread across his face.

“I don’t know, I just thought… you know,” you hesitated “I saw your wallet.”

“Oh”

You stared at him blankly as he worked up the courage to explain himself. “My friends put it in there as a joke on a night out,” He squinted at you, as if he was scared to see your reaction. “Something about hyping myself up to actually get laid” His voice faded out towards the end of his sentence.

You grabbed his tie, slowly bringing him closer to you. “Have you ever...?”

“Just once” He blushed.

You giggled into his mouth as you pulled him into a kiss. “Cute”

For someone with such little experience, Chris sure knew his way around your mouth. Your little pecks quickly turned into a heated make out where his hands began roaming your body, eventually finding your shirt buttons, and beginning to undo them. His lips followed, making their way down your neck and eventually to your chest. His hands found their way to your breasts, cupping them and causing you to question whether he really was as unexperienced as he said he was…

You watched as Chris’ eye line changed to your cleavage and you couldn’t help but adore how innocent he was, getting distracted so easily, which corrected your previous train of thought. You brought him back to reality by directing his lips back to your chest and you felt a pair of large hands grip your thighs, pulling you forward and causing you to fall backwards as Chris continued his way down your stomach.

The remains of his kisses sent chills throughout your body as they went cold, causing you to seek warmth in Chris, edging closer towards him and placing your legs over his shoulders as his warm breath heated your core. You choked out a gasp as his nose brushed against your clit and he laid soft kisses against the top of your underwear in an attempt to tease you.

‘Your wet…’ he spoke, almost surprised.

‘It’s all you’.

You felt Chris suck in a breath and pause beneath you, you could sense his nerves from above. You grabbed him by his curls, pulling his head up and forcing him to make eye contact with you. You begged him with your eyes before forcing his head back down, granting him permission.

You felt him leave a soft lick down your centre and waited for your protests. He was met with comfortable silence allowing him to repeat the motion, eventually picking up the pace and soon leaving longer strips that caused you to thrust your hips forward, pushing you even closer to him. You felt as he peeled your underwear off of you, letting it dangle around your ankle, and his tongue gently slipped between your folds, licking a few strips before finding your hole and began tongue fucking you. His free hand had moved down to your hip where his thumb reaching down to toy with your clit. Your hands were still in his hair, and you couldn’t help but pull at it, reassuring and guiding him as he began to go down on you. He peeled his last hand away from your waist and was brought it up to your core, feeling your slit before he slowly entered a finger. Your deep groan cause Chris to twitch in his jeans, encouraging him to push it in deeper before pulling out and entering a second. You felt his lips kiss at your nub where he started to lick and kiss. Chris vibrated against you as he let out moans, almost sending you into overdrive and you couldn’t help but grind against him; his thrusts speeding up to match you.

“Cameras” you had managed to make out in between moans as you felt yourself grow closer to finishing, shooting up and disappointingly pushing Chris away. You had suddenly been brought back to reality by your moans echoing in the empty room and you realised where you were. There was a very high chance that you two were going to get caught and as much as you loved this new side of Chris, you knew that even he wasn’t kinky enough to properly do you up against your desk in his place of work. Yes, you had tried to resign from your job only 5 hours prior but now everything seemed to be sorting itself out and you didn’t really want to lose your job this way.

Chris pulled away from you, horror spread across your face and you internally panicked, wondering if you had ruined your one and only chance of being with him like this… He trailed his hands up your hips before picking you up and helping you off of your desk. You both giggled as you wiped his mouth for him and he gave you a reassuring peck on the cheek, as if he could read your mind, before grabbing both your bags and quickly leading you out of the office by the hand.

The silence left Chris in his own thoughts, replaying the events of the last 5 minutes on repeat in his head. You were currently stood side by side with him in the elevator, the slight touch of your arms driving him crazy, and he used everything within him to hold himself back from finishing what he had just begun. He knew that if anyone saw anything, then both your careers would be ruined, but the memory of how you sounded and tasted underneath him was fogging his brain and he found himself struggling to stay focused.

He felt your hand reach into his trouser pocket, placing something inside. It didn’t take Chris long to realise it was your underwear and in return, you felt his hand begin to trail up the inside of your thigh. You bit back a gasp, knowing exactly where this was going and what Chris was trying to do. You felt his fingers play with the hem of your skirt and back to the inside of your leg. You tilted your head slightly to find Chris facing forward, straight faced, as if he wasn’t the one currently with his hands up your skirt. You took note on how he had angled your belongings to cover his actions from the camera in the corner of the elevator and remembered to reward him for it later.

The lift opened after what felt like forever and Chris led you out towards the car park, his hand on the small of your back and further positioning himself behind you as it gradually got lower. He didn’t know what had gotten into him but no matter what, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You were a magnet and the connection between you two was so strong, he couldn’t leave you alone. Once you eventually reached his car, he held open the passenger door for you, reminding you how easily he could switch personas and you struggled to believe this was the same man who was between your legs, ready to devour you, just moments prior. Chris threw your belongings onto the backseats in a hurry before rushing into the driver’s seat, removing his jacket, and pushing his sleeves up. He suddenly seemed anxiously frantic, and you would find him adorable if you weren’t pent up.

You gave him little to no time before you were reaching over to him, grabbing his hand, and pulling it underneath your skirt. Your eyes rolled back, your head hitting the seat behind you at the relief the slight touch gave you, “Just do something Chris!”

The way you spoke his name was like his own personal porn, and the sight of you being so needy for him and him only made him weak in the knees, willing to do anything you asked of him. You felt the way he froze in place, shocked by how direct you were; his fingers moving only slightly, hesitant to touch you. You sighed and leant over, grabbing him by the chin and smashing your lips into his to close the gap between you.

You pulled away, “You just had me over a desk and edged me in an elevator, and now you’re too shy to actually touch me?” you giggled against his lips. Obviously, you were exaggerating, but you knew Chris had put on a façade and it was beginning to crack.

‘I don’t want it to be here’.

‘I don’t think I can wait any longer’, you whispered in his ear before beginning to kiss down his neck, sucking slightly and leaving a trail of marks. You were proud of yourself, excited about your female coworkers seeing the mess you made tomorrow and finally being able to claim Chris as yours.

Too in the moment, you failed to notice a hand wrapping around your legs and pulling you into Chris’ lap. Your lack of underwear caused you to gasp as you moved against the bulge in your colleagues’ slacks, also receiving a deep groan from Chris that could’ve made you come undone then and there.

The sound was music to your ears, causing you to repeat the motion and begin grinding on his clothed cock. Chris threw his head back as he let out a string of moans and you proceeding marking him, down his Adams apple to his chest. His hands found your shirt, still partially unbuttoned and loose around you, and reached underneath, pulling your breasts from your bra and toying with them. Eventually, he frantically reached underneath you and pulled down his trousers. Your actions continued but the only fabric separating you now was the thin layer of his boxers. You could feel him. The outline, shape, width… You felt dizzy and didn’t know how much more of you two teasing each other you could take.

‘I need you’ You croaked out. ‘Now!’

He nodded aggressively at you, unable to formulate any words as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. You couldn’t help but share a giggle as he took out the item that got you into this mess in the first place.

You struggled to stop yourself from staring as he rolled the condom onto himself and didn’t fail to notice the slight smirk on Chris’ face. You had felt he was big, but you hadn’t expected this and your mind ran with ideas of what you wanted to do to him. You’d have to save that for next time however, because you felt yourself throb at the sight and you needed him inside you ASAP.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, pulling yourself up off Chris’ lap and positioning yourself.

‘Are you sure you’re ok with this’ Chris had asked, nerves lacing his voice, worried you would change your mind last minute. Internally you groaned; you were hovering over his cock, tits and pussy out, practically begging him to take him and he was still worried.

‘Yes yes yes,’ you managed to mumbled out, struggling to speak as you threw your head back at the friction from brushing against his tip. You appreciated him asking for consent and found his nerves adorable, but you were too inpatient to care anymore. ‘Just please… do something’

Your statement lit a flame in Chris, causing him to pull you down and push himself up, meeting you halfway and thrusting into you. The sting hurt so good, and you fell forward, leaning your forehead against his as you tried to adjust to his size.

‘Halfway there’ Chris groaned against your lips, kissing down your jaw as he waited for you to move again.

Picking yourself back up, your hands fell to Chris’ chest as you sank further down. He swallowed a moan as he watched you take all of him where you waited a few moments before moving, rocking against him. You rushed to remove the hand that Chris used to cover his mouth in attempt to muffle his moans, replacing it with your mouth. The kisses were sloppy, your tongues fighting one another but it didn’t matter to you, you just needed him closer to you in any way you could. You picked up the pace, starting to move up and down, and his naïve moans turning you on even more than any of your partners before. His pelvic bone brushed against your clit, causing you to whimper as he matched your actions, thrusting upwards and bouncing you on his cock. Chris reached out to hold your breasts still hanging loosely out of your clothing, not knowing what to do with himself and still aware of his lack of knowledge surrounding the act.

His lips left yours and instead, sucked onto your skin, returning the favour and leaving marks down your chest. You found your hands returning to his hair and you couldn’t help but play with the soft curls hanging down the back of his neck, tugging on them in surprise when Chris’ teeth grazed your nipple. He let his tongue swirl around your areola a few times to tease you before sucking on your nipple and squeezing your other with his free hand. He made sure to swap over, taking even turns on both your tits and you fell back, hands resting behind you on his knees as you grinded forward.

‘I don’t think I can…last…much longer’ Chris coughed out. You watched as mixed emotions flashed across his face, but you had known him long enough to be able to read him like a book. Due to his lack of experience, Chris was annoyed he couldn’t last longer for you, keep you in this moment for longer, see you like this for longer. You felt a grin spread across your face, once again adoring how cute you found him.

‘That’s ok,’ you reassured. ‘Doing so well for me anyway’.

Your hair tickled your back as you tipped your head back in pleasure as he thrusted harder at your praise, and you both began to pick up the pace. Beads of sweat rolled down Chris’ scrunched up face and you had never found him sexier before; the urge to corrupt him only growing stronger.

The sound of your skin slapping together rang in your ears as it echoed throughout the now fogged up car. You were thankful for the empty car park as you were sure the car rocking would give you two away to any passerby. You reached out to hold onto anything around you as you felt yourself growing closer, your hand smearing the condensation against the glass window.

‘I think I’m going to…’ Chris whined out, his head dropping to your shoulder and his large hands returned to your waist.

‘Me too baby’ giving him permission, you cut him off and grabbed onto the headrest behind him as you felt him harshly thrust into you a few more times before tensing up and letting out a loud, deep moan as he climaxed, one causing you to do the same. You continued to ride him through your orgasms before collapsing into his arms, too tired to move.

You pulled him into your apartment, his lips attempting to find yours in the dark as you stumbled around trying to remove each other’s clothes.

‘What the fuck is that?’ Chris had pulled away and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw his silhouette fighting your new plant. ‘It’s in my spot!’

‘I had to cover it up after our previous rendezvous’ you muttered, guiding him back to your lips in hopes of changing the subject.

You felt Chris frown against you. ‘I’ll be moving that in the morning,’ he spoke in between kisses. ‘I liked having you against that wall’.

‘Oh… Staying the night, are you?

‘I am’ he gave you one last peck on the lips before picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards your room for round 2…

a/n if y’all read this far… i hope you enjoyed :)) Ellie-mai… this is for you pookie bear <3

🤍 please consider reposting or commenting if you like my work!!!

[spatialwave]

"baby, don't you know? that you're my golden hour."

pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x ftm!actor!reader word count: 2.5k summary: being an up-and-coming actor had you fighting tooth and nail for opportunities. you were young, though, still had much to learn and people to impress. you were surprised when cooper howard took it upon himself to mentor you. the cowboy star supported you through thick & thin — a light in your life that reminded you everything would be alright. warnings/tags: sfw, implied transphobia, angst, grief, mention of death, hurt/comfort, fluff. notes: as a transmasc enby, i get very passionate writing ftm!reader stories. this had been sitting in my brain for awhile, so thank you to anon for sending an ask that kicked my ass into gear and write it!

“what do you mean? they told me last week that i had the goddamn job,” your voice was loud and snappy, jaw clenching as you fell back into the chair with a heavy thud, “i did three goddamn auditions and even did a table read, now they’re saying i’m not the right fit? what the hell is that supposed to mean? i put in the fucking work already.”

you were sitting in your agent’s office full of luxury furniture, expensive paintings and the gaudiest decorations. with a red face, you huffed as he explained to you the situation at hand.

your next movie had dropped you as the supporting actor. it would’ve given you enough screen time for it to be your real breakthrough role and shoot you up into the fame and glory you’d been fighting for.

“well,” your agent sighed, leaning forward against his desk, “there’s been word going around about you.”

defensive, you furrowed your brows in confusion, “what word?”

he’d grown uncomfortable, putting one leg over the other as he rested into his chair and thought about what to say next. he needed to be careful with his words, seeing that you had been ready to knock shit off of his desk if he angered you anymore.

“i think you should read this,” he murmured, filtering through papers on his desk until he grabbed a folded newspaper and pushed it toward you.

your heart sank as you snatched the paper, eyes wide and shaky when you read the front page. it was all about you. your deadname was plastered in large text as the article detailed your past that you had gone lengths to keep out of the public eye.

you changed your name, moved away from home and started your transition quietly. you had done everything to make sure that people perceived you the way you wanted.

but life was never that easy.

your eyes settled on a few words, ‘a trusted source confirmed.’ thoughts ran through your mind, thinking of any person who you’d grown up with, family members, ex-friends—anyone who would be willing to spill career-ruining information for a quick lump of cash. 

“i had no idea—“ your agent spoke, but you cut him off.

“i was hoping to keep it that way until i was in a damn grave” you said, voice calm but cheeks red and breath heavy, “fuck this.”

there was nothing worth sticking around for, who the hell would want to hire you now? there were too many close-minded people in the world, and you could already imagine the headlines of them lumping you right in with the opposition. a trans, american communist.

fucking christ.

the following week you isolated yourself in your apartment, high-end and expensive. you couldn’t even feel comfortable in your own home because the looming possibility of being unable to pay rent was alive and very real. you stayed in your bed, wondering how on earth you thought you’d be able to careen through life without anyone finding out.

you were lucky that your mother supported you every step of the way when you were a young, confused teen. she helped you navigate your feelings and even urged you to talk to a professional. one year later, you’d started testosterone injections.

she passed three years ago, leaving you with nothing but her memories and the devastating reality that you’d be alone from here on out. you always hoped your secret died with her.

you melted away on your bed as the sound of thunder boomed loudly and shook your apartment, rotting into nothingness. sleep was on the horizon, but you’d been interrupted by a buzzing sound vibrating from your intercom. you didn’t move, keeping your eyes shut tight and hoping the sound would stop. 

buzz.

“who is it?” you asked tiredly, pressing your forehead against the buzzer.

“a friend,” a southern voice replied, full of static.

you let go of the button that connected your voice to the intercom at the entrance of your apartment, closing your eyes and wishing that cooper would turn around and leave. His pity was far from what you needed

you were angry at the world, and that included him.

swallowing a lump down your throat, you pressed the door buzzer, feeling it vibrate beneath your finger until you were certain the cooper was inside the apartment and out of the rain.

with a blanket strung over your shoulders, your bare feet padded against the hardwood flooring as you unlocked your door. three locks for safety.

you waited to hear footsteps, your ear pressed against the door while your gazed focused on nothing in particular. a shell of a human was the only way you could describe yourself.

you’d never felt this dark before.

a gentle knock rapped against the wooden door, and you had to force yourself to open it up slowly as the lights from the hallway spilled into your dim apartment. meeting cooper’s gaze left you feeling like the smallest man in the world, even if you were the same height.

“you look like crap, kid,” cooper sighed, getting a good look at you. you hadn’t showered in a couple of days and your stubble had started to grow out. for years, you’d been so meticulous with how you looked, never once letting someone see you less than your best. not even cooper.

“stating the obvious,” you murmured, stepping back to give the older man time to step in. you didn’t bother sticking around for a proper greeting, already heading back to your bed so you could collapse on top of it, burying your face into your pillows.

the sound of cooper’s footsteps made you queasy, curling into a ball and peeking out as he turned on a lamp near the doorway. 

“why didn’t ya’ tell me?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up to his elbows, having discarded his coat and hat. you rarely ever saw him dressed so casually.

through furrowed brows, you glared at him, “i didn’t have to tell anyone a goddamn thing, you know. it was my secret to keep.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed, stepping close until you felt the bed dip down next to you, “you’re not obligated to tell anyone your secrets,” his voice was so soft, it made your stomach twist, “but you’ve been ignoring my calls. why?”

a deep, shaky breath came from you as you looked at the man sitting next to you on the bed, his face lit up by the warm lamp, “i don’t need your help. i’m fine, cooper.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, a tiny smile on his lips, “you always have been.”

you hated how well his voice and presence soothed you. for the first time in days you felt a spark of hope in your chest, but you stomped it out before it could burn bright.

“i know,” you whispered, moving to rest upright against the headboard with the blanket tight around you, “i figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with me.”

you didn’t dare look him in the eyes because the last thing you needed was for him to feel sorry for you. it wouldn’t be the first time someone questioned your identity and been turned off by it, many of your old friends had left you in the dust. considering you some kind of freak.

yet, there was cooper howard loyally at your side, his hazel eyes showing nothing but compassion and care for you.

you could remember it clear as day, the first time you filmed a scene with him. it was your first big movie gig after years of ads and small roles on television shows, a character that would be memorable if you played it well. cooper was the lead, a sheriff with a heart of gold, and you were his loveable, naive deputy. 

feeling sick to your stomach was an understatement, you vividly remember looking in a mirror and seeing how sunken in your eyes were. you’d been trembling all morning, repeating your lines under your breath as you sweltered underneath the heat radiating from the floodlights that lit up the desert scene.

cooper approached you with that big smile of his, his teeth perfect. everything about him was perfect.

the two of you had run lines weeks and days before, but as you stared at him then, you felt your mind draw a blank. you weren’t going to make a good impression on anyone, especially him.

“you good, kid?” he asked you, head tilting as the makeup department did quick touch ups before the cameras started rolling.

“yeah. i’m great, never been better.” you forced a smile, which got a snort of laughter out of the esteemed actor.

“you’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, reaching over and giving your shoulder a few strong pats, “don’t worry, alright? remember that you’re here because you deserve it. you’ve got skill.”

the rest of the movie was a breeze.

cooper had stuck by your side since then, taking on a role like a mentor. he gave you acting tips, took you for coffee to meet with a better agent, and made sure you had all the connections you needed for making your career even bigger than his own.

you’re not even sure of the exact day you fell in love with him, but after a year of pining for him in secret, you knew you had to end things before trouble found its way to you.

then, he and barb divorced. so, like the devoted little mentee you were, you stayed by his side. 

you helped him start up his gig work, which took weeks of convincing, and it only paid just enough to get the alimony to his ex-wife. you’d even started purchasing the dinners and coffees that you two love to frequent, knowing that at some point he wouldn’t be able to treat you as much as he used to.

cooper had become your lifeline, and this was the easiest way to repay him.

“why would you think that?”

cooper’s voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes readjusting to focus on the man sitting in front of you. he sat there with his brown eyes big and wide, the golden glow from your lamp creating a halo around his head. 

“well, uh, you wouldn’t be the first to think that,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you dropped your gaze, full of shame. 

he exhaled a heavy breath out of his nose, “i’d never do that to you, you know that,” his voice was a comfort to your broken heart, “look at me, i need you to see me say it,” you listened, eyes flickering up to meet his, “i will never ruin what we have over something that makes you… you,” he whispered, his hand holding yours, “you’re the same kid in my eyes and always will be.”

your bottom lip trembled as he spoke, his words digging deep into your heart and leaving you in a mess of emotions. you’d spent the last three days convincing yourself that life was over as you knew it, that all you worked for was just a heap of wood burning away into a pile of nothing.

cooper was a testament to the fact that things would be okay, even if the world wasn’t fair. after his divorce, you knew that he’d lost out on role after role, and if he managed to keep his pride, so could you.

“shit, coop, you’re so stupidly kind,” you laughed, tears rolling down your cheeks as intense emotions flooded you for the first time in months. you weren’t much of a crier, but these wouldn’t stop, “i don’t think there’s anyone in the world who’s as goddamn nice as you. it’s almost sickening how sweet you are.”

the man grinned, “don’t go rubbin’ that in, you’ll inflate my ego and you do not wanna’ see me like that.”

you let out a god-honest laugh for the first time in days, one that made your stomach flutter and leave your cheeks a little sore. 

the days got easier after that night. cooper visited you every day, bringing you a coffee and lunch, not leaving until he got a smile out of you. the two of you would sit around chatting for hours, he’d tell you all the bullshit stories of the gigs he’d picked up. he shared how barb was going to let him take janey to the gigs, too, and you saw how bright his eyes shined at the thought of getting to be with his babygirl, even for just a few hours in a day.

cooper reminded you that it was the little things that made life manageable.

a week later, he’d convinced you to go with him to see sugarfoot at her stable the day before a birthday gig, his first time that janey would tag along.

“hey, coop?” your voice was quiet as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes watching the trees pass by as you made way for the stable in a secluded area outside the city. the evening was warm and bright, filling the sky with hues of orange, red and pink.

“hm?” the man hummed, tilting his head to you, but not taking his eyes off the road.

“why me?” 

his eyes flickered to you, “what do you mean?”

“why, uh… why’d you choose to mentor me?” you mumbled.

the car slowed down as you approached the turn-off to the stable, cooper looked back to road, “guess i can’t really get away with saying it was just outta’ kindness, huh?”

you chuckled, “i want the real answer.”

as you approached the ranch, cooper rolled the vehicle to a stop and shifted into park. you moved to open up the door, but his words interrupted you.

“you reminded me of myself when i was younger,” he answered honestly, turning his head to look at you, “i figured helpin’ you out would heal my soul, or somethin’ like that.”

“how selfish of you,” you snorted, “and to think i thought you did it out of love.”

you kept laughing to yourself after you spoke, opening up the passenger door and getting out to stretch your long limbs. you turned to look over at cooper, able to see him over the roof of the car, and it was then you noticed the red blush that coated his cheeks. he couldn’t hide it from you, even if he tried.

“c’mon, coop,” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as you stepped around the vehicle, motioning for the older man to follow, “you don’t have to admit your love to me yet, just shower me in presents and i’ll know it’s true.”

“you’re a real pain in the ass. you know that, right?” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. 

neither of you needed to admit it out loud just yet, the look you shared spoke more than words could.

“i do,” you said through a smile, leaning into his touch as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss to your temple.

you leaned back, taking one long, good look at cooper. he was breathtaking under the evening sun, his skin radiant. you’d never seen him so happy.

“thank you for everything,” you said.

the colour of my sky.   you set my world on fire. and i know, i know everything’s gonna’ be alright.

[emswritingsstuff]

i saw ur head canon requesttttt, could u do something with carol x singer reader. like she was a famous singer before the outbreak 🫶🫶🫶

this is such an interesting idea i LOVE it

carol peletier x fem!singer!reader :

it was safe to say that really no one knew who you were when you joined the group. or at least they weren't outright about it

you heard some of the mumbles about it, but just from one of the younger girls. which was beth

she swore up and down she knew you and knew your voice. she could never place it, only having the realization when you started singing with her one night

she kept quiet about it though, really only telling maggie. which you were internally grateful for

despite being famous in the past life, it felt great to be treated "normally" and not having to worry about public opinion or how you were perceived

it was comedic to you, that it took the end of the world for you to be treated like a regular person

more times than not, you would catch yourself singing to yourself doing chores. just singing random songs that you had remembered, most of the time they weren't your own

while folding laundry, you sang gypsy by fleetwood mac to yourself. and when you did that carol walked past, stopping to talk to you

"i love that song, missed hearing it. you have a beautiful voice by the way."

your face instantly getting red, you took the compliment saying "thank you, i actually used to sing before everything"

that made carol smile, just thinking the singing you did was karaoke with friends

but it seemed carol always found you when you were singing, whether it was singing to judith, when you were doing chores, or just sitting by yourself in your cell

your voice relaxed her, it was like she could listen to you sing all day and she wished that was possible

when talking to beth one day, she let it slip that you were a famous in the past

carol was confused for a few reasons. why did you never talk about it? did she even know any of your song? and the most important one

how can she get a recording of you singing

before going on a run, carol enlisted the help of daryl. simply just asking him to look for a cd or anything like that of your music for her

he thought it was an odd request but kept it in the back of his head. and by the grace of god, he had found a cd of an ep you did a few years before the fall

once carol got her hands on it, she was quick to borrow (steal) rick's cd player for a bit, just wanting to listen to the music as soon as possible

to put it simply, she loved it. hearing your voice like that made her feel on cloud 9. and she even found herself remembering some of the songs

out of excitement and just pure happiness, she rushed to your cell to show you her finding

when your brain registered what she had, it all hit you. "you found out?"

"beth let it slip. can i get your autograph though?"

and of course you gave it to her

you would ask carol her favorite song, and she had to admit. her favorite was one she had heard so long ago

"the cheesy love song, my daughter liked it. every time it was on the radio she made sure it stayed on"

from that point on, you felt so comfortable to sing around her. sometimes even singing for her, which she enjoyed a lot more than what she let on

"taking any requests?"

"not usually, but for you i will"

[gachagon]

Manager!AU | Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader | NSFW (18+)

___________________________________________________________

"Oliver Aiku eats you out in an elevator before an important interview..."

Pairing: Oliver Aiku X Fem!Reader

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+, kissing, thigh fucking, pussy eating, hickeys

Being Oliver Aiku's personal Manager was a hassle but it's a job you've grown used to as your job demands you perfect his image. You've scheduled a very important meeting for him, an interview that's bound to put him in the public spotlight once and for all! However right at the moment of truth, you both get stuck in the elevator and must wait for help to arrive. If only you could be on time for once...

Being Oliver Aiku’s personal manager was a hassle, but you were willing to put up with a lot of his antics. You’ve recently gotten him to stop having so many scandals abroad in clubs as he’s a bit of a flirt, and paparazzi love catching him with random women all the time. Now, however, you had to work on making him show up on time for his usual interviews and photo-shoots. Since the invention of Blue Lock TV, Oliver has been pretty popular. You’ve been hyping him up as this lone, mysterious player with an aloof yet humble attitude, but he’s not exactly the best at keeping the image up. 

That and…sometimes he can get a bit side tracked with other things, and it’s mostly your fault. When you first started as his manager, Oliver would flirt with you in private, complimenting the way you look, your hair, your eyes. And it was a lot of fun talking with him casually outside of work, when neither of you had to keep up the soccer talk. Soon thing’s progressed far past flirting, and one thing led after another. Soon you were regularly sprawled in various places around his office, whenever there was the chance of no one bothering you for a while. 

Oliver was particularly addicted to catching you off guard and making you come in the most unexpected places. While most of your meetings happened in his office, sometimes he’d find you in an empty hallway, or alone in the staff bathroom. The Blue Lock facility was ginormous, so very rarely were there other people in all corners of the building. 

Today, however, you had made it quite clear to him that you couldn’t fool around at all. A match was soon to start, and his public image was of the utmost importance. That meant you actually had to make it on time to the interviews and photo-shoots this week, otherwise he’d lose out on potential sponsorships in the future (Which would make the JFN really annoyed at him, and by proxy you.) 

“Did you go over your lines like I asked, Oliver?” You glance back at him as you both crowd into the small elevator. The interview was thankfully being held at the Blue Lock facility, so there was no need to commute anywhere. 

Oliver yawned as he leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “Yeah, yeah. I stayed up all night and everything.” He said, tiredly. “Do we really have to do all of these interviews? They ask the same questions every time…” 

You smile, “Well starting today we’re going to work on how the public perceives you. Right now they ask the same things over and over because they don’t know you that well…” You said. “But if you follow my directions perfectly, and if we make it on time…then surely this will make people view you differently!” You were confident in the notes you had given him, and Oliver was dutiful enough to study over them. He’s got a good memory, surely he won’t forget what to say…You think, but a small hint of doubt still gnaws at you, which says something could go terribly wrong any moment.

As the elevator rumbled downward, you noticed it’d been taking its sweet time to get to the bottom floor. Normally you’d have made it by now, and would already be herding Oliver towards the board meeting room where the interviews for the Blue Lockers were normally held. And then, all at once it stopped completely. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you waited for the doors to open, but to no avail. The dial up above which showed what floor you were on blinked in between 2 and 3. 

“Oops…looks like we’re stuck.” Oliver smirked. “Man, ain’t that just our luck. I hope the interviewers won’t be disappointed.” 

You groan inwardly as you press the button again, but still nothing happens. With a sigh, you resign yourself to calling for help on the intercom. However, the news from the front desk who are going to help is no better. 

“Sorry Miss Y/N, but it looks like the repair crew won’t be able to arrive for uh…another 30 minutes.” The receptionist’s kind voice spoke from the intercom's speaker. 

“30 minutes?!” You let your head rest on the doors of the elevator. “We’re definitely going to be late…again!” 

“I’ll let the interviewers know about your predicament Ms. Y/N, don’t worry!” and then the intercom fell silent as the receptionist went off to explain the issue they were having. 

Oliver chuckled and walked up from behind, “Aw, cheer up Y/N, I’m sure the interviewers will understand. Besides, maybe you can work it into this new persona you’re trying to sculpt for me.” He said with a sly smile. “Maybe they’ll like it if I’m a bit of a delinquent.” 

You shook your head, “No, absolutely not! Besides you’re…not good at pretending to be a bad boy. We tried that once, remember? It completely backfired.” Oliver may be a bit of a flirt, but he was too kind to people to be perceived in such a way. “You’re too much of a gentleman. Nobody would buy it.” 

“Oh? Is that how you see me?” Oliver wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on the crook of your shoulder. “Nice to know I’m not hated by my favorite Manager, at least.” 

“I’m your only manager, Oliver.” You stifle a laugh as you try to push his head away from kissing your cheek. “And knock it off, would you? An elevator is the last place I want to be caught.” And I can’t imagine that’d fly over well with anyone at the JFN. 

Oliver persisted, however, and hugged you closer to his body as he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. “We have some time to kill, help’s not coming for another half hour or so…” He says as he lazily sucks into a spot on your neck. You feel his hand drag along your body upward to your collar where you’d buttoned your shirt, and your breath caught in your throat as he pulled on the first one with his fingers. 

You shook your head again, “No, no we shouldn’t! I mean, what if the repair crew comes earlier than expected?” You asked, and Oliver chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be really quick.” He said, leaving another mark on your neck. You silently debated on it for a short moment, before giving in. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Your legs trembled slightly as you braced your back against the elevator wall, your hand curled into a fist against the cool metal. Your attention was purely on the man below you, however, as Oliver knelt on the floor and hitched your skirt up to reveal your panties. His hands were on your hips so as to steady your shaky legs, and you let out soft weak mewls as he mouthed at your clothed pussy.  

You weakly ground down onto his mouth, “Stop teasing already…” You said in a breathy tone. You let out a soft moan as Oliver chuckled into your mound. 

“So impatient…” Oliver said as he gently pulled the thin strap of your panties to the side, and delved into your folds with his tongue. Your breath quickly became labored while Oliver’s tongue worked its way deep inside of you. You had always loved it when he would go down on you, because Oliver had an unusually long tongue that would twist and lick its way to your core. Oliver had a tendency to smile at you whenever you both caught each other’s eye, which only heightened the pleasure you felt from his mouth. 

Your voice began to break as his tongue ghosted against that special nerve, and you thrusted weakly against his mouth, fucking yourself against his tongue. It was never enough, however, and frustration began to claw at your mind as you tried desperately to come. 

“Please, Oli- I need-” You couldn’t get the words out entirely as your hips worked hard to grind your pussy against his lips. You could feel them quirk into a smirk as he continued to lick up into you, his tongue reaching hard to brush against that special spot each time. He brought his hand down from your hip to the top of your pussy and rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit in slow circles. “Ah!” Your voice became louder than you wanted it to be in this small elevator, and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth. 

You felt tears prick in your eyes as Oliver watched your every move with a satisfied grin on his face. He picked up the pace with his thumb, rapidly rubbing against it now while he pushed his head deeper into your pussy. His tongue reached deeper than it had before this time, and now you could feel it push against that bundle of nerves with each stroke. With a muffled cry against your palm, you came on his tongue, your walls squeezing around it as if it were a real dick. 

Oliver hummed against your pussy again, giving you one last lick against that spot deep inside before he slowly pulled away. He looked very debauched with the remnants of your orgasm still on his lips, and you had the decency to blush a little. As Oliver stood up, he towered over you, and swiftly turned you around so that your palms were braced against the wall. Your legs felt weak, but he supported you with a hand on your waist. 

“Put your legs together, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear, and you complied immediately as you straightened your legs, despite the weak jello feeling in them. You heard the faint rustle of clothes, and then felt something poke at the back of your thighs. Oliver gripped your hips, and dragged you backwards so that his cock could slide easily between your clenched thighs. Your pussy leaked and helped glide his cock along, and you began to feel that familiar heat rush to your clit as his dick brushed against it with each thrust. 

You covered your mouth again as your voice rose higher. Oliver’s own voice became urgent as he thrusted faster and faster, jolting your body forward lightly. The elevator soon filled with the lewd noises coming from between the both of you, and you couldn’t believe how close you were to coming again. Oliver pressed your body up against the wall, and you let your cheek rest against the cool metal as your breasts were squished in a tense press. He thrusted harder and faster between your thighs, and let out a breathy moan as he came profusely, his cum leaking down into your panties. You came with him as his hips stuttered a few more times before stopping. Your moan escaped from between your fingers and you hunched your shoulders, afraid someone outside of the elevator might walk by and hear. 

Oliver rested his head on your shoulder again as he tiredly slumped forward and hugged your body closer to his. 

“Ugh…” You looked down at the mess he had made of your panties, inside and out. “Well, I guess we can clean up later…” You muttered. You had no wipes or tissue with you in your purse, seeing as you hadn’t planned on even doing this. But it seems neither of you were the best at keeping up with plans. 

Oliver hummed against your shoulder contently, “Yeah, clean up later…besides, I wanna see you work all day with my cum in your panties. Think you can control yourself?” he asked with a lecherous smile. You scoffed and playfully pushed his head away from your shoulder as you pulled your panties up. You tried to suppress the shiver that racked along your body as you felt his still warm cum seep along your pussy. 

“You're the one who can’t control himself. You’re just also…very convincing.” You said with a poke to his chest. Oliver laughs, and the two of you are brought out of your moment when a knock resounds on the elevator door. 

“Hello? It’s the repair crew, Miss Y/N. Don’t worry, we’re here to get you out of there!” A gruff voice came from the other side of the doors. 

“See? I told you they’d show up earlier than expected…” you said with crossed arms. 

Oliver kissed your cheek, “And I told you I would be really quick.” he smirked against your face as he kissed your cheek again. 

Just as the repair crew pried the doors open, you had both gotten yourselves presentable. At least he can be punctual about something, you thought as you both walked out of the elevator finally and into the hall. 

[hautevaux]

OOC: Vaux, when it comes to being in the public eye, is all smiles and waves for the cameras, cheeky winks and flirty smiles. He's happy, he acts exactly as the fashion icon he is perceived as, he's relaxed with it all - as if it's perfectly natural.

But inside he absolutely detests it, hates the lack of privacy, finds half of the questions diverted at him to be awful breaches to his personal life, can't stand the constant and unending need to keep up appearances wherever he goes.

And it's why he relies so much on the persona of Vaux that he has built, because without it he wouldn't be able to continue. He puts on that persona the say way one would out on their shoes in the morning before leaving for work.

Sure, he's still fashionable, he still adores his work, he loves the clients he gets and the little bit of limelight that comes from being recognised as so-and-sos stylist at x-gala, or whatever. But ultimately, Vaux hates the fact that he always had to pretend to be exactly what people and the media believe him to be.

The real Vaux, under all the showmanship, is just a guy with a lot of terrible insecurities that I think do gradually get worse over the years because of having to ignore them and parade as something else.

But he carries on in that lonely little bubble of his, just idly hoping that one day maybe someone might notice that his bright and flirty smile isn't genuine, that his eyes look like those of a man haunted by the past... That he might be able to show a little genuine bit of himself to make a connection.

Because, yanno, any potential connection he makes - romantic or platonic - he always ends up afraid of because those people don't know the real Vaux. They fall for the persona, and that alone always ends up making him feel so much worse because it isn't him... And he does strongly believe that the real him just isn't attractive or worthy of that love and adoration in the same way his persona is.

He's lonely. He's isolated. But you wouldn't know it, not from his media coverage or blog, not from his website, not from his catwalks or submissions to fashion week. That's... Just the way it has to be: he sees no light at the end of the tunnel, no better scenario where he can have a happy life and be successful.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I thought Rook's personality is what caused him having not much appeal and on top of that his haircut was just ugly... Idk, if he wasn't so worshipful towards Vil (and anything beautiful for that matter) and so freaking stalk-ish/creepy maybe he would have more appeal and we could look past his haircut... At least this is why I don't like Rook 🥲

[Referencing this post!]

In the original post, I was strictly talking about Rook’s looks contributing to why people don’t like him. Of course his personality is also a large part of why he isn’t super well liked, but again, I purposefully only discussed his looks in that context. His appearance is the first thing fans will see, and it contributes to their perception of him as a “silly” character before he even opens his mouth.

I think having a character that is “obsessed” with another one is… very risky for any writer. There are very real pitfalls associated with these kinds of characters, such as the audience finding them annoying, or the characters being perceived as solely defined by their overattachment to another person. I believe these are big reasons as to why Rook and Sebek are not that popular; there are many that claim that their devotion to Vil and Malleus (respectively) is irritating to read, and that they have nothing else to their personalities other than worshipping the ground their dorm leaders walk on 💦 It's this type of aversion that doesn't make people want to see beyond what Rook and Sebek initially present themselves as (ie hardcore "fanboys"), sometimes even assuming the worst of them due to this limited perception. For example, it's a commonly held sentiment in the fandom that "Vil and Malleus are annoyed by/hate Rook and Sebek" when the lore doesn't really indicate that this is true. At best, Vil and Malleus may be mildly annoyed by things they do or correct their manners when they act out in public--however, this is not equivalent to hate.

Another thing that sometimes gets mentioned (and was brought up in the ask as well) is that Rook has an obsession with "all things beautiful", which... is both true and not true. Rook is fixated on beauty, yes--but he doesn't find interest ONLY in beautiful things. Rather, he is able to see everything as beautiful, even tough situations or things traditionally considered ugly or negative. This is a strength of his that often gets overlooked, either because he isn't taken seriously ("haha funny French man") or because the immediate trait people notice isn't this but instead his habit of stalking. Rook definitely has his own unsavory characteristics (and there are times when his devotion is waaay too much), so I understand why he's considered so off-putting. I was in that camp myself for the first several months playing TWST! However, I do urge you to try and see his positive points as well! You don't have to necessarily like him, but I think it's really important to see both the bad and the good in characters.

[crumbsssscookie]

🩵 here!

Please steal whatever ideas I send in my asks lol it's an honor since most of these are just random things that pop into my head!

Anyways, I was wondering how/if you were going to continue to explore how Logan feels being a woman in her new life? Obviously, she's used to being one of the boys, but does that mentality ever cause her to slip up?

For example:

Would Logan occasionally forget that her body has changed? I mean, on OG Logan posted a lot of shirtless pics or stripped his race suit and fireproofs down in certain Williams videos, so he was comfortable like that. Do you think she'd ever forget and just take off her fireproofs after a session when she's exhausted and feels gross in the Prema drivers room without accounting for the fact that Oscar is right behind her and that she's a girl now? (Poor Oscar would do a very quick turn around and face the door until she realized what'd she'd done, but that'd take a minute imo)

Or during interviews when she's asked about her struggles as a woman in racing or when the press/fans/randoms are misogynistic to her, would she get thrown? Would others, like her PR person or Nico, point out things that Logan hadn't noticed because she's still getting used to perceiving herself as a woman?

Sorry for the deep thought questions! Just really interested in your take on things!

🩵

Omg, that’s a hard hitter if I ever seen one 😅 I've put it all under the cut, because I feel this could double as my dissertation...

To be honest, I hadn’t planned on explicitly exploring Logan’s feeling about being a woman now. At least not consciously. I’m very go with the flow with my writing rather than planning all out down to a T. When I’m brainstorming for ideas, I usually write what feels right and fits for my characterization of Logan in that very moment. But it will be a part of the broader character evolution I have in mind.

Broken down on just the gender aspect of things, right now Logan feels very content with being a woman. In my head there are three distinct Logans. OG Logan, AU Logan and Post-time-travel AU Logan who exists ever since the memories and experiences of the first two were merged in chapter one.

Our Logan, the post-time-travel AU Logan is well aware that she is a woman and doesn’t really mind it. I didn’t exactly write it out, but I imagine in those first few days where she was holed up in her room, unsure how to handle Morgan or her family, she had enough time to mull over her new identity and get acquainted with her new body.

Although she makes up only about one third of Logan’s overall part of herself, AU Logan had a higher impact on how Logan handles herself in the beginning. Because the challenges she faced as a girl in motorsport and her place in it, are the “newest” information. It makes Logan approach her goals for this life consciously and methodically. Up until now, Logan is not one to pull the big spotlight on herself. She is happy with following her plan and is fine with performing well but would do nothing controversial that would pull the focus too much. But over time, as she meets the people she knows from her past life, OG Logan’s characteristics will gradually come forward as well. Like in the scene with Jenson when she acts impulsively because she forgot that he doesn’t know her yet but is desperate to have a similarly tight relationship to him as she had in the original timeline.

So with time, I see Logan forgetting not that her body changed but absolutely the part about how the public’s perception on her body changed. Seeing as this is technically the body of AU Logan, who had insecurities concerning her body like every woman on earth, our Logan would be aware of them too and acknowledge them. But paired with laid back, content with his body view of OG Logan, it makes her feel confident in her body bc it’s not like she can change them. She can only love herself for being who she is.

So yeah, this is just a roundabout way to tell you, that if she can’t be bothered, she’d act first and think later. Her own comfort is in that case more important than adhering to nonsense patriarchal norms. It’s not like she’s naked, she wears a sports bra underneath, and a fresh shirt is quickly on hand. (So unfortunately, no sudden undressing in the boy’s Prema driver’s room but the boys could get the occasional glimpse of sports bra Logan in the hallway before she reached hers.)

Also, she wouldn’t change shirts on air, but the common after race move of pulling up the hem of the fireproofs to “air out” with the abs on full display, Logan would absolutely do as well. (I also see her getting community service at least once for this in F1 because MBS feels uncomfortable with women living their best lives).

Our girl Logan is also an avid surfer and still a Floridian, so bikini pics on Insta would be a regular occurrence. Her PR agent would eat this up too, because it fits Logan’s brand of being the people’s princess of motorsport or F1 in particular.

The two situations Logan would be out of her depth, even though she’s comfortable in her own skin, is one, when the media would really lock onto the supposed “blemishes” in her appearance, and two, when she has to interact with people in a “dressier” environment.

The first situation would probably arise when she has created enough buzz to gather the attention of the non-motorsport outlets. Like she could be ridiculed for her paddock fit in a dodgy fashion magazine or the common weight related articles paired with blurry paparazzi pics. And it would put her in serious distress because why do people care for this shit, why not go and criticize her for her objective race results rather than this subjective bullshit. It would also make her angry and see her snapping at journalists if they dare to ask her something related on media duty. Nico would be the one to point out to her, that although he can understand her frustrations, she can’t behave like this. But rather than make her shut up, he would ask her to tone it down, because it’s better to still show defiance without getting personal.

The second situation would be public events that aren’t racing related bc OG Logan is already one of the drivers that falls into the category that doesn’t really like this whole part that comes with the job. So when Logan now has to wear a dress or being otherwise dolled up would make her even more uncomfortable. I think her mom or Morgan or even Nicole could help her overcome that, reminding her that almost every woman feels that way and that it isn’t something she should feel bad about. In my head, that would also fit in with AU Logan’s part of the characters, since she’s a teenager. Because when I think back to how I was at 18, I hadn’t figured out yet that other girls also felt uncomfortable in those situations, even if they looked like the most confident creatures on earth.

I hope that answers your questions bc they definitely melted my brain 🙈 Not mad though, I simply had to take a few days to mull it over like Logan did when she was brought back in time 😉

[mrs-monaghan]

Hey! Really enjoy your blog.

I don't put a lot of stock into social media interactions as indicators of closeness but then as one of your anons rightly mentioned - the members are also co-workers and public figures who have a responsibility (kind of) to keep up an image of ot7. Given how vocal almost all of them have been about returning as a team in 2025… how does that tie in with the perceived lack of closeness and basic congratulations (on SM) for vmin?

Wouldn't there be some kind of hesitancy from v and Jimin if such a possible lack of closeness existed? Especially since they've been very loud about their friendship/soulmate status and it maybe does hurt on loosing friendships (or maybe not loosing but cooling down of) ..

Also I haven't been here in the fandom for a long time (less than a few months frankly, so maybe my opinions are not that well formed or accurate) but is this lack of closeness something that has been observed by you since some time or is it a new development?

It's a new development for me tbh. For some people they think there has always been something shady going on with Vmin. Like when V said Jimin likes men at a radio station, something that had the potential to go really bad if Jimin hadn't been quick witted with his reply. "I don't like you." But that could be chalked to immaturity and the fact that BTS did not have mouth filters back then. I mean, can u imagine 2023 BTS admitting they watch porn?

Coz I sure can't. The bigger they got the more careful they had to become.

Another example from the past i see people giving is this one. As u can tell from Jimin's face he wasn't expecting that question

I would go as far as to say he was taken aback. As we all know Jimin is sensitive with the weight topic. So some people think V should have known that. But as usual Jimin diverted the situation and the interview continued.

But what if this was just their dynamic back then? Picking on eo? Like when every member was asked who they would introduce their sister to and they all said Jimin except V. And that other time Jimin was asked what he would do if he was king for a day he said he would make V his slave so he could stab him?? 😂😂 I can't remember exactly what he said but it was something along the lines of making V suffer. For soulmates they sure used to fight alot. 😂

I have always found them to be cute and adorable but even as u watch their early content u will notice V treats JK now the way he used to treat Jimin. He used to be all over Jimin, used to tell him I love u all the time, used to always choose Jimin, etc. But Jimin seemed to have put up some boundaries between them in recent years. If this has to do with JK, idk.

Because Jimin is not as touchy feely as he used to be... with all of them not just V. So this skinship part of things could be Jikook related. Yes I know he kissed Jhope on his birthday but I dare u to find JK "jealous" moments when it comes to Jhope. Real ones, not out of context ones. They are close to none. Very, very, few. JK doesn't have an issue with Jihope moments.

While we are on the topic have u guys ever noticed when Jhope hugs Jimin he turns his body so they're not hugging front to front but rather front to side?

So yes... I wonder what's Jikook related and what isn't. 🤔 maybe Hobi knows how JK can get? Idk. Just food for thought.

Anyway, I digress. Back on the Vmin topic. I honestly didn't see it as anything. Not even after Jikookers started having an issue with it. But now it's kind of hard to ignore. He really is doing it on purpose and I can't help but side eye him a little bit. U know?

But like u said, would Jimin want to come back as ot7 if there was animosity between them? I think from the latest ot7 content (Jhope BB) its safe to say there is no animosity.

I'm not sure i answered your question but I'm not the best person to ask this. Because I didn't have an issue with this until I saw he keeps doing the same thing over and over without fail.

But I still maintain my stand that I hold nothing against the man as long as Jikook continue to be okay with him. And that seems to be the case rn. So if Jimin and JK don't have an issue with V, neither do I. Haters will always hate no matter what. But I can and will listen to other Jikookers who have an issue and I do see where they're coming from.

[gogogogolev]

Today marks the 8th anniversary of our blog.

I am sharing a photo by Isabelle Zky from 2023 Grand Prix de France today. It looks like Stephen is spreading his wings to soar off.

Year 8 saw some highs and lows. Stephen started to turn things around and won his first senior international medal. He was well choreographed, well costumed, and even engaged in social media usage related to his skating. He listened to us and spent time at his home club in Toronto. He was able to show some progress, gaining confidence in his abilities with some great skates, including a new personal best short program.

His third withdrawal from Nationals was unfortunate, but it was definitely the right decision. While we wish to see Stephen succeed, it's not at the expense of his health. Every withdrawal of his is heartbreaking but the ones at Nationals just hurt a bit more as he is definitely someone who has the ability to succeed at that stage. Maybe next year is finally his year.

I heard some terrible commentary after Nationals and I believe a few people have forgotten what has been going on with Stephen. The past 5 years have been incredibly tumultuous. Shortly after he moved to the US Stephen got injured. Then he missed an entire season, and when he was starting to come back and won Challenge he had to withdraw from Nationals due to COVID. Then last season happened, and I think that's quite negatively impacted how the public perceives him. He did make changes as a result of that, and he was heading in the right direction, but this injury arose before he could show us the full effects of those changes. All this time he's been growing and is now more than a foot taller than when he began competing in juniors. He's been dealing with a lot of complex problems that are demoralizing. Some would choose to retire yet he's continuing to persevere. I know people have run out of patience, but we need a bit more of it when it comes to Stephen.

These posts are too long every time so let's wrap this up. I had this quote I wanted to share from Vaclav Havel about hope. I know we are all very sad but don't give up hope. If there's anything I've understood in 8 years it's that Stephen's fans are a resilient bunch. Considering his uncommunicative stance with his fans and how his career has progressed I realize we haven't really had a choice. Hang in there.

Thank you to everyone who supports Stephen. Thanks to you all as well for following along with me. Most importantly, thank you to Stephen for doing his best with the limited season he had. He put himself on the SB 75 list so hopefully we'll get to see him on the Grand Prix series next season though I am unsure how many months he will be gone for this time around. Please make a full recovery and come back stronger than ever.

Onward to year 9.

[insurrection-if]

Who are your favorite characters to write?

Oh goodness, when it comes to writing them . . . Aha, that depends on my chosen criteria for favorite! And thank you for such a wonderfully interesting ask! (๑′ᴗ‵๑) I’ll put it under the cut for the sake of scrollers wishing to pass on by!

Imka is the easiest to write. It’s so nice to have an immediate sense of how she might act or what she might say, uncomplicated and oh-so-relatable for me compared to her companions. Everything seems to flow out rather quickly once I’ve worked through her emotions, and that’s a blessing all on its own. Sweet, genuine, and well-intentioned is also a good headspace to enter after all the angst certain others have me muddle through, haha!

Curadora is by far the most sentimental character to write. She was the original protagonist of Insurrection after all, as far back as its earliest conception (which was a far cry from its current state), and any chance I have to dip into elements of her original narrative is an absolute delight since she is so near and dear to my heart. She is also rather easy for me to understand, though her current limbo state between two “different versions” of her—more harshly split into a defined ‘before’ and ‘after’ in the original narrative—makes her a little more unbalanced in her persona, swaying from one end to another during this turbulent time in her life.

Really, I simply love thinking about her, so it makes sense that I love writing for her too, haha! Her rationale for her actions, her conflict between her private and public affairs, and her relationships with others (especially the CARDINALS) which once held much of the dramatic weight in the story . . . She’s been with me for so long, changing in small ways over the years yet still retaining a certain true essence to her core, so writing for her can sometimes feel as natural as breathing!

Fyodor is my absolute favorite to conceptualize and imagine, especially when it comes to his past, but putting him into words is quite a challenge for me. He allows my imagination to run a bit wild, yet it’s his very ‘wild card(?)’ nature that makes me sometimes feel like I’m fighting to catch up to him and wrestling to figure him out in the midst of his internal chaos. (He is much more well-behaved when it comes to courting someone he adores. Take a look at him in his bachelorhood with the kind of friends he had back home. . . He goes off the rails pretty quick, haha!)

His tangled contradictions are a joy to explore, but harder for me to write from a perspective that does not have an omniscience towards what is going on in that head and heart of his (which is where I derive most of my fun with him). I guess I could say he’s a messy sort of fun to write as a way to sum it up!

Mishka, though they will have a slow introduction into the main narrative, is also becoming quite a joy to write as well. They do not willing enter “center stage” often, but when they do—especially by their own will—you can expect something unforgettable to follow. In truth, they are rather predictable for me due to how little they fear any consequence for their actions. Once they have wrested all control, unbound and unburdened by the will of Fyodor . . . Whatever they would think to do, they’ll do it; there is often not a moment of thought for what resistance or fallout they’ll face before they act. Mishka very much has no care for how others may perceive them— unless that person is Fyodor or someone who has romanced Fyodor / a Mockingbird they have developed a romantic longing for. And when you can do what Mishka can do, well, things escalate in pretty quick and unexpected ways!

Overall, this makes writing for Mishka a rather straightforward and liberating affair. They come in, make a mess of everything, declare themself “better than all this”, then go back to sleep for however long they feel like until someone or something needs to be put in its place. Simple, dramatic, bitter, and messy all bundled up into one holier-than-thou renegade. To sum it up in a GIF, Mishka’s antics in a nutshell:

Fyodor is carrying the pizza and Mishka is . . . everything else, haha!

Also, they’re basically a living gold mine for world-shattering truths, and once their trust is earned, they are considerably forthcoming about it all compared to Osvaldo (with more reliable, if semi-cryptic, information on top of that). It’s considerably fun to write from the headspace of their rather informed perspective, and to write their reactions to the theories around + the treatment towards different Gifted due to what they know. Plus, writing their general indiscriminate condensation and disdain for most everything around them is somewhat amusing for me as well, haha! d(･∀･○)