#glad people have been enjoying the discussion

[beloveds-embrace]

dukedom!AU but they realize she’s quickly become a type of ‘peoples princess’ outside the duchy

The timeline for this one is before reader tells john her request! I got this ask before part two dropped and already had some of it written. Hope you enjoy, anon! <3

Dukedome au masterlist

I can imagine them realizing it not from seeing it, but from hearing it, maybe during a gala hosted by John and uou. The evening is alive with music and laughter, the grand ballroom brimming with nobles and dignitaries. Yet the chatter revolve around one figure: you.

“She’s truly remarkable, isn’t she?” one elderly countess says, her voice carrying across the marble floors and gleaming ceilings. “Always so graceful, so kind. I am quite glad she is Duchess Price, now.”

John stands near the refreshments table with Simon, and overhears the conversation. His hand tightens slightly around his glass, though his face betrays nothing. Nothing new to be talked about, it was natural. And yet-

“Graceful?” a younger lady chimes in, voice calm and polite. “She’s more than that. Did you hear she personally visited the orphanage last week? Brought food and clothing, spoke to every child. And not for show- she refused to let any journalists near. That’s a true duchess.”

Simon’s brows furrows slightly, his jaw tightening. He exchanges a glance with John, the unspoken thought between them clear: she hadn’t told either of them about that visit. It wasn’t because John didn’t trust you, or that you need his permission; he just wanted to be aware of where you go and which guards you’ll take. For your own safety.

“She’s so approachable too,” a lord adds, gesturing with his wine glass. John knows this lord, he always ends up drinking too much and being too handsy. Why would you need to speak to him? “I spoke to her briefly earlier- she didn’t just listen, she cared. You can see it in her eyes. It’s no wonder the people adore her.”

Adore is putting it way too lightly.

From the other side of the room, Kyle watches as a small group of maids gossip near the staircase. He wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but their excitement is hard to ignore.

“I heard she gave her own jewelry to the head maid’s daughter to help her pay for her dowry.” One of them whispers, clutching her tray.

“That’s not all,” another group are speaking, talking about her as well. “The market vendors say she always pays more than is needed, even when they insist she doesn’t do. Such a lovely woman.”

“Wish the other nobles were like her,” the first maid says with a wistful sigh. “She’s the only one who treats us like people.”

Kyle’s lips press into a thin line as he adjusts his gloves. He prides himself on protecting you, but hearing how far your kindness extends fills him with a quiet sense of urgency. What if someone takes advantage of you and your tender heart?

It’s not just in the main hall that these words are said; down in the kitchens, Johnny is busy ensuring there’s enough food with the rest of the chefs. But still, he can hear two others talking while they work, trying not to sound too snappy or angry while he listens in on them.

As the night continues, the men find themselves more and more aware of how often your name arises in conversation. They hear nobles discussing your fashion choices (Simon secretly preens), others whispering about your visits to the poorer parts of town and the funds that have been allocated into revitalizing the areas, and even rival duchesses grudgingly admitting that you’ve set quite the high standard.

“I heard she stopped Lord Clinton from evicting his tenants,” one man says near the dance floor, though not quite close enough to be drawn into the dancing bodies. He is within John and Simon’s earshots.

“Not only that,” someone else “whispers”. “She made sure they had food and shelter through the winter. commoners love her, and she truly embodies what it means to be a noble. A true people’s princess, I say.”

John’s gaze flickers toward you, standing across the room and laughing softly with a group of nobles. You’re glowing tonight, the light catching in your hair and your smile as warm as ever, adorned in a beautiful dress.

“They don’t deserve her,” Kyle mutters, sidling up to him while holding a plate of finger foods.

John doesn’t respond, but his grip on his glass tightens again. It’s a wonder the glass hasn’t broken et.

Simon’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “The people see her as theirs.” He pauses, his gaze hardening. “But she’s ours first.”

“I cannot blame them.” John sighs. “She is the perfect duchess. But she is also my duchess, and they seem to have forgotten that.”

John means his words, and he knows his men agree with him. The world may love you, but they know the truth: no one else can have you- not the people, not the nobles, no one but them.

The ballroom continues to buzz with conversation, and John focuses back on the two men near the edge of the dance floor.

“She’s wasted on a duchy,” one of them says, swirling his wine with a smirk, more than just a little drunk. “With her charm, she could outshine the Queen herself.”

“Not just charm,” the other adds in, just as drunk. “But Influence.”

Simon stiffens, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Influence” isn’t something he takes lightly when it comes to you. It’s a dangerous thing in the wrong hands- or with the wrong admirers.

“Careful,” John mutters to him. “They’re complimenting her, not threatening her.”

Simon’s glare softens ever so slightly. “Yet.”

Johnny slowly makes his way towards a hidden corner of the ballroom, gnawing on his lips as he listens to the whispers of you.

Did you see the way she stopped to speak with the gardeners?” one of them asks. “She even complimented the hedges I trimmed last week!”

Johnny’s grin fades, his fingers drumming against his thigh. He enjoys seeing people appreciate you, but this feels different. They speak of you with reverence, as if you’re some untouchable figure. But Johnny knows better. You’re no untouchable goddess- you’re his. Theirs. That’s what matters most.

It’s when you step onto the dance floor that the tension truly rises. A duke- one who’s been eyeing you all evening- approaches you with a bow, extending his hand for a dance. You hesitate, glancing toward John out of instinct. He doesn’t move, but his eyes darken, his jaw clenched as he watches you take the duke’s hand.

The music swells and you move across the floor, laughter bubbles from your lips at something your dance partner says. The men see it for what it is: polite, nothing more. But it doesn’t stop the knot of irritation tightening even further.

“She’s a vision,” someone murmurs nearby, unaware they’re being overheard.

“Who wouldn’t fall for her?” another replies.

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

Kyle’s gaze sharpens. Johnny’s grin vanishes completely. Simon’s fists clench at his sides. And John, ever composed, finishes his wine in one long swallow, his eyes never leaving you.

He can’t allow this to go on for any longer.

The dance ends, and as you return to the edge of the ballroom, you’re immediately surrounded by more admirers- ladies complimenting your gown, lords vying for your attention. Or would have been, if John hadn’t started making his way towards you, presence larger than life.

“Your Grace,” he says smoothly, and extends his hand to you, his expression unreadable. “Dance with me.”

The request- or rather, the command- is met with stunned silence. The nobles exchange glances, but a single glance from John keeps them all silent.

You blink up at him, momentarily caught off guard, before placing your hand in his. “Of course.” you murmur softly.

John’s grip is firm but gentle as he leads you to the dance floor, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. The orchestra begins a soft waltz, and he pulls you into the first step, his movements confident and assured.

Around you, the crowd watches, whispers starting anew, though you barely notice. All you can focus on is the intensity in John’s eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’ve been busy tonight.” he says after a moment, his voice low enough that only you can hear. It sends a shiver up your spine- his voice always so nice to hear.

“It’s my role,” you reply, offering him a small smile. “Everyone has been so kind.”

He hums, his eyes flicking briefly to the onlookers before returning to you. “Too kind, perhaps.”

You raise an eyebrow at his tone but say nothing, letting him guide you across the floor. His hand tightens slightly at your waist, and he pulls you even more closer.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Better than I expected, if I’m honest. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. You always seem to surprise me, my dear.”

Your cheeks warm at the unexpected praise, and you smile up at him. “Thank you, John. That means a great deal.”

He leans in just slightly, his breath ghosting over your ear. “The way they look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower. “They can’t take their eyes off you. And I don’t blame them.”

You glance up at him, startled, but his expression is unreadable once again. He continues to lead you effortlessly through the dance, his movements precise.

“But,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “they’ll have to remember who you belong to.”

Your heart skips at his words, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His eyes soften, his grip steady as he twirls you into the final steps of the dance.

As the music fades, he leans in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re exquisite tonight, wife. Don’t let them forget it.”

With that, he leads you off the dance floor, his hand never leaving yours. The crowd parts for the both of you, their gazes following you both as John guides you back to the edge of the room, where the others wait.

You’re still breathless, his words replaying in your mind as he steps aside, positioning himself at your shoulder. Whatever protests the nobles might’ve had about your absence dissolve under his watchful glare.

And though John doesn’t say another word for the rest of the evening, his presence alone is enough to ensure no one dares to crowd you again, and no one comes between you and them. Simon and Kyle keep you busy, chatting happily with them, and Johnny joins later when the guests begin to trickle out and no one would question why a chef is there.

People’s princess you maybe, you are still theirs. John simply had to show and remind everyone of that fact.

[faiell]

I don't have much to add. OK well I lied I have 2 things, semi-related, just in addition, not really making a point for or against anything that was said.

I don't think it's been brought up yet, and sorry if this is like, too blunt or snobbish, but. I'll just say it. This is personal experience, but being a person with nice stats makes forming connections in community easier. Why? Well, just because if people have heard of you, and are familiar with your work or your blog, you can be much more confident to take that first step and reach out to someone, whether it's via DMs or askbox or whatever. And yeah this is something that readers don't usually have access to, which sucks. I mean, I think people should just reach out and talk to each other anyway. I'm for sure not going to treat anyone differently based on whether they've written fanfiction, much less well-read fanfiction lol, that sounds ridiculous. But being an artist whose art gets shared does make it easier for me to have the confidence to go bouncing into other people's messages the way I do.

I don't think fandom community, as a whole, is dying, or even close to death. Buuut there are definitely fandoms out there that are pretty dead, even for very well-known ships for well-known series, and if you're into a rare-pair... it can be very lonely. And in those situations, I just want to yell that stats literally don't matter. Those 10 kudos across an entire pairing aren't gonna feed the family, yanno? What matters is, if you're looking for connection over a rarepair, you've gotta be loud and bold, and never shut up about them until you find the people who have also been trying to hear your yelling over all the other noise.

feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/26

To lighten the daily read load but still ensure I get to everyone, i will be reading on 1 Riize member daily, and Seunfhan every other day or just if something with him shifts significantly. I will do Riize collective reads every other day that I'm not doing a Seunghan Read. So today it is Seunghan + Sohee and then an SM read i found in my asks. Tmw it will be Riize collective + Any other member + something relevant to current topics or asks. Hope that makes sense.

Seunghan

Knight of Chalices + King of Wands + 6 of Wands

Honestly bro is just chilling right now...lowkey this is his card when he is at his most neutral/leaning positive state. Very charming very vibey. He seems to be cheeky lately. He is doing well. I asked about how he felt about Rolling Loud in Thailand, and he responded with the King right there. He's feeling very very high up about the ordeal. Rather than being the King, he sees Briize as the King, and him gathering his graces and motivation to push gorwards simply by watching. There are a lot of fond and just overall respectful and "in awe" emotions attached here. To the point where he may wonder if it is overbearing for others (cough OT6 cough) leading me to believe he may have seen their distainful reactions. Nonetheless it wasn't enough to erase his positive feelings on the matter. He really feels like he should bow down in gratitude lmfao.

When I had asked if he had contacted members recently i got the 6 of Wands, which is a yes signally a positive and celebratory? Chat. Therefore, it is probably around or on Taro's birthday they spoke.

One thing of note that I and maybe many have noticed is that Taro seems the most standoffish out of all the members regarding this entire situation from the start. This is true-ish deep down. I pulled another card to clarify the 6 of wands, which made everything I already knew click into place for me- but I accidentally reshuffled it in my deck and I do not remember exactly what card it was- but I know it fully cleared this up for me so I will share the explaination I came to here:

Taro doesn't really know how to deal with negative situations. At all. He acts as if they do not exist unless he must face them. He is not good with them. He will spiral out of control and doesn't know how to work through those things properly, so he believes the most mature thing is to not engage to begin with. Therefore, it was very awkward for him to try and contact Seunghan directly. He does not know what to say. He has been avoiding it even if he also believes he was wronged and is still OT7. He is the most awkward member about this. I do believe that Seunghan mayhaps reached out during his birthday, and this relationship is starting to mend again. Wanted to share bc this makes me sad and happy.

Sohee

The World + 6 of Chalices + 2 of Pentacles

Sohee is generally feeling really good, maybe like something has been completed to an extent sucessfully. I think, tbh that he is glad to be home lmfao, but he really enjoyed the adventure. That sort of feeling. Since people were asking, I decided to ask if he had really smiled and nodded at the Riize is 7 banners at Rolling Loud, to which I pulled 6 of Chalices. This is a yes, it made him think of some other memories- so since that is the case I really think he may be referring to Madrid, which is funny bc Briize were saying he was grinning just like he did back then!

I then asked him how he thought things were progressing for Seunghan's return, to which I got 2 of Pentacles. Things are still being prepared and there's not a clear answer at the moment. This question led me into the next few things we will discuss regarding SM.

SM

Knight of Pentacles + 8 of Swords + Knight of Wands + Queen of Wands

Generally, there is a lot of turmoil here. Careful planning and preparation, but its almost like one team is like "let's do this now, this is stupid and we need to act now" and the other is like "why do we have to do that? I don't wanna". One side wants to do as they have always done, and the other side is younger and more open-minded, wanting to avoid disaster due to refusal to adapt. The older side sees this as reckless, the younger side sees the older as lazy and slow. It is very tough, and they are at odds. I will come back to this energy a bit later.

8 of Wands + 2 of Chalices + 10 of Wands

Someone asked if SM was making a decision regarding Seunghan this week. Pulled 8 of Wands and 2 of Chalices. Yes?? I think they 100% have the intention to do so. But with the 10 of wands as the outcome I think that whatever outcome it is it will be while before it is released, and whatever it is will be due to a lot of pressure being put on SM. So I advise that OT7 really make sure to keep laying it on as thick as possible as this will affect the outcome.

Bottom of Deck:

8 of Chalices + 5 of Wands

The theme here is still a lot of conflict. One side will need to grow mature enough to give up their stance. Whoever gives in first wins.

Final Notes:

Mainly, what I wanna speak on is the energy SM is feeling right now. I made a transit reading when Pluto went into Aquarius that discussed what tf is going on with SM lately and what will be going on for the next few years. I will link it HERE (for twt users, i will link in the twt)

Other than that, again, keep spreading the truth and laying on the pressure here. We are approaching a kind of finale situation rather soon. Or at least some news regarding such. Note that even if we win, we may not KNOW right away. We may not know 100% until closer to a CB. I hope not, but it's certainly possible. So please keep doing what you're doing, and do not give in!!

[meteorherd]

pavitr 🥲

[1roentgen]

.

[briarlovesclara]

I totally agree and thank you for sharing! I don't take any offense at all /gen

I definitely see that vision especially with Evan and Jammer. That kind of feeling is what I hoped to capture in "forgets the difference between romantic and platonic love" and Jammer's whole paragraph! /nm

I have always been a strong evan sam platonic bestfriends enjoyer. I also think them in a qpr would be lovely! What moved the needle to down bad in this analysis was that I think the performers Brennan and Danielle are trying to hint at a romantic thing happening with them. Not that I think the things they are doing are inherently romantic, but I feel like they're probably playing it that way? So I leaned into that. But I will never consider it "settling" if they are "just" platonic or qpr. I adore them.

I also truly could not tell you why I said K was down bad for Sam, that one was more silly than not. I remember getting the vibe but 0 evidence LMAO /lh

Again, I'm not mad at all, and actually really value your feedback! I took it as an opportunity to explore the chart more through that lens. I think it's so cool that people are enjoying and discussing something I made in half an hour. It's so fun, and this is a part of that discussion! So honestly thank you :) /gen hope you are well and I'm glad you found a place to speak about this!

is this anything? (details/analysis under cut)

(closeups have more extensive ids)

Sam and Evan: need no explanation. Neither of them have confessed to each other but COME ON. whether or not you think they Should be together, there is no way at this point that danielle and brennan are unaware of what their characters are doing which is falling in love. on screen in front of us.

Sam and K: this is where it gets less obvious-- I can't remember exactly why but K in the last episode just felt so down bad to me. Even before last ep, I was starting to see a future where Evan and Sam got together and K was really fond of Sam "totally by proxy" (see K and Evan later).

Evan and Jammer: this one I struggle with if I'm being so honest, so I decided to make them struggle with it too. If you think either of them would ever know what was happening you'd be wrong in my personal opinion.

K and Evan: they're in love. I'm sorry. Not saying they're in a healthy or stable relationship but they are in fact in love. I'm part of the theory that Evan broke up with K and if you've seen his face this season he's dead in the water for them.

Jammer and Sam: he has no idea what's in his brain about Sam. I didn't put an arrow back because I don't know what she feels about him in my head so I didn't even want to make her confused.

Similarly, Jammer and K: I have no read on them. I can however see K being at least platonically into Jammer (they seemed a little too into the Weugan thing). But that's just a thought. A film thought.

That's it! This is all in good fun :) lmk your thoughts if you'd like!

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,970 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.” 

John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment. 

“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.” 

“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night. 

You're not sure how that makes you feel. 

It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it. 

Now...now you're not sure. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

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[propertyofwicked]

SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

[singmyaubade]

Good Graces

exes!steddie x female!reader

summary: coming back from chicago, the last people you expected to see were you exes but for them, the only thing they wondered when they saw you was, what's it gonna take to get back in your good graces?

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ angst, cursing, reader wants to kill steve, , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy..

a/n: i feel like this is going to be a two-parter most likely but i wanted to write this so bad because i love the song off of short n' sweet. i don't usually write for steddie but i was craving this concept. anyways, i hope you and enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this.

You dragged your luggage with a grunt as you passed through baggage claim over to the exit. A part of you was thoroughly regretting bringing two big suitcases but if you were spending two months of your summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

You certainly needed it.

Your eyes wandered all over the place to spot your childhood friend and cousin, Robin. She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples.

You could spot the balloons and welcome home sign from a mile away and that was enough to confirm that was Robin.

She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples. She started racing towards you before she almost tripped over the decorations in her hand.

You giggled as you raced over to her to prevent her from causing actual damage to herself, "Jeez Robin, still clumsy?" You asked, snorting.

She rolled her eyes, "This is hard to carry all by yourself!" She exasperated, causing her to pout.

"Aww poor baby," You mocked, pinching her cheek as she swatted your hand away.

Instead of saying anything else, she hugged you. You smiled sweetly, embracing her back, glad to see her and talk to her instead of the same static on the telephone.

"I missed you," You whispered, smile still on your face.

"Uh, I missed you more!" Robin almost yelled, pulling away from you, "You have to tell me everything about Chicago," She said, grabbing on of your suitcases for you.

You started telling Robin about everything and she kept replying with her gasps and 'oohs' when you told her all about acting school.

Even you had to admit that going to Chicago straight out of high school was not exactly a sentence jotted down on your bucket list.

But when you get accepted to one of the top acting schools in Chicago, you can't exactly decline. Of course, you were sad to leave everything behind.

Your friends, your family, even the shitty diner on 15th street but you knew that you would come back to visit, it was guaranteed.

You usually would've stayed with your parents but they decided to go on a three month trip to the Caribbean but they did make it clearly that they would miss your presence.

And you were also glad to be able to spend time with Robin since you hadn't been able to see her in so long.

But you couldn't say you didn't miss her nosy questions or constant rambling,

"You have to tell me about all your latest conquests!" She said, driving but peeking her head at you to encourage you to answer.

You rolled your eyes, "I'm still perplexed that you can even drive, is it even legal for you to drive?" You snickered, changing the subject.

She scoffed, "Okay first of all, I am an amazing driver and second, you aren't changing the subject from the tragic discussion of your love life,"

You gasped offended, "My love life is not tragic!" You folded your arms, "And I just don't feel the need for something like that right now,"

Robin exasperated, "All you have told me about your love life is two exes who you literally call 'fuckface' and 'dickhead' which is not a confirmation of a successful love life," Robin ranted, "And you still have yet to tell me who these mystery men are!"

"They aren't important," You mumbled, nuzzling into the cold window.

Robin sighed, "You shouldn't let whoever those assholes were determine your love life, Y/N."

Robin wasn't usually serious with you but you knew that it did make her sad to see you never truly opening your heart because of two men that had screwed you over.

You shrugged as Robin looked at you, "But I'll still get you Benny's,"

You sat up in excitement, "Are you serious?" You asked, grinning ear to ear.

"Ugh yes, we can even eat the greasy burger in the car like old times," Robin said with a smile as you cheered.

By the time you and Robin had gotten your burgers, you were asking her about her life and what she had been up to as you bit into your greasy cheeseburger.

Robin shoved a few fries in her mouth before talking, "What do you wanna know?" She asked, mouthful.

You swallowed before answering, "Hmm... what are they like? But no names!"

Robin snorted, "Are you really still serious about the 'no name policy'?"

The 'no name policy' came from your acting school where you don't let someone introduce you to someone privately until you actually see them and you only learn their name when you see them.

And Robin also couldn't tell her friends who you were because that would be missing the entire point.

Robin thought it was stupid but you thought it was productive.

"Um yes!" You said loudly, "It's actually incredibly helpful when you think about it."

Robin chuckled, "What if you already know them?"

"Then I'll be reintroduced," You said, smugly.

"Alright," Robin said, "Well one of them is an absolute dingus to the maximum," You giggled as she went on, "But he is pretty funny and kind but clumsy when you meet him, I think you would like him,"

"He seems fun," You replied before Robin moved on.

"Then there's the other one, he's an absolute pothead and extremely eccentric but when you look past that, he's a pretty nice guy and actually really fun to be around, I think you would like him too." Robin said, eating the last bite of her burger.

"That's cool," You smiled.

Robin continued to go on about the different kids there and how the three adults including her were their babysitters which you thought was hilarious.

As you finished up your burger and fries, you threw the trash out before you and Robin were driving towards her house.

"Oh and also, we are going to one of their houses tonight," She said as she checked her watch, "Or as soon as you put your bags down because we are late!" She yelped, urgently parking.

You laughed as you both grabbed your luggage from the trunk, making your way inside the house and to her room. You barely had time to situate yourself before Robin was rushing you because of her own late actions.

By the time you could blink, you were both already inside the car, making it towards her friends house.

"Also," She cleared her throat, "He's kind of loaded so don't make a big deal out of it,"

"How rich are we talking?" You joked with a sly smile.

"Again, he's a dingus with no charm," Robin said, "You will forget he's rich extremely fast,"

You laughed, looking outside despite it being dark. A part of you really missed Hawkins considering you grew up there and you heavily missed the late night car drives that you took.

Another part of you though was scared that you might run into two individuals during your time back home but you were pretty sure Robin wouldn't ever even be in their social circle, let alone her area.

Robin pulled into a house and you couldn't really make out it's features but you could swear that you recognized the street.

Robin unbuckled her seatbelt as she spoke, "We've arrived," She said hauntingly as you giggled.

You both exited the car as you heard laughing and yelling on the inside which cause Robin to bang on the door with a heavy knock, almost as if she was the police.

You hissed at the knock as she shrugged before the door opened and the last person you had expected to see opened the door,

"Robin, I literally said the time to be here was seven, not eight!" He sighed, looking at her before locking eyes with you.

Steve fucking Harrington.

He still looked the exact same, brown curly strands still standing on his head, looking effortlessly perfect. His muscles flexing as he held open the door and same brown doe-eyed eyes that looked at you with a certain glint.

Not even his outfits had changed, same jeans and striped polo shirt, you wanted to choke him.

Or fuck him, it was hard to decide.

"Okay well, I had to pick my cousin up from the airport and I got sidetracked!" She whined, speaking to Steve but his eyes were locked onto yours, "And speaking of my cousin, this is Y/N." Robin introduced.

Silence sat there for a few more seconds that felt like minutes as you and Steve looked each other. He looked uneasy but you knew your face was showing a disgruntled look as Robin looked at the both of you.

He coughed, snapping out of it, "Uh hi,"

You stood there with the same look on her face as Robin looked like a lightbulb popped on top of her head.

Her mouth made an 'o' shape, "Do you guys know each other?"

"This is one of the exes," You said as you clicked your teeth and Robin looked as if she found out something outrageous.

"Wait which one? The one who broke up with you after taking your virginity and started dating another girl or the one you caught sleeping with another girl after his concert," Robin asked.

"Robin!" You squealed, looking at her as if you wanted to choke her.

"I'm curious!" She replied as Steve continued looking at the both of you with the same wide-eyed expression.

You waved her off before you looked back at Steve, "Whatever, I don't give a shit anymore," You said, shoving his shoulder as you entered the house you had seen a multitude of times before.

You and Steve Harrington's relationship was not something to call home about. You had dated him before he was Steve 'The King' Harrington. He was so sweet for the first part of your relationship, when it was the beginning of school and clique's weren't sorted.

This was until Carol and Tommy had recruited him and their first proclamation was that he dumped you if he ever wanted to be anything in Hawkins High.

So you met up with Steve that night and you both said that you had things to talk about. After some back and forth, he let you go first and you told him you were finally ready to give up your virginity.

And let's just say, instead of breaking up with you there and then, he decided to do the most absolute dickhead thing and take it anyway. After, you were happy and it was a great first time, Steve was kind and compassionate.

He drove you home and then your life hit a certain darkness when you went to school the next day. Instead of seeing your boyfriend immediately, Carol and Tommy approached you in the parking and they told you that Steve had broken up with you and found something better.

And then in between periods, you saw him and a girl named Susie Blickens extremely close to each other as she twirled her hair and he rested his hand above her head on the locker.

Not only did you wanna puke but you were fucking furious. Of course, you were sad, there wasn't counting how many times you had cried over him but eventually, all of it turned to anger.

He would walk past you as if nothing happened and that was when you swore that you would always hate his guts till the day you die.

Hence, why he looks like a dear in headlights seeing you.

As you entered the living room, you were greeted by all of the teenagers on the couch, causing absolute chaos.

A kid named Dustin introduced himself to you first, offering a handshake which made you laugh before he continued arguing with his friend.

The rest of them just smiled at you but you figured you would learn their names throughout the night.

You sat in the empty arm chair facing away from the front door and Steve in general. You could hear Robin and Steve whisper arguing but it did not intrigue you.

"So you go to school in Chicago?" A girl named Max asked you as you politely smiled.

"Yeah," You responded.

"And how is it?" A girl named El followed up.

"It's pretty fun, the windy city is exactly what you think it would be." You answered.

"Did you meet any cute boys?" Max asked as a boy you presumed was her boyfriend yelped a 'hey!'

You both giggled, "They are pretty okay but they aren't as interesting as you would think."

The two girls you were talking to giggled as they began whispering as you clapped your hands in your lap, looking around Steve's house.

Nothing had changed much but you were happy to see more pictures added to the walls. You knew Steve didn't have the best relationship with his parents but in a way, his house looked more homely.

Maybe he did that himself.

You watched the kids bicker a few minutes more as you watched the dynamics between them all. You were actually having a semi good time for the most part and were pretty sure the night couldn't get worse.

You felt a hand cup the top of the arm rest before speaking, "Wow, you let the pretty girl steal my seat," The voice you recognized all too well spoke.

Oh fuck no.

You looked behind you to see Eddie Munson who had the same expression that Steve did, trying his best to find the words to say to you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked as the kids snapped their neck at your foul language.

Eddie gulped, "Y/N,"

You were pretty sure a vein was popping from your forehead and by the way Eddie was looking at you, it was almost as if your hair was on fire.

"Is Robin friends with every asshole in Hawkins?" You meant to ask in your head but said it instead out loud.

"Maybe," Eddie sent an awkward laugh which only made you angrier, "Listen, I know we didn't end on the best of-" He started.

You stopped him immediately, "Are you seriously about to say the best of terms? You fucking cheated on me!" You yelled as Eddie hissed in pain, as if you were touching him with a hot iron.

The kids gasped, full attention on you and Eddie but there was not a bone in your body that cared.

"Y/N, I swear I've changed and I tried apologizing many times," He tried his best to mediate but it was to no avail.

"I meant what I said the day you did it, you can go fuck yourself and I will hate you till the I die," You spat, pushing past him, moving towards Robin.

With Eddie, you didn't need that many words to explain the situation. He was different from Steve and the second boy that you genuinely liked. He made you laugh and gave you free pot which was both a great deal.

And you had to admit that he gave the best head to ever exist.

But when you went to one of his concerts for his band, Corroded Coffin, you went backstage to surprise him and caught a blonde giving him head.

He almost had the same look he had when he just saw you.

But let's just say it didn't end the best when you grabbed the blonde haired girl by her hair and started hitting Eddie with the fan you were using to cool yourself down.

It took a while for Gareth to get you off of Eddie but you eventually just walked away and never spoke to Eddie again despite his desperate tries over the phone and at your house.

And that was that.

Steve was next to Robin but she swatted him away as she sees you approaching, "How did you manage to become friends with the two most heinous men in Hawkins?" You asked, genuinely pissed.

Robin looked lost for words, "I mean okay, I get that maybe you would've dated one but I didn't expect for you to date both Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson!" She rambled, "I can't believe those are the faces behind fuckface and dickhead,"

"It's not your fault," You groaned, "I'm just shocked and choosing whether to kill them or just heavily injure them." Your jaw moved to the side as you glanced behind them as they were both peering at you, looking away once you saw them, trying to play it off.

"Listen, I know they are absolute buttheads but I swear they've changed and I won't try to convince you but I'm begging you to give them a chance," Robin implored.

You sighed, not wanting to cause a rift between Robin and her friends even if you hated them more than anything in the world.

"Okay," Is all you said as Robin let out a breath.

"Okay," She repeated.

She led you both to the couch as you sat down next to her on the big couch with Eddie peering at you in his armchair and Steve running his hand through his hair aggressively as he sat next to Robin.

Even the kids could feel the tension in the room. Robin broke the silence with a laugh before speaking, "Okay! How about we play Monopoly?" She asked as everyone agreed in little 'yeahs' and 'sures.'

You were surprised Eddie didn't argue for D & D.

Mike grabbed the game, laying it in on the coffee table. The kids yelled for which little figurines they wanted but Steve quickly snatched the dog before looking at you.

He reached over Robin to hand it to you as you looked at him with a hateful expression, "Uh, I just remember it being your favorite to play with." He muttered.

A part of you wanted to scoff and grab another figurine but he had been right, it was your favorite.

Sadly, it only brought you back the the memories of when you and Steve dated.

"I still don't understand why you like playing this game considering I always school you," You cockily said as Steve mockingly laughed.

His face went close to yours, "We always know I win," He said, giving you a light peck before you could respond.

You smiled, "Alright Harrington, let's test your bluff,"

He set the game down on the table as he began setting up the board and the money.

You reached to grab your dog figurine before he snatched it from you within seconds, causing you to frown.

"But if I take your good luck charm, maybe I could win," He snickered as you rolled your eyes.

"In your dreams," You said, acting like you didn't care.

Steve watched you with a grin for a few seconds before approaching you, slipping the dog into your grip.

You smiled sweetly as Harrington grabbed your waist, "I'll always let you have the dog if it means I get to see you happy,"

You scrunched your nose, "You are the corniest person I know,"

"You know you love it," He whispered, kissing you again,

You hesitated, taking the miniature sized dog, not daring to say anything to him. Steve watched to see if you would smile but your facial reaction didn't change.

He frowned as Eddie began speaking, "Okay, let's do this!"

The kids immediately started to somehow play Monopoly aggressive which only earned a laugh from you. What made you laugh even harder was seeing how passionate Eddie, Steve, and Robin were about the game.

A little part of you had missed being around all of them in their own separate way.

Chicago was fun but it didn't have the same home feeling that you got when you were back at Hawkins.

After a couple rounds and your money only slipping, you excused yourself to get a soda.

"Do you need help finding anything?" Steve asked, already ready to get up from his seat.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," You said quickly, moving towards the kitchen.

Steve sunk into his seat as you began reaching to grab a cup from the cupboard above you. Before you could go on your tippy toes, a taller hand grabbed it for you as you sighed.

You turned around to see Eddie only inches away from you as he placed the glass down next to you.

You only glared at him as he smirked, eyeing you up and down which only earned a scoff from you.

Not that you would ever say this out loud, Eddie still never hesitated to make you nervous. From his tattoos to leather jacket and the way he would eye you, it made you feel like a teen girl again.

He was still the bad boy and as much as you wanted to act unbothered, it still turned you on.

Silence passed between the both of you for several seconds, trying to see who would break first.

"Can you not?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"She speaks!" He over-dramatically yells!

"You are a joke," You said, trying to move past him as he only caged you in.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You used to like it,"

A shiver crept down your spine as you tried to keep your composure.

"You are not gonna flirt your way into getting me to forget that you cheated on me!" You argued as Eddie swirled his tongue in his mouth, looking up with a hand still leaning on the cupboard.

"How many times do I have to apologize?" He asked, looking at you.

"Instead of apologizing, I can suggest you trying to go fuck yourself," You spat, shoving him but he still kept his body in the same place.

"I just don't do it like you," He pouted which only caused red, hot anger to fill you.

You slapped him which only caused a smile from Eddie as he moved closer to your face, a hand moving to your waist.

"There she is," He grinned against your ear as you looked at Eddie, a part of you wanting to close the gap.

Suddenly, you heard a cough from behind Eddie as you looked over to see Steve. He looked flustered, watching the sight of you and Eddie.

You finally pushed Eddie hard out of the way, moving past Steve before exiting as you rushed over to Robin, "Can we leave now?" You asked, a begging look in your eyes.

"Yeah, why?" She asked, looking at you but you only pleaded with your eyes,

"Okay, let me just tell Steve." She said, handing you her keys.

You quickly said your goodbye's to the teens as you exited outside of the door before Eddie or Steve could catch up to you. You went inside the passenger side of the car as you wanted to scream.

The hatred you felt for Steve and Eddie was consuming but a heavier force was the effect they still had on you.

Steve was kind and compassionate, showing you the golden side of love which you always showered in.

And then there's Eddie who's rough and taunting, showing you the toxic side which never failed to make you falter within seconds.

Instead of only having one to resist, both only made you more turned on.

And if you were feeling this now,

Who knows how the rest of the summer will go?

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts; Masterlist

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut, i'm too tired to write slowburn this is fun from the beginning because i'm starved for affection

Summary: The world is haunted. There's ghosts, so many in fact that sometimes it feels like they're taking over the living. Incidents are on the rise, ghost related injuries and deaths are getting worse and more common, fear is taking place in hearts of those still here.

And the only ones who are born with the gift, with the ability to see, hear and fight this epidemic, are hybrids. Between the countless agencies and corporations ran by humans exploiting hybrids' gifts for profit, you desperately try to apply your gifts and end up at a small shunned hybrid ran agency fighting to help people and gain respect.

Warnings: ghosts and the supernatural, discussions of deaths, murder and violence, themes of deaths, murder and violence, a lot of sad backstories, dangerous situations and close brushes with death, eventual smut, each chapter will have individual warnings!

Current word count: 10k

A/N: hello darlings! so this has been stewing in my head for a long time - some of my favourite things are mafia related stories, fantasy with dragons and supernatural, ghosts and hybrids, and so i told myself why not put the last three together haha

the idea first came to me while reading Trouvaille by @spookyserenades because that was the first time i saw hybrids and ghost hunting tropes put together into one story, and i got really excited (by the way, i know i never shut up about this story, but it's so fucking good like please go read it right now it's a masterpiece and i'm so glad i found it), but also my favourite book series is the Lockwood&Co which i discovered when i was like 14 and read a thousand times since then. it's genuinely one of the best series i've read and it's to me what Harry Potter is to a lot of people (i was so damn disappointed when the Netflix series didn't get renewed, it had so much potential and the books are stellar). so i decided to start working on a story with hybrid ghost hunters according to the Lockwood&Co lore!

i hope you enjoy yourself and that you end up loving this story as much as i do!

↭ 1 ↭ | ↭ 2 ↭ | ↭ 3 ↭ | ↭ 4 ↭ | ↭ 5 ↭ |

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open): @borahaetelevision @socksfirst1 @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @iwishiwasrichasfuck @authorpj

@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

@luvian-art @ldysmfrst @jinsleftairpod @futuristicenemychaos @mar-lo-pap

@canarystwin @sleepyrene @cerulean1riz @mysteriousgeminizone

@sweetplaidfestivalstudent @afangirl91 @mama-riyon @uniquecutie-puffs @livi101ful

@singukieee @jenartejk @i-like-puppy-mg @anne4sweet

[eccentricwritingbaby]

yes, and?

lando norris x reader

summary - you’re famous, he’s famous - your new relationship is out for criticism with the world to see. neither of you care. loose basis on ‘yes, and?’ by ariana grande. 

masterlist

-

the nightclub was hot, sweaty, and loud as you followed your boyfriend inside. his broad frame was your only view as he proceeded lightly pushing through the crowd in order to get to your reserved area holding your shared friends. his hand tightened in yours while bypassing through tight spaces and yours in his when odd people here and there got too close. his protective nature always had you tingly and warm, especially as his eyes would turn ever so often over his shoulder in order to check on you. the short eye contact that was shared also highlighted a smile from you both, an unspoken identifier of gentle comfort. 

when reaching your shared group of friends in the vip section, your hands briefly separate for greetings and ‘hello’s’ as you pass through to the seating. his hand then finds yours again, just as it always does, and he pulls you towards him. 

flashes are constantly seen when you both are out, separately and together, therefore having phones shoved around you both or in your direction is normal. both yours and lando’s manager had emphasized that pda would bring more criticism towards your relationship, but you both were so far off the deep end into your honeymoon phase you didn’t care.

lando’s fans didn’t like you because they believed they had a chance with him. or they preferred his exes. or they thought you were the reason he keeps not winning. your fans didn’t like lando because they liked your ex. or they believed you could do better. or they loved your single era.

either way, neither of your fans enjoyed the fresh relationship, but you and lando sure as hell did. you first met out at a club as he was in the dj booth and you were in your vip area. locked eyes and the rest was history. you left the club that night together, woke up in the same bed the next morning, and the internet caught it all. not that either of you minded, you were actually glad you didn’t have to go through the hoops of soft-launches and hiding from the public. within the next week you had joined lando for a race weekend and only stirred the pot further.

lando’s hand tugged you over to where max and pietra were sitting down on the couches. you said your hello’s and took a seat next to p, furthering your discussions. 

lando lightly touches your shoulder in order to steal your attention, “sorry, love, i’m getting a drink, what’ll you have?” you give him your order and he taps his lips to your forehead as max and him begin to make their way to the bar. 

“and how are you feeling, y/n?” p asks you. you raise your eyebrows at her question in order for her to expand as she adds on, “you know, the media and all,” she gestures with her hands to your surroundings, the plethora of people holding their phones onto either you or lando.

“oh that,” you shake off your confusion with laughter, “ya, i pay no mind to all that, having been in the public for a while or so now, i’m used to it by now,”

“right, i just hope it’s not affecting your relationship with lando, you know?” p offers to you with a genuine smile in concern.

“it won’t, we both don’t mind, it happened with his ex and mine, the main difference now is that we both don’t care and are used to it,” you shrug and make eye contact with your boyfriend and his friend approaching both you and p with your drinks. lando drops down into the seat next to you, as max takes the seat next to p and across from his best friend. 

“thank you, love” you speak quietly to him, he hums in acceptance as he places his lips against your cheek.

“you’re welcome, baby, anytime,” you giggle at his response and he throws an arm over the back of your seat. you both thrived in your own little world, you were not planning on leaving each other or the honeymoon stage anytime soon, to hell with the public and media. 

after a while at the club - lando heading over to hijack the dj booth, you and your girls having the time of your lives on the dance floor - your boyfriend saw your eyes drooping a bit lower than normal and he knew it was time for you both to head out. he made his way over to where you were swaying with your girls and gently tugged on your upper arm, pulling you into him. you stumbled a bit back into him but he held you upright, as he always does. 

“c’mon, love,” he bends down to whisper into your ear, “let’s go home,” you smile up at him as he grabs your hand, beginning to make your goodbye’s and heading for the door. 

lando had stopped drinking an hour or so ago, knowing he would drive you two back to his home. you, on the other hand, had a few. not enough where you were a mess, but enough where your brain and mouth were no longer connected and you easily said whatever came to mind. lando found your drunken honesty to be adorable, your manager and publicist hated it. it had gotten you into a few tabloids and made you topics of talk shows, but nothing major - all sort of hilarious in your opinion. your fans called it iconic, and you might believe it to be too. 

“you ready?” lando turns around to ask you as you’ve reached the door. you peer quickly around his frame to see the paparazzi flooded at the entrance to the club. 

one deep breath in and you nod at your boyfriend, him assuring you quickly with a brief kiss to your lips and a whispered ‘stay close’ as he holds your hand tighter to himself, pushing the door open subjecting you to the wide array of flashing lights. 

“LANDO! OVER HERE!”

“Y/N Y/L/N HERE! GIVE US A SMILE!”

the paparazzi had been calling out to either of you as you both continued your walk to lando’s car and away from the club. you were a bit giggly at their questions and felt the need to say at least something to the group. as if lando could feel it, his head whipped back to check on you and it shook with a slight implication of ‘don’t do it’. you just gave him a wide smile in return. 

“Y/N! Y/N! WHAT IS YOUR RESPONSE TO FANS CALLING YOUR RELATIONSHIP A PR STUNT?!” 

you laugh at the question and turn around, “IT’S NOT!” you yell back with a giggle. the paparazzi surrounding you all laugh as well at your response. you continue to walk backwards facing the group, inviting them to keep following and asking.

“HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO PEOPLE SAYING YOU MOVED ON TOO FAST?!” another man with a camera yells towards you. 

“I DIDN’T! I LOVE HIM!” you shout back with another echo of laughs, lando looks down at you with amusement as he pulls you closer to him and opens the passenger side door of his car for you. he leads you into the car and the paparazzi still swarms around. 

“YOU LOVE A NO WINS RACE CAR DRIVER?” a pap asks quickly as lando is beginning to shut your door. 

you roll the window down and look into the man’s eye, “yes, and?”

your business is yours and mine is mine, why do you care so much whose d*ck i ride?

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch. 9

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Ch.Notes: emotional turmoil, jealousy

Summary: After last night's events things only grow more complicated between Wanda, Natasha, and the reader.

An: So... I have blown through all of the pre-drafted parts I have for this and am now writing in real time the goal is to do post every monday but bare with me if I slip up.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The smell of coffee is the first thing to enter your sense as you stir from your place in the bed. You can't move much as your legs are tangled with someone else’s. You can feel soft breaths tickling your face. Your brow creases, but you make no other movements.

There’s a slight shift in the bed, and that's when you begin to feel a finger dragging itself along your collarbone. It’s gentle as it draws patterns lightly tracing up your neck and jaw. A thumb ghosts over your lips, but you stay still.

“Even after this life has been so cruel to you, and you've grown this hard outer shell; your skin feels so soft. So pretty under my touch.”

You are fully awake, but something stops you from opening your eyes. Instead you scoot closer to the woman and pull her body closer to yours. Your arm flexes as you hold her in place.

“Enjoying the cuddling?” Natasha’s voice enters the room.

“She’s so peaceful like this, I don’t want to wake her,” Wanda shifts in your hold.

She maneuvers so that she's sitting up right in the bed. Your head falls into her lap, and her hands start running through your hair.

“We have to, I’ve heard from Pietro that people are already being made aware of the oil spill. They’re scrambling, he’s already at the office with Kate taking orders.”

You hear Wanda sigh, “This is nice, it almost feels domestic.”

Natasha laughs lightly, “Yes, having your wife bring you and your lover coffee, screams domestic.”

“She’s not my lover, Natasha,” Wanda’s voice sounds harsh.

It takes everything to keep your body from tensing as you listen into this conversation you aren't directly involved in.

“It’s a joke baby,” you can almost hear the smirk on the woman’s face.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny Natasha,” she deadpans.

“I agree there's nothing funny about you being in love with Y/n.”

You hear shuffling and then a quick thud as Wanda throws something at Natasha. By her exasperated sigh you can tell Natasha caught it.

“Can we save this discussion for… I don’t know, when Y/n isn’t laying in my lap,” Wanda says defensively.

“Fine, but the last thing I’m going to say is your taste in women is 10 out of 10,” Natasha chuckles.

“Fuck you,” Wanda can’t help but laugh as her wife exits the room.

Wanda refocus her attention back to you, “We have a big day ahead of us little krolik and unfortunately it starts now.”

She shakes you gently and calls your name a few times. You pretend to wake up. The sight of Wanda in the morning is something entirely ethereal. You can’t help but stare at the woman. Especially after what you heard this morning.

Your intense gaze makes the woman shift and clear her throat, “Natasha made coffee for us.”

You laugh a little, your voice groggy from sleep, “Sounds like a good thing to wake up too.”

“It can’t hurt, we have a busy day ahead of us,” she says getting out of the bed.

“Your bed is like 10 times more comfortable than mine,” you sink further into the mattress.

Natasha enters the room, “Glad to hear you slept well.”

There’s something grateful about the look you give the spy, “Thank you for that. Both of you.”

“The door is always open for you lisichka,” Natasha smiles warmly back.

With much reluctance you get out of the bed. Your feet shuffle across the bedroom floor and you scratch your head, suddenly becoming more aware of the fact that you aren’t in your home.

“I guess I should go get ready at my place,” you say stretching.

“We’ll meet you over there and head to work together, ok?”

You agree to these terms and make your way home. When you get there the composure that you usually carry yourself with slips.

The brief conversation that played out between the married couple echoed in the walls of your mind. It was a joke, that’s what Natasha said in the beginning. However after claiming Wanda was in love with you, it didn't sound like a joke anymore.

Wanda is a married woman. You know this and you’d feel confident in saying that the marriage is a happy one. Natasha is good for her, better than you could ever be. Wanda being in love with you wouldn’t make sense.

As you get ready for work it’s nearly all you can think about. Every moment where you hugged each other for too long, where her hand would find it’s way in yours, where the two of refused to break eye contact was now floating in your head.

It was hard not to romanticize it, you had feelings for Wanda since you were a teenager, and now you are being told she feels the same.

It's a heavy feeling that sits in your stomach. Every part of your being wishes it could be joy, but it’s sorrow and dread. The other accompanying thought with this revelation is, Natasha.

The woman was amazing in her own right. She deserves the same love, attention, and kindness that Wanda does. You refuse to be a home wrecker. Their love it’s organic, it’s feels true. It was enough for Wanda to bring home a wife, knowing her family wouldn’t approve. There wasn’t a reality where you’d let her throw that away.

Your thoughts don’t get to consume you any longer when the doorbell rings. You put on a face of determination as you leave your home with Wanda and Natasha.

Once you’re at the office everything seems more hectic than usual. The three of you are all whisked away in different directions, answering to the influx of calls.

The sheer volume of people you have on your line, startles you a bit as initially you thought this would be enhance the unlawful business practices, but it has also benefited the business used as a front.

This might’ve been a million dollar move. However, it truly wasn’t about the money. The supply for the family was endless. It was to regain control of the city and to assure them whether Dragos was in charge or not the Maximoff’s would be running this city.

The victory is bittersweet as thoughts of Dragos invade your mind. He should be here celebrating with you all yet he lay still in a hospital bed, using machines you couldn’t name to help him breathe. With Flora likely sitting there with him, tremendous sorrow on her shoulders and the wish that he would wake up so she could scold him.

There were bigger things to worry about aside from what you had heard this morning. The health of your father figure, the health of the business, preparing for a war, there was no room for your feelings right now and you accepted it.

“Alright, it’s time for you to go on break,” Kate knocks on your office door before allowing herself in.

“Too busy,” you mumble typing away at your computer.

“I brought you lunch, meaning you have to atop working to eat it,” Kate plops down a bag on your desk.

The smell fills your nose, making your mouth water and stomach growl. You sigh moving your keyboard out of the way to open the bag of food.

“Thanks Katie,” you say before munching on a french-fry.

“No problem, how are you holding up?”

You stretch a bit, “It’s been nonstop in both businesses. I’ve got to be careful not to mix them up as I write the orders. I’m a bit stressed, but I think this is a good stress.”

“And outside of work?”

Your face drops, “I’m barely holding on to be honest. Constantly worried about Dragos, but not just him; Flora, Wanda, Pietro, all of them. I feel so helpless, I haven’t felt this way since I was a child.”

“Y/n-”

“I feel like I’m failing, Kate. We’re fighting against a war, but it’s inevitable at this point. There’s no way Kingpin is going to take this lying down. We can’t afford to lose, but I don’t think any of us are prepared to fight.”

Kate takes your hand in hers causing you to gaze into her eyes. There’s a fire there, one that you forgotten lived inside the assistant.

“Y/n, whatever happens this family will not fall. Others might have alliances, weapons, and political power, but what every single one of them lacks is loyalty. We have people on the outside switch sides, but everyone in this building is here for the long haul. We stand by each other no matter how hard it gets. Maybe you’re right, we’re not prepared for a war right now, but we will be. You aren’t alone in this Y/n, you have a family… thee family backing you.”

She’s right and you know it. It’s a hard a reality to swallow in the sense that with or with Dragos the Maximoff’s don’t have a choice but to win. They will win, but what will be lost on the way to victory. The longer you’re in the position you understand what they mean when they say heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Something else is bothering you. I can tell,” Kate’s voice is soft when she speaks, snapping you from your thoughts.

You can feel the tip of your ears heat at her question, but you try to play it safe, “It isn’t important and I don’t think it will ever be. We have bigger things to worry about.”

Kate rolls her eyes at you, “You’re right about having bigger things to worry about. Things that you are clearly being distracted from by what’s on your mind. So as your best friend it’s my job to sit here and press you for answers until you tell me.”

It's your turn to roll your eyes, “Can we just drop this, my food is getting cold?”

“There’s a microwave somewhere in this building,” Kate took a seat at the edge of your desk, her hand still in yours.

“You aren't going to let this go are you?”

She shakes her head a little, “Nope.”

You take your free hand and place it over your face, “I heard Natasha say that Wanda is in love with me.”

“Oh my god. Y/n that’s- what’re you going to do?”

“Nothing, I’m not going to do anything.”

Kate’s eyes widen, “Why would she say that? Did she sound mad? How did you hear this? What if she is in love with you? How would you-”

“Enough!” You raise you voice at the girl and she stops.

“Sorry, but this is crazy.”

You sigh, “I know.”

“Do you love her?”

Your eye hit the floor immediately, “I’ve had a crush on Wanda for as long as I can remember. She’s seen me at my lowest, but found value in me nonetheless. Even after all these years she just makes me feel safe and I would do anything for her.”

“But…”

“But she's married to one of the most intriguing women that I've ever met. Someone I know who feels like I do. Someone who takes good care of her and can be there for her in ways that I can’t. They’re the perfect couple. They both truly deserve each other and I refuse to put myself between them.”

It is fully intended to sound strong, but by the end of it you can feel your eyes start to water. You do your best to hold it in but tears start to fall.

“Fuck,” you attempt to cover your face but Kate just pulls you to her by your office chair.

Her hands rests on your face wiping at the tears. You lean into her touch as she begins to rub your back.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Kate speak gently.

There’s a soft knock on your office door that gets you to straighten up. The walls are glass so you’re aware that they could see what was transpiring.

“Is everything ok in here?” Natasha let’s herself in, knowing the answer to her question.

You look to Kate, who then looks to Natasha, “Do you want to take over?”

Natasha gives a curt nod. You watch Kate walk out of the office closing the curtains on the way out so no one could see inside. She tells you to call her at the end of your day and you make a mental note to do so.

“Lisichka, talk to me,” she takes Kates previous position. She reaches to wipe the tears from your eyes, but you flinch away.

“I’m fine,” your voice dies as you speak.

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

You glare at her, but then your eyes soften, “I’m just overwhelmed Nat.”

“Maybe it's your turn to go home early n" she suggest.

“I have to stop by the hospital before I go home.”

Natasha hesitates, “I don't think you're in the right space to be there.”

“Someone has to go check on Flora and Dragos,” you stand firm.

“Wanda and I will go,” Natasha says.

You debate for a second on telling Natasha what you heard. You wonder how she would react. However you could never do that to her , not like when she’s looking at you like this. This is the second time in 24 hours that Natasha has been there for you in a time of need.

“Lisichka?”

“I- I’ll see if Kate can take me home,” you abruptly stand from your desk.

You don’t get far before Natasha is wrapping you up in her arms. You melt in her hold, she smells good, her arms are strong. She kisses the top of your head.

“Let me know when you’re home safe, ok? We’ve got everything under control here.”

You nod before heading off in the direction of Kate’s office. When you get to her door she’s on call and you debate leaving, but when she sees you she ends the call.

“Y/n-"

“Can you take me home, please. I know I could ask Clint, but I just-”

Kate cuts you off, “Of course, let’s go.”

You stay close to Kate as you leave the office. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda watches the two of you exit. She heads to your office to find her wife in your chair.

“What happened to Y/n?”

Natasha sighs, “I don't know she wouldn't tell me. I saw Kate sitting on the desk and wiping her tears away so I stepped in. She said she was overwhelmed, but there had to be more to it. I told her to go home.”

“I just saw her leaving with Kate,” Wanda adds.

“She said she’d ask Kate to take her,” Natasha explains.

“I could've taken her,” Wanda says with worry in her voice.

Natasha shakes her head, “You have a business to run and I promised Y/n we’d stop by the hospital after work.”

“I wish she would’ve seen me before she left,” Wanda’s upset, but she contains it well.

“Jealous of Kate?” Natasha tries to tease, but there’s something in her tone that Wanda detects.

“Are you jealous of Kate?” Wanda throws the question back at her wife.

Natasha gaze lingers on her hands, “What if I was?”

Wanda carefully straddles Natasha’ lap in the work chair. She buries her head into the crook of Natasha’s neck before mumbling into the soft skin.

“Then we’d both be jealous.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25

[himegureisu]

The Howler: the Aftermath

Warning: Mentions of sex (once)

A/N: This is the second part of the Howler. I wasn't planning on making the aftermath until someone made a comment at AO3. I know I should be posting it there first but it seems that more people read on Tumblr than I thought so Tumblr will once again see it first. This isn't edited as much, and I don't know how this holds up to Part 1 but I hope you enjoy!

-------

The Great Hall was once again abuzz for breakfast.

It was a Monday.

Each muggle, witch or wizard, whether it be student or parent, in the workforce, dreaded this day. Their time to rest, recover, relax, party, pursue a love, or their interests disappear. Everyone was brought back to the reality of work and responsibilities when the weekday started.

The Faculty at Hogwarts was no different.

Thus, when their colleague and fellow professor, Severus Snape, came back from his week off to grovel to a certain lady, confidently and quite happily entered the Halls bearing a rare smile on his lips, and a shine to his overall aura.

Let’s just say they became jealous.

The students gaped in awe and whispers of ‘Who knew he could smile?’ were exchanged among them. On the other hand, a small number of their female student population softly giggled on how smiling looks well on their usually grumpy professor.

“How was your week, Severus?” Albus asked, the young wizard who was seated by his left, “Happiness suits you,”

“It was pleasant,” Severus simply said, It wasn’t just pleasant. It was amazing to spend that long of a time only the two of you against the world, “Thank you for taking my classes, Headmaster,”

“It was a fruitful endeavor I’d be glad to do from time to time,” Albus said, eyes twinkling in delight, “I trust you groveled enough?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered, And then some.

He wasn’t about to advertise what he did for you to his colleagues. Your second mini honeymoon was not up for discussion for them. They knew not to expect more answers from him but it seems that, that wouldn’t do this time.

“It was quite the long break, wasn’t it?” Minerva said, from across the headmaster, starting the inquisition, “Was she satisfied?”

“Very,”

You weren’t just very satisfied. You were lovestruck once again. In complete and utter bliss.

On the afternoon of that day, he arrived at an empty home and seized the opportunity to make you a home cooked meal for dinner. In the evening, he’d set up the bathroom in candles, rose petals, and oils for the both of you to soak in. In the night, after an intense round of makeup sex, he unpacked your boxes for you. On the morning after, he’d prepared breakfast in bed, and surprised you to reservations at a resort in Wizarding Greece for the remainder of the week.

You were spoiled absolutely rotten, and so was he. Though, he couldn’t admit that to any of them.

“Who is she?” Filius asked the most important question.

“Someone I hope to introduce to you soon,” Severus answered, “As you know, she recently moved in,”

“You kept her from us for how long?” Minerva added,

“Should you continue with this line of questioning, I might not introduce you to her at all,” Severus casually remarked, “Especially if you’ll also pester her with so many questions,”

“Now, now, there’s no need to do that,” Dumbledore chuckled,

“We’ll stop,” Filius said,

“We’re just curious, Severus,” Minerva said, “It has been a while since then,”

“I know but all your questions will be answered in due time,” he sighed, standing up, “And there will be no interrogation of the sort when it comes,”

“Where are you going?” Minerva asked, almost intercepting him,

“To the Potions Classroom, where else?” he answered, “I do have a class to teach,”

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

How you got in a poly relationship with them

Neuvillette and Wriothesley are both busy people, one more so than the other but still very busy. It's sort of a miracle you've met both of them at all. You met Neuvillette first after you saw him standing in the rain and chatted with him until it stopped.

Hoping to see him again you made an appointment just to talk and maybe take a walk with him and while he was very puzzled why you would do such a thing he does welcome the change of pace and welcomes following appointments with you. It's rather slow but over months of getting to know each other your feelings grew bit by bit until it was no secret to each other you both fancied one another.

Things were happy as can be between you two and he could trust you to do certain things in his stead like checking on Sigewinne and delivering a gift for her. The fortress of meropide does get visitors every so often so you're not an odd sight and Sigewinne is delighted to see you and asks you to visit more often. So you do and over time you become a familiar face in the fortress despite your lack of prison sentence.

You hear of Wriothesley more than you see him and while you'd like to meet with him, you're just glad he hadn't kicked you out for visiting so much. Eventually he surprises you by calling you during one of your visits to his office. You worry you're in trouble but shake the thought out of your head and meet him in his office where he's got your favorite blend of tea ready to drink for you.

He simply asks how your visits have been and if anyone has given you trouble before asking if you don't mind having tea with him again the next time you visit. You agree and head up to the surface to tell Neuvillette about your time there as you usually do. And that's your routine: visiting Sigewinne, having tea with Wriothesley, and taking walks with Neuvillette.

Your routine lasts for a long time until during one of your meetings with Wriothesley he makes it clear that he's grown fond of you though he won't push anything since you've mentioned you fancy Neuvillette. Your mind is torn because you do find yourself thinking about Wriothesley in the same way you do Neuvillette. You thank him for the tea and his feelings but need to think so you leave the fortress with a jumbled mind.

Neuvillette perceptive as ever notices your distress right away and asks about it during your evening walk together. You decide to be honest about how Wriothesley makes you feel and Neuvillette respects that letting you know that while he cannot help you choose which of them you decide to be with he will support your decision regardless.

And things for the most part go back to normal- for you at least. Wriothesley invites Neuvillette down to the fortress to discuss work when after they're finished and the tea has gone cold he asks Neuvillette about his feelings for you, Neuvillette doing the same to him. When they realise just how deep their feelings run for you they both agree that they can't make you choose knowing you feel the same for them. So they agree to see you together if you're open to the idea.

When you show up for your next appointment with Neuvillette you didn't expect Wriothesley to be there but welcome his presence. They don't beat around the bush and ask you if you are open to the idea of seeing both of them and when you agree they're more than happy they get to be with the one who makes their heart soar.

Your schedule stays roughly the same though now there are group dates where the three of you go on a picnic together to enjoy the sun's rays and splash in the shore. People do question the nature of your relationship with the two but both Neuvillette and Wriothesley shut down any rumors about you keeping you safe.

While dating them they both agreed to let you go at your own pace with the both of them regarding intimacy and not to get jealous if the other is much farther than the other when it comes to it. So Wriothesley doesn't mind if he sees you kissing Neuvillette during the picnic he knows he'll get his turn. And he does one day when you're having tea together it's a simple peck on his lips but it means the world and he's so glad he's been patient.

They also agreed to communicate if anything is wrong or they haven't gotten their needs met. So if either of them feel doubt they know they can open up to one another to schedule some more time with you or with one another if they feel they haven't bonded enough.

Overall it's a pretty balanced relationship with little to no jealously and great communication.

[yoon-kooks]

paired & pierced | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨

It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.

“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”

“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.

“Yep.” Not really.

“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”

You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.

“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.

Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.

“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”

You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else. 

You’re no one’s number one.

This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.

“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.

She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.

To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right. 

Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.

You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.

Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.

You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.

No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”

He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.

“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.

You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.

“And you said yes?”

You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.

After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.

“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.

You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”

“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.

“No one.”

“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”

“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?

“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.

“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.

“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”

For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.

“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”

The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.

After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.

Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.

“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.

Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.

“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.

“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.

“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”

Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.

He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.

You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!

“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.

You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.

The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.

“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”

Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.

“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”

“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.

“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”

So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.

As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.

You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.

“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”

“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate. 

“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.

“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.

“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”

You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation. 

“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”

It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”

He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”

The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.

At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.

Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.

As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.

“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him. 

“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”

You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.

“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”

The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way. 

You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.

Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.

Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.

“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”

You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.

With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.

Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.

But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.

“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.

You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.

“Beg for it.”

“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”

“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name. 

As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”

“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”

You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.

In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.

At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.

“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

You nod without thinking too hard about it.

“Think you can go another hour?”

Hell no, but you nod anyway.

“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”

He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”

Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.

Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?

“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.

“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.

“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”

“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.

“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.

“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”

He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.

“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it? 

If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.

[avocado-writing]

I saw some of your BG3 headcanon and I got to say I love it. 💕

I hope it okay to ask what would BG3 companion would react if the reader is a selkie 🦭💕

how cute! hope you enjoy, anon!

Astarion

sort of glad he isn’t the only “afflicted” of the group (even though you consider your selkie-dom a blessing and not a curse like his vampirism)

you spend long nights discussing how you adapted to “normal” life after the tadpole. he doesn’t need to hide from sunlight, you don’t feel the pull to constantly be near water.

makes jokes about stealing your sealskin when you annoy him, in return you threaten to stake him. just girly things 💕💞💓💗💝💘💖

when you finally get the confidence to transform in front of him he is transfixed. you are beautiful.

“what do you think?” nervous eyes, picking at your fingers.

“you’re wonderful,” he says, uncharacteristically sincere, and you feel your cheeks heat up.

Gale

super duper fascinated.

asks you a billion questions, ones you didn’t even think about the answers to!

”so how does it feel when you actually slip into your seal form?” “?? Normal I guess? Idk, Gale!”

he watches you transform and swim around, making lots of notes to start with — but he gets distracted and just watches you play.

when you flop up onto the bank next to him, covered in water and out of your seal body, he gets lost in the sweet depth of your eyes.

when he kisses you for the first time it’s the most sure he’s ever been about anything.

Karlach

“oh my GODS that’s so cool!”

also asks a billion questions too but not like… smart ones.

“have you ever eaten raw fish?” “yeah of course, Karlach!” “haha ew how did they taste?” “pretty good actually!” “AMAZING”

can’t stop looking at your, stroking your cloak when you’re in kith form. she knows how precious it is to you and wants to keep it safe.

she submerges herself in water and heats it up like a hot tub, you turn into your seal form and float around lazily enjoying her heat. ❤️

Wyll

gobsmacked but honoured you shared this side of yourself with him.

we know our lad likes fairytales, he’s swept up in the storybook aspect of it all.

(secretly you’re both thrilled at the idea of being a knight having a romance with a selkie. it’s so perfect and sweet! 💕)

always checks in to see if there’s anything he can do to make you feel more comfortable - finding you water to relax in or getting you some fatty food to enjoy.

perfect partner. respectful and doting. no notes!

Shadowheart

surprised, but pretends she knew all along (she didn’t, she just doesn’t want you knowing how taken aback she is)

I think you being a selkie helps her get the courage to try and swim.

maybe it’s you in bipedal form holding onto her and leading her into the water, or maybe you turn into a seal for extra buoyancy.

either way, she’s squeaking “don’t you dare let go!!”

she eventually gets more comfortable with this side of your life and there is nothing she enjoys more than just floating with you, holding your paw or your hand 💕

Lae’zel

doesn’t really understand.

you have to explain the concept to her a couple of times before it sinks in.

”this is a confession?” “yes…” “I do not understand why you believe I would think any differently of you. you are still the source of my joy.”

her honest acceptance of you, all of you, is enough to make your soul feel sweet.

you kiss her. there is simply nothing else for it.

Halsin

my man wildshapes, so he’s pretty used to people being in animal forms - even if it’s a bit different for you.

the two of you talk at length about changing into beasts and how it feels, what joy and freedom it brings.

let’s be real. we’ve all seen the bear scene. the two of you probably both turn into seals and get freaky. it’s great.

he likes to curl up in his bear form around you as a seal and drift off to sleep on the shore. you feel so safe next to him. he’d never let anything hurt you.