#even the idea that there is no truth is subject to question

[amaliasnap]

I wrote this in early 2020. It turned out that ability to be critical of information was helpful in the long term, and those ppl were already gonna have problems during the pandemic.

"This is going to sound so much more melodramatic than it actually is but I dont have a better way to phrase it. Language be like that:

In my late 30s I came to suspect that my political/philosophical worldview is functioning as a cognito hazard in my former students and as of now I am sitting back and monitoring them as best as I am able to see if they recover. It is merely because of a central epistemological nihilism combined with light statistical analysis but as of now I have more evidence that it is harmful than it is helpful. Consequently I've been circumspect in my discussion of it in recent time. They are already spreading it to their peers. So I am in search for something that will logically refute it and alleviate them of this or for evidence that they can"

(I wrote this to myself, but for anyone looking, epistemological nihilism refers to the fact that truth and knowledge are unverifiable)

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.

[eu-nicola]

best secret

summary: while the Pogues are searching for the gold, you're left behind, trapped with your abusive father. when Rafe discovers what's going on, he steps in to save you. when the Pogues return and discover your relationship with Rafe, tensions boil over

warnings: violence, confrontation

word counter: 4384

author's note: english is not my first language

this is a request from @tracymbcm

The lights of Tannyhill shone brightly in the distance, like a beacon illuminating everything perfectly.

You were in the backyard of Tannyhill, sitting on a stone table that probably cost more than your entire house. The night was warm, but you still felt a slight chill running through your skin. It could be from the air or from the presence of Rafe Cameron, leaning against a column, looking at you with that smile that made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t want to admit.

“If JJ knew about this, he would kill me.” Your voice broke the silence, a mix of nerves and sincerity in your words.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smile widening, but his eyes never left yours.

“If JJ knew about this, he would have been dead for months.” His tone was light, as if he said it in jest, but you knew that look. He wasn’t joking.

You should have laughed, maybe even responded with a scathing comment, but the truth was that the idea of ​​JJ finding out what you were doing terrified you. How could you explain to him that after years of swearing that you hated Rafe Cameron as much as he did, you had ended up here, seeing him in secret?

“Why are you doing this, Rafe?” you asked, abruptly changing the subject. You had thought about that question many times, but you had never dared say it out loud.

Rafe stopped smiling, slowly pushing himself off the column as he made his way towards you. Each step he took seemed to charge the air around you. When he reached your side, he leaned in slightly, just enough for his intense, direct blue eyes to catch yours.

“Because with you I don’t have to pretend.”

The words hit something deep inside you, leaving a crack in your carefully constructed defenses. You looked at him, searching for any trace of lying or manipulation, but all you found was honesty, raw and unvarnished.

“That doesn’t make it any less complicated.” You tried to make your voice sound firm, but there was a slight tremor that betrayed everything.

He tilted his head, his expression softening a little.

“And that’s why you’re still here? Despite everything.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to get away, you always ended up coming back. Something about Rafe dragged you along, like a current you couldn’t avoid.

He moved closer, his hand finding your waist with an ease that made you catch your breath.

“Look at me.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but charged with intensity.

You obeyed, even though every part of you screamed not to. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, seeing parts of you no one else had noticed.

“Do you know what happens to me when you’re not around?” he asked, his tone so serious that you felt a lump forming in your throat. “It’s like everything is… empty again. You make it all make sense.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly the space between you felt nonexistent.

“Rafe…�� you started, but he cut you off, shaking his head as his forehead brushed yours.

“Don’t say you don’t feel it too.”

And you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because you did. You had felt it from the first moment his lips touched yours weeks ago, from the instant he looked at you as if you were more than just a Pogue.

This time, you were the one who closed the distance. The kiss started slow, as if you were both afraid of breaking something fragile, but soon it became more urgent, more desperate. Your hands found his neck as he pulled you closer, as if he feared you might disappear at any moment.

In that instant, everything disappeared: the Pogues, JJ, the Kooks, the consequences you knew would fall upon you. Nothing else mattered. Just Rafe and you.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe leaned against your forehead, his hands still firm on your waist.

“Regretful?” he asked with that lopsided smile that always disarmed you.

“Not yet.” Your voice was more confident than you expected, though deep down you knew that answer could change.

Rafe let out a soft laugh, running a finger through a loose strand of your hair.

“You’re braver than you think, Pogue.”

“And you’re more of an idiot than you let on.”

Rafe was still so close that you could feel the heat of his body as he pulled away slightly, his fingers still absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. His smile grew softer, less teasing, and for a moment it seemed like there was something else on his mind.

“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, his voice low, as if he was afraid to break the moment.

“What kind of idea?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of expectation and excitement.

Rafe stepped back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a mix of anticipation and excitement.

“Tomorrow. You and me. A real date.”

That took you by surprise. Even though you’d been seeing each other on the sly for weeks, the thought of something as formal as a date hadn’t crossed your mind. Was it even possible? Your lips curved into a small smile.

“And how do you propose we do that without JJ or the guys deciding to kill you?”

Rafe shrugged, his expression confident as ever.

“You’re running away. You’ve done it before.”

“Rafe…” you started, even though you already knew you’d end up agreeing.

“Trust me. It’ll be perfect.” His eyes were shining, as if he was already imagining what it would be like. He took another step towards you and placed his hands on your hips, leaning in just enough so that his lips were just a few inches from yours. “Just you and me. No one else.”

You sighed, as if you were considering your options, but in reality your decision was made from the moment you looked into his eyes.

“Okay,” you finally relented, your voice laced with a mix of excitement and resignation.

Rafe’s smile widened.

“Meet me at Figure Eight Harbor, just before sunset. Bring something comfortable.”

“Any other directions, Mr. Cameron?” you asked, arching an eyebrow in a sarcastic tone.

Rafe leaned in and gave you a quick kiss, barely a brush, before pulling away.

“Just don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away toward the house, his steps confident and relaxed. When he turned around for the last time, he gave you a look and a smile that made your stomach turn.

That night, as you made your way back to your house, you couldn’t help but imagine what the date would be like. With Rafe, nothing was ever easy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, how he seemed to want to show you a different world, that made it worth the risk.

The next morning the morning sun streamed through the windows of your room, bathing the walls in a warmth that would normally have comforted you. But this time, you were too excited to pay attention to the small details. Today was the day. A date with Rafe Cameron.

You had woken up early, your heart racing and a smile that seemed impossible to erase. The pogues were away, completely absorbed in their quest for gold. With them gone, sneaking off to meet up with Rafe seemed easier than ever. Without JJ hovering like a hawk and Sarah suspecting a thing, you could finally relax and enjoy some alone time with him without the constant fear of being discovered.

You spent the day getting everything ready. You picked out comfortable clothes, like Rafe had suggested, but also something you knew he would appreciate: a light, simple dress that fell softly over your legs and sandals that would allow you to move around without any problems. You had tied your hair up in a carefree way, leaving a few strands loose to frame your face. You didn’t want to look overdressed, but you also couldn’t help but want to impress him. 

By the time it was time to leave, the plan seemed perfect. You just had to avoid your father, something you usually managed with ease when he was deep in his own problems. With the guys gone and his attention divided between the television and the empty beers piling up on the table, there was no reason for this time to be any different. 

Or so you thought. 

As you walked down the stairs, holding a small bag in your hand, Luke’s raspy voice echoed from the living room. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” “I’m just going for a walk,” he asked, his bloodshot eyes fixed on you.

You froze on the spot, your fingers clenching your bag tightly. You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth, but you hadn’t prepared an excuse either.

“I’m just going for a walk,” you said, trying to sound casual as you avoided his gaze.

Luke stood up from the couch with a jerk, his body swaying slightly, and you realized immediately that he was drunk. Again.

“Going for a walk?” he repeated, his tone full of mockery. “You’re not as smart as you think, kid. Do you really think you can get away without me knowing?”

Your heart began to beat faster. You tried to stay calm, but you knew how these things ended.

“It’s no big deal, Dad. I’m just going for a walk, that’s all.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” His voice rose a pitch, and the thud of a bottle falling to the floor made you take a step back. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. “Why are you all dressed up? Huh? Who are you going to see?”

“No one,” you lied quickly, but your voice shook, and that only seemed to make him angrier.

Luke took a step towards you, and the air in the room became heavy, suffocating.

“You’ve always been a liar, just like your mother.” His words were venom, and the contempt in his voice made you clench your fists at your sides. “What? You think you can just walk away and leave me here like I don’t exist?”

Fear began to creep its way into your chest, but you didn’t let it show on your face. You had learned to hide it well, to survive moments like this.

“I’m not leaving anyone, Dad. I just want to get out for a bit.”

“DON’T MOVE!” he suddenly shouted, slamming the table so hard that the noise echoed throughout the house.

Your body tensed, your feet rooted to the ground. You stared at the door for a moment, calculating if you could escape, but you knew he would reach you before you could even turn the knob.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled as he approached, his steps firm and heavy. “Always doing whatever you want, always thinking you’re better than me.”

Every word out of his mouth was like a blow, but the real blows began soon after. He threw a glass against the wall, just inches from where you stood, and the sound of glass breaking made you instinctively step back.

“Dad, stop.” Your voice was low, but firm, even though inside you were shaking.

“STOP?” He laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re nobody to give me orders!”

You felt a lump in your throat, helplessness mixing with the pain of knowing there was no way to reason with him in this state. All you wanted was to get out of that house, get to the port, and be with Rafe, away from all of this. But with every passing second, it seemed more impossible.

Finally, you took advantage of a moment when he was distracted looking for another bottle to try and move towards the door. But when Luke noticed, his face twisted into a mix of fury and contempt.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled as he blocked your way.

You were trapped. And as time continued to tick, you felt the chance to see Rafe slip through your fingers.

Away from you, as time passed, and there was no sign of you. Rafe first thought maybe you were late, but as the sun began to set completely, worry began to settle in his chest.

“Where are you?” he murmured, looking at his phone. He had texted twenty minutes ago, but you hadn’t responded. You hadn’t read the text either. 

Rafe knew something was wrong. Even though your relationship was a secret, you had never missed a date without notice, and the thought of something stopping you made him more uneasy than he was willing to admit. His jaw tightened as he climbed into his truck. No matter what the reason was, he was going to find you. 

He drove straight to your house, or as he silently called it, “Pougeland.” The Maybank home wasn’t in the best condition, and Rafe hated every second you spent there, especially because of Luke. He had heard enough about the man to know he wasn’t someone to be trusted, and the thought of you being alone with him infuriated him. 

As he approached the entrance, the sound of shouting from inside the house made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t need to confirm who they were; He recognized your voice, full of fear, and Luke's, in an angry and aggressive tone. He quickened his pace towards the door, and just as he was about to enter, he heard the sound of something breaking.

“Dad, stop!” Your voice came through clearly, desperate and scared.

That was enough for Rafe to act. He pushed the door open, the frame creaking from the force, and what he saw filled him with anger. Luke was on top of you, holding your arm as you tried to free yourself. Your face was marked, with the trace of a recent blow, and your eyes reflected both pain and terror.

“Let go of my girlfriend right now, motherfucker!” Rafe roared as he launched himself at Luke without a second thought.

Rafe’s presence startled Luke enough for him to loosen his grip for a moment, and you managed to stagger back to the side. Rafe didn’t give you time to react. He landed a punch straight to the jaw that sent him tumbling backwards, but Luke quickly recovered, attempting to strike back. 

“What the hell are you doing here, brat? It’s none of your business!” Luke shouted, furious as he tried to grab Rafe. 

“It is when you’re hurting her!” Rafe shoved him hard against the wall, his rage igniting like an uncontrollable fire. 

The two men grappled, but Rafe had the upper hand. Though Luke tried to punch him, he was too drunk to be effective. Rafe eventually tackled him to the ground, pinning him down with one knee as he gasped for air. 

“If you touch her again, I’ll kill you,” Rafe snapped in a cold, deadly voice. 

Luke let out a bitter laugh, but didn’t get a chance to respond. Rafe dropped him on the ground, unconscious from one last blow, and turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice much softer now, though his eyes still glittered with fury.

You were shaking, leaning against the wall, tears rolling down your cheeks. You nodded weakly, but Rafe saw clearly that you weren’t okay. Without another word, he picked you up, ignoring your weak protests, and carried you to his truck.

“Rafe, you don’t have to do this…” you murmured, but your voice cracked.

“Yes, I do have to,” he replied, his jaw set as he carefully placed you in the passenger seat.

He drove straight to the hospital, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. When they arrived, Rafe insisted that you be checked out, and while the doctors made sure you had no serious injuries, Sheriff Shoupe arrived to take a report.

At first, you were reluctant to speak, but Rafe stayed by your side, holding your hand as you recounted what had happened. It was difficult, but every time you hesitated, Rafe looked at you with that mix of determination and tenderness that made you feel stronger.

Finally, Shoupe nodded, closing his notebook.

“We’ll do whatever it takes to keep Luke from bothering you again. I’ll send a team to arrest him right now.”

Rafe let out a sigh of relief, though he still seemed tense. He helped you out of the hospital, and when you finally climbed back into his truck, the silence between you was charged but comforting.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you murmured, barely audibly.

He turned his head toward you, his expression softening for the first time all night.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

The days following the incident at your house were a whirlwind. After Rafe’s intervention, you’d spent more time with him than ever before. Though you’d tried to reach out to the guys, you knew they were too busy with their obsession with gold to really pay attention. On the one hand, you felt guilty for keeping secrets from them, but on the other, it hurt that they weren’t there when you needed them most.

Rafe, on the other hand, wouldn’t leave your side. After what had happened with Luke, he’d insisted that you stay at one of the Cameron properties, a place where he knew you’d be safe. Though it was strange to depend on him, you also felt more protected than ever.

When the Pogues finally returned, they were quick to notice your absence. JJ was the first to raise his voice.

“Where’s my sister?” “He asked, his tone tense as he walked down the dock.

Sarah, who had spent the last few weeks feeling guilty for leaving you behind, tried to calm him down.

“Maybe she’s at home, JJ. We can’t assume the worst.”

“Oh no? What if something happened to her while we were away looking for useless treasure?” he snapped, pointing at her.

“Easy there, buddy,” John B chimed in. “Let’s go find her and see what’s going on.”

Without wasting any more time, the Pogues hopped in the Twinkie and headed straight to your house. But when they arrived, they found the front door taped shut and the place completely empty. The sight stunned them.

“What the hell happened here?” Kiara muttered, crossing her arms as she looked at the mess.

JJ, furious, started pounding on the door with his fist.

“This doesn’t make sense!”

Sarah was the first to notice that something was out of place. From her perspective, something about the mess and the police tapes seemed familiar.

“I think this has to do with Luke,” she said quietly, looking around.

“My father?” JJ turned to her. “If that bastard did anything to him, I’ll kill him with my own hands!”

John B tried to calm him down, but it was clear that everyone was just as worried. They didn’t know where you were, and uncertainty was eating away at them.

Hours later, it was Sarah who finally found you. You were with Rafe, on a remote beach, leaning against his chest as he held you protectively. The rest of the guys arrived shortly after, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight.

“What…?” JJ was the first to react, his shocked expression giving way to uncontrollable fury. “What the hell are you doing with him?”

You pulled away from Rafe quickly, but he stayed by your side, his gaze fixed on JJ with a mix of defiance and warning.

“JJ, I can explain,” you said, but your voice was shaking.

“Explain it?” Kiara interjected, her face a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “We’re looking for you everywhere and you just happen to be here, cuddling with him!”

“How could you betray us like that?” JJ snapped, taking a step towards you. “He’s a fucking bully, a psychopath!”

“Stop it!” Rafe raised his voice, and everyone glared at him with hatred. His jaw was set, his eyes shining with suppressed fury. “While you guys were too busy on your fucking treasure hunt, I was here saving your sister from your fucking father!”

The silence that followed was deafening. The Pogues stared at him as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“What?” JJ asked, his tone lower, but still filled with distrust.

“Luke,” you finally said, your voice cracking as you tried to find the words. Luke… he attacked me.

“If I hadn’t gotten there in time,” Rafe continued, his voice sharp. “If I hadn’t been there, your father would have killed her.”

JJ’s expression changed drastically. It went from anger to fear, and then to pain as he processed what Rafe had just said.

“That can’t be true,” he muttered.

“It’s true, JJ,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Rafe saved me.”

The rest of the Pogues fell silent, processing the truth. Kiara looked down, while John B placed a hand on JJ’s shoulder. Sarah, who already suspected as much, simply nodded regretfully.

Rafe looked at you for a moment before turning his attention back to them.

“I don’t care what they think of me,” he said firmly. “But I’m not going to apologize for protecting her.”

The air between you was thick with tension, but this time, it wasn’t hatred that filled the silence. The Pogues didn’t say anything else, but the glances they exchanged confirmed that, as much as they hated to admit it, Rafe was right.

In the days that followed, although no one said anything directly, you could feel their gazes shifting away whenever Rafe accompanied you or when they mentioned something that might have to do with you. There were no more accusations or confrontations, but there was no open acceptance either. It was as if they had decided to ignore the subject entirely, something you were grateful for even though it hurt a little.

Rafe, for his part, remained unwavering. Despite the judgment he knew he was receiving, he never let it push him away from you. If anything, he seemed more determined than ever to prove to you that you could fully trust him.

One afternoon, as you sat on the porch of the house where you were now staying, Rafe drove up in his truck. He got out with a paper bag in his hand and that crooked smile you knew all too well.

“What do you have there?” “You asked, putting aside the book you had been pretending to read.

“Surprise,” he replied, walking over to you with an air of mystery.

Rafe sat down next to you and pulled out two wrapped burgers and a box of fries from the bag.

“I thought you might want something other than canned food,” he joked as he handed you one of the burgers.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a small gesture, but after everything that had happened, it meant a lot.

“You’re a hero,” you said with a smile before taking a bite of the burger.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything but the Pogues or Luke. Rafe seemed determined to keep you away from any topic that might make you uncomfortable, and you appreciated that more than you could put into words.

A few days later, as you walked with Rafe along the beach, you unexpectedly ran into Sarah. She was alone, sitting on the sand with her gaze lost in the horizon. Seeing you, she raised her hand in a shy greeting.

“Hey,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft.

Rafe braced himself beside you, clearly prepared for an argument, but Sarah didn’t seem interested in fighting.

“I just wanted to tell you that…” he paused, looking first at you and then at his brother. “Thank you. For being there for her.”

Rafe looked taken aback for a moment, but then nodded.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied in a neutral tone.

Sarah looked at you, and for the first time in days, you thought there was some warmth in her eyes.

“We… the guys and I… shouldn’t have judged you. It’s just that…” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “We didn’t expect something like this to be happening while we were gone.”

“I understand,” you said, though there was still a small wound in your chest from how you had been treated at first.

“But if you’re happy with him… then it’s okay,” Sarah continued, looking at Rafe with a mix of wariness and resignation. “Just… take care of her, okay?”

Rafe smirked. “I plan to do that.”

After that encounter, things began to change. The Pogues didn’t mention your relationship with Rafe anymore, and while not everyone was completely comfortable with the situation, they realized it wasn’t something they could control.

JJ was still the most distant, though he avoided any sarcastic comments when you were with Rafe. John B and Kiara seemed more neutral, and Sarah, though torn, slowly began to accept that Rafe was an important part of your life now.

Even though you knew there were still tensions with the Pogues and that life on the Outer Banks would always be complicated, at that moment, you felt like everything was where it needed to be. With Rafe by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[no-144444]

Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide!- o.piastri

Day 9 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you and oscar are getting closer, or are you?

part one | part two | part three | part four

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You stepped out onto the asphalt with a smile. Another weekend, another race, another day in your perfect job. Well, maybe not perfect. Oscar Piastri, aka Judgy Mcjudgy Pants was somehow still in the paddock and somehow still getting on your nerves. Anyways, Thursday meant media day, which meant you got onto the track early, usually with some of the F2 or F1 Academy drivers for an early morning cycle. By early, it really meant early. 5am start, and since it was Austin, spectators were already filtering in. Running beside you today was none other than Judgy Mcjudgy Pants himself, Oscar Piastri.

“So JMcJP,” you started as your cycle began. “How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He chuckled at the nickname, then answered with a simple ‘good’. You rolled your eyes. You had never been able to get good answers from him, no matter what. He’d always be too busy giggling like a schoolboy to answer your questions, so you saved the shitty ones for him.

“Descriptive,” you deadpanned. “Now, since we at SkySportF1 are so nice, we decided to bring someone special in to interview you!”

“Not just because you don’t want to do it?” he smirked.

“Everyone welcome Logan Sargeant!” you ignored his snarky comment and turned to Logan, who appeared beside you as you cycled. You handed him over the mic and cue cards and just focused on your ride, off-camera. The track was a little over 5 kilometres, so it wouldn't be a long interview.

“So Oscar,” Logan cleared his throat. “Anyone special in your life at the moment? Other than your debilitating crush on our lovely F1 presenter Y/n Y/l/n?”

Oscar’s face dropped and he stopped cycling. “This isn’t live right?”

“It’s not, don’t worry,” Jordan, your camera operator, explained with an apologetic smile on her face.

“Thank God,” he cheered, relieved. “Logan you asshole!” Oscar pushed into him, with a smile, but pushing all the same.

“What? You need to confess eventually?!” Logan scodlded, somehow staying on his bike.

“Not right now though, I was making good progress!”

“What, you could get through 3 whole words without giggling, or are you up to 4?” Logan mocked.

“I am a grown man-”

“Maybe I’d believe you if you just had the balls to ask her out.”

“You two are so slow, hurry up!” you called from about two hundred metres in front of them. “Alright, next question!” Logan moved on, cycling onwards again. “Who’s your best friend on the track?”

“Well I would say you but you’ve left us for Indycar, so… probably Lando, Alex, or Zhou,” he nodded.

“And why is that?”

“Lando and I are teammates, Alex and you were teammates so I saw you two together a lot, and Zhou and I were in F2 together,” he shrugged.

Logan’s eyes widened at the next question. “Who’s your favourite SkyF1 presenter?”

Oscar sighed, but told the truth anyway. “Y/n, probably.”

“I hope you’re not talking bad about me!” you shouted back at them, even further ahead now.

“Only good things!” Logan shouted back with a smile as Oscar fell deeper into his embarrassment. “Alright Oscar, who would you choose as your date to the prize-giving gala at the end of the year?”

Oscar sighed again, knowing what he was subjecting himself to. “Probably Y/n.”

Logan laughed as Oscar sighed, and an awful idea popped into his head. He turned to the camera with a big smile, and said. “If Oscar wins today we should make Y/n go as your date for the gala.”

Oscar’s face filled with dread but he knew how much Sky liked to torture their hosts, so he knew they’d love the idea. You? Not so much. In a selfish way, he was pretty happy that Logan had said it, because it gave him a chance with you. A whole night with you to himself? Sounded perfect to him. All he had to do was win the race.

“Y/n! We have an idea!” Logan shouted to you. “If Oscar wins today you have to go as his date to the prize-giving ceremony at the end of the year!”

You groaned as you reached the starting/ finish line again. “Do I have to?” you looked to Ted Kravtiz, technically he was your boss. He smirked and nodded, and you started hoping that Oscar wouldn’t win today. “Sounds like a deal,” you said, unenthused.

Logan cheered as Oscar’s sense of dread deepened, and he started to feel bad that they were forcing you to spend time with him. This couldn’t just be about the shoes, right? You had to hate him for another reason. It’s just… you never dropped the facade, in front of him anyway. You were always mildly irritated with him (except when he won his first race), and if you weren’t mildly irritated, you were completely. The cameras cut, Logan started chatting with you as Oscar stood there, catastrophizing even more.

You watched as Oscar essentially left the room, though he was standing right there. You’d never seen him get like that, he was always so calm and so collected, and it was almost worrying to see him be anything else. After a few minutes he left without a word to either of you, and you started fearing the worst. Maybe you’d brought this JMcJP thing too far, maybe he hated you, maybe you should go talk to him.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ After a few interviews, you found yourself walking around the McLaren motorhome trying to find Oscar. Eventually, you found his driver’s room and knocked on the door hesitantly. “Oscar?”

It swung open and you were met with a very confused looking Oscar who pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you two. He put the back of his hand against your forehead, seemingly… checking for a temperature?

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You never call me Oscar.”

You rolled your eyes at his awful excuse for a joke, and sighed. “Y’know I did come in here to apologise, but I don’t think I’m going to do that now-”

You turned for the door but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back. He raised an eyebrow. “What would you be apologising for?”

“Logan this morning, you don’t have to use me as your date for the prize-giving ceremony, use your girlfriend-”

“Don’t have one,” he answered quickly. “And I need to win, right?”

“Right,” you smiled. “But seriously, don’t ever feel pressured to like… do what Ted says. Or be around me, I know we don’t always get along, but it is all in good fun, right?”

He nodded, all too happy that he could finally get through a conversation without giggling. “Right.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you smiled, going for the door handle but once again, he pulled you back.

“You don’t just dislike me because of the shoes, right?” he asked.

You chuckled. “What would you say if I don’t dislike you, but I am still hurt over the shoes?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh good,” he chuckled. “And how can I pay my penance for that?”

You thought about it for a moment, then smirked. “Winning today would be pretty helpful, I wouldn't have to think about a date then.” He smirked and nodded, finally letting go of you and letting you leave the room.

He had to win today. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“And it’s Oscar Piastri who crosses the finish line first, making this his third career win!”

Fuck off. He won. And you weren’t even mad.

Ted looked at you with a smirk. “Not needing a date for the ceremony then?”

“Shut up,” you scolded, playfully hitting him. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[hoodoo12]

Bad Date (1/2)

An oldie but a goodie (I think). Who hasn't been in a situation that you feel trapped in and need an out?

NSFW, Beetlejuice x f!reader

You fiddled with your fork. The droning--the god awful, incessant droning--from the other side of the small table never ceased. The man sitting there, the man who you agreed to go out on this date with, hadn’t stopped talking about himself. The. Entire. Time.

It wasn’t as though he had interesting or fun stories either. He had opinions on everything, no matter the subject, and thought himself an expert of everything too. He worked at a car dealership, for the love of god, and although he bragged about how much money he made and the fancy vehicles he drove, you had a suspicion he was more on the level of a lot attendant instead of a top salesman.

Why did you ever swipe right on his photo?

You slipped your phone into your lap and discreetly checked the time. You’d been at this restaurant for thirty minutes, and although the waiter had taken your orders, you’d only gotten drinks and a basket of bread so far. This was insufferable. How were you going to last through salad and an entree with this guy? You didn’t even want to think about coffee and dessert.

While he continued to prattle on about the border wall or car tires or whatever, your mind drifted.

Beetlejuice had not been happy you’d gone out tonight. He’d expected another lazy evening in, but it wasn’t like the two of you were exclusive or anything! Who knew how many people the ghost had on the side? It wasn’t like you could keep track of him. And whenever you dared try to mention the word ‘boyfriend’ or ‘partner’ or anything of the sort, he stammered and turned a more sickly shade of pale, and found excuses to change the subject. That, or he just left, no matter what the two of you happened to be doing at the moment. Sometimes, for fun, you teased him about it, just to make him squirm.

Tonight you’d give anything for it to be real. Then you’d never be in this mess.

You wondered if typing his name into a text message would summon him.

No harm in trying . . .

With a quick glance up at the guy across the table flapping his lips--oh god, he saw you looking and thought you were encouraging him!--you quickly dropped your gaze to your phone again. Because Beetlejuice wasn’t listed in your phone, you pulled up a cousin’s contact page as a proxy.

Quickly you tapped out, “Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse,” into a new text message.

You hit send. You could explain to your cousin later.

Nothing happened. You gave it a few more minutes while the yammering from your date continued, and still nothing happened.

You decided to try again, with a phonetic spelling this time.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”

You crossed your fingers this time that he’d appear.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Your date continued to be oblivious to the fact you were completely ignoring him.

Nothing.

Then a tiny ‘ping!’ from your phone!

“What the hell? Is this some kind of safe word?” your cousin texted back.

With a wry smile, you thought your cousin had no idea how the answer to her question was the truth. You also hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until you got some kind of response. You let it out in disappointment that it wasn’t Beetlejuice, but used it as an excuse to leave the table.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you blurted, interrupting your date and getting out of your chair before he could respond. You darted away from the table towards the restrooms.

In the restroom, you ignored your phone and stared into the mirror. Someone else was in one of the stalls, but you disregarded that too; you just wanted help!

Watching your lips form the words, you muttered, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”

You closed your eyes at the last syllable. When you opened them, he was standing right behind you, his mouth curled into a snarl and his eyes dark under furrowed brows.

You spun on your heel to him.

Before you could tell him that you needed rescuing, he spit,

“What the hell do you want?”

Startled, you couldn’t answer. Typically he was pleased to hear his name--

“I thought we weren’t seeing each other tonight,” he continued in an angry growl. “You had your date, and I was supposed to sit around, twiddling my thumbs, watching reruns of the shit they show on TV in the Netherworld--it’s all garbage like Manimal and My Mother the Car, nothing even entertaining like the Jerry Springer Show--”

“Beej, you’ve got to help me!” you interrupted. “You’ve got to get me out of this date!”

At least he had the decency to stop talking when you said something, unlike the guy still sitting at the table.

Beetlejuice fixed you with an undeniable “I-told-you-so” expression, but it didn’t soften his anger. “Nope. You got yourself into this, you get yourself out of it.”

That was not the answer that you had expected. Beetlejuice was usually ecstatic to rain chaos down on the living. He usually jumped at the opportunity to harass people. And now, at all times, he’d decided to, to . . . make you pay for one measley mistake?

Tears welled in your eyes. Deep down, you knew you deserved it.

You grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbed your eyes. Okay. He wouldn’t help? Then you’d sit through the rest of this horrible date, pray to god the guy didn’t get handsy or expect anything physical in return for paying, and then you’d take a long hot shower when you got home to try and wash away the memory of this disastrous night.

“Okay, Beej,” you told him quietly. Because tears began forming again, you couldn’t see the expression on his face. You imagined it was triumph. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about tonight.”

With the apology, you reached for his hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and left the restroom. As the door began swinging closed behind you, you heard an old woman’s voice from the stall exclaim,

“I heard a man’s voice! There better not be a man in this ladies room, or I’m speaking to the management--”

The door closed completely, and you never heard a retort from Beetlejuice.

⁂

You made your way back to your table. Your date was there, looking annoyed he’d lost his audience. You sat down again, murmured a quiet lie that your cousin’s dog was sick and she was giving you an update, and your date launched into a diatribe about how veterinarian medicine was a money-grabbing scam.

You went back to fiddling with your fork, feeling miserable. Once or twice you tried to at least look interested in whatever nonsense erupted out of the mouth of the guy sitting opposite of you, but it wasn’t a facade you could maintain.

Luckily, a waiter bumped into your table. It broke your date’s soliloquy, thankfully. Salad plates were dropped in front of the two of you. Your date looked annoyed, but you were just happy to have something else to focus on. You thanked the waiter without looking up.

To keep yourself occupied, you tried to remember and list all the ingredients in a Ceasar salad while you stabbed some with your fork. Now your date was talking about some other fancier restaurant he’d gone to, with grilled romaine lettuce for the salad, and croutons made daily with their own milled flour for the bread, and wild-caught yeast, and, and, and--

Mechanically you chewed. Nothing had flavor.

“--it was nothing like this! These are obviously store-bought croutons!” your date was saying, because he’d suddenly become a celebrity chef along with a veterinarian and car dealer. “Subpar ingredients! I’d hope that they are saving money so the steak I ordered will be higher quality, but I know that won’t be true--what the hell is this?”

You couldn’t even fake enough interest to lift your head.

“What the actual hell?” he exclaimed, then more loudly, he snapped his fingers and called for the waiter. “Hey. Hey! Waiter! Get over here!”

You stabbed another bit of lettuce. As you raised it to your mouth, the waiter got to your table.

“Yes sir? Would you like some freshly cracked black pepper on your salad?”

The waiter’s voice was soft with a bit of a scratch that made it sound like he may have the beginnings of a sore throat. You didn’t look up at him, but from the corner of your eye saw that his trousers were faded black with uneven pinstriping. Wasn’t the rest of the staff in solid black clothing?

“No!” your date admonished rudely. “There is something in my salad and I want to know what it is!”

Curious beside yourself, you looked over the table.

Your date was red-faced and angry, pointing at his plate. You didn’t see anything in it. When he tapped it with his fork, however, some of the lettuce moved on its own.

The waiter reached into the salad with dirty-looking fingernails. In slow motion, everything happened at once: you looked up his arm to Beetlejuice’s face, a decidedly evil grin began to widen his lips, and he plucked a tiny, four inch, black and white sandworm out of your date’s salad to hold it up in front of him.

Time snapped back into proper speed as your date gasped.

Still holding the wriggling, hissing sandworm, Beetlejuice grabbed a chair from another table, swung it around so he could straddle it backwards, and plopped himself down between the two of you. He didn’t say a word to you.

He held the angry sandworm in front of your date’s face.

“This, Matt,” he said, putting an obvious tone of dislike on your date’s name. He grabbed your date by the shoulder to keep him seated, then continued like this was a nature show and he was presenting a fascinating creature. “This is a baby sandworm. Look at the little fellow! See his little stripes and blue lips? That’s because he’s poisonous. He’s warning predators off! But, interesting fact, he’s also venomous. Those teeny tiny fangs’ll inject you with venom and paralyze you so you don’t struggle as he’s swallowing you! Look how mad he is!”

Beetlejuice shoved the sandworm closer to Matt’s face, making him flinch back.

“Oh, he’s so mad you can see his secondary mouth! Usually those don’t appear until they’re older!”

The sandworm writhed and continued to hiss wildly.

“Now. Matt. Listen,” Beetlejuice continued like this was a perfectly normal conversation, even though you could see Matt wanted to bolt. The ghost’s grip was white-knuckled tight on him. “This little guy, yeah. He’d mess you up some. Make you sick if you ate him, or if he got shoved into some bodily orifice. But he probably wouldn’t kill you.”

You imagined you almost saw a look of relief pass over Matt’s face.

“His mother though . . .” Beetlejuice mused thoughtfully. “Sandworms are really protective of their young. This baby gets inside you and his mama is going to come looking for you, and she’s gonna be fifty solid feet long of pissed off.”

The expression of horror on Matt’s face made a small smile crack your lips. Beetlejuice grinned too.

“So Matt, what do you say? You wanna apologize to the lady for being a total d-bag and wasting her evening with your non-stop drivel and an ego that is, to be honest, even impressing me a little bit with its size? Or would you like to see how quickly little Sandy here can wriggle his way into your brain or stomach? He’d fit in an ear, I bet, and if not, definitely down your throat--”

Matt managed to wrench himself away from the grip holding him in his seat. He stood up so fast his chair tipped over as he backed away. That caught the attention of the other patrons, but your date didn’t care. He stumbled through some creative, cussing descriptions of you, Beetlejuice, and the whole situation, his voice growing louder as he continued.

Restaurant staff began converging on the table. You were mortified but felt a little surge of warmth that Beetlejuice hadn’t abandoned you. Beetlejuice’s expression was a mixture of amused and bored. Matt’s voice rose until the ghost stood up abruptly and grabbed him again.

“Apologize,” he ordered, “and don’t even think of contacting her again.”

Being held by what he thought was a deranged man--that observation was surprisingly accurate--with the still hissing sandworm dangerously close to his face, Matt choked out an apology to you. Beetlejuice released him, dusted Matt’s jacket off, and gave him a slight shove.

By then the restaurant’s manager had arrived. Matt, since he wasn’t restrained any longer, continued to swear, trying to describe what just happened to him, talking about the sandworm and being accosted and this establishment going to be shut down--

--he was escorted from the premises.

Before anyone could turn their attention to you and the ghost poorly imitating one of their wait staff, you and Beetlejuice hurried out the door as well.

Outside, you threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you! You don’t know how much it means to me that you did that!”

Beetlejuice pursed his lips like he was a little disgusted with himself for coming to your rescue, but the quick kiss you planted on him erased the expression.

“Are sandworms really protective of their young?” you asked. “Is one really going to come looking for that baby?”

“Hell no!” he scoffed. The tiny sandworm he still pinched between his fingers had calmed down a little. That, or it was tired from all the activity. “They give birth and then its every one of them for themselves! If the babies don’t bury themselves quick enough, the mother eats them! Nasty little buggers.”

“Ugh,” you agreed. “Well, get rid of it, then. And I owe you big time.”

At that, Beetlejuice looked you straight in the eye and leered. “I’m going to keep you to your word on that, baby.”

He offered you an arm, so you hooked your hand through his elbow, and the two of you left for home.

tbc . . .

[sonotpattismith]

Inexperienced yuji and reader working their way up to taking each others v cards 🙏🙏🙏

hold me and explore me. (yuji itadori x reader)

word count: 7.1k warnings: college!au, smut, suggestive content, 18+ other request: okay so ive had this idea for so long- Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, Toge, maki, nobara and reader are all friends. truth or dare game that turns spicy (maybe a reader x yuji or reader x megumi au) and they confess their... spicy preferences and confess their feeling to eachother... ya idk if thats weird but thought id request it if youre open to it. other request: virgin yuji x virgin reader - dating for a long time and slowly trying things out together. a/n: I combined like 3 requests into one because they were similar, and I had a vision. Also, track and field Yuji simply had my heart I apologize 😌

You just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. It was that feeling-- you know-- the one you get when you walk into a highschool cafeteria, or the break room in a brand new job, and everyone seems to be privy to something you have no clue about? They seem to laugh at inside jokes, whisper knowingly about topics it seemed like you were just too stupid to catch onto. And, sure, you could just ask what they were talking about, but that would mean subjecting yourself to the mortifying fate of exposing yourself as a complete and utter loser. That’s what that night felt like. 

When you agreed to an innocent game of truth or dare with a few of your beloved friends, something deep within you sent off warning signals that these kinds of ‘innocent’ games usually end very badly for big, dumb virgins like yourself. You’re not sure what it was that set off the red flags to begin waving in your mind. Maybe it was the bottle (or three) of shochu they brought into the usual hangout. Maybe it was the fact that half of you were already half-way tipsy when the game was suggested. More than likely though, it was the fact that your way-too-hot and way-too-oblivious boyfriend was in company tonight as well.

So, as you sat back on your hands, with everyone’s eyes expectantly on you, even your crossed legs and chunky sweater couldn’t make you feel less exposed. Oh god, you thought you might throw up right there. Should you make up an answer? Which one would make you sound like you knew what you were talking about, without making it sound like you seriously knew what you were talking about? If your prolonged silence wasn’t awkward enough, your burning cheeks surely were doing you in, but, shit-- how else were you supposed to react to that question?

What kind of weird shit are you into in bed?

Maybe you should’ve just said dare and not been such a pussy. Sure, you probably wouldn’t have been subjected to chugging an obscene amount of alcohol despite your already tipsy state, but it's not like your friends would have subjected you to anything too horrible. Whatever it would have been couldn’t have been worse than exposing yourself as an inexperienced loser in front of your boyfriend. 

Speaking of the devil, you felt the unmistakably warm hand of Yuji Itadori himself slide over your fidgeting hand in comfort. He could see it all over you that you were absolutely mortified-- a deer caught in headlights. While he absolutely, so desperately wanted to hear your answer to this question, his instinct to jump in and ease the tension for you outweighed any horn-dog desire flooding his mind. 

“Why do ya’ wanna know, Kugisaki? Tryna get in my girl’s sheets?” 

The drunken group giggled deliriously at his challenging question. All at once, they began talking over each other, hooting and hollering over god knows what. You couldn’t even bring yourself to try to listen as your chest seemed to cave in on itself with a sigh of relief. Hesitantly, you stole a glance to your right at Yuji, who’s warm eyes were already on you. They sparkled with that boyish glint that was so characteristic of him. Placing a hand behind you, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. 

“I still wanna know, by the way.”

The light tone in his voice was enough to tell you that he was just teasing you, but his noticeably more intense gaze, the way it dragged up your frame when he pulled away-- it told you a larger part of him really, really wanted to know. You chuckled nervously, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He turned back to your group of friends with an amused smirk on his face. Thankfully, everyone seemed to have forgotten about the fact that you didn’t finish your turn. You hoped the same of your boyfriend as he walked you back to your dorm room that night.

“If you even attempt to get me up in the morning to go on a run with you, I’ll kick your ass into Mars.” You warned as you rubbed your fingers into your temples that were already buzzing with the beginnings of a migraine. Yuji pouted dramatically as you flopped back onto your bed. Leaning forward, he replaced your hands with his own to give you a light massage. You groaned softly at the feeling, allowing your eyes to shut peacefully. 

“Feels nice, huh?”

You hummed in agreement and leaned into his delicate touch. Too entranced in the sensation of his hands on you, you didn’t notice the way he leaned down, his face just inches from you.  “Nice enough that you’ll answer your truth from earlier?”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped at the sudden proximity. He flashed you a wolfish grin. The coolness of your pillow sheet served as a slight solace for your burning cheeks as you turned your head away from him in embarrassment. An unconvincing scoff fell from your lips. 

“That was a stupid question.” You muttered, trying to stop the pounding in your chest as he moved to make himself comfortable beside you. It was a firm indicator that he was definitely not letting up any time soon. Softly grasping your jaw between his fingers, he moved you to face him again. 

“Not stupid to me.” Yuji pressed, smiling at the way you blushed under his gaze. He ran a finger down the side of your heated cheek. “I wanna know what you like… what turns you on.”

The casual manner in which he spoke about such things only served to further convince you that he had way more experience than you did. What you didn’t know though, was the way his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, and how he waited with bated breath for your answer. Despite his charming confidence and boyish charisma, the only action Yuji Itadori had ever seen was from his own right hand. He knew your relationship would be progressing soon— god, how he wanted it to, but his nerves were eating him up inside at the thought of making a fool of himself in front of you. So, when Nobara presented that question, he thought the gods had smiled upon him, and this could give him a head start to figuring you out before he was a sputtering, moaning mess beside you. 

“C’mon, babe,” he spurred you on with a nervous smile. “I’m your boyfriend… you can tell me.” “I don’t even know how to answer that question, nor am I near drunk enough to be having this conversation right now.” You were shaking your head as if it would rid you of the butterflies taunting you with the way he was drinking you in with that longing gaze of his. “Go on, you’re too drunk to be allowed access to sleepover privileges tonight.” 

“Hey!” His Oscar-worthy pout made another appearance as you tugged on his arms to urge him to get up. It was proven more difficult than you anticipated, what with the pounds of pure muscle that clung to every inch of him. Despite your struggle, he stumbled to his feet along with you. The giddy boy haphazardly fought against you as you pushed him toward the door. The tips of his fingers clung against the door frame as he leaned into you from just outside the door. “Think about it— yeah?”

His light eyes held a sincerity that made you melt, his nose brushing yours as he stared down at you. You felt breathless, watching the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed as he held himself up on the door. Suddenly, one of his hands was coming up to cup your chin. 

“Promise?” 

You could only nod dumbly at him, causing a wide, tipsy smile to break out on his face. Swinging forward, Yuji smacked a fat, sloppy kiss on your lips before balancing himself on his feet once again and shutting your door behind him. 

Despite your insistence on not being woken up the next morning, you still found yourself strolling out to the track with your bag in tow that morning. You had never really been a morning person, or a running person in general. So, when you started dating Yuji, he'd look up at you with those big, sparkly brown eyes and beg you to accompany him in the mornings. After coming to a compromise that you would just sit and watch, his metaphorical tail practically began wagging. Truthfully, the boy didn’t even care if you were running or not. He just wanted you to watch so he could show off a little. That first morning you sat in the grass, watching him intently as he zoomed past you on his fourth lap without so much as breaking a sweat— the way your mouth hung open slightly, impressed eyes following him deftly around the track— it was better than any pre-workout he’d ever lay his hands on. 

It had become a morning routine of yours now to sit out in the grass as the sun was rising to watch him run. You would always bring a book or your laptop with you to make it seem as though you were busy with something. Whatever distraction it was typically ended up abandoned on your lap in favor of the way the muscles in your boyfriend’s back would ripple with every purposeful step he took, and he knew it too. So, you tried to sleep in that morning to nurse the tiny hangover that plagued you, but your body was already up and ready to be entertained at the crack of dawn. 

As you leaned back onto the grass, allowing the barely risen sun to soak through your skin, you thought about what Yuji had requested of you the night prior. It’s not that you didn’t want to explore those things with him, but you couldn’t help but feel like he may look at you differently should your lack of experience come up. You’d had boyfriends in the past, not many, but two or three. They were all high school fads, boys you only ever saw in class or once a week in a bowling alley or movie theater. All that came from those flings were disappointing make out sessions and uncomfortable boob grabbing that were always abruptly halted with a rushed ‘this isn’t gonna work out’ from your frazzled lips. 

When you began college, finding a boyfriend wasn’t exactly a top priority for you, but you certainly felt a bit more confident in your ability to pick them out with your older age. So, when Yuji Itadori stumbled toward your table at the campus cafe, still in his muddied up track uniform and giggly friends pushing him forward, the corny pickup line that fell from his lips actually worked on you. Maybe it was the goofy confidence on his face that appeared as though he really was convinced that it would work. Maybe it was his two friends that stood a few feet behind him observing with mortified expressions that said I can’t believe he just said that. Whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat when you laughed boisterously in his face and, rather than being offended like he probably should have been, he laughed nervously along with you. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, just thinking about how he really didn’t intend that to be funny but whatever works, right?

It had been almost four months since that fated afternoon in the cafe, and the both of you couldn’t have been more happy that that dumbass line accidentally worked on you. But then again, it had been almost four months, and it had just never come up in conversation between you two. You were almost positive that Yuji was being sweet Yuji and didn’t want to rush you, but he could have sworn he was just too much of a dumbass to charm you into allowing him the privilege of sharing such intimacy with you yet.

Maybe it’d be better to just let it play out— let him take over and show you the ropes. Still, you couldn’t help the knawing anxiety in you that told you being a virgin at your grown age was definitely not attractive and would absolutely change things between you two. Groaning in frustration, you flopped back down onto the grass behind you. 

“Sit up, you’ll get ants in your ears.” 

Gasping in horror, you shot up with your hands pressed over your ears. Nobara snickered as she set her bag down to sit beside you. At the sight of the very woman who was to blame for this predicament you’ve been put in, you grumbled. Her glowing face scrunched up in question at your sudden attitude. 

“I am never going to another one of your hangouts if I even smell a drop of alcohol in the vicinity.” You huffed, watching as Yuji circled around in front of you. Without stopping, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks upon seeing that you did come after all. Waving aggressively to you, he continued his run with a bit more of a pep in his step. He had an important audience now, after all. Smiling softly, you waved back at him. 

“What a loser.” The red head feigned a gag, but there was an amusement in her eyes as she watched how eager her best friend was to impress you. Tearing her gaze from the idiot who was currently running at the speed of light in hopes his girlfriend was watching, she tilted her head at you. “And what did I do?”

“You got Yuji all horned up with that question about what I like in bed.” 

“First of all, ew.” She blinked roughly as if trying to rid the image of her horny friend from her mind. “Second of all, what’s the issue? Is he seriously that bad at—”

“I’m a virgin, Kugisaki.” 

She fell silent, blinking rapidly at the girl in front of her, who had grabbed at the redhead’s knees in exasperation. While you partly felt bad for putting Nobara in the awkward position of having to talk about her friend’s sex life in such a way, you couldn’t help it. Even when you were first introduced to her, you were silently thanking the gods that there was a girl you could talk to about these things, given you were a little bit of a loner yourself. 

“You two haven’t…”

You shook your head desperately at her. 

“And now he wants to know what I like in bed, and I don’t know. He’s gonna think I’m a loser, or I’m gonna be horribly disappointing in the sack, and he’s gonna—”

“Why don’t you just tell him all this?” Nobara suggested slowly, watching the way Itadori looked over at them with a fond smile as he passed them up once again. Now, she knew damn well Yuji Itadori was a total virgin with a capital V. She recalls him talking about finally having gotten a blowjob once, but that he was too drunk to remember it but it ‘totally still counted’. She wanted to help ease your nerves about your own inexperience, but she also felt it wasn’t her place to disclose such information to you. 

“Because, he’s probably been with so many girls and knows so much more than me, and I just feel like a loser by comparison. I’m a loser, Kugisaki. A sad, virgin, loser.”

“This dude gets more pathetic the more I get to know him.” She seethed quietly with her pointer finger and thumb pressed against the bridge of her nose. “Listen, trust me, and be honest with him. Itadori seriously likes you, and if he finds out you’re holding out on him cause you’re scared he’ll think you’re a loser, he’s gonna be upset. Like sulking in the corner, growing mushrooms with his own fumes upset.”

“You think so?” You mumbled into your knee, toying with a blade of grass below you. 

“Trust me, that idiot will be so excited to get you under him, he probably won’t even notice if you just rag-dolled it.” 

The mental image made you laugh unabashedly, and Nobara smiled at your easing mood. She playfully elbowed your arm, leaning back on her hands as she regarded you in curiosity.

“And how has no one ever tried to get in your pants before? You got a chastity belt or something?”

Shaking your head, you looked down shyly. “I didn’t say they haven’t tried…”

“I knew it!” Nobara exclaimed as you shushed her desperately, watching from the corner of your eye as Yuji slowed his pace and began heading toward you two. “You were breaking hearts left and right before this loser came along, weren’t you?”

“Shut up!”

As you dragged yourself through your classes that day, you were mentally hyping yourself up to have that conversation with Yuji later. He typically stacked his classes in the mornings so his afternoons would be free for track meet and, of course, you. As you glanced down at the time in the corner of your laptop, your leg bounced anxiously. Would he really take it as well as Nobara made it seem? 

Whenever you wanted more time to think, the stew, to just marinate in your own anxiety, time always seemed to move that much faster. Four o’clock rolled around faster than you had anticipated, and your feet seemed to falter with every step you took toward Yuji’s dorm. With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door with the small key he’d given you a few weeks ago. Upon hearing the sound of the shower still running, your tense shoulders eased up a bit. Dropping your bag down in his desk chair, you flopped back onto his bed. You had a plan, you had your words prepared, you were ready to make this as normal and not awkward as possible. 

As Yuji stepped out of his small, steam filled bathroom though, only clothed in his sweat shorts that barely covered his mid thighs, wet, pink hair clinging to his forehead, your plan suddenly went to shit. He smiled excitedly upon seeing that you were already there, but his pearly whites were the last thing you were focused on right now. Jesus, they don’t make men’s shorts long anymore? His tanned, defined runner’s thighs were practically on full display for you to drink in greedily. 

“Is my dick hanging out or something?” 

You were snapped from your trance by his brash question, looking up to find him staring down at his lower half in question before glancing back up at you curiously. Shaking your head with flushed cheeks and a smile, you laughed at his blunt tone.

“No, just like those shorts on you is all.” 

“Oh, you do?” Yuji looked back down at himself once again with a shy smile before coming to lean over your spot on the edge of his bed. Your breath hitched when his knee came up to sink into the small space between your legs as he climbed over you, grasping the side of your neck in his hand. “I’ll wear them more often then.” 

Without allowing you time to respond, he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You sighed contentedly at the feeling of his warm body hovering over yours. Brining your hands up, you allowed your fingers to graze over the rippling muscles of his thigh, your fingernails unconsciously grazing along the skin. He hummed against you, bringing his other leg up to rest beside you, effectively caging you between him and the bed. 

“Did you—mmph,” The boy could barely tear himself away from you long enough to get his question out. Your free hand came up to run through his wet hair. “Did you think about what I asked you?”

You suddenly remembered why you were here in the first place. 

“About that—” But he was everywhere, his lips moving to sloppily cover your cheeks in soft kisses, grasping your waist in his free hand. It began to creep up your shirt, until you felt the tips of his fingers graze the hem of your bra. You gasped and reached out to grasp his wrist. “Yuji, I wanted to— hah— t-talk to you about something.”

“‘M listening, babe.” 

Somehow, with the way he had his pink head buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing and suckling the sensitive skin there, you highly doubted that. Still, he squeezed gently at your ribs in encouragement. His hand strained against your grip on his wrist as if aching to continue his exploration of your chest. You swallowed anxiously, the fingers that were woven in his drying hair tightened. Once that small moan escaped his lips, you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Yuji, I’m a virgin.” 

You felt his lips abruptly halt against you, and his hand stopped trying to fight against yours. Squeezing your eyes shut,  you cringed at the crushing silence. Suddenly, you were just desperate to fill it and break the sudden tension. 

“I should’ve told you earlier, but I was just kind of embarrassed, and I didn’t want you to think I was a loser or pathetic or something. I completely short-circuited when Nobara asked me about what I liked cause I just don’t—”

“Oh my god— thank god!”

Your rambling was cut short by his sudden, ecstatic proclamation. He sat up abruptly, pulling you into his lap as he moved to sit over the side of the bed. His hands came up to grip your cheeks in disbelief.

“I thought you were gonna expect me to be able to lay down some master pipe or something, oh my god— I can’t breathe.”

“Yuji!” Your bubbling laugh filled your chest, dispelling all previous anxiety quicker than you could have anticipated. For just a moment, you allowed his words to sink in in disbelief. “Are you saying—”

He cut you off with a small nod, his cheekbones flushing pink. With a timid smile, he ran his hands down your shoulders and arms to grasp your waist.

“Even if I wasn’t— I don’t care if the whole damn university has run through me— I could never think you were a loser. Not a bigger loser than me, anyway.”

As if the warmth in your chest couldn’t spread anymore, his sweet words only made that heat travel down south. Maybe it was his unwavering compassion, or maybe it was just that you could finally rest easy knowing you two were on even playing fields. Whatever it was, it had you crashing forward to meet his awaiting lips once again. 

There was a newfound eagerness in your desperate kisses now. Something had shifted between you two, and it seemed as though a whole new area of one another was just unlocked. Your bodies were timid, unexplored— drawn toward the other. Though neither of you would likely admit it, it excited you both that each of you would be the first to experience one another in such a way. 

“We can take it easy now, yeah?” He offered breathlessly between bruising kisses. The hands that were wrapped around his shoulders snaked down to explore the muscles that rippled underneath them. His back arched ever so slightly, mouth falling open in response to your soft caressing. “Take— ahh— our time.” 

You hummed in agreement, but neither of you seemed too eager to ease up on your desperate pursuit. Yuji dipped his head down to press sloppy kisses over your collarbones. He almost ripped the neckline of your shirt in an attempt to gain more access. 

“Exactly.” you whispered, already out of breath from the anticipation rising in you. Your head fell to the side to encourage his continued attack on your neck. Despite your agreement, you didn’t stop him when his hands sneaked under your top and threw it over your head. 

“Oh, fuck.” Yuji groaned without an ounce of shame as he stared down at your bra-clad chest. He was eternally grateful that you had something on under there, because he was convinced he would have busted right in his shorts if he saw your bare tits with no preparation right now. Your cheeks burned under his intense gaze, and you instinctively moved to cross your arms over your chest. At once, his hands came up to cage your elbows at your sides, dipping down to press kisses to the plush pillows. A soft moan of surprise escaped you. Your boyfriend’s head perked up at the sound, and he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You like that?”

Tongue tied, you could only nod wordlessly. Releasing his grip on one of your arms, his fingers set ablaze each inch of skin they traversed on their way up to cup your jaw affectionately. 

“What else do you like, angel?” 

It came out of you like word-vomit, all previous notions of apprehension and timidness lost on you under his fiery gaze. His brown eyes shone in a way that you swear you’d kill a man for should Yuji ask while batting those fluttery eyelashes at you. 

“I like the way you hold me like that—” You babbled mindlessly, breasts arching into his chest. The boy thought his brain was going to fry right then and there, watching the way you were falling apart on his lap. “And I like the way your thighs look in those shorts—”

“Yeah?” 

You would have kept going had it not been for his eager interruption, and you were partly grateful for it as you were positive you would have embarrassed yourself. Once again, you only nodded. He shifted under you, maneuvering you slowly to sit against his left thigh, a hand hesitantly coming up to press against your back. In an instant, you felt the taut muscles of his thighs flex beneath the thin fabric of your shorts. You gasped at the feeling, hands flying up to grasp his shoulders. 

“Is- Is this okay?” Yuji questioned, uncertainty breaking through his voice that had suddenly lowered darkly with the lust that flooded him. Too flustered to even form a coherent answer, you leaned forward to kiss him once again. Moaning softly against you, the hand he had pressed against your back pulled you forward, encouraging you to grind against his tense muscle. A string of desperate whines slipped past your lips as he moved you against him. 

Your boyfriend continued to push and pull at your waist until you found a rhythm of your own. Abandoning your supple skin, he reached down to palm himself through his shorts. The strain against the fabric was almost unbearable at this point, and your desperate little ruts against him were only spurring him on. Leaning back on his free hand, he watched you work yourself against him as he stroked his covered length. 

You looked down at how his bicep flexed with each stroke. Reaching forward in a haze, you slipped your hand under his. A gasp choked its way up Yuji’s throat at the feeling of your comparably smaller hands clutching at him. You mimicked his movements with fervor, the heat in your core burning as you watched him throw his head back with a groan.

“Does that feel good?” You questioned hesitantly, breath picking up a bit as you felt the wet patch that began to form over the fabric of his shorts.

“Yes!” He gasped eagerly, grabbing your wrist to speed up your movements a bit. “Oh fuck.” 

Your wide eyes stared at him in awe. His bare, muscled chest heaved before you. An inescapable urge had you leaning forward to bite into the firm flesh, a motion that had him jerking up into your hand. Noted.

“Babe, hold on. I’m—” he choked up when you began softly laying open mouthed kisses on the area you’d attacked with your canines. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. You looked down at where your hand was languidly stroking up and down his twitching member, noticing with parted lips how his pink tip was now poking out from his waistband. It glistened as the sun shining through the window hit its dripping surface. Without much thought to it, your thumb reached up to swipe at the weeping slit. 

“Fuck, oh my god—” This time, he cut himself off with his own strangled moan. His fingers pressed into your hips and wrist with a bruising pressure, as if you might disappear mid-high and leave him gasping and crying to be graced by your touch again. His chest and neck flushed red as you felt his release spill over your hands and coat his abs that flexed in tandem with his unconscious thrusts. 

You suddenly wished you had left your phone in your pocket instead of your bag so you could snap a picture of the way he looked at the moment. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, and he looked back down at you in a panic, cheeks ablaze. 

“Shit— I’m so sorry!” Yuji began babbling mindlessly, staring anxiously down at the mess he’d made of himself and your hand. Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough term. “You didn’t even finish— fuck, this is—”

“Yuji, it’s okay—”

“No, I just came in my fucking shorts. I  wanted to…” his words drifted, and he held your cheek with his clean hand. “I wanted to have sex with you.” 

A warm smile settled over your lips. Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his palm. “We can take our time, remember?”

He huffed quietly, looking up apprehensively at you from his lashes. The boy’s blown out, brown eyes took in the sight of your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, the way your breasts were rising and falling deeply against your chest. A mischievous smile fell over his once embarrassed face. 

That’s how you found yourself on your back and on the edge of his creaking bed, legs swung over his shoulders and thighs pressed against his ears as he tried his hand— well his tongue— at a new skill. Your brows furrowed in concentration, trying to determine if it felt good or just kind of awkward. A small hum left you as you squirmed against him at the foreign sensation. Suddenly, his pink head was poking up from its spot between your legs to look up at you with those ‘Yuji-Special’ puppy dog eyes. 

“I suck, don’t I?” 

You quickly sat up on your elbows to meet his frantic gaze. His cheeks were burning red, chin covered in slick. 

“No!” You insisted, but he wasn’t convinced, dropping his head against your stomach in agony. “Yuji, just… try again. I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”

Rolling his shoulders back with determination, he went back in. He licked a long, hesitant stripe up your folds. As the tip of his tongue grazed your sensitive bud, you gasped quietly. Still, it was enough to have Yuji’s head perking up like a dog who just heard the rattle of his food bowl. 

“Right there?” He questioned, his word mumbled with his tongue still pressed flat against you. 

“Y-Yeah--”

Your instruction was cut off with another eager, rough swipe of his tongue against that golden spot he’d found. On instinct, your thighs clamped down against his head as a moan ripped through you. Against you, your boyfriend let out a moan of his own, responding to both the feeling of your warm, plush inner thighs pressing against his cheeks and the sound of your saccharine moan-- one that was solely his doing. It was a dopamine rush similar to that of which he felt on the field when you would watch him oh so encouragingly. It spread through his veins like a fire-- that burning desire for him to just impress his girl. 

Like a man starved, Yuji’s tongue attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves with fervor, drool and slick dripping down his chin. You squealed at the sudden change of pace, the pressure of the foreign sensation weighing down on your chest as you writhed underneath him. It was too much- the direct, rough friction lapping so desperately against you that it was almost uncomfortable. 

“Slow down!” You gasped out, your arms supporting you as you reeled away from his tongue’s attack. The muscle’s in his shoulders flexed as they wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place. He peered up at you with stars in his wonton eyes, wondering what the hell he could possibly be doing wrong now. “It’s too much, just-- like you’re kissing me, Yuji. S-Slow..” You could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your own instructions, but the look in his eyes as the top half of his face stared determinedly up at you told you he was taking mental notes.

Humming firmly, his eyes slowly fluttered shut again, and he retracted his tongue from your core to replace it with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. You sighed contentedly at the feeling, your hand drifting down to thread through his hair. It felt as though he finally understood, and Yuji knew he couldn’t just chase your high without pace, without care. His movements were slow and deliberate now, allowing himself to enjoy it as well instead of being so concerned with pushing you over the edge so quickly. 

Your jaw fell slackly open as he slowly reintroduced his tongue into the rauchy kisses he was working against you. The curve of his smile could be felt from your fold as he sensed the trembling of your legs against him. 

“Like that, Yuji--” You whined softly, grasping at the roots of his hair to pull his face closer to you. It felt like he was molding to your core, becoming one with you. A tear fell down the side of your face at the intense intimacy of it all, and you were glad he was too occupied to notice. Gently swiping his tongue up from the entrance of your weeping chasm to the hood of your clit as his lips wetly circled the area, you noted that he really was acting as though he was simply making out with a different part of you. “Oh my god!”

You couldn’t see it, too lost in your own pool of pleasure to pay it any mind, but his eyes rolled back at the sound of your breathless whines. When your hips slowly began rocking against his face, he thought he may as well have died right there on the floor of his dingy dorm room. 

“Is it good?” He mumbled against you, never once stopping his ministrations on your clit. It was a dumb question-- the boy knew it was good-- what with the way your grip was practically yanking the hair out of his scalp, pushing his face further into you until he was sure he would pass out from lack of oxygen (not that he would mind going out that way). Still, Yuji was desperate to hear you say it, to tell him how good of a job he was doing at pleasuring his girlfriend. 

“So good--” You gasped, feeling the tingling in your toes, reaching up your legs and into your core. Your rocking against his face was desperate now, chasing your impending high with a fervor that would have embarrassed you had you even felt remotely conscious enough to notice. Your eager boyfriend was drinking it all in though, fingers coming up to grip at your hips and aid your frenzied thrusts on his face. You were making an absolute mess of his face, but you didn’t care, and lord knows he didn’t either. “You’re so good, Yuji!”

A forlorn whine ripped from his throat at your praise, and the vibrations it sent through your bundled nerves caused the dam to snap within you. Sitting up in a desolate haze, the fingers that had graced the top of his head came down the back of it, gripping the nape of his neck to hold him against you as you cried out his name once again. The heels of your feet dug into his back as you trembled through your high. His soaked lips continued to hungrily lap you up until you were crying out in sensitivity, clamping your thighs closed to stop him. 

You were heaving out breaths, hunching over as your nails began softly scraping at the nape of his neck. Yuji’s face slowly came up from its place between your thighs-- a place he noted it should have been all along. Still on his knees, he stared up at you in a drunken daze, the lower half of his face glistening with evidence of your release. His pink hair stood up and stuck out in all directions as he panted up at you.

“Did I do good?”

That mental image was seared into the back of your mind as you tried to go one about the rest of your week. Each time that image flashed in your mind of your big, muscly boyfriend on his knees for you, eyes just pleading to be praised, your thighs would press together almost on instinct. It was that much more difficult to concentrate on any of your classes. You couldn’t confirm if you two’s impromptu intimacy was the reason for the sudden change in Yuji’s behavior, but you had a feeling. While he’d always been a bit clingy, he was now all over you; wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his side each time you two met up with friends or on campus, dragging your chair closer to his by the foot wherever you went, stopping to plant a kiss on you each time he passed you on his runs. It was evident to everyone around you that something had changed between you two— what with the sudden clinginess and blushing looks from across the room. 

As much as the both of you wanted, you didn’t have much of a chance to get eachother alone again though. Yuji’s track team had their annual relay race just around the corner, so he was caught up in practice and meets most of his free time. Still, it was the first big race that you would be attending of his, so you were excited despite the fact that it was taking up most of his time. It was a bit cool outside that morning, so you were bundled up in one of your boyfriend’s university sweatshirts as you made your way out to the crowded field. You could barely hear over the combined chatter of both your university and the competing school’s crowd. Looking around, slightly overwhelmed with the amount of hustle and bustle surrounding you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when hands bared down on your shoulders. 

“Where were you! Yuta and Maki have been looking for you.” You relaxed upon hearing the familiar voice of your boyfriend over the crowd. Sighing in relief, you turned around to grasp onto his bicep as if the crowd might scoop you away. He was already beaming down at you, his sweat band pushing his hair away from his forehead. The tip of his nose and the tops of his cheekbones tinted pink with the cold air that nipped at his skin. 

“Take me to them! I am so lost.” You pleaded as you dramatically batted your lashes up at him. An easy smile spread across his lips as he wrapped an arm around your neck to guide you through the crowd. “And shouldn’t you be getting ready with the team right now?” 

 “Had to make sure my girl had a good view first.” Yuji winked down at you upon seeing the bashful tint that spread on your cheeks. He turned you to face him as the two of you came up upon the stands, pointing up to where your friends were standing and waving you over. “Wait!”

You whipped your head back upon hearing him calling out to you from below.

“I don’t get a good luck kiss? No pep talk?” 

“I didn’t wanna hold you up.” You laughed, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips from his spot on the ground. He grasped onto your chin to deepen it for a moment before reluctantly letting you go. Slightly breathless, you continued, “Right, pep talk. What do you want if you place, hm? Human Earthworm marathon? Revolving sushi?”

“Just you.” 

His sincere words and intense gaze made you falter, remembering the way he looked between your thighs just days ago. Fingers tightening around his shoulders, your eyes ran down his face wantonly. 

“Just me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” Yuji hummed, brown eyes soaking in the sight of you in his sweater, standing in the bleachers to cheer him on. “Nothing’ll motivate me more.”

“Better get to steppin’ then, Itadori.” 

Yuji was sprinting like a bat out of hell. As he gained on Megumi, you could see him holler at him with his palm outstretched for the baton. His fingers curled around the wooden rod, and he was off. You could swear you saw his teammate’s raven hair fly back from the dust being kicked up by the boy already light years ahead of him. 

“Jesus, what crawled up his ass?” Maki remarked in astonishment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his feet weren’t even touching the ground. He moved so fluidly, so swiftly, as though he was simply floating across the track. The other runners, you noted, had stern expressions of determination on their faces as they paced themselves through their legs. Your boyfriend though, as you watched him drift across the field, was lit up with pure thrill. It had an ecstatic smile spreading across your own cheeks. Standing up from your seat, you cupped your hands around your mouth to cheer him on. You almost wished you could feel some sort of push and pull, some kind of apprehension about whether or not he would make it, but the truth was, Itadori had already left all the other anchors in the dust. So, really, it was more of a formality when he hopped across the finish line, and the coach ripped the tag off his uniform to declare his team’s time.       

Both Yuta and Maki flew up from their seats to clap, but their cheers were drowned out by those of the hollering crowd surrounding you. Your friends’ arms came around you in glee, but your gaze was still focused on Yuji, who’s team was now having their own celebratory rituals. Over the heads and shoulders of his bustling team, his gaze still found yours in the crowd. He raised the wooden baton to point it toward you, and with a wolfish grin, sent a wink your way as if to say this one was for you. 

 Lord help you when that boy got his hands on you.

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[nocturnowlette]

After a long time exploring hypnosis and wondering about its mechanics and functions and digging into everything I could, I have come to somewhat of a complete answer to the question of...

"What is hypnosis?"

I went through a lot of different answers over time, specifically attempting to peel back layers of arbitrariness to how we define hypnosis, and through learning how it works and talking with many other hypnotists and subjects about their views, the conclusion I've come to is simple: Hypnosis is not a state or a unique nonstate interaction. Hypnosis, and specifically hypnosis, does not actually exist.

The things that construct hypnosis do exist. In my opinion, those things are: focus, suggestibility, dissociation, and compartmentalization.

Focus in this analysis is defined as the threshold that defines what of the information we take in at all times is given attention. It is a filter limited in size that optimizes what our minds need to be aware of. It is specifically and deeply important to note that focus is limited.

Our entire sense of reality is always constructed out of a limited amount of stimuli, and so, small things, depending on how intense of focus is, can construct a significant portion of what our mind is taking in. To borrow the example of Plato's Allegory of the Cave, the people who from birth have only been able to witness silhouettes casting on to cave walls, that amount of stimuli is what composes their entire construct of what reality is. If, one day, the lights went out, it would be tantamount to an apocalypse.

In the act we call Hypnosis, the hypnotist attempts to consume as much of one's focus as possible as to project their ideas as largely as possible in the minds of their subjects.

Suggestibility in this analysis is defined as the simple and almost boring to describe function of the mind responding to new stimuli. If you respond to any new amount of information to enter your mind from reading a new word to feeling temperature to having your heart broken after a breakup. It might seem redundant to cast such a wide net for suggestibility, but if you remove all arbitrary restrictions, this is truly what suggestibility is.

Our minds have no connection to some absolute truth. To our minds, all information taken in is, at first, equally real to us. We need to create the understanding that some stimuli is fake and some is real, and that step comes after the initial absorption of information. Even the concept of fake and real need to be learned.

Our minds react strongly to purely hypothetical information all of the time. Anxiety, depression, worrying about future tests or the next job evaluation. If our mind believes with all of its heart that a bear is standing right behind us, our body will jump into fight or flight. The "actual reality" of the situation is irrelevant to the brain because it's not something the brain could ever connect with. Our minds, by design, extrapolate on limited information. We are designed to be suggested. Hypnotists simply exploit this necessary aspect of the mind.

Dissociation in this analysis is defined as any function of the mind that separates its awareness or means of processing information from its current, immediate environment. The actual traditional definition of dissociation obviously applies, but so does "meditation" and "immersion" and "highway hypnosis" and "flow states". The mind is always somewhat dissociated, just like it is always in a state of uneven focus and always suggestible.

If it separates you from the current, tangible, "real" moment and places you within a state of heightened focus on hypothetical or fake information, it is some function of dissociation.

This can be assisted by cutting off things like eyesight or fixating it on one point so that new information stops being taken in. This is also what leads to easier thinking while doing familiar tasks like chores or showering. The stimuli around you is so familiar that the mind has nothing to process, leading to an increase in internal thinking. Look into the default mode network if you're curious about learning more.

Compartmentalization in this analysis is defined as the process of drawing a conceptual outline around something in order to make it one defined thing. The field of analysis surrounding this is called Ontology, the study of what makes a thing a thing. In our minds, this is the process of building blocks of knowledge.

You can learn specific concepts like "chairs" or "self" or "red" and then build associations between those things, creating cities of knowledge where each thing connects to another in order to inform our perception and processing of everything we ever take in.

Compartmentalization is the thing that makes learning possible, and we exist constantly within perceptive structures that turn the chaotic series of stimuli we're always absorbing into a thing that makes sense. It is also the thing that makes triggers possible, it's what conditioning functions with.

We, as hypnotists, literally teach the concept of the trigger and build its associations so that the memory can then later be referenced.

When these interact, we have a dissociated subject (making them more able to accept hypothetical information and suspend their disbelief) whose focus has been drawn in strongly (thus making the information taken in construct a much larger piece of their reality), in order to suggest ideas to the mind that it partially takes as fact despite the hypothetical nature in order to compartmentalize and condition specific desired responses within the subject.

One could then say that hypnosis is this interaction. However, when considering such a thing, holes begin to form in that idea. The strongest case against it is actually quite simple and quite immutable: these four things already interact with eachother all of the time. In fact, they're designed to, it is the entire point of each function to do so. It would be defining hypnosis as the process of percieving.

You could then say that it is the faulty interaction of these four things. Hypnosis would then still apply to phantom pains and psyching yourself up and going to therapy. Hypothetical and often wrong feelings and ideas self-suggest us an uncountable amount of times per day.

What if, then, it was the intentional exploitation of these four elements? Well beyond the fact that almost nobody who does hypnosis knows about these things and that it can be done without knowing anything about hypnosis, it would again be defined as psyching someone else up or lying to someone or reading a book made by anyone that is not yourself.

This is all to say that nothing about hypnosis is unique at all. Every function and idea that could be applied to hypnosis could be applied to a wider function or idea, and so every attempt to define hypnosis begins creating arbitrary distinctions, ones that just nervously ignore every blurry line.

Once every possibility is whittled down, the only remaining one is that hypnosis is the act of participating in hypnosis.

While hypnosis is not a state, it is compartmentalized as one. It is the concept of a state of mind in which you can be suggested and controlled. It is the concept of a state of a heightened version of each of these four elements, and the compartmentalization of it as a state is the thing that gives hypnosis power.

It is a natural consequence of the mind's awareness of itself and its own manner of perception, a cognitohazard that is self-referential and self-reinforcing, using the real functions that our minds use to imagine a specific and distinct thing that occurs when they combine and the powers that are possible once that concept occurs.

Hypnosis itself is a conditioned concept.

Experienced subjects drop into trance easier not because they've being "conditioned better to hypnosis", it's because new subjects literally do not know or understand what it is. Experienced subjects draw on memory to fall into hypnosis, they are referencing the concept in their mind and emulating what it is that they believe it to be.

The concept of hypnosis is triggered by ideas that make the subject remember hypnosis.

This also means that hypnosis is different for every single person that is made aware of it. They all share similarities, but it makes it that so long as that something is rested in perception, the subject can be manipulated in almost any way so long as they believe with all of their mind that they can be affected that way.

If a subject believes they can lose full control of themselves, it will happen.

This makes it so that first impressions can matter a lot, that trauma and fears and anxieties can entirely change of how conditions and processes hypnosis, and that the concept can be changed and reconditioned over time, meaning nobody is hopeless.

To conclude, hypnosis is an imaginary but inevitable idea that uses each function that is associated with it to create itself and reinforce itself, and its existence as a state or process/interaction and defined concept in the mind that legitimizes it and allows us to detach ourselves from our own control.

It is not a state, but a concept of a state or process, and a concept that can be spread and taught and reinforced collectively through the idea of it existing.

This is, after a very long time of searching, what feels to be a satisfying relatively unified theory of hypnosis for me, and has tied off the majority of loose ends I had for it.

As a last note, don't take "imaginary" as a means to believe that it is weak or fragile. While it in itself does not exist in the way most things do, as spoken about before, "imaginary" can be as real to us as "real". Our minds don't necessarily know the difference.

Even further, this should be deeply freeing to know. Hypnosis can be whatever you want it to be. If it exists in perception, you can work to tweak it. Context always matters though, of course.

I hope you enjoyed reading. I don't know if anyone other than me has concluded this (I mean I'm sure others have), but I hope that something has been gained from your own perspective.

Thank you, and have a nice day.

[moonlightspencie]

you should see the things we do, baby

Description: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream. (Part 2 to this drabble)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader x Sirius Black (not wolfstar unless you count a few comments from sirius lol)

Warnings: oh boy (18+ only!): p in v, oral (fem receiving), threesome and a trip to paris, big dick!remus, teasing, kind of dom!remus, sirius is shy for once

Word Count: 5.2k words

A/N: this was supposed to be a DRABBLE. also i don’t write smut like ever so pls be nice to me

A week had passed, and Sirius’ embarrassment had yet to subside. In fact, it was only made worse as he had two more dreams with a very similar subject matter.

It was terrible. It was exhilarating.

Sirius had never had problems finding someone to satisfy his needs whenever they arose, but dreaming of you caused a whole new slew of problems. It seemed like no matter what he did or who he tried to flirt with, you were still on his mind.

It was made far worse by the fact that Remus knew about his dirty little secret and had been relentlessly teasing him about it. Every chance he got, he’d show you off or pack on the PDA in front of poor Sirius, chuckling into your skin when the usually-suave Sirius would turn pink and need to look away.

Your suspicions in all of this only grew.

You sat with Remus in the bedroom he had at the place he shared with Sirius. So far, you’d only been reading side-by-side, everything being fairly innocent. That is, until an idea popped into your head.

“Love?”

Remus hummed in question.

“What’s going on with Siri lately? I know something is up.”

Remus shrugged, not putting his book down. “Not sure, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes, setting your book down on the nightstand. You turned to look at him more fully.

“I don’t like when you lie to me.”

He huffed. “Darling, it’s really nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I am worried,” you whined. “He’s been acting so strangely around me lately. I know that you know what’s happened, too.”

“How do you know that?” he asked with a soft smile, finally setting his book off to the side.

“Because I know you, my dear,” you said, nuzzling into his neck. “Please tell me?”

“I can’t, love,” he responded, a hand coming to rest on your back.

You groaned, lifting your face. You set a hand on his thigh, rubbing against his leg softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Baby, please? I’ll make it worth your while.”

He smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded with an innocent smile, moving your hand up his leg slowly.

“Promise.”

“You say that like I’m not the one who’d have you begging for it in a minute,” he said, voice suddenly low and gravely.

You swallowed, knowing he was right, but unwilling to admit defeat just yet. You merely turned, pouting to yourself as you pulled your hands away. Then, you hid a smirk as a new idea came into your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you said, standing suddenly and moving towards the bathroom door.

You turned on the faucet to let the water heat up, walking back into Remus’ bedroom and straight to his closet. You started undressing, only taking one of his shirts off the hanger for after your shower once you were fully bare in front of him. You hadn’t yet turned around, reaching for a towel, but you could feel his eyes on you.

You sent him an innocent smile as you walked past the bed, right back into the bathroom with the door wide open. If he could hide things from you, you figured you could tease him as much as you’d like.

“You can join me if you want to spill the truth, love,” you called out, turning on the shower head and stepping under the stream.

It was a while before you finally heard him get off the bed, and a smile spread to your face. You heard the curtain open, not bothering to look in his direction.

“Don’t even think about coming in here unless you’re going to tell me what’s happened.”

“Darling. You’re being unfair.”

“I’m being perfectly fair,” you said, turning to him at last.

You had to admit, it was hard to turn him down when he was stripped down in front of you, asking to get in the shower alongside you. Few things sounded better than getting your hands all over his pretty body under the shower stream. But one of those few things just happened to be knowing that secret the boys were keeping from you. You shook your head at him when he pouted at you.

“All you have to do is tell me what’s wrong,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

He swallowed, looking you up and down.

“If I tell, you have to promise you won’t say anything to Pads.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, love.”

He hopped in, shutting the curtain behind him with a cheesy grin, pulling you in for a heated kiss immediately. You let him have that, kissing him back, feeling him grow harder against your stomach from the contact. You sucked his lip into your mouth, letting it go with a pop.

“Tell me, then we keep going, yeah?”

“Siri had a sex dream about you. Feels real awkward about it, now.”

You raised a brow. “That’s it?”

He nodded. “But he’s terribly embarrassed about it. It’s why he’s been acting like that with you. Doesn’t know how to act now.”

“Why not?”

“Well, speaking from experience, darling,” he started, pressing another kiss to your lips, “once you get the picture of you all bare and begging in your head, it’s hard to get it out.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I find it hard to believe I’d have that strong an effect on anyone. Especially from a dream.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled, capturing your lips again.

He let his hand trail down your body, rubbing at that little bundle of nerves in the way that made your knees weak instantly. He knew your body better than anyone, and he loved proving it to you over and over again. You tried to get into it, holding onto him tightly, but you found yourself preoccupied with questions.

“What is it, baby?” Remus asked against your neck, leaving soft kisses to your skin. “You’re distracted.”

“Just confused, is all, Rem,” you said, a little breathless from the contact he was making.

He hummed. “Why? You thinking about what it’d be like getting fucked by Sirius, now?”

You scoffed. “No. Just wanna know why it’s such a big deal for him.”

“You’re gorgeous, doll,” he said, letting out a small noise at your hand around his cock. “Surprised it took him this long to realize he’d like a go at you.”

You sighed, a whimper leaving you as his hand moved faster. He was clearly enjoying every bit of this.

“Sounds like you like the idea of it,” you quipped.

He chuckled lowly, bucking his hips into your hand. Your head fell against the tile in the shower, though he didn’t let you rest for long. He pulled away from your hand, lining himself up with your entrance instead.

“Maybe I do.”

He pushed inside of you, picking you up and pushing you against the shower wall as he rammed his hips into yours.

“Maybe I like the idea of watching you squirm on my cock with Sirius down your throat. Using that pretty mouth of yours,” he groaned into your ear. “Let him get a little preview of what it’s like to be with you in real life— not just in his dreams, yeah?”

You whined, the effect of his words making you plummet towards your climax at a rapid speed. He slapped your clit quickly, making your body jerk.

“You can pretend you don’t like that idea, but I can feel you clenching around me when I talk about it,” he said, looking you in the eye again with a mischievous grin. “No use lying to me, darling.”

“Remus…”

“What, darling? Tell me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, head dropping to his shoulder. “M’gonna… I-I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he said, getting a bit out of breath himself as he pounded you into the wall. “You can let go for me.”

You held onto his shoulders for dear life, coming hard around him, your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. He didn’t let up his pace until he was spilling inside of you, barely holding you up as he did.

“Did so good, love,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead gently. “Good girl.”

You smiled softly, blushing every time he praised you, even after years together. He let you down onto shaky legs.

“Thank you, Rem.”

He furrowed his brows with a small smile. “For what?”

“Making me come like that,” you said, a little sheepish. “Best one in a while.”

“Naughty girl,” he growled playfully into your ear, nipping at the lobe. “Getting off on the idea of fucking our best friend.”

“Remus,” you groaned, pushing him away a little. “Stop it.”

“It’s okay, darling,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “You know I’m just teasing. But if you ever wanted to—”

You raised a brow, unsure how much of this was really a joke. He cracked a smile, rolling his eyes mockingly.

“I’m not going to push you to do anything, but I don’t think that Sirius would mind it. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Since when have you ever wanted to share me?”

He shrugged, turning to shut off the water that started growing colder. He stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and then tucking you into one as well, helping you out of the shower. He hugged you to his chest, slowly drying you off in his arms.

“I never wanted to before. Then,” he tilted his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “he told me about that dream. Thought it might be fun to share you, just a little. I also thought you might like the idea.”

“Why’s that?”

“Know you love to be all filled up,” he smirked. “What better way to get you full from both ends than with a friend?”

You laugh, dropping your head on his chest. “You’re gross.”

“You love it.”

“I love you. Not so much when you’re being all icky.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You liked it enough when I was fucking you against the wall, yeah?”

Your cheeks heated up, a shy smile on your face.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed. “Alright, I’m all done, now, my darling. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just—”

He paused. “What is it, love?”

“I don’t even know how we’d, like…” you groaned. “This is so weird to even talk about.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to press a delicate kiss against your lips.

“If you want me to, I can do all the talking,” he whispered. “You just sit with me and be your usual pretty self. Just so he knows I’m not screwing with him.”

You looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice soft. “Whatever you want, darling. Anything for you.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“Alright? You want to?”

You nodded, and his smile grew. He kissed you again, then kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your other cheek. Then your jaw, and eventually all over your face until you were a giggling mess.

“Okay,” you surrendered. “Okay, Rem, all done. Come on.”

You took his hand, pulling him back into the bedroom.

“Nap first, cause you fucked all my energy out,” you said, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. He paid no mind, giving you a cocky smirk. “Then dinner, then… We’ll talk.”

He nodded. “Alright, princess.”

Sirius sat around most of the day, his nerves inexplicably on edge no matter what he did. He couldn’t place why he felt so anxious, but it just kept building. Up until after dinner time, it didn’t make any sense— but then, it started making a lot of sense.

You were all in the living room together once again, in what would normally be a comfortable silence as music played softly. However, Sirius was anything but comfortable.

Once again, you were perched on Remus’ lap, letting him run his hands all over you like nobody else was around. It had become more of a habit over the past week. Though, your teasing smile every time Siri caught your gaze was new.

He flushed each time your eyes met his, giving him a smile or a wink that he was certain he wasn’t imagining. It made him horribly nervous that you knew something. It also excited him more than he’d like to admit.

He had committed to not touching himself when he thought of you, and so far he had been true to his promise to himself. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t absolute torture with how often you’d been occupying his mind. It seemed that every time he tried to… be alone with himself, you’d pop into his brain. To put it shortly: he was on edge in every sense of the word.

He tried not to watch you and Remus, knowing Remus was merely teasing him for his dream, but every man has a breaking point.

His came when Remus bit down softly on your neck, and you let out a little whimper. It was horribly close to what he’d imagined in his dreams, and he found his pants growing a bit tight and uncomfortable. It only worsened when he looked up to see your eyes trained on him as Remus attacked your neck with lips and teeth, not bothering to be polite in front of his housemate. You smiled softly, a glimmer in your eye as you locked your gaze on Sirius. It took a great deal of control to look away from you, and he mentally patted himself on the back when he finally did.

“Not enjoying the show, Pads?” Remus asked teasingly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Aww,” you cooed. “What happened to my sassy Siri? You’re usually so forward and flirtatious. Why change now?”

His eyes widened, and he looked between you and Remus. You both wore eerily similar smirks, and suddenly he felt his mouth dry up. He leveled his gaze at Remus.

“You didn’t.”

Remus raised his brows. “Didn’t what?”

“You told her, didn’t you?”

“She can be very convincing,” he offered.

Sirius groaned. “You’re unbelievable. I ask you to keep one secret…”

“Come on, Siri, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” you said, adjusting your position in Remus’ lap. “I won’t blame you for having a dream.”

He sighed, not meeting your eye. He shook his head.

“I don’t get embarrassed.”

“What do you call those red cheeks of yours, then?” you teased.

He turned his glare to you. “Not funny, angel.”

“Still calling me by pet names, though,” you smiled, turning to Remus. “You wanna ask, now?”

“You two need to stop this. It’s not fair,” Sirius shook his head, staring at the both of you, unamused.

“Done teasing, Pads,” Remus said, moving you on his lap to get a better view of his friend. “I have a real question for you, now.”

Sirius looked on, curious but cautious. He raised a brow in question.

“We were talking earlier, and, well, after that dream of yours,” Remus began.

Sirius cut him off. “Right, I’m done then.”

He started moving to get out of his seat.

“Sit down,” Remus said, furrowing his brow. “Just listen.”

Sirius huffed, plopping back down. He crossed his arms, and you held back a chuckle at his little show of annoyance. You leaned into Remus’ chest as he started talking again.

“We want to invite you to be with us for the night,” he said plainly.

Sirius gaped for a moment, then quickly shut his mouth, setting his face hard.

“S’not funny, Mooney,” he said, then looked at you with an equally severe look. “And I expect better from you.”

Your eyes went a little wider. “We’re not joking, Siri.”

He looked between the two of you, unsure. His cheeks were tinted red as he tried to formulate a response. You merely quirked a brow, hoping it would settle in for him that you weren’t lying. It was taking far too long for your liking, evidently.

“What happened to you being all snarky and smooth? Blushing and stumbling over us asking you to come to bed,” you said, shaking your head.

Remus snorted behind you, pressing his face into your neck.

“You’re one to talk, love,” Sirius retorted quickly. “I couldn’t send a wink your way years ago without you going red.”

“So defensive, Padfoot,” Remus tutted. “If you don’t want to—”

“No,” Sirius responded, too quickly. “No, I just… If you two are playing some prank on me—”

“We’re not,” Remus said with finality.

Sirius let out a breath, his gaze lingering on you before he finally nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he cleared his throat, throwing on a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get those dreams out my head, yeah?”

“Maybe,” you said with a smile. “Maybe it’ll make them worse.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t know if I can handle that.”

You smiled to yourself, standing and taking Remus’ hand in yours. “Come on, love.”

He stood with you, glued to you as you started walking towards his bedroom, but not before you turned to Sirius and sent him a wink. He raised his brows, unsure if he should get up and follow.

“You’re supposed to come too, Siri,” you called out behind you.

He nodded to himself, taking in a quick breath as he followed after you both. His heart pounded in his chest as you all stepped into the bedroom. He knew he was still blushing, but couldn’t quite stop himself. He never got nervous about sex, but this felt entirely different that anything he’d done before. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to appear confident, though he knew he was probably failing miserably.

He watched as you walked up to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed as Remus lingered near the mattress with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don’t be nervous,” you said quietly, instructing him to sit down on the bed.

He watched with wide eyes and a bitten lip as Remus spun you around, kissing you more intensely than Sirius had ever witnessed before. He felt that discomfort in his pants growing again, watching your body fully pressed against Remus’ as you let him explore your mouth until you were entirely breathless. Remus pulled away from you, pressing one last soft peck to your lips.

“Just want to remind you who you belong to before we start this,” he smirked. “Go on, show him what those pretty lips feel like.”

You leaned up, unable to stop yourself from kissing him once more before turning to Siri. You sat on the bed next to him, facing him.

“This okay?” you asked quietly.

“Definitely,” he nodded.

You rested one hand on his leg, leaning in slowly until he met you halfway. You nipped at his lip, not quite kissing him, yet. Luckily for you, he took that as a sign to make the first move. You smiled into the kiss: he was clearly desperate as he pressed his lips to yours intensely, scooting closer to you on the mattress. You licked softly at the crease between his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he opened up for you. You felt Remus’ hand stroke through your hair as you let his best friend kiss you deeply. One of your hands moved up to Siri’s jaw, stroking his skin softly.

“That’s my girl,” Remus said softly, his voice giving away his arousal. “So good, darling.”

You peeked your eyes open, looking up at him for a moment as you moved your lips to Sirius’ neck. He gave you a soft smile, letting you take full control of the situation, even when he clearly wanted to. You reached up with the hand you had against Sirius’ face to trail up Remus’ leg and towards the noticeable bulge in his pants. He licked his lips, moving his hips a bit closer to you. Sirius sighed softly in your ear when you dragged your teeth against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

“Come on, darling,” Remus said, pulling you away from Sirius and up to your feet.

You looked at him expectantly, understanding his impatience more when he started tugging at your top. You let him take it off of you, hearing a hard breath come out of Sirius when he saw that you didn’t have anything under the shirt. Remus turned you towards Sirius, pressing open-mouthed kisses all down your neck.

“Isn’t she pretty, Pads?” he asked against your skin.

Sirius swallowed, nodding. “Very.”

He leaned back on the mattress, palming the bulge in his pants as he watched your chest rise and fall from Remus’ lips on you. You smirked when Remus trailed his hands up your torso, Sirius’ eyes following every movement carefully, before landing on your breasts. You pushing your hips back into Remus, making him groan softly at the friction against his still-clothed member. You thought it was only fair with how he squeezed at the flesh of your tits, playing with your nipples until you couldn’t hold back your noises anymore.

You were breathing heavily, your eyes fluttering open when Remus’ hands started retreating. You looked at Sirius who hadn’t pulled his eyes from you the entire time. You reached for him.

“Siri,” you said, pulling his hands to you.

He let his fingertips explore your exposed skin, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his lips. You whimpered softly at the contact of his wet mouth against your irritated skin, your hand threading through his hair. You only stopped when you felt Sirius’ movements stop, his mouth barely against you as he glanced over your shoulder.

“Damn, Mooney,” he said, eyes wide. “Didn’t know you were… How was I the womanizer in school?”

You looked behind you, smiling at your now-bare boyfriend in all his glory. You couldn’t blame Sirius for being impressed— He had, by far, the biggest dick you’d ever seen personally. You were practically convinced he wouldn’t fit inside of you the first time you saw him.

“I was too busy chasing after this one,” he said, nodding towards you, leaving you blushing. “Not that big, anyways.”

“Not that…” Sirius started, trailing off. “Mate, I can’t stop staring. How have you gotten through life like that?”

You snorted a laugh. “Alright, stop staring at my boyfriend’s cock.”

“It’s impressive,” Sirius said simply, raising a brow as he looked on before turning his gaze away and towards your face. “No wonder you’re always trying to shag.”

You felt Remus behind you, pressing himself fully against your backside. “Helps that she’s just as impressive.”

Sirius swallowed, suddenly feeling overly dressed as he watched Remus tug your pants down your legs, leaving you in a pair of black panties.

“Wait till you feel her mouth, Pads,” Remus said, nipping at your shoulder. He then spoke into your ear. “Why don’t you help him out of those clothes, darling?”

You obliged with a shake of your head and smile. Sirius shot you a cocky smirk as you pulled his sweater over his head.

“Stand,” you instructed, to which he quickly obeyed.

You pulled his pants down, smiling to yourself at the tent in his underwear. You tugged those down next, and while he was no Remus size-wise, he was just as pretty. You stared for a moment, tongue wetting your lips subconsciously. As you stood back up, Remus shoved his hand into your panties, making a satisfied noise at how wet you’d become already.

He pulled his hand back up, popping the fingers he’d brushed against you in his mouth. You watched, never not enamored with how bold he got in bed. He smirked at you, then looked at Sirius.

“Care for a taste?”

Sirius nodded quickly. “Love to.”

“Lay down for him, darling,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You quickly climbed onto the bed, laying against the pillows at the headboard. Remus smiled softly at you, his eyes looking you up and down lovingly.

“Pretty girl,” he sighed, shaking his head. He sat next to you after a moment, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, Sirius.”

Remus nodded at the apex of your thighs, expecting Sirius to get to work. Siri gave you a questioning look, to which you nodded with a smile. He crawled between your legs, kissing all the way up your thighs until he reached your panties. He pulled them slowly down your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you before him.

“Wow,” he said, breathless. He looked at Remus again, “Understand why you always want to shag, too.”

“And you haven’t even really touched her yet,” Remus said with a light laugh. He kissed you on your forehead. “See, love? You are entirely irresistible.”

You shook your head, capturing his lips with a hand on his neck. Just in time, too, moaning into his mouth as you felt Sirius dive into your cunt like nothing you’d expected. You gasped again, though Remus shoved his tongue in your mouth to keep you quiet. The only way you could describe what Sirius was doing was that he was not only eating you out, but fully making out with your pussy. You clenched around nothing, writhing under both of their grips on you: Remus’ hands holding your waist and neck, Sirius’ arms wrapped around your legs to keep you open for him.

“Feel good, darling,” Remus asked against your lips.

You nodded with a whine. “Yes. Fuck.”

Sirius groaned against you, the vibrations shooting all over you.

“Shit, Siri,” you moaned, a hand in his hair. “So good.”

Remus smiled, shaking his head at you before diving back in to kiss you again, directing your hand to stroke his cock as he did. Between his tongue in your mouth and Sirius’ mouth all over your soaked cunt, it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar tension in your stomach start to snap. You cried out against Remus, your whole body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you at a rapid speed. Sirius left soft kisses all over your thighs, pressing one last kiss directly on your clit before he sat up. You opened your eyes, looking at him in a daze. You knew from rumors he was supposed to be good in bed, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so talented with his mouth.

You also didn’t expect to look down and see him leaking precum as if he’d been the one getting off. You whimpered again at the sight, arousal only building at the fact that he was that excited from going down on you. You started moving your hand slowly again where it rested on your boyfriend’s dick, wanting him to feel good, too, but he had other ideas.

“Hands and knees, angel,” he said, kissing your cheek quickly. “Let him see what that pretty mouth can do for him, yeah?”

You nodded, moving to get onto all fours in front of Sirius. You leaned on your elbows, taking him into your hand and stroking him. You looked up, his face already showing obvious signs of his pleasure. You stuck your tongue out, running it terribly slowly over the vein that stuck out on the underside of his cock until you reached the head, pressing a soft kiss just where the precum was leaking out. You licked your lips clean for him, watching as his brows raised, his chest rising and falling a little faster.

“How is it?” he asked, a little amused at your show.

“Tastes like you,” you smirked, taking the entire tip in your mouth, causing a few curses to spill from his lips.

“My little cumslut,” Remus cooed from behind you. “Don’t let her pull off until she swallows, yeah?”

Sirius nodded, breathless as you started bobbing your head faster. “Yeah. Yeah, will do.”

You felt Remus slide his head against you, gathering your slick and Sirius’ left-over spit until he slowly started pushing into you. You moaned your appreciation around Sirius, causing him to tense up, his hand finding it’s way to the back of your head.

“Just like that,” he groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, pushing him deeper into your throat with each thrust. “Fuck, doll. You do this so well. So good.”

Remus slapped your ass from behind, thrusting into you harder. “Manners, baby. He just complimented you, didn’t he?”

You pulled off for a moment, hand taking over. “Thanks, Siri.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, trying to push himself back into your mouth as quickly as possible.

You smiled to yourself, obliging him. Though, it was becoming a little more difficult to keep pace just right when Remus was more-so pulling you on and off his cock rather than thrusting his hips into you.

You groaned and choked on Sirius, especially as he started fucking into your face. You felt yourself rapidly approaching another orgasm, and Remus seemed to notice.

“Come on, love,” he grunted. “I can feel you. I know you want to come all over my cock. Go ahead.”

You whined again, mouth full, and came crashing down. You were barely able to keep yourself up as both men fucked into you relentlessly, and Remus grabbed you around your middle to help you stay upright.

“Just a bit longer, love,” he said, clearly getting close himself.

“I’m gonna…” Sirius said, groaning out the words. He looked down at you with his mouth agape and his eyes dark. All it took was you looking back up at him with teary eyes, his cock pumping in and out of your mouth. “Fuck”

His hips stuttered, and he spilled into your mouth. You shut your lips around him, swallowing as much as you could with him still jammed in your throat. He practically whimpered from overstimulation, pulling out of your mouth to let you swallow whatever you couldn’t before. He flopped down on the bed in front of you, giving you another smirk before he tossed his arm over his face, coming down from his high.

“Alright, love,” Remus mumbled, pounding into you harder now that you weren’t otherwise occupied.

You groaned loudly as he hit that perfect spot inside of you, gasping for breath when you felt a hand toying with your clit. You opened your eyes, seeing it was Sirius who had slipped his hand under your body. He smiled at you, cheeky, especially when he saw your brows knit together. You were getting close again.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” your boyfriend said, pressing his face into your neck. “M’close.”

“Please,” you begged, though not quite sure to who.

Sirius sped up the work of his hand as Remus spilled inside of you, sending you careening over the edge once again. Your body convulsed under Remus’ larger frame, your arms finally giving out under you. You shut your eyes as it took over your entire being, not opening them again until you felt Remus pulling out of you.

“Aww, look at that, Pads,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Think we just about fucked her to sleep.”

You heard Sirius chuckle. “Cute.”

Remus pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m going to get a washcloth for you, alright, love?”

You nodded, barely coherent and thoroughly fucked out, still laying on your stomach. Another hand brushed away some stray hair from your forehead.

“For the record, this is definitely not going to help those dreams of mine,” Sirius said lowly.

[scififettuccine]

maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?

A Wild Fix: Part 1

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French

Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!

From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed. 

You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.

“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.

“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.

“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.

“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.

“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.

“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.

“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.

“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.

“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.

“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.

You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.

“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.

“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”

“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.

“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated. 

“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.

“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.

“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.

“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.

“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”

“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.

“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.

The nerve of this man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!

Masterlist

[really-fanny-longbottom]

the things we do for love

summary: secrets can never be kept for long. eventually, the truth always comes out, and so do the consequences of it.

warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy, birth, fight, death; there's a flashback scene in the middle.

pairings: helion x reader (platonic); inner circle x reader (platonic)

words: 7.6k

you are a scholar from day court. but you are not just a simple scholar — you are the best.  

you were known for graduating at the top of your class and for your impeccable reputation of never failing a project and never leaving a question unanswered.

you have always been a very curious person, and the fact that you grew up in day court gave you the privilege of having access to the best libraries with the best books in prythian.

that's why books were your life and the fact you liked to have an answer for everything, even though helion called you a know-it-all from time to time, and even if that irritated you a little, it was true.

whenever a question arose that you didn't know the answer to, you made it your personal mission to find one. 

even if it meant having to read dozens, if not hundreds of books, but that part you never care about.

besides, the libraries were your favorite places, especially the one near the pegasus stables.

the only thing you liked more than books was pegasus.

you thought they were the most magnificent creatures your eyes had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

your favorite was meallan, who was also helion's favorite — it was with him that you learned to ride a pegasus, and he was your favorite partner to fly and enjoy the sky.

besides being curious, you were also a very adventurous person, and it was your sense of adventure that got you into trouble. 

one day, you decided that it would be a great idea to combine the two things you love most in this world — books and pegasus.  

so you tried flying with meallan while reading one of your romance books, only to get distracted when the scenery in the book started to heat up and lose your balance.

your luck? meallan wasn't flying very high when it happened.  

your bad luck? a broken leg and a very big and angry lecture from helion.

when he heard what you did, he banned you from flying with meallan or any of the other pegasus again for months.

which led you to focus on books again for a while, which helped a lot during your recovery.

your reputation caught rhysand's attention.

the high lord of the night court was in the middle of researching the cauldron.

rumors about hybern being in search of it for a new war had reached his ears, and as all high lords should, he began to prepare for war but the truth is that his library could not be compared with those at day court.

even with the help of the priestesses, he was unable to find almost anything.

that's where you entered the equation.

during a meeting between the night court and day court at helion's palace, rhysand mentioned your name.

helion wasn't surprised.

he knew very well what you were capable of, and in that moment, he couldn't hide the pride he felt for you. 

he knew what rhysand was about to ask of him.

he wanted you to join him and his inner circle in velaris and help with the research, and if possible, bring some books from your court on the subject for them to read as well.

helion had no problem with you helping them, afterall rhysand was one of his longest friends. 

the only thing he didn't like was putting you in the enemy's attention.

if hybern found out, you'd have a target on your back.

helion explained his worries to the high lord of the night court and his inner circle that were seated beside him.

he explained to them how you were not just another citizen of his court. 

you were important and very close to him.

he told them how your mother was one of his best friends for centuries, and when she died, he took you under his care.

the night court assured him that they would treat you like family and that they would not let anything bad happen to you.

before helion could respond, your voice filled the conference room, "i'll do it."

all the heads turned in your direction, helion leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, "how many times do I have to tell you not to eavesdrop?"

with an innocent smile, you replied, "i wasn't eavesdropping. i was passing by, and i heard my name."

"really? you were just passing by?" helion didn't believe you for a second.

the inner circle watched the scene unfold in front of them with amusement in their faces.

"hm-hm" was your response.

helion interlaced his hands and with an amused look — one that you knew very well and that meant he was about to corner you — "and where were you going, if i may ask?"

"i. . .hm, i-" you paused to think, before an idea came to your mind "ah, i was going to the kitchen. yes, that's where i was going."

helion chuckled, "the same kitchen that is on the other side of the palace, and you can't access it from this floor?"

your smile fell, and you realized you had been caught. 

he was right, this floor was for political purposes only — helion's office, the conference room they were in now, an armament room and the map room which was mainly used by helion's general and his soldiers.

everyone tried to contain their laughter at your expression and when you tried to come up with a quick response and couldn't, you decided to admit defeat.

"okay, okay, i wasn't just passing by. what do you want me to say? you know i'm curious."

"indeed, i do." he gave you a smile.

raising from his seat, he gestured for you to approach him, and when you did, he wrapped you in a side hug. "y/n, meet the inner circle." 

you couldn't help but linger your gaze on the shadowsinger. he was stupidly handsome, and no one should look that good. 

the laughter caught your attention, and when you looked at them, you noticed that everyone was smiling except helion. 

realizing what had just happened, you said, "shit, did i just say that out loud?" a hand coming to cover your mouth that was starting to form into a nervous smile.

"unfortunately," helion replied with a roll of his eyes.

another thing you were also, besides being curious and adventurous — is being honest.

you are not, and you have never been afraid to say what you think and be direct about it. 

helion has always really liked that trait of yours but not at the moment, especially when you're using it to flirt with the male in front of you.

"okay, enough." he averted his gaze to azriel, "stop looking at her like that before i regret all of this."

the shadowsinger raised his hand in surrender with a smile playing on his lips.

helion released a sigh before looking at you. "are you sure about this? you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

you gave him an assured smile, "i'm sure, i can do this. besides, it's what i was trained for, right?"

the word 'trained' led you to another thought, one that helion wasn't very fond of "oh, can you train me while i'm there?" you asked the general. 

cassian was surprised by the question. no one ever asked him to train them before, and if they did, it wouldn't be a female.

that made him feel a strange sensation in his chest, one that he wasn't used to. was it, pride?

"of course," he had no problem in saying.

"awesome. i'm going to pack my things." you gave them one last smile before exiting the room. 

with the door shutting behind you, helion turned to his old friend, "alright. rhysand, i'm trusting you, all of you, with her. so. . .do not fail me. unless you would like to see me very angry." helion added a little of enfase with his high lord voice.

rhysand chuckled at his words, but he knew the male meant every single one of them "we won't."

helion turned to cassian, "oh, and cassian? be careful when you eventually put a weapon on y/n's hands. she's a little curious and clumsy even though she never lost or ruined a book, which is kinda of a surprise, actually."

cassian laughed while crossing his amra over his chest, "it can't be that bad."

helion gave them a nervous laugh before telling them one of your many stories.

"i once tried to teach her archery because she was interested and when i was teaching her how to shoot an arrow, she got distracted with a butterfly that was flying near her and the arrow that was supposed to go into the target, end up going into one of the gardener's legs. who, by the way, was on the other side of the garden."

cassian's smile dropped, and he's arms fell to the side.

everyone else laughed, if it was at your story or at his reaction, cassian didn't know.

"oh, this is going to be fun," morrigan said with a "i already like her," followed by amren.

"no weapons, got it." cassian said before starting to re-think about his life's choices. 

•••

you were finishing packing when helion entered your bedroom chambers.

"everything okay?" he asked you.

"yes, i already have everything i need."

you turned to look at him and when you saw his worried look, you gave him a gentle smile "don't worry. i'm going to be fine."

"i know," he reciprocated the smile and approached you.

his hands fond your shoulders and he gave them a tight squeeze "remember, no one can know. it needs to remain a secret." 

"yes, i know. i'm not going to tell them." you promised.

"good," helion gave your shoulders one last squeeze before letting them go, "now, have fun but please be careful with the weapons during training with cassian. we wouldn't want you to lose a finger."

"or him," you added, making you and helion laugh.

"or him," he repeated your words with a chuckle, "also, don't forget our agreement," helion reminded you with a stern look.

you rolled your eyes but with a chuckle escaping your lips, "i know."

"four letters during the week," he said while smiling at your antics, warmth in his eyes "deal?"

"deal."

•••

everything was going well. 

you had been at the night court for about three months now and the research about the cauldron and hybern had progressed a lot with your help. 

you loved velaris and adjusted very well but instead of staying with the inner circle, like rhysand offered, you decided to rent a house near the sidra so you could explore the city of starlight at your own pace. 

and because you never lived alone before and decided to try it — 'a new adventure' that's what you wrote to helion in the letter.

he didn't liked it.

you also did that, so you had a reason for the shadowsinger to fly you to the house of wind and then back to yours —but you decide to leave that little detail out of the letter.

the library at the house of wind made you feel at home and helped with your homesickness. 

the priestesses adored you and found your presence comforting. the only thing they didn't like very much was when you disappeared for a few hours and they had to alert the inner circle.  

they found you on the last floor of the library drinking tea while talking to bryaxis much to cassian's dismay.

when they asked you about it you blamed your curiosity — you had heard some priestesses talking about the creature that lived in the library while searching for a book. 

you went to the edge of the stairs and when you looked down, you found nothing, and you needed to know what this creature was like so your feet started moving before you could stop them. 

you end up finding that bryaxis was really good at telling stories and you thought he was friendly.

cassian didn't liked it.

you were doing remarkable work, rhysand had complimented you multiple times for it.

you were respecting the agreement and sending four letters as agreed and cassian still had all his fingers and toes but the same couldn't be said about the ear he almost lost when you got distracted during sword training. 

two months without any incident — or almost.

but that changed the day a letter from the night court arrived ar helion's office.

••• 

helion never winnowed so fast as he did when he received the letter from rhysand explaining about what happened to you.

the moment helion set a foot on the night court's ground, he was quick to make his way to rhysand and grab him by the colar of his shirt.

"what the hell happened?" he yelled.

rhysand's eyes widened, never in his four hundred years of friendship, had he seen his friend reacting like this.

rhysand told him everything.

how you didn't show up in the library this morning and clotho noticed your absence.

how no one had seen you since last night and after checking if you were in the library or the rooftop training which you weren't, they decided to come to your house to check on you.

how they found the door of your house open and when they check the inside. . .

the house was destroyed.

broken furniture, paintings lying on the floor, shattered objects, torn cushions and then, blood.

not just yours but also whoever invaded.

apparently, training with cassian had worked, because you put up a good fight to the invaders.

and then there were the scents.

the scent of qutumn soldiers.

at least five different scents lingered in the air but they were starting to disappear so they suspected you had been taken at least two hours ago.

and when the explanation ended, helion finally released his friend's shirt and took a step back.

helion panicked.

you kidnapped?

autumn soldiers?

helion knew what this meant.

he had found out the truth and came for you.

all the emotions started overwhelming helion — anger, worry, fear, rage.

this couldn't be happening.

it couldn't be true.

helion leaned over to try to ease the pain he felt in his chest.

but it didn't work.

raising his head, the inner circle watched as helion's golden eyes darkened — anger.

he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you home — to him.

even if it meant he would have to destroy the autumn court with his bare hands, like he did once, to some beasts, centuries ago.

"don't worry, helion, we're going to find your scholar," rhysand promised him.

"she's not just my scholar!" the high lord of day shouted.

he shouted so loud that the birds that were posing on the trees nearby flew away as fast as their wings allowed. 

feyre moved forward and placed her hand on helion's arm, trying to comfort him as much as she could, "what do you mean by that?"

helion met the high lady's eyes, and all she found in them was pain and fear. 

his lip trembled, and after taking a few deep breaths, he told her the truth.

the truth that no one was prepared for.

"she's my daughter." 

the inner circle stilled at his words. for a few moments the only sounds heard, was their breathings.

this was unknown to them, helion had never mentioned a child of his own.

"y/n is my daughter, and she's the princess of the day court."

before any of them had the chance to say something, helion raised his hand and signaled his second in command to approach him.

the male had refused to let his high lord come alone after reading that letter "benjen."

benjen approached him and stood to his full height, ready to receive his orders. "yes, high lord?

"i need you to send a letter to rris, tell him what happened and that he needs to come to velaris as soon as he can."

helion paused for a second, very well aware of the gazes the inner circle were sending his way, "and also tell him not to show the letter to anyone, as soon as he finishes reading it, he must burn it immediately."

"of course, high lord." bejen replied and gave a small nod before leaving to carry out his order.

at the exit of one of his most trusted friends, helion looked turned to face the inner circle, and he only had a second to breathe before the shadowsinger spoke.

"why are you sending a letter to eris? What does he have to do with y/n?" he asked him, with worry and confusion on his face.

if autumn had really captured you, he didn't want to waste another minute.

"everything."

tired of his riddles, rhysand spoke, from one high lord to another.

"helion, tell us what's going on? how is y/n your daughter, and why did i never know about it?"

"how is eris connected to her? and why has she taken by autumn soldiers?" cassian added. 

helion released a long breath and pitched the bridge of his nose.

he approached his old friend, and with a stern look and a firm voice, he said, "if i tell you, rhysand. . .you and your inner circle can't tell anyone." 

rhysand looked back, and with the firm nods of his family, he returned his look to helion before extending his hand to him "i promise."

helion took his hand, and a bargain was made.

a tattoo in the shape of the sun appeared on the back of their necks.

helion gave him a nod before telling him, "y/n's mother didn't die, and she wasn't just a random lover." 

the inner circle approached at the sound of the new information the spell cleaver was sharing them.

they formed a circle around helion, as if the keep the information within it.

"y/n is the result of an affair that i had eighty-two years ago."

helion paused, aware of what he was about to say. once his words came out, he couldn't go back.

"she's mine and elowyn's daughter."

several gasps were heard out loud. they froze in their place's with shock spreading through their features.

oh, this was bad.

this was very bad.

"you mean. . .?" feyre wasn't able to finish her sentence, too afraid to say it.

"yes." he said, his eyes locked on the high lady's blue ones, "the lady of autumn is her mother."

helion sighed, and turned with his back facing them "we kept it a secret all these years so beron wouldn't find out, but apparently, he has."

helion took a step back and passed a hand through his long black hair. "that's how y/n is connected to eris. he's her older brother."

mor spoke for the first time since all of this happened. "but how does he know?" 

helion looked at her. "because eris was the one who brought y/n to me on the day she was born."

•••

eight-two years ago

the sun had left a long time ago.

the night had already come with it's dark sky, shiny stars, and smooth breeze.

the entire prythian was thankful for it.

every citizen from every court just wanted today's day to end.

no one understood or had an explanation for the events of today. 

it didn't make sense.

prythian was in the height of winter — two weeks from the Winter Solstice to be more precise. 

and even though the seasonal courts didn't follow the natural course of nature, they, too, were affected.

during the entire day, the sun shined like it had never shined before, releasing an unbearable heat that prythian had never felt before.

not even the summer court or the day court have had a sun like that before.

and these were the two courts best known for their warm suns.

even winter court, known for it's constant cold, and it's land always decorated with snow and ice felt uncomfortable with the sun.

nothing happened differently during the course of today's day to explain the reaction from the sun.

there was no reason for it.

except, there was, they just didn't know that.

—

the letter came a few minutes after helion had finished his dinner.

he, too, was contemplating about the sun's behavior earlier. 

he even made his way to one of his many libraries to see if this event had ever happened before but he found nothing.

it wasn't strange for the sun to shine like it did today.

they've had their fair share of hot summers but for the sun to shine like that during the winter?

that didn't make sense.

and with all the libraries and even more the books he owned, there had to be an answer somewhere.

the high lord of day was in the middle of reading a book when the letter appeared on top of it.

the letter had brown tones with leaf patterns and an intense scent of pine — Autumn.

that was the second strange thing that happened today.

why — of all the Courts — would autumn be sending him a letter?  

it was then that he noticed that the letter did not come from beron.

the stamped seal did not belong to the high lord.  

no, the seal was in the shape of a hound.

the heir's beloved creatures and personal seal.

eris Vanserra sent him a letter — a personal letter.

without further hesitation, helion opened the letter and read the content hidden within.

if he was confused before, he is even more now. 

the letter contained three simple instructions: "meet me at the border between day and dawn in twenty minutes. come alone and don't let anyone see you. burn the letter once you finish reading it."

now, this was even stranger than the sun's behavior.

—

helion knew that he was most likely making a mistake. 

meeting eris alone at the border could very well be a trap, but on second thought, what reason did the heir have to ambush him?

the answer was none.  

he knew that eris was not the cruel and arrogant male he appeared to be.

he knew that deep down eris was good, honest and kind and that the rest was nothing more than a mask that he had created because of beron.

that's why helion followed his instructions.

he just hoped he didn't regret it.

as agreed, eris appeared exactly twenty minutes after sending the letter.  

the high lord of day decided to arrive a little earlier as a precaution, just to make sure there were no hidden hounds ready to attack his legs, especially today that he was wearing a new robe.

helion had no idea what this secret meeting was about.

he came to think that perhaps the heir was moments away from asking him for help to take down beron, but he came to the conclusion that if that were the case, it wasn't him that eris would ask for help, but the night court, so he scrapped that idea and was left with no other.

therefore, he had no expectations for this meeting — if it could be called that. 

but the last thing he expected was to see eris vanserra with a newborn in his arms.

—

the day was already feeling long, but with the sun shining like that and the unbearable heat that came from it, it only made it seem even longer.

elowyn, lady of the autumn court, had now been in labor for three hours.

the eighth child of beron vanserra and elowyn was about to come into the world.

and like all the other births, beron was far away from the room where his wife was.  

but eris was there.

just like he was at all the births of his younger brothers, holding his mother's hand like he always did.

eris loved his mother more than anything, and one of the reasons he wanted to overthrow beron so much was so she could be free and happy.

he also knew that lucien was her favorite son, and although it hurt him, he would still do anything for her.

but what was unknown to eris was that he was her favorite son too.

eris was surprised when his mother announced that she was pregnant again.

after all, lucien had born more than four hundred years ago.

another brother was something that the young heir wasn't expecting.

but he couldn't not be happy.

besides he always liked taking care of his brothers when they were younger, and after everything that happened maybe a baby was exactly what they needed.

as his mother pushed again, eris began to think about all the things he was going to teach the new member of the family — fishing, hunting, fighting, reading, writing, camping but most importantly how to control his powers.

that was something eris didn't have. 

no one taught him how to control and use his fire, and that led the healers to treat a lot of burns because of it, and he wasn't going to let this baby go through what he did.

his mother's scream shook him away from those thoughts, and Eris refocused all his attention on her and made sure to hold her hand tighter, assuring his mother that he wasn't going anywhere.

not until his brother was born.

two hours later, after many screams, pain, and sweat — a baby's cries burst into the room, bringing tears of happiness to the eyes of elowyn and eris.

but it was at that moment that the mother made her first turn of events.

"it's a girl, my lady," the head healer that was helping with the labor announced "a very healthy baby girl." 

eris froze, not knowing how to react before this new information.

in over a thousand years, the vanserra lineage had never had female descendants. 

this couldn't be possible.

"a girl?" elowyn asked, exhaustion in her voice.

"yes, my lady." one of the healers that assisted with the birth and now holding the baby confirmed while walking closer to the bed.

"it looks like you've been blessed, my lady." 

eris's grip on his mother's hand loosened, and the male stood up from the side of the bed where he had spent the last five hours crouched.

now raised to his full height, eris saw his baby sister, and his heart stopped. 

and that was when the mother made her second turn of events.

the baby didn't look like eris or his mother or anyone in his family.

her hair wasn't red, her eyes weren't russet or brown, and her skin wasn't pale. 

she wasn't a daughter of autumn.

meaning she wasn't beron's daughter.

eris took the baby from the healer's arms before speaking to all of them. "leave us." 

the head healer asked before making her exit, "should we announce the birth to the high lord, my prince?"

"no," eris was quick to respond.

he looked at the baby in his arms again before meeting the gaze of the female. "i'll tell him myself when he gets back from the meeting. thank you for your help."

"of course, my prince." the healer turned to face elowyn and bowed one more time before leaving the room "my lady."

elowyn gave her a small smile. "thank you, lydia." 

now alone in the room, eris finally looked at his mother and took a seat on her left side of the bed, and passed the baby to her arms.

at the sight of her daughter, elowyn cried.

she knew what this meant.

beron was going to kill her and her child.

her love affair had ended after becoming pregnant with lucien, but after seeing helion at the high lords meeting three years ago, all the feelings that she had buried deep down in her heart came to the surface.

and as always, she wasn't able to stay away from the male she's always loved — the love of her life, her mate, and now the father of two of her children.

elowyn ran her fingers over the delicate cheek of her daughter — her only daughter.

and with tears running down her face, she looked at her firstborn and said to him in a low voice "he's going to kill us, isn't he?" 

it was eris's turn to have tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall.

placing one of his fingers in front of his little sister, eris saw the baby wrap her small hand around his finger, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat at the gesture. 

he had a gentle smile on his lips as he looked at the newborn now sleeping in his mother's arms.

her hand still wrapped around her big brother's finger.

"she's Helion's, isn't she?" eris asked without taking his eyes from the baby.

elowyn's mouth opened in surprise.

she never mentioned helion to anyone, not even to lydia who wasn't just the court's head healer but also her dearest friend.

"wha-"

"it's okay, mom. i have known for a while." eris gave her a small smile, eyes still directed to his sister.

"since when?"

"since lucien," eris finally looked at his mother. 

eris gave a long sigh before revealing his opinion to his mother "if you would like to know, i wish you had married him and not Beron, even if that meant i would never been born."

eris grabbed her hand and give it a tight squeeze before continuing "you deserve to be happy and well treated, mom, and i know that helion does that and so much more. i've never seen you as happy as on the days you returned from your encounters with him."

elowyn gave him a genuine smile before murmuring a small "thank you," she had no idea her son was aware of this.

eris chuckled, now putting the two pieces together, "this is why the sun is acting like crazy today, isn't it? because she's a child of day.

the same had happened with Lucien but it wasn't as strong as today and lucien was born in the summer which didn't raise any suspicions.

his mother nodded her head in affirmation before returning her eyes to her daughter, smiling, "she looks just like him."

and it was true.

everything about you screamed helion — your eyes, your hair, your skin, and even your nose.

there was no doubt in it.

concerned invaded her face, and elowyn found herself holding the baby tighter to her chest. 

she looked at her son again, "what are we going to do?" 

eris met her gaze before looking at the peaceful baby again, and his head started to work to come up with a plan. 

even if you weren't beron's you were still his sister — his baby sister — and he wasn't going to let that horrible male harm you. 

after a few minutes and after thinking about all the possible ways, eris understood there was only one option — one that he hated.

but that didn't matter.

what mattered was to keep you safe and alive even if it meant to send you away.

the tears returned to his eyes.

he had to swallow the lump in his throat because he knew he was about to break his mother's heart.

after breathing for a few seconds to calm his heart, he gathered enough courage to tell her, "i have a plan." 

and just like that, the mother made her third and final turn of events.

—

the High Lord of Day couldn't believe what was in front of him.

eris vanserra with a newborn in his arms?

things had just gotten far more interesting or dangerous.

the heir of autumn was walking in his direction and looking at his surroundings while doing it.

when he finally stood in front of the high lord, eris asked him, "are you alone?"

with an annoyed look, helion raised his arm to gesture around them, "do you see anyone else here, prince?"

"as far as i'm concerned, you could have soldiers hiding behind the trees ready to attack me at your signal, high lord." eris gave a sarcastic smile.

helion reciprocated his smile while adding, "i could say the same about you." 

eris shrugged his shoulders and concluded, "i suppose that's true." 

helion winked at him before his eyes moved to the baby in his arms.

trying to act as normal as possible and not let his curiosity take the better of him, helion asked "who's this little one? and why would you bring a baby here?" 

helion didn't have a good view of you, only of the top of your head since the rest was hidden by the blanket.

at the question, eris held you tighter in his arms, he looked to the high lord, who was still busy staring at you, probably trying to get a better look.

he wanted to see his reaction when he revealed the truth to him.

"this is my sister. she was born a few hours ago." the Heir said and moved the blanket so helion could finally see you.

when eris removed the blanket and helion finally had a good view of you, confusion settled on his features.

the spell cleaver's features scoffed before telling him, "she's your sister?"

eris nodded before helion continued. "i hate to be the one telling you this, eris, but she looks noth-"

you opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, making the high lord of day freeze in his place.

helion stopped.

his heart did, too.

realization entered him as he put the pieces together. 

he raised his head to look at the redheaded male who only gave a nod of affirmation as his response.

helion had to blink his eyes several times to make sure that he wasn't dreaming — that this was real.

you looked just like him. 

"it's not possible." helion said, more to himself than to the young heir

"it is. she's the living proof of that." eris told him.

helion's eyes widened in disbelief, "the sun?" he murmured.

"yes," eris confirmed as he passed one of his fingers through your cheek.

helion couldn't tear his eyes from.

you were looking at him with your big golden eyes — his eyes.

he felt weak in his knees.

helion always wanted children, he knew that since the moment he met elowyn but the world hadn't been kind to them. 

by the Cauldron, he didn't even know elowyn was pregnant.

the last time they had seen each other was a little over ten months ago, but sometimes that happened, it had happened before.

when Beron was around a lot, it was difficult for her to leave without lifting any suspicions, so they would wait until she could.

sometimes it took weeks, other times mouths, but helion was patient, he would rather wait than risk her safety at beron's rage.

but the wait was worthed because when they were together it was like the rest of the world disappeared and it was just the two of them.

it was perfect. 

the room was lit by the first rays of the morning sun and a gentle breeze came through the window.

the two lovers were together in bed. after a long night of passion and romance, the two were in each other's arms with nothing but a sheet protecting them from the breeze.

elowyn laughed again at the tickling sensation.

she hit helion's arm that was holding her against his chest "stop", but she couldn't stop laughing.

"why would i do that when i can hear that magnificent sound?" helion joined her laugh.

but helion was right.

elowyn only laughed when she was with him, and that was one of the reasons why she loved him so much.

the lady rested her head on the high lord's chest and released a long sigh before giving voice to her thoughts, "i wish i woke up like this every morning."

she adjusted her head on the male's chest so she could look at him,"with you."

helion lowered his head to meet her beautiful brown eyes, a sad smile taking over him, "me too."

"do you ever think about that? about how our life would be if we were together?" she asked him.

"of course i do," he placed a hand on her hair and began to caress it as he spoke "the first thing i would do, would be to marry you and after making you my wife, i would make you my high lady."

a smile began to form on her lips, "ehat else?" 

he reciprocated the smile and continued, "afterwards, we would have our honeymoon at the summer court because i know how much you would like to visit there. and then, i would show you every place of your new Court. the libraries, the pegasus, the entire palace and my favorite places."

he paused for a second, sadness starting to make its way to his features again "i would make you feel like home, and i would make you feel loved, seen and heard every single day. i would give you anything you asked of me, sunshine."

a tear fell from elowyn's eyes, and her lip trembled a little, "that sounds perfect. ot would be a dream come true." 

helion wiped her tears and told her "yes, it would be. . ." he gave her a weak smile.

he, too, felt the pain of what they could only imagine."would you like to hear the best part?"

when she nodded her head, he proceeded "after a few years of being married, if we were blessed enough and if you wanted, of course," he paused, "children."

elowyn didn't know what to say.  

she had confessed to helion a long time ago how she wished she had run away from her family and married him instead of her current husband.

how she wished she had been strong enough to stand up to her father and how she wished all her sons were his. 

because this last confession was what held her back in autumn, she was not capable of abandoning her sons and leaving them at the mercy of beron. 

she couldn't wait for the day when eris killed him so she could finally be what she always wanted — lady of the day court but in this case she would be high lady as helion had told her and she didn't doubt for a second of his words.

but unlike helion, the first thing she would do, wouldn't be to marry him but to accept the mating bond.

that beautiful, golden, and magical mating bond.

she tugged on the bond and a second later helion did the same.

finding the words she was looking for she said to him "of course i would have children with you, helion. that's not even a question."

she giggled, "can you imagine? little versions of you and me running around and causing trouble?"

helion couldn't hold back the laughter that escaped at her words "they would be troublemakers, wouldn't they?" 

elowyn laughed even more "of course they would be."

her laughter quieted and a hint of love adorned her face "maybe i would finally have my little girl. i always wanted a daughter."

"me too," helion confessed, "i would name her after my mother in honor of her."

"your mother was a remarkable female. it would be an honor to name our little sunshine after her," she said and dropped an arm around his waist.

"it would be my greatest achievement.'' he gave her a kiss on the forehead. 

they spent the rest of the morning in bed talking about the future they wanted more than anything and expressed their love one more time until elowyn had to leave.

what they didn't know at the moment was that it was the last time they would see each other for a really long time.

the memory surged through helion's mind like a wave. 

he remembers that day so well after all that day was only ten months ago.

what a coincidence that on the last day they were together they talked about their future and their children and now, right in front of him, was their daughter.

their little sunshine.

with a trembling voice, helion spoke after a long time in silence "can i hold her?" 

"of course," eris was quick to answer,passing you to your father's arms. 

and that's when it happened.

a moment that neither helion nor eris would ever forget.

in the second that you were in helion's arms, both of your skins started glowing as bright as the sun had just a few hours ago.

the day court glow. 

"wow," eris whispered, amazed at what was happening.

"indeed, she really is mine," without taking his eyes from you, helion asked "what's her name?"

"y/n," Eris answered still observing the glow.

once again, the high lord froze on his spot.

his heart started beating faster.

seeing the strange reaction from helion, eris spoke "what is it?"

helion looked at the male with a smile "that's my mother's name. i told elowyn once how if i ever had a daughter, i would want to name her after her." 

eris smiled at the kindness of his mother but he wasn't surprised, she was always like that.

"elowyn," the high lord of day whispered.

locking his gaze with the red-headed male, concern all written in his features at the well-being of the female he had been in love for centuries.

he was so focused on you that he didn't remember to ask this earlier, "elowyn. how is she? is she alright?"

eris released a long sigh, "physically? she's fine but exhausted from the birth. emotionally? she's a wreck, but i suppose that's normal considering her only daughter has to be sent away."

"what?"

"that's why i sent you that letter, helion. i came to bring her to you." eris said, a firm look on his face.

"she can't stay in autumn. no matter how much i want." he murmured the last part to himself, but if Helion noticed he didn't show.

"no one can know about her, about who her mother really is, we need to keep this from away from beron's ears."

he nodded his head, agreeing with the young heir.

of course, you couldn't stay there. he didn't even want to imagine what beron would do if he found out about you.

at the thought of the horrible male, confusion settled on his face again, "wait, what about beron? certainly, he's going to notice that his supposed child is missing."

"don't worry about beron, i took care of it." eris tried to be as vague as possible.

"how?" 

"you don't want to know, besides that's not important right now. she is." he gestured to you, your skin still glowing and now grabbing one of helion's fingers.

eris gave a long breath, and then directed his gaze to you just for a second before raising it again to the high lord "are you going to take her?"

helion scoffed, "what kind of question it's that?"

eris released a long breath of relief, and a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

he didn't doubt that the mal3 would refuse you, but he couldn't but be nervous at the same.

the heir reached for the inside pocket of his coat and removed a letter, and helion took his gaze from you to look at it.

"my mother wrote this for you. she told me to tell you to only read it once you're back home," he handed him the letter.

helion's heart ached at the revelation of elowyn calling his court 'home'.

he accepted the letter and thanked the red-headed male, starting making his way to leave.

but before he could, he stopped at the voice of the heir calling for him.

he turned around to face him.

"i want to be part of her life," eris confessed without hesitation. 

"what? we just agreed that no one can know about her, eris, and that includes you. she can't know you're her brother." helion explained.

"i know that," seeing the confused look Helion gave him, it was his turn to explain.

"she doesn't need to know me as her brother. a friend will be enough." he paused for a second, "beron just nominated me as autumn's emissary which means i will be the one going to your court for meetings so i want to take that as an opportunity to get to know her and to see her grow. that's my only condition, i already lost lucien, and i'm not going to lose her either.'

"very well, as long as you share those moments with elowyn. that's my only condition too," helion replied. 

"consider it done."

without further words, the two males parted away.

one with a heart full and the other with an empty one.

•••

present

helion's heart was no longer full.

how could it be, when you, the best thing that ever happened to him was missing?

he saw the inner circle's face at the big revelation he had just told them.

rhysand broke the silence "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you."

helion met his gaze, "i couldn't risk it. y/n is my number one priority, and she'll always be, so i did everything i had to do in order to keep her safe. i have no regrets."

feyre interlaced her fingers with rhysand's, asking the high lord, "does she know?"

"only that she's my daughter. she doesn't know about elowyn or eris and the rest of her brothers."

"she never mentioned anything," mor replied.

"i told her not to. y/n knows that she's my weakness and that if my enemies knew about her connection to me, they would use it as leverage. so i made sure no one outside of day knew it, except eris and elowyn, not even her other brothers knew it." helion explained.

"not even lucien?" feyre asked, feeling sorry for her friend.

"no, not even him."

"so how did Beron find out?" azriel said, interrupting their conversation.

"i don't-" helion started, but before he could continue, the autumn heir arrived.

as soon as Eris' eyes met helion's, he marched towards him.

the heir was angry, and he didn't spare a glance at the inner circle. 

"where is she?" eris demanded and his heart dropped when he saw the state of the house.

when eris's eyes settle on everyone, all they saw was desperation and fear in his eyes.

"where is my sister?!"

a/n: thank you for reading!

taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[moondirti]

sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.

cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI

he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.

the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.

for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.

if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.

the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.

maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–

your dog's cute. what's his name?

it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.

you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.

unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.

he's tired of holding back.

[thinkinonsense]

Touchཐིཋྀ

origins!logan howlett x fem!reader x black widow!natasha romanoff

cw: mdni!! oral (f+f), strap-on sex, fingering, squirting, doggy style, p in v, angst, some fluff, angsttt, dom!nat & dom!logan x sub!reader

masterlist

after a life of running and living in fear of an impending doom, you and logan had finally managed to build a peaceful life together. deep in the woods sat a wooden cabin where the two of you spent most of your days.

during the week, logan worked down at the lumberyard while you taught ballet to a group of young girls downtown. your boyfriend didn't know much of your past, just that you were tested on and abused back in russia. he never pressured you to talk about the past, his wasn't any better either.

buried in the back of your closet hid a box of belongings from russia. there weren't many things you valued from that time there but you did manage to take some photos of the girls you were friends with, a few journal, and an old pager given to you by someone you no longer knew. her face was everywhere but she never bothered to reach out again after escaping the red room.

"i'll see you later, honey." logan whispered as he kissed your cheek then left the bedroom.

half asleep still, you mumble a goodbye before your head hit the pillow again for the next couple of hours. you didn't have a class today but instead planned on going to town and getting groceries for the week.

it's a little after one when you finally jump in the shower, listing all the things you needed to buy and what you wanted to make for dinner. while picking out an outfit, you hear a faint vibration. logan kept your toys under the bed so, you knew that wasn't where the noise was coming from.

it could be?

inside the box, you can see the familiar number flash. hesitantly, you walk over to the phone and dial. pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, waiting for an answer.

"эй, принцесса."

hey, princess

you knew that voice like the back of your hand but you still couldn't believe it.

"natalia." your accent came out thick and heavy. she should've expected you to be upset still.

it's been everywhere. the news of the sokovia accords and the freeing of the winter soldier. you were keeping up with the news but not too closely. it was irritating watching natasha get to play super hero with the likes of iron man and captain america when you knew the truth.

"can we talk? i need a favor." she sounded desperate.

"i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh, unable to come up with a good excuse.

"c'mon, for old times sake?"

you hesitate. of course you missed her, how could you not? despite the red room being the worst time of your life, natalia was the daylight that kept you going.

"you don't even know where i am."

"look out your kitchen window."

pulling back the curtain, there she stood on your porch. long red hair just like you remembered, a small suite case next to her and a pair of black sunglasses covering her eyes. you hang up the phone and grab a kitchen knife from the counter; moving closer to the door.

"how did you find me?" you squint, feeling somewhere between anger and impressed.

"an old friend owed me a favor." she shrugs. "i didn't picture you as a living among the trees type of girl. you know, it quite dangerous to live alone in the woods."

"i can take care of myself" you remind her before adding, "and i don't live alone."

natasha's face falls a little. if you didn't know her as well as you did, you never would've been able to tell. she had a million questions but wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.

"what was the favor you needed?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"i need a place to lay low for a bit."

was it horrible that you had to remind yourself that you are with logan now? now you love logan more than anything but you would be lying if you said natasha didn't hold a special place in your heart still.

"no games, nat." you put on your best poker face, knowing she could see right through you.

"even though i do miss playing with you," her lips linger closely to yours. sharing the same air. "i promise, no games."

"good. there's a guest room inside."

the two of you enter the house again and you show her the extra room. it's not very decorated, simply and neat. natasha didn't mind, she was just thankful you hadn't tried to fight her once you saw her again.

"so, who's the lucky lady that managed to tie you down?" nat chuckles to herself as she unpacks her things.

"his name is logan." you answer nervously.

why were you nervous? you didn't owe her anything, especially after the way she left you.

natasha felt the knife in her chest twist at the news. not only had you moved on but you were sickly in love. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

a car door slams shut, snapping both of you back into reality.

"i'll be back. there's towels under the sink if you want to take a shower." you linger in the door way, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of you before you leave.

"thanks, принцесса."

she doesn't even look up at you.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

logan could smell trouble miles away. the blood soaked in her jacket. the faint smell of her sweat and your cherry perfume. he assumed you were in trouble, maybe someone broke in or lured you out of the house to attack you. within seconds, he was back in his truck to check up on you.

"hey, honey." you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"hey... are you... are you alright?" he struggled to get out in between kisses.

"mhm, i was thinking we could go for a drive." you were talking too fast, trying to distract him from whatever was inside.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" one of his brows arched, waiting for the truth.

both of you climb into the truck but logan never starts the car. instead he listens to the rapid beating of your heart.

"there's something—someone, from my past that's inside. she needed a place to lay low for a little bit."

logan could tell by your lack of eye contact that there was something you were still hiding something about this friend of yours.

"I won't be upset." he saying lovingly, reaching for your hand.

"when i was in the red room, i worked closely with a woman that i also was in a relationship with at the time."

logan wasn't sure why you were nervous to tell him this? he knew you liked women as well and he wasn't threatened by it. sure, is it a bit odd that your ex was coming here to hide out? defintely but logan of all people should know what it's like to be in need of somewhere to hide out.

"it was more than just physical. she meant a lot to me until..." you debated on telling him more but still on the fence.

"until?" he tests the waters.

"dreykov sent me to budapest. she never looked for me." on the verge of tears, you bite down on your tongue. "it killed me because not only did she leave me but she abandoned all the other girls that were stuck in the red room."

logan pulls you into his chest, stroking your hair gently, letting you know that it's okay to cry. your brain didn't get the memo because nothing came out.

"you don't have to let her stay here if it's too much for you." he reminds you.

"i know. i'm just not sure if i can handle her leaving again."

"must've really loved her, huh, princess?"

you nod softly into his chest.

"i don't mind if she stays but if you don't want her too, that's fine too." he says. "just want you to be happy."

in times like these, it hits you just how lucky you are to be with someone like logan. someone so understanding and loving. he knew the pain you went through all those years ago and how deep the connection with the woman inside must be. you can't survive that level of abuse without something keeping you going. for you, that something was natasha.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

inside the house, natasha watched you and logan out in the car. slightly intimidated by your boyfriends stature and entirely jealous of his arms wrapped around you. she had to remind herself that you were practically a stranger to her now. so much has changed over the years and neither of you were the same girls from the red room anymore.

when she saw the two of you exiting the car, she rushed back into the guest room. in the tiny hallway, she noticed the picture frames on the wall. there's a photo of a group of young ballerinas and yourself. natasha wonders if that's how you keep yourself connected to your past life.

next to your picture is your boyfriend -whatever his name was- and some of his friends outside of a fancy looking school. natasha tried to pay little attention to it on her way back to the room.

ten minutes pass before there's a soft knock on the door.

"come in." natasha calls out, turning off the television.

from behind the door, you appear with a plate and a glass in your hands. the smile on her lips, drops the moment she sees him at your tail.

"thought you might be hungry." you explain, handing her the sandwich you made for her

"isn't that sweet of you to think of me," she teases, watching the way your cheeks flush with color at her words.

logan leans against the door frame while you sit on the bed with natasha. he watched as you completely bewitched the red headed woman in front of you. she was practically hanging onto every word you said. he couldn't blame her though, you have the same effect on him.

"you must be 'lucky logan' ?"natasha cocks her head at the man behind you.

"guess so." he smirks, admiring the doe eyes you give him.

"hm, and you're okay with me staying here?" she asks.

"that's not up to me." logan shrugs.

natasha's green eyes shift over to your face, waiting for you to say something.

"i want you here, nat." you admit.

her heart flutters in her chest. she knew she didn't deserve a second chance and would leave if you asked her too but god, was she grateful that you still wanted her to be here.

"i don't deserve you, принцесса." she says softly, finding it hard to mask her feelings anymore.

"shhh..." you tell her. "just get some rest."

natasha actually listens to you, finishing her sandwich and crawling under the soft comforter. you reach for the empty plate and she stops you before you could walk away; placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. the tiny gasp that left your mouth didn't sneak past either of them in the room. once she let you go, you and logan exit the room and go into your own shared bedroom.

logan watched you pace back and forth, wiping her kiss mark off on your blue jeans. it pulled at his heart strings to see you so torn by natasha's presence. tears fall down your face like rain.

"don't cry, sweetheart." logan says, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm s-sorry, lo..." you apologize, upset at yourself for still harvesting these feelings towards natasha.

"for what?" he asks, lifting up your chin to look at him.

"i love you so much." you blurt out, too afraid to say what you really wanted to.

"i know. i love you too." he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss then adding, "and i know you love her too."

"it's not–"

"it's okay." he assures you. "i'm not upset."

"you aren't?" you question, prepared for him to storm out and want nothing to do with you ever again.

"no."

without thinking, you completely collapse into his arms, so thankful for the man in front of you.

"i don't deserve you, logan." you whisper, kissing him gently.

"don't say that." he says sternly. "i'm just trying to give you everything you want in life."

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

hours later, natasha woke up. she could smell faint tobacco from somewhere in the house. it was enough to get her out of bed to see where it was coming from. in the living room, she found logan on the couch watching a western and smoking a cigar with his boots up on the coffee table. he didn't have to turn around to know that nat was there.

"she went to the grocery store to get something for dinner." he says nonchalantly answering the question in your head.

natasha hummed in response, keeping a distance from logan in case he decides to do something rash like fight her.

"you can sit down, you know?" he chuckles, blowing the smoke from his mouth. "i'm not gonna attack you or anything."

"i wouldn't blame you if you did." she remarks, picking the single chair in the living room to sit down at.

"the only way i would do that is if you decide to hurt her again." he states frankly, eyes glued to the television screen.

"i suppose that's fair; but i don't plan on it."

"good. she's practically a damn saint."

natasha smiles a little at his words.

"yeah, she is." she says. “i wish i hadn’t left her the way that i did but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

“why did you leave her there?”

“dreykov found out about us. he threatened to have her sold off somewhere to someone who would probably kill her or worse.” natasha’s voice was tiny for once. painfully reminding her of the past she tried to burry. “thought i made it easier by leaving. she doesn’t know it but i did try to go back for her. twice actually. once by myself and another time with my friend, clint. the first time, she didn’t recognize me. the second time, he ordered her to kill me. barely made it out alive."

logan remembered how after a couple of months dating, you opened up about your memory issues. constantly feeling like you were missing a piece of the puzzle that was your life from all the experiments. it’s one of the things that helped you two connect with each other.

“i’ve seen her kill with her bare hands. seen her tied to tables with needles injected into her until she was blue in the face and spitting up blood. she was one of his favorite’s. used to wake up to her screaming from the nightmares.”

“she still gets them sometimes.” logan mutters.

nastasha nods, wiping a tear away quickly.

“do you think she will ever forgive me?”

“i think so.”

“do you think i deserve it?”

“probably not,” he said honestly with a shrug. “but that’s not up to me.”

natasha appreciated his candor at least.

“she’s back.” logan said before she could even hear the car approaching.

logan got up to help you bring in the bags. once both of you are inside, you spot nat sitting in the living room awake.

"hey, whatcha doin’ awake already?” you ask.

"i haven’t been awake long.” she answers, getting up and joining you in the kitchen.

“i’m making pasta, hope that’s alright with you?”

“of course. want some help?”

you instruct her to boil the noodles while you prepare the sauce. the two of you stand close next to each other as nat watches over your shoulder.

"have you heard from yelena lately?" you ask, making small talk.

"no." nat's voice came out a whisper. "have you?"

"mhm." you hum, stirring the sauce. "she called a month ago, asked what i knew about these red vitals she was given."

"vitals?"

"yeah, i told her my memory isn't as good as it used to be."

natasha reaches over and lightly touches your ponytail, twirling the ends around her fingers to help ease you. that’s how she used to calm you down as teenagers, by playing with your hair. deep down you knew you shouldn’t look at her, not this close anyways. nat could smell your cherry perfume, over powering her senses. her plump lips tempted you, sending an ache down to your lower region. she watches you intensely, waiting for you to make a move and wanting you more than ever.

unbeknownst to either of you, logan knew what was going on. he could smell the need forming in your underwear, could practically hear natasha’s dirty thoughts about you. most boyfriends would feel threatened by this but logan was different. he worshipped the ground you walked on and he always valued your happiness. why would he deny you of the love you deserved?

"i-i'm gonna go grab some wine from the cellar." you stutter, leaving her there alone.

nat nods, walking back into the living room to breathe.

"you can kiss her, if she wants you too." logan says aloud, tapping off the end of his cigar on the ashtray next to him.

"you aren't just saying that so then you would have an excuse to try and kill me, are you?" she squints.

"she won't make the first move. too afraid that she'll hurt me." he replied, ignoring natasha's comment.

"you wouldn't care?" she questions.

"no."

"what if i wanted to do more than kiss her?"

"its up to her."

logan watches natasha's eyes cloud with lust at the thought. how could he fault her? you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in all 200+ years of his life. plus he would be lying in he said that he wouldn't find it hot to see you and natasha going at it.

"hey, is red okay?" you ask, holding a bottle up as you rounded the corner.

both logan and nat looked at you with these hungry looking eyes like you were their prey. logan's nostrils flare a little at the sweet scent.

"r-reds fine." nat stutters, her throat was dry at the thought of being back in between your thighs.

"cool, i'll get the glasses."

as you turn to leave, logan calls after you, "can you bring me a beer, sweetheart?"

"of course" you nod, obediently.

when you return, the three of you sit and watch the western playing for a few minutes until logan huffs loudly, sick of this tension and neither of you two doing anything about it.

"are you two gonna kiss 'n make up already, or what?" logan teases.

natasha and you find each others blown out gaze. both of you needed this. needing closure.

"fuck it." natasha mumbles to herself, getting up and coming over to you.

the redhead straddles you on the couch, caressing your jaw in her delicate palm. you nod your head, letting her know that you wanted this as much as she did. from her first taste of you, she knew it would be impossible to pull away.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

nat chases your plump kiss bitten red lips, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. your hands are up her shirt and under her bra, squeezing the soft flesh of her tits. rubbing your thumb over the blooming bud and listening to her pretty moans against your lips. she lays you down and strips herself of her clothes. you rush to do the same, wiggling out of your jeans.

behind nat, you see logan walk in with his beer in his hand and take a seat across from you in the corner. knowing that he's watching sent shivers down your spine. it wasn't until natasha grabbed your chin and squished your cheeks together that you realized you had been staring at logan.

"it's not his turn, it's mine." she taunts.

you nod your head and babble out an apology. she removes her grip on you only to lay down in between your thighs. a sight that you missed dearly.

"natty, please don't tease." you whine, arching at the soft kisses she trails inside of your thighs and hip bones, avoiding where you needed her most.

she smiles at the fact that your already shaking with anticipation. surprisingly, she looks over at logan.

"keep her legs spread for me, would ya'?" she asks.

he nods, already hard in his blue jeans. logan joins you two on the bed, sitting behind you and letting you rest comfortable against his chest. he places your legs over his to keep you open for natasha. she groans, sucking a dark plum bruise on your hipbone. meanwhile, logan's leaving similar marks on your neck and along your shoulder.

"please." you whine, wiggling your hips in her face. both natasha and logan can smell your arousal in the air. it's intoxicating.

"patients, baby." she scolds before licking a fat stripe over your clothed cunt.

"w-wanna feel you nat."

without hesitation, natasha tears the lacy material from your body and spreads you open. it's been years since she had last seen you in this position. she needs a moment to capture your angelic imagine.

"there's my girl." nat says, talking to your cunt. completely ignoring you and logan like you two aren't even in the room.

"isn't she a fuckin sight?" logan finally speaks up.

right as you open your mouth to beg her to do something, anything, she leaning in again to lick from your entrance up to your button.

"missed this pussy, принцесса..." nat says sloppily into your folds. "so wet for me."

"uh-uh." you moan, throwing your head back.

logan turns your chin to capture your lips, letting you moan freely into his mouth while his hands come up to massage your tits. fingers pinching and rolling the stiff buds in his palms.

natasha spends a while making out with your cunt; taking her time to savor the honey that pours from inside of you. she pulls back for a second to spit on your mound, letting it drip down before inserting her middle and ring finger. hers weren't nearly as thick as logan's but they are longer and still feel perfect in their own way. she watches how you and logan move together while she pumps in and out of you. for once, she didn't feel jealous of logan for having you. instead it made her heart swell to know that someone else loves you just as much as she does.

despite all the pleasure you felt, selfishly you wanted more. your right hand moves to intertwine itself into nat's red locks, pulling her head back to where you needed her most. her tongue swirled circles over your swollen bud, teasing it playfully. her fingers move faster inside of you as she grinds her clothed cunt against the mattress, moaning against your folds.

"ya' feel good, sweetheart?" logan asks, placing a soft kiss on your hairline.

"sooo good, lo." you purr, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

his low chuckle makes you clench down had on natasha's fingers. all that can be heard in the room are low moans and wet squelching noises. nat kitten licks your button until you reach your first high of the night.

too caught in euphoria to control your legs wrapping around her neck, squeezing her head with your thighs. your loud moans were barely audible to her at this moment. the red head could die happily right here, right now.

carefully, she pulls off of you.

"you did so good for me, принцесса." she praises, stroking your thighs.

as soon as natasha sits up, you reach out and kiss her, tasting yourself on her plump maroon lips. she melts into the kiss making it easy for you to flip her over on her back. logan gets up again, unbuckling his belt as he watches the two of you grind on each other in messy, uncoordinated movements.

"wish you could fuck me like old times, nat." you mumble, kissing her chest and leaving little love bites behind.

"i-i could..." she hesitates.

already ahead of her, logan's rummaging through her backpack and hold up a familiar contraption.

"lookin' for this, red?" he smirks, tossing the strap-on onto the bed next to her.

the last time nat wanted either of you two think is that she just dropped by to fuck you and leave but what can she say? she's prepared for anything.

"is this alright with you, pretty girl?" she asks you in between lightly nibbling on your pulse point while you grind your cunt against the soft skin of her abs.

natasha pulls back to look at you. her hand cradles your jaw, waiting for your answer.

"i need it natty." you nod. "need you inside of me."

those words make her blue eyes turn a stormy dark grey. in a rush, she puts it on and lets you line yourself up to the silicone. despite all the time apart, the two of you fell back into a seamless rhythm together. one of her hands rests on your hip, helping you move up and down while the other paws at your chest, rolling the stiff bud.

"uh-fuck." you whine, throwing your head back when she angles her hips up with a sharp snap.

"that's the spot, huh?" she smirks, watching your pretty face scrunch up as you try and focus.

weakly, you nod your head and babble something incoherent to both hers and logan's ears. it's not the same feeling that logan gives you obviously but the way natasha's fucking up into you makes you feel just as good.

logan makes his way over to you, palming his boxer covered cock as he leans down to make out with you. willingly, giving in as his tongue explores your mouth messily with a hand in your hair. natasha uses this to her advantage, bringing her thumb up to your clit and circle it slowly in contrast to the jolts of her hips hitting yours. logan swallows every little moan that spills from your plump lips.

" 'm so close, natty." you whimper, tears in your waterline as logan's sucks on your pulse point.

"is that so, baby?" she mocks with a light roll of her hips.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, bouncing faster to chase your high.

natasha and logan were both wishing that they could feel you clenching around them instead of the silicone.

logan's big rough hands help you bounce in rhythm as soon as he sees your movements slow down.

"c'mon, princess." logan groans in your ear. "we wanna see you fall apart for us."

"cum for us, sweet girl." natasha purrs, sitting up to suck on your tit and picking up speed with her thumb.

that's all it takes for you to release on top of nat, hips shaking violently while you leaked all over her lap. eyes screwed shut, stars coming into vision as you try to calm yourself down again. it just felt so good to feel the contrasts between her and logan when they fuck you.

carefully, logan picks you up off of natasha's strap. she takes it off and throws it aside, watching logan help you recover.

"don't ya' think natasha deserves something too for how good she's made you feel, princess?" logan asks you.

"mhm." you nod, crawling in between her legs. "wanna thank you properly, natty."

natasha thinks she might cum just from looking at your big doe eyes in between her thighs. you play flat on your stomach, kissing the plush soft skin. her hips wiggle impatiently in your face. the sweet smell of her arousal reminded you of all the other intimate moments the two of you have shared. within seconds, you're ripping off her lacy black panties and tossing them somewhere to the side of the bed.

"so fuckin' pretty 'n so wet." you mumble to yourself as you pull her fold apart, watching her slick drip from her entrance. "is this all for me?"

"o-only for you, baby." she says with a shaky breath.

you lean forward licking a strip from her entrance to her button. your hands wrap under her thighs and pull her tight against your face, letting her use you however she wanted. natasha grinds down on your tongue, moaning when your nose occasionally bumping her clit. she taste sweeter than any other times you've buried your tongue inside of her.

"love how good your tongue feels, baby." she moans, brushing your hair out of your face.

mind fully focused on nat that you don't even register logan shifting around behind you, running his tip up and down your pussy. lightly slapping your clit before thrusting inside of you. his cock stretches you deliciously, making you moan against natasha's cunt. her fingers pulls a bit at your hair from the vibrations. it's always a struggle to get him to fit inside of you.

"tightest pussy in the fuckin' world, i swear." he mumbles to himself, watching you swallow him whole.

logan's thrusts start to increase as he paws at the flesh of your ass. his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, making it hard for you to keep your mouth around nat. your forehead pressed against her thigh while you try to concentrate, licking your fingers and inserting them into natasha's tight warm cunt.

"fuck!" nat moans, clenching around your two fingers as they reach that spongey spot deep inside of her. "faster, принцесса. wanna cum for you."

her dirty words sent you into a frenzy. using all of your strength left to make her gush. the noises were so lewd it made your head spin. her back arches and soft moans fall from her lips as she tugs on your hair. like a faucet, she's leaking all over your hand, your face, and down on yours and logan's shared sheets.

behind you, logan is too busy trying not to cum inside of you too soon. he's gripping your hips so hard you know that there will be bruising left behind. every now and then you can hear him grunting and smack the fat of your ass, watching as it bounces back at him. the pleasure builds in your tummy. logan's hand snakes under you to rub at your clit.

"f-faster, lo." you whimper, lifting your mouth off of natasha for a second.

"i gotcha, princess." he groans, doing so.

within seconds, you release all over him. the string of moans vibrate against nat's core, overstimulating her until she cums again, soaking your face entirely. logan doesn't last much longer either. he paints your walls white and keeps you stuffed with his cum, only pulling out when it starts to sting a little.

the three of you are quiet for a moment, needing time to recover. who would've thought that two russia assassins and a mutant would need time to recover from anything, let alone sex.

logan's the first to move, going to bring towels and some water. you rest your head on natasha's stomach, she runs her nails against your scalp the same way she would when you woke up from nightmares. a tear rolls down your cheek, thinking about her running away again.

"what's wrong, принцесса?" she whispers, hearing you soft cry.

"just dreading you leaving again." you mutter, afraid to look up at her.

"hey, i'll be here as long as you want me here." she says, lifting your chin up.

"tasha, someone needs to save those girls. dreykov won't stop until someone comes after him."

there's a long pause of silence before she says anything again. her eyes glued to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"you know, i used to picture a simple life for the two of us. something similar to this actually, minus the grumpy looking man in the kitchen. i wanted to give you a piece of normalcy but i kept running away, afraid i was the one putting you in harms way." she sighs shakily. "i shouldn't have ran. i should've come back. there's so much i couldn't give you but i see that logan can do that for you."

"look, i love logan more than anything but why can't we make it work too?" your question makes both natasha and logan pause, as he returns into the bedroom.

natasha looks up at logan, ready for him to finally yell and kick her out. especially now that she's coming between the two of you. instead he's looking over at you with a spark of love in his gaze.

"i don't think logan would appreciate sharing you full time." she says, avoiding your wide eyed stare.

"i just want my girl to be happy." he responds, lighting another cigar. "think she would be happier with both of us, red."

the time has never been right for you and natasha but who says it needs to be? she's finally back in your life again and you can't risk letting her go again.

"we will help you track down yelena and fight with you to free those girls from the redroom but i want you here with us, natty. please don't go again."

she finally looks down at you and her heart melts. how would she be able to leave you again? not after today. this is where her heart lied, here with you.

"of course, i'll stay принцесса."

[soaringwide]

PAC: How to enhance your personal allure and beauty? • Glamour Reading

This reading is meant to dive into your own personal glamour and find ways to magnify the way you appear to others, privately or publicly.

Beauty is about weaving illusions in some ways, but the best lies contain a part of truth. How to weave lies and truths to enhance your expression of beauty is what I'm going to try to uncover today, which is why we're going to look both at your natural abilities and untapped potential.

It's something I've wanted to do for a long time since it's a subject that fascinates me, and wanted to test it out in a tarot spread, so a pick a pile readings seems like a good starting point.

If you'd like a personal reading, I'm in the process of opening my website but in the meantime I'm available through DMs.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not apply 100% to you. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 1

Cards: The Hanged Man, Death, The Chariot, Knight of Cups, The Fool, 7 of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I see someone with a strong, magnetic presence that might be intimidating to some people, giving the vibe of someone who is confident and knows what impression they want to give off. You have a very deliberate style and strong personal allure that might lean into darker types of aesthetic, but it would definitely be ornate, romantic (in the true, dramatic sense of the word) and as far away from minimalism as possible. I see you choosing little elements that others might not notice but that are full of meaning and symbolism for you, like a piece of jewellery, or swapping the color of your shoelace or socks to fit into a vision you have in your head. Wearing hats or headpieces might also be something significant for you. You see your clothes and other visual upgrades as some type of armor you wear to feel stronger, more confident, and make a great impression on people around you. You like being noticed and want people to find you beautiful or stylish, but at the same time have very little regard for established rules and like to bring a twist of change in the way you appear to others. It's like you're already practicing glamour naturally, funnily enough, because I see you magnifying your natural talents already and you definitely are shrouded in some type of glamourized, attractive mystery.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from to push yourself even further, i see you as someone who embodies the characteristics of going against expectations when it comes to style and appearances. I get the idea of playing around with gender expression (might not apply to all or be applicable to varying degrees), going against what's commonly assumed to be fitting for your perceived gender to create something unique and different, but it could also simply be about going against common taste. It's about carving out your own path, inspired by yourself and your unique perspective on life, and by extension, on your style and appearance. This is not someone who follows trends and style guides mindlessly, but someone who is not afraid of calling everything into question, in order to incorporate what they choose and add their own unique flair to it. Taste is subjective and it's something you can learn to lean even more into.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see strong Uranus influence, which was already highlighted in your ideal archetypal influence.

There is an elements to finding joy and pleasure in shocking others a little bit. Letting yourself be completely free with your style expression, but keeping personal enjoyment in mind. The goal is not to shock for the sake of being an obnoxious eccentric, but going to the core of what makes you feel empowered and free and fining the graceful pleasure in it. There is also the idea of weaving some type of illusion so that people can never guess what you're going to do next. I think you have an untapped natural talent for manipulating how others see you a little bit. Right now you focus on your personal magnetism, but you could push that even further and endow yourself in whatever illusion you see fit for the time or situation. I see you being able to work on your appearance like a beautiful work of art, following the vision you have in mind.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all, it seems that despite all the great things I said about you, deep down, you feel quite inadequate and vulnerable, which is perhaps why you put so much effort into your ''armor''. I've got to tell you that these doubts are only in your mind and that the powers I describe are felt very strongly by others, they might just never say it or only give you a light compliment, which you don't even take into account. You seem to keep these worry very private and assume everyone can sense that when it's not the case. So yeah I definitely see you are already doing sooo much but it's just in your mind you don't see it, which is the first thing you need to focus on. Because I think that these doubts might influence your stylistic choices to some extent, which would be self-sabotaging your natural and ideal strengths. Therefore, you first need to clear out these thoughts and hurts in order to see yourself as others see you, in your highest potential.

Secondly and once you've done that, you definitely are advised to invest further in your appearance, and by that it could be money but also time, effort and energy. I feel like there is a new direction that is available to you, perhaps to switch things up a little or express some things more intensely. In both cases, the very strong message is to be deliberate in your vision and keep your eyes on this. I think you already do it to some extent, but here we're talking about Glamour, glamour, like, it's not enough to pick a pair of earrings or the color of your top, you need to focus on what it is the impact you want to have on others is, and how to best achieve that, keeping in mind the strong Uranian influences about being your own Icon and breaking boundaries along the way. Really, the next step involves planning and deliberate steps. Don't just throw whatever in your cart but be mindful of what story it's telling and if it aligns with your vision.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 2

Cards: Queen of Cups, 8 of Swords, The Star, The World, The Lovers, The High Priestess, Knight of Cups, The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, 9 of Cups

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

What's actually really interesting is that there seem to be an opposition between constriction vs liberation, as embodied by Saturn in Aquarius qualities. It seems being in touch with your imagination and ideals is natural to you, you appear dreamy but in a melancholic way, a loner that people don't approach easily. People might get the sense that you are lost in your thoughts and that something else is taking your attention. You don't project a strong sun-like charisma, but rather, charm people when they get close to you and get a feel for your rich inner world. You are very authentic in the way you approach your appearance, as in, you don't seek to appear as someone you are not, up to a fault I'd say. Like, if you don't hold a high opinion of yourself that might stop you from dressing how you like because it doesn't feel true in some way. It's also like you feel constricted when you have to follow a dress code and would rather be able to wear whatever puts you at ease in the given situation, but then again it's a problem is you feel weak or stuck because it influences your choices. On top of that, I'm again getting strong ideals, so I would not be surprised if your social or political ideals influence the way your present yourself. Perhaps you have an inclination towards sustainable fashion or cruelty free beauty and it helps you feel more aligned with your inner world.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you can draw inspiration from revolves around the idea to let your idealistic and creative nature run free, like the waves on the ocean's shore. This hints at a poetic approach to your style and appearance, with the desire to evoke gentle feelings. Your archetypal beauty is one of a siren, enchanting and mysterious. You might benefit from beautifully ornate jewelry, nacre, pearls and shells come to mind, and I'm also getting renaissance inspired aesthetic like cherubs imagery and dramatic silhouettes, rosy cheeks and braided hairstyles. The ocean is wide and mysterious, fascinating and unknowable, and that's definitely an allure you can harness at your highest potential. Even in that configuration, you're still highly focused on your inner world but it appears on the outside as well.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I see a few messages.

The thing is that, despite the saturnine influences, you do have raw potential for a more radiant and inviting, shall we say, energy to you. With the Lovers which is connected to Gemini, you can really learn to actually express your rich inner world and come across as communicative and adaptable regardless of the social situation. Balancing out the coldness with warmth and being more inviting if you will. Someone people can't stop looking at, which implies you actually have to get out of your comfort zone and accept being seen by others.

Paired with you natural characteristics, this has the potential to increase your magnetism and make you mysteriously seductive because people will tap into both layers, sensing an inviting and charming first impression but also getting a feel of your deep inner world. There is also the potential to truly express your emotions through your clothes and appearance and thus sticking true to your desire for authenticity. Don't shy away from being creative and even artistic with your appearance. You have a natural inclination toward romantic styles and flowyness (sheer fabrics or silk-like textures) which can make you stand out in a crowd. Approach your style like a dream, something that is felt intensely and that you can get lost in. Play around with color combinations, and I would suggest having fun creating color palettes that evoke specific feelings rather than being minimal because you want to blend in. You can really project a striking vibe with your newfound confidence, with the help of your clothes and beauty care.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, here is what I see.

First of all there is a need to change you ways drastically. As we saw, there seem to be an opposition with how people currently see you vs what your potential is. Don't get me wrong, everything is present within you but it's like it's dormant. I sense you being somewhat stuck in your routine and stylistic habits and reluctant to change anything. You are being called to step up and take actions toward change. Dare to wear what makes you feel like your creative and dreamy self. You know yourself well but if you truly want to change the way people see you you have to take deliberate actions towards that. Not by wearing what you think people want but by going to the highest vision you have of yourself.

You would also benefit greatly from a more optimistic outlook on yourself and learn to communicate happiness, ease and expansion. Be more generous with your energy, which means that you don't have to hold everything in in fear of being judged or disliked, but rather learning to stand strong in your individuality and communicate it to others. Not everyone will like it obviously but those who do will be enchanted by your presence.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

PILE 3

Cards: Ace of Cups, The Magician, 3 of Pentacles, The Hermit, 9 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles, King of Cups rx, the Fool, 7 of Cups, 3 of Swords

First, let's look into your natural beauty and talents, if you will. This is easy to tap into and you might already do it to some extent, and is what people perceive from you at first glance.

I get strong Mercury qualities when it comes to how you naturally appear to others. You manage to seduce others with your quick wit and knowledge on many different subjects. It's like, there is nothing you don't have a smart or funny opinion on and people love that about you. You are highly intellectual and I think you like mirroring that in your appearance, favoring established aesthetics and proven formulas, relaying more on your personality than your clothes so to speak. And if clothes you chooses to put the accent on, I see a more traditional and refined approach. Modest and put together. You are meticulous in your choices and don't like appearing messy. Nothing comes in excess, you pay attention to color and texture harmony and like a balanced, classic look. As a result you appear serious and put together to others.

When it comes to your ideal archetypal beauty, what you could embody when pushed to your highest degree, with the Ace of Cups, it is quite abstract than a given aesthetic. I see you having the power to initiate strong positive emotions towards others. Perhaps they admire you or have fond feelings for you, or they may fall in love or become friends with you easily. You make them feel easily connected to you by you presence and allure, you energy having that color that drives people in. It's like, a very friendly and gently type of charisma.

Now, for the untapped qualities, or raw power you can learn to incorporate, I'm not sure why but I feel a strong rag to riches vibe here. As in, it is possible that you have experienced mental and financial hardship in the past, a situation might have improved to some extent, but that probably isn't fixed completely yet. That left you scarred and you try your best to hide it, which is why it's in the raw power position. I see the potential to use that as a strength to add depth to your character. With the King of Cups reversed, you feel inadequate and undeserving. I'm getting the sense that when it comes to glamour, you can fake it till you make it so to speak. Don't forget we are talking about magnifying your allure and I think there's definitely an air of like, you know who you are and you are aware of your situation, but you don't want to appear that way to others. It's strange because for all pile I got strong impression and aesthetics here, but for you it looks more like something that's dragging you down, which means there's a potential to turn it into a strength in some way. You got the Ace of Cups as ideal archetype and the King of Cups is nothing but the Lord of this Ace, so if you manage to flip it you can embody its quality and empathetic, abundant authority and trigger positive feelings in others. There is also this idea that, even when you make that shift, you won't forget where you come from and will keep being highly empathetic and kind, and that will be part of your charm.

For how you can magnify everything I mentioned, I notice a strong idea of starting fresh and stepping away from the heartache that plagues you. There is a youthful carelessness to it as well, the idea of opening yourself to the world and see the richness you have within with your larger than life personality. You would benefit from letting that aspect of you loose a bit. You are a bit chaotic at heart and this is so so endearing to many.

Furthermore, don't get too focused on glimmers, as all that shines is not gold. I think you may have a tendency to seek material things to counter or hide your difficulties with money, but here it's all about character expression when it comes to charm people. But be mindful of how you interact with others as to not to appear aloof or unapproachable.

If you liked the reading and want to tip me, I have a ko-fi.

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on an emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can watch it with you.”

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

"Just that?

"Yes..."

"No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you know what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also watch the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cellphone to check the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, idiot.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

Momo kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 10

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Feeling the tension rise, Greg nervously tried to leave, but you stepped in. “Don’t!”

“Yes…?” Greg’s voice wavered.

“Don’t tell them I’m pregnant. Because I’m not. I can’t lie about that.” You rubbed your temples, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in on you, even though it was still early in the morning.

You shot a glance at Greg. “Schedule a press conference. Both of us will speak.”

Greg nodded rapidly. “Yes. Yes, that’s great.” He scurried out of the apartment without a second thought.

Bucky muttered under his breath, “I paid millions for this campaign team, and this is what I get.”

You snapped back at him. “No! Don’t change the subject!” Your voice was sharp, frustration burning in your eyes. “All of this is your idea.”

Bucky didn’t flinch, his calm demeanor frustrating you further. “My idea, yes. But it’s your choice now,” he replied, as if everything was calculated in his favor.

“Me? Lying about being pregnant? Have some humility, Bucky!” You threw your hands up in disbelief.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, calculating smile. “I’m proud of you for making that decision,” he said smoothly, as if this was some twisted game he’d already won. His calmness was unnerving, like he already knew the outcome.

You sighed deeply, your breath heavy with exasperation. Bucky casually walked over to the coffee machine and offered you a cup. You took it, reluctant but exhausted. When you sipped, the familiar taste made you pause. It was perfect—exactly how you liked it. He still remembered.

But even the perfect coffee couldn’t wash away the bitterness and exhaustion hanging over you like a dark cloud.

You set the cup down and looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “What’s the deal you made with Steve?” The question hung in the air, sharp and deliberate, like a card you were waiting to play.

Bucky leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “The deal?” He sipped his own coffee, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—calculation, maybe? “Let’s just say... Steve’s skeletons are a lot messier than mine. I was always just the distraction.”

There was something chilling in the way he spoke, like he was always one step ahead. You realized then—you were in deeper than you thought.

Bucky took a slow sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. His gaze stayed sharp, his voice deliberate. “The reason he chose me is simple. I’m the gatekeeper. Let’s be real, picking me as the youngest candidate? That’s a huge risk.”

The opponent was formidable—strong, relentless, and hungry for any opportunity to exploit weakness. So, what other option was there?

Bucky was the safest choice, not just because of his background, but because he held Steve’s deepest secrets—truths that couldn’t be silenced with money or threats. Bucky came from wealth, from power, from a lineage that made him untouchable. Steve knew that. He also knew something else: Bucky’s weakness was you.

Despite the disagreements within the party, Steve silenced the dissenters. He’d calculated every move. Choosing Bucky was risky, but Steve needed someone he could control, someone who could take the fall if necessary.

Bucky knew why he was chosen. He understood the game—Steve, the elder statesman, needed a younger face to shield him from the inevitable attacks. Bucky was to be his defense, the gatekeeper, the distraction.

The rumors about you and Bucky were intentional, designed to take the heat off Steve. Let the world believe Bucky was struggling in his personal life. Let them focus on his public spectacle while Steve worked in the shadows, untouchable.

Edgar and Brock—the opponents—would see the headlines and think Steve had been weakened by Bucky’s scandal. But they were wrong. This was the plan all along.

Bucky would take the blame. He would absorb the media’s attention, while Steve quietly solidified his path to the presidency.

For Bucky, it was more than a political maneuver. Accepting Steve's offer wasn’t just about power—it was his chance to break free from the chains his mother had shackled him with. And it was his chance to get you back.

He knew Steve had calculated his every move, and yet, Bucky had his own agenda. In the end, he wasn’t just a pawn in Steve’s game; he was playing his own, too.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “This is why I never wanted to cover elections. Everything is rigged.”

Bucky chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. “That’s politics for you, sweetheart. It’s not about being clean—it’s about playing the game better than everyone else.”

You shifted, suddenly feeling the urge to get answers. “What about Steve’s skeletons?” you asked, your voice edged with curiosity.

Bucky had just picked up a chocolate muffin, but he stopped mid-bite. Setting it down, he met your gaze, dead serious. “I’m the only one who knows,” he said quietly. “I can’t tell you. I’ll carry those secrets to my grave.”

His loyalty to Steve was unsettling, a bond you could see ran deep.

“And don’t even think about digging for information,” Bucky warned, his voice firm, eyes hardening. “You’ll put both of us in danger if you try.”

The finality in his tone hit you like a wall. He was serious, and it was clear that stepping into that territory wasn’t just risky—it was deadly.

“Bucky,” you said softly, your voice filled with exhaustion.

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up from his phone, his attention split.

“If I can’t do this anymore... I want to leave.”

The silence that followed was thick. Bucky didn’t respond immediately, didn’t even look up at you. Instead, he remained still, his fingers lightly tapping against his phone. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and measured. “Get ready for the press.”

You sighed heavily, frustration and defeat settling into your chest like a heavy weight. Leave? Could you even escape at this point?

The thought circled in your mind, but Bucky had already made it clear—he wasn’t letting you go that easily. His control, his manipulation—it had all tightened around you like a noose.

And despite everything, despite the lies, the secrets, the betrayal... you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t plan to lose you again.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Soon, you stood next to him in front of a swarm of cameras, bright lights burning into your skin.

Bucky adjusted his suit jacket, offering a polite smile to the flashing lights. He stepped up to the podium, and as soon as he began speaking, it was as if a switch had flipped. The man beside you was no longer just your husband—he had become the perfect politician.

“I want to thank you all for coming here today,” Bucky began, his voice smooth, confident. His gaze swept across the audience, calculated and calm. “Marriage is never easy. It's a journey filled with highs and lows, and like any relationship, it can face... turmoil.”

The word hung in the air, a subtle indication of the cracks beneath the surface.

“Over the last few years, my wife and I have faced our share of challenges. We chose to take separate paths for a time, not because the love was lost, but because we believed it was what we needed. We both needed space to grow as individuals,” he said, pausing to glance at you.

You stood there, silent, watching him weave this narrative so effortlessly. Seeing him like this—so fluent, so convincing—it was almost sickening. He was lying, and yet every word that came from his mouth seemed to be wrapped in a veneer of truth.

“But sometimes,” he continued, “fate brings people back together. We crossed paths again, and in doing so, we rekindled that old romance we once shared. This has not been an easy journey, but we both realized that our love—despite everything—was worth fighting for.”

You forced yourself to stay composed, even as your mind raced. How had he become this person? So skilled in deception, so willing to put on a performance for the world. This wasn’t the man you had married.

This was a man molded by ambition, by politics. He had learned to manipulate truth, to twist it to his advantage. And now, he was using that skill to reshape the story of your marriage.

He went on, his tone softening just enough to appeal to the emotions of the audience. “I know many young couples out there experience similar struggles—times when things seem too difficult to overcome. But I stand here today to tell you that it’s possible. Love is complicated, but it’s also worth the fight.”

The live chat on the screen buzzed with comments, many of them expressing support, calling your relationship ‘inspiring,’ applauding your ‘courage.’ They were buying it. Every single word.

Bucky turned to you, offering a practiced smile. To them, it was a look of adoration. To you, it was a silent warning. Stay in line. Play your part.

As Bucky wrapped up his speech, the room filled with the sound of reporters typing, cameras flashing, and the quiet hum of people whispering. His words had been perfectly delivered—calm, composed, and persuasive. But it was the next moment that truly sealed the deal.

He turned toward you, and for a brief second, his eyes met yours. You could see the flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or exhaustion. But before you could fully process it, he stepped closer. The cameras zoomed in, the world seemed to hold its breath, and Bucky pulled you into a tight embrace.

His hands rested on your waist, steady, as though he were trying to ground himself. You stiffened at first, the tension between you impossible to ignore, but the weight of the press watching forced you to respond. Slowly, you lifted your arms and hugged him back, trying to make it look as natural as possible.

Then, without warning, his lips brushed against yours. A kiss, soft but purposeful, meant to sell the image of a couple rekindling their love. The cameras went wild, and you could feel every flash burning the moment into eternity. But beneath the act, you could sense the hollowness of it all.

"Still think we’re good at pretending?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bucky’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Maybe it’s not all pretending."

You stayed locked in his arms for a moment longer, both of you playing your roles. To everyone watching, you were the perfect couple, finding your way back to each other. But to you, it felt like a performance—one more layer of the deception you both had to endure.

And yet, for all the pretending, there was an undeniable truth beneath it. The way Bucky held you tighter, as if he needed that connection to steady himself, made it clear. He wasn’t just showing the world something—they both needed this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once the press conference ended, you felt drained—emotionally and physically. As you walked off the stage, Bucky’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.

“Steve,” he greeted, his voice low. You stood beside him, listening quietly.

“Didn’t expect it to go this well,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line. “Good job. I was hoping you could drag this out for a few more days, though.”

Bucky leaned against the table, his tone casual but firm. “I couldn’t do that. My wife’s already pissed about this. I’m not pushing her any further.” His eyes flicked to you as he spoke, his face unreadable.

There was a pause on the other end. Then Steve’s voice came again, smoother this time. “Still, you handled it well. Let’s hope the media stays focused on you two and not... anything else.”

Bucky smirked, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “They will. This whole mess? It’s just a distraction, Steve. You know that.”

Steve chuckled lightly. “I’m counting on it.”

Bucky ended the call without another word, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He turned to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “See? Everything’s under control.” He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm, but you pulled away.

Control. That’s what it was always about with him. And for now, he had it. But for how long?

You noticed something you hadn’t before—Bucky’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense, and his grip on the phone was tighter than usual. His usual confident façade seemed to falter, even if just for a moment. He looked... uneasy.

You had never seen him like this, not even during the press conference. Something about that call with Steve had rattled him. The way his eyes darkened, how his fingers twitched slightly as if restraining himself from saying more—it was a side of him you rarely witnessed.

And in that fleeting moment, you understood. It wasn’t just you who felt trapped in this web of lies and manipulation. It was Bucky, too. For all his calm demeanor, all his calculated moves, he was just as cornered.

He wasn’t in control like he wanted you to believe.

For the first time, you realized that Bucky wasn’t just pulling the strings—he was tangled in them. Just as trapped as you, if not more so. The weight of Steve’s power over him, the pressure of the campaign, the expectations, the secrets—it was all bearing down on him, too.

And in a strange, twisted way, it made him seem... vulnerable.

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