#i don’t know if I want to choose to live if it’s in this utter solitude for the rest of my life

[capcoochie]

I want to see Elain and azriel flourish.

our cold careful shadow singer grins and beams and swoons and blushes and cackles for his little fawn. Imagine them together with the inner circle and the utter surprise on their faces at the sheer joy in him that wasn’t there prior to Elain. He’s goofy and aloof and carefree in a way he never was before.

And our sweet shy beautiful seer becomes bold and brave and cheeky for her male of shadows. shes loud and open and borderline brash as she almost forgets they have an audience when in the presence of the inner circle because she can’t help but focus on him solely. shes come out of the shell of propriety that was wrapped around her the moment she was born, and becomes something more wild and untethered than the inner circle could’ve imagined.

I love that they are both shy and quiet, choosing to stand in the background than lead out in the front. But alot of me feels (knows) that they both act that way out of a belief that’s where they belong. And apart they don’t have the courage to be who they could be when they shed all the expectations and pretenses, but together they meet in the middle. and it shows. We’ve seen glimpses of it in the bonus chapter and acofas but their true personalities shining in front of the others is sure to be almost mind blowing to their family. And I LOVE it.

she’ll be bold without lacking her kindness, and he’ll be vicious in the name of protecting the most important thing that he has ever come across in his 500 years of living. warmth to replace the coldness he steadied himself with, and understanding where she has never been seen.

*siiiiiiiigh*

[waittheydontloveyou]

It’s just all so unbelievable. So fantastical. I can’t imagine meeting someone who will believe the shit I’ve been through. Going through. I wish I had someone to fucking talk to. Just cry to. To be heard and understood. No silver lining my trauma. No “it’ll all be ok”. Because it won’t. It never has been. This is grief. Mourning. It’ll never be ok. I’ll never be ok. Rent my dress and cover me in ash. Today I fucking mourn. But I’ll learn to live with this pain. I just don’t have a choice I guess. I mean i do have a choice…kind of. I choose not to die today. I choose not to die. I have a choice. This is probably my only choice. But i fucking choose not to die today. I choose not to treat people with hatred. I choose to cry and not hide my tears. I choose to show my pain. I choose to love. I choose to be giddy with joy when I see sunshine. I choose not to become a fucking villain. I have a choice. I choose to be alive and that’s all I got.

[lunaritex]

BETTER SCENERY. . .ᐟ — kinich.

᱖ content: established relationship, reader is gender-neutral, kinich’s personality might be ooc, tooth-rotting fluff.

᱖ from hye: finished natlan’s quest and i am now in love with kinich, thank you for attending my ted talk.

“Wait, I can’t do this! I think I’m going to fall!” You shrieked, squeezing your eyes shut as you clung onto Kinich for dear life, as if he was your final lifeline. Except it proves to be quite accurate in your current position. 

You could feel the wind slapping your cheeks as you moved through the sky. The way Kinich moved is with ease and many years of experience put into it. Your grip tightened on your partner’s frame as you buried your face in his chest, trying to hide your face. 

“Don’t be silly, you won’t fall,” he chuckled.

His laugh would have made your heart skip a beat if it weren’t for the fact that both of you were flying across the sky at lightning speed. An undignified noise left your lips when he made an abrupt turn to his right, resulting in you tightening your grip, if that was even possible. After what felt like decades, Kinich finally came to a stop as his speed gradually slowed down. Your shoulders sagged with relief the moment you felt solid ground beneath your feet. 

However, the moment your feet touch the ground, your knees immediately give way. You would have kissed the ground if Kinich had not caught you in the nick of time. You flashed him a grateful smile; a gesture he returned with his own. To everyone else, Kinich appears aloof and unapproachable, always asking people how much they are willing to pay him for his service. But when it comes to you, Kinich appears as a different person. 

When he is with you, he is more expressive. Kinich always makes it a point to have you stay within his sight, not wanting you to stray away from him to the point he could not find you. The last thing he wants is for you to stumble into the jaws of danger and he doubts he could ever forgive himself for putting you in harm’s way. Once he deems you are steady enough to walk without his help, he moves away but still remains close; the thought behind his action makes your heart flutter in your chest. 

You inhaled and exhaled, breathing in the fresh air Natlan has to offer. “You know, no matter how many times I’ve come here, this view never fails to take my breath away.”

“Hm.” 

Kinichi said nothing, choosing to merely hum in response. He crossed his arms, standing slightly behind you on your right as he observed you from the corner of his eyes. He was able to get a glimpse of how your eyes drink in the scenery spread out before you, how your eyes literally twinkled in delight and joy and how your lips parted, forming a silent ‘O’ shape. The sight of you acting like a child stepping out to explore the outside world made his eyes softened. 

“Kinich, why are you standing there? Come here!” 

He blinked, caught off-guard when you dragged him forward with your fingers interlocked together; not like he has the intention of letting go in the first place. He eventually finds himself standing beside you, shoulders touching. Caressing your knuckles with his gloved fingers, he could not find it in himself to tear his eyes away from you.

“Hey, stop staring at me. It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, your cheeks flushing red the longer you felt his piercing gaze on you. 

“Nah, I prefer this view instead,” he teased, letting out a rare laugh when you smacked his shoulder, too flustered to utter a single word. 

All he could pray for was he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side and perhaps, he might find life to be more worth living for. 

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.

if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!

—Sole Survivor

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 

He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 

Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 

Alive.

It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.

And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 

“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 

“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 

You know your family loved you. 

“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 

“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 

“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 

“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 

You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 

“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 

“What, then?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”

He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.

You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 

“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 

“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 

“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”

You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 

“It’s a compliment.”

“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.

“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.

“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”

It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 

He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 

“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.

“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 

Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 

There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 

You wave enthusiastically back. 

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

[byuntrash101]

damnation of a saint (teaser)

pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating �� smut | mdni

wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3

a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3

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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.

a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3

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[justanerdy-gal]

"Do You Resent Me?" (Astarion x Tav)

-> pairing: Astarion x Tav -> content: fluff/angst -> summary: In which Tav wonders whether Astarion resents her for convincing him to choose to reject the Black Mass ritual and not Ascend. Full of angsty fluff.

-> notes: The finished version of the WIP I posted yesterday. Astarion & Tav draws all the angst and cheesy fluff out of me 🥹

——————

“Do you resent me?”

Astarion looks up, wearily, from the corner of the Elfsong Tavern room that they had been staying in for some time now.

“Darling….what would I have to resent you for…?”

You slowly walk over to his corner of the room, and sit beside him on the edge of the bed. You observe him as he turns his gaze over to the hands in his lap.

“It…just feels like…you may have made your choice because of…me.”

Astarion turns his head to look back at you, betraying nothing in those crimson eyes at the moment, but listening.

“If I wasn’t around….you would have been free to make the choice you always wanted,” you continued, your eyes glassing over as you ponder the thoughts that have been plaguing you since the moment Astarion made his choice in the Szarr palace.

“The freedom that you always craved… did I take that away from you?”

Astarion’s eyes widened as you made your declaration.

“You… think it wasn’t the right choice?”

“Not that,” you tried to clarify. “Maybe… maybe I don’t know what the right choice is. But what mattered is… your choice.”

“You trusted me. You trusted me with a choice that, in the end, goes back centuries…” your voice starts to shake. “A choice with consequences you must live with for…eternity.” You look up at him as tears finally threaten to pour from your eyes. “What right did I have, to ask you to sacrifice yourself to the shadows?”

Astarion stares at you as he ponders your statement. He looks away from you as he stares at the cracked, drying paint on the wall of the old room.

“I think about it every minute, every moment.” Astarion speaks slowly, softly. “I think about the colours of the city. The warmth of the rays at dawn, beckoning me towards the next day. I think about the sanguine hunger I have suffered for over 200 years, and how I could be free from that pain. Free from all limitations. And how that will never be now… once the parasite is destroyed.”

You look up at him in despair as your body threatens to let out a sob.

“And I think about… how it would never be enough.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. His gaze had softened as his fingers move to entwine in your own.

“I see the colours through your eyes, through the stories that you tell me of your adventures. I feel the warmth through your skin as you lay beside me every night.”

“And your blood can sate me better than any power can.” You giggle as he smirks, softly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Before you, before this nautiloid fiasco … I had no reason to want anything else but freedom and power. I only lived to escape what I was. I had everything to gain. And nothing to lose. So ofcourse, this Ascension seemed like an obvious choice.”

“But everything changed,” Astarion said breathily. “From the moment you wormed your way into my heart…you became a complication that I never expected. Suddenly, I had everything to lose.”

“I would have stayed,” you say thickly.

“I know you would,” Astarion says sadly, “but would you have been happy?”

“I probably would have been happy…happier than I was, for sure.” Astarion stares distantly at the wall as he speaks. “But where would that happiness end? What would sate me, if my happiness was dependent on power? I would have to take more, control more, be more…it is surely the fate that befell Cazador, that befalls all with power…more power than they know what to do with.” Astarion winces as he utters his late master’s name. “The need for power, for control, can never be sated. It would never be enough. Nothing would ever be enough.”

“But you, with me, here? That is enough. You are enough. We are enough.”

You pause as you ponder his words for a moment.

“Am I?” you whisper weakly as you stare at your entwined hands.

You feel the chill of his hands as they move up to hold your face tightly, and tilts your head up to look at him. The intensity in his eyes at that moment was like nothing you’ve ever seen on him before.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, staring fiercely into your eyes, as if he was speaking through to your soul. “There is nothing in the world that I wouldn’t sacrifice to remain here by your side. You are my eternity. My mad love. Besides,” Astarion smiles as he stares into your eyes. “I still think it was the right choice, regardless. If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d make the same choice. Every time.”

Astarion’s words cause the tears that you were holding back to creep up to the surface, as your body begins to wrack with heavy sobs, as you let out the doubt and fear that you have been holding since you both learned that the Ascension was a thing – since you have contemplated that potential decision every minute of every day, since the moment Astarion asked you to help him, and you convinced him to give away that power, to save those souls, to save himself. Astarion pulls your head to his chest and holds you tightly as you shake against him.

“My darling, why do you weep? Don’t sell yourself so short. No one else has a heart like you. You’re the only one,” Astarion whispers into your ear.

“I love you,” you declare into his shirt, tears still staining the soft, white material.

“I love you too,” Astarion says, leaning backward, pulling you down with him until he was laying on his back, with your head resting on his chest, hands softly caressing your hair. “I can’t imagine another way I would want to spend the rest of my days, my love. I’m not afraid – not anymore. And especially not of our future.”

And that is how you both fell asleep, with the two of you in eachother’s arms and your dreams of the future in eachother’s hearts.

——————

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

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[gghostwriter]

fluff request

Spencer reid x bee holding hands and skipping around. Pls and Thanks!

Love ur work!

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 1k A/N: Bear, so sorry it took a while but here is your request and its just pure loving fluff of Spencer falling deeper in love! Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

In the Ether. // Spencer Reid

It was a rarity for Spencer Reid to fly out of Virginia outside of work and for any other state than Las Vegas to visit his mother. It was even a rarer sight for him to be surrounded by green pastures until all the eyes could see and fading white picket fences that keep farm animals—cows, goats, and horses—safe from one another. He was a city boy through and through, after all. 

But here he was, experiencing the tranquility of living in a countryside with just the sounds of air rustling the trees and the harmonizing voices of all living animals found in the farm. It was how you grew up and you wanted him to meet your family while experiencing your quiet childhood in a small town, even just for a short weekend. 

“Well, what do you think?” You asked as you sat beside him on the rickety swing bench your father built on the front porch when you were ten years old. 

He smiled, grasping your hand into his before bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. “It’s beautiful and peaceful. I could see why you love it here.” 

“When I was a teenager, not so much—” you laughed at his incredulous expression. “—there’s really not much to do in a countryside town where everyone knows everyone, i promise—”

“So you dreamed of moving to a big city,” he added on. 

You nodded, watching the farm dogs herd a couple of sheep strays back to the flock. “Yup, so I applied to college in a big city and ended up missing the vast space and quiet after a few years. How cliché of me, don’t you think?”’

“No, not really. It made sense for you to miss what you once had,” his voice soft and soothing like a gentle, cooling breeze in an arid desert. He had a way of guiding your thoughts back to the light—a lighthouse that pierces through the grey fog guiding you boat back to shore. It was one of the qualities that made you grateful that he chose you the same way you’d choose him again and again if needed be. 

You stood up, shaking any melancholy. “Grab your book, Spence, let’s go visit my favorite tree up the hill.”

Laughing, he guided you inside to the guest room you both will occupy and proceeded to pull out an obscure Quantum Mechanics copy from his satchel.

You shook your head, only Spencer would decide to bring an academic book as a form of light reading.

With your chosen book on hand and a picnic blanket on the other, you shouted out loud your destination for anyone to hear around the house and proceeded to pull your boyfriend of one year outside the back door with a bounce in your step.

The excitement that seemed to vibrate out of you was so contagious that Spencer found himself skipping at your same beat. Hands together swinging between your bodies, he had never felt any more weightless and unfettered by the grim reality his cases had to offer. 

Halfway through, you could spot the colossal Sycamore tree that you called your own. It had been nicknamed as yours by the family ever since you fell asleep under it at a tender age of four. It had been your own space, your own solace when you wanted to be alone. It was such an extension of you that you wanted to share its existence to the one you hoped to share the rest of your life with.

You squeezed his hand, signaling him to a stop. 

“What is it, sweetheart?”

A mischievous twinkle in your eyes clued him in before any word was even uttered.

“Race you!” You bolted, the loose skirt of your cotton dress sticking to your legs as you picked up speed. 

Both your laughters echoing in the air, mixing with the chatter of the nearby ducks, as if you and him were still kids, free from responsibility and unabashed with glee—like everything was simple in life.

With a smile threatening to split his cheeks from happiness, he loved seeing you run across the vibrant green field, sneakers leaving imprints on the moist soil, and tendrils of your long hair trailing behind you. Everything about the moment was precious. Everything about you was ethereal. A forest nymph that had bewitched him body and soul. A woodland sprite coloring his barren wasteland of life in a multitude of colors he can never hope to name. A beloved that he wishes to cherish until the end of time.

You turned around with a smile on your face, having reached the destination first and as if the skies needed him to fall any deeper for you, a soft warm sunlight streamed through the leaves, giving you a golden halo like you were some kind of goddess here on Earth, meant just for him. 

Spencer went with instinct, untethered and uncaring for anyone to see. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, twirling you around with your giggles as the music before bringing you back down to Earth and leaning in to give you a slow, soft kiss. A motion so loving that had you melting in his arms, hands clutching his button down, afraid for the moment to end. 

He leaned back a sliver. Far enough for breeze to pass between your lips but close enough for your noses to still be touching.

Eyes staring into yours, warm and golden like the morning sun breaking from the horizon, he uttered the truth of his devotion.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[themotherofhorses]

‘22!simon riley x fem!reader x ‘09!simon riley

warnings: smut. threesome. fingering. allusions to an age gap relationship/relationship between a superior and subordinate. ending open to more future smut.

As I was discussing with @cloudofbutterflies92:

Imagine being sandwiched between ‘09!Ghost and ‘22!Ghost.

Somehow— to be fair, you still don’t know all the details —Ghost’s variant appeared on base; just randomly one October evening, when the 141 was hunkered down in a break room, piled around a TV replaying a previous football match (“Soccer. It’s called soccer, fucking heathens.”).

Well, at least, you assumed him to be his variant; he bore a striking resemblance to your Simon—only years younger, and a tiny bit shorter in height. Yet, the skull-patterned balaclava, shades, and grey-hooded, zipped sweatshirt with the Union Jack patch and insane amount of pockets were the exact same. The sight gave you butterflies in your tummy. 

For the most part, though, you maintained a respectful distance from him—that Ghost, that Simon Riley. 

“Can I refer to him as Poltergeist?”  “Eh, love. Do whatever the hell you want.”

You were Simon Riley’s girl, but he was not your Simon; far from it, in fact. Your Simon was years older, rougher around the edges, with a foul mouth, dry humor, and scars that littered his temple and left cheek. 

Would it still count as cheating? 

Whatever. You refused to think more of it, instead choosing to stow that thought away in the far corner of your mind as you continued on with your main duties and day-to-day routines. By all means, such thinking teetered into dangerous waters — it could be seen as infidelity, which meant a likelihood of losing Simon. You couldn’t survive without him, not without your Simon; he was your soulmate, the same way you were his. 

Which, by extension, meant you were that Simon’s soulmate as well. 

Not that it registered to you, of course. Simon says you’re a bit clueless when it comes to recognizing those little signs; it makes sense — prior to your relationship, you had no idea how obsessed your Lieutenant was with you, and that those lingering touches, soft glances, and praises were not normal between a superior and his subordinate. He calls it endearing (“You’re so clueless, baby. God, what would I do without ya?”). 

Simon— your Simon —knows that his variant wants you. 

It was easy for him to see. Simon Riley loves you so much; he is so unbelievably obsessed with your pretty self, so it made perfect sense for his variant to be equally obsessed with you, too. How could he not be? From the delicious curve of your hipbones, twinkling eyes, and soft hands (so much smaller than his) to the way your plush lips pout, everything about you is utter perfection to him. 

(There is probably no universe out there where he isn’t so fucking deeply in love with you, he tells himself.)

So when his variant’s own blue eyes start following you around anytime you’re in the same room as him (Simon knows he’s licking his lips beneath the balaclava, dirty bloke), instead of feeling jealous, Simon feels— 

—something else. 

Pride. Satisfaction. A bit devilish.

Simon won’t ever share you with anyone else. You’re his. Only he is allowed to see you breathless and whining beneath him, cheeks flushed, soaking the bedsheet as your body ruts against his, soft voice begging for his cock. Other men can dream, but only he lives out those wet dreams. 

But that Simon is still Simon. 

His eyes are almost the same; the bright blueness carries the exact trauma, hardness, and wariness, made from years of childhood abuse and depression. He has the hands once used in the butcher shop, and the long, thin scar on the back of his neck, where his bastard of a father slammed a beer bottle down during a drunken frenzy. The only difference, however, is that his variant still hasn’t found his main reason to live: 

You.

You’re the medicine to Simon’s soul. The first time he gazed into your eyes, he knew he found his reason to continue living in this shitty world; and the first time he stuffed you full of his cock, molding your previously untouched cunt to the shape of him, he told himself there was no way for him to live without you. How he survived this far without you, he’ll never know.

Therefore, he’ll call it a dosage.

You’d call it a threesome. 

He has you seated on the living room couch, legs spread apart wide as both Simons have their hands buried deep in your pretty cunt—stretching you out more than what you’re used to. You take turns sloppily making out with both men, their massive cocks held in your hands as your tongue entangles with theirs.

“Oh…oh my god,” you mewl, suddenly flinging your head back as their thick fingers piston in and out of your tiny hole; there is a soft, squelching sound that fills the room as they repeatedly slide through your juices.

“Bloody hell, she’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” the younger Simon groans, bending down to suck on your nipple. He runs his free hand over your other breast, teasing your sensitive nub with his thumb. “Lucky bastard.” 

Your Simon smirks at that. “She loves havin’ her pretty pussy played with. Aye, don’t ya, love?” His fingers curl to hit that spongy g-spot that causes you to shriek and squirm and see stars, your pussy tightening around him. Simon grits his teeth. “Look at ya, baby…all flushed and panting.” He picks up the pace, thrusting his two fingers faster.

“C’mon, pretty girl," he further coos, tucking a strand behind your ear. "Be a good girl and cum all over our hands, yeah?” 

You nod, bucking your hips to follow their thrusts, in sheer desperation for your orgasm. The younger Simon leaves wet kisses along your jawline, lathering the skin around your mouth with his tongue. “God, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against your skin with a deep, guttural moan, his fingers continuing to fuck your pussy, with his thumb rubbing your puffy, little clit roughly. 

“Tastes good for a Yank, huh?”

“I could survive off of her for life.”

Your back arches from the overstimulation, a puddle of salva pooling at the edge of your swollen lips. “Si—SIMON, FUCK.” You’re not sure which Simon the moan is meant to be for, and you’re also not sure how much longer you’re gonna last; your pussy is only becoming wetter, and you’re unable to muster out any words. “P-please, please, p-please.”

“Good fucking girl. That’s it. Cum for us. Cum for your men.” 

Meanwhile, younger Simon kisses the side of your mouth, pumping his fingers inside your poor pussy faster. “C’mon, love. Lemme feel you cum.” 

“Cum on our fingers—” your Simon mumbles in your ear again, pausing to suck your earlobe between his lips. He gives it a gentle tug with his teeth, making you squeak.“—like a good girl, and you’ll get your pussy eaten. Sounds good, yeah, don’t it, baby?” 

“Simon,” you whine out, oh so prettily. 

He grins. “C’mon, baby. That’s my good girl. Gimme  it—I know you can, pretty girl.” 

His words do it for you. With a loud, high-pitched moan, your mouth drops in a perfect, little ‘o’ as you shriek, gushing around their fingers, feeling a sharp orgasm raking across your body. Your legs shake while you fall limp against the couch’s cushion, breathing heavily. 

“Holy shit,” the younger Simon breathes while pulling his fingers out of your pussy. Would you look at that? In the room’s lighting, he can see the way they glisten with a mess of your juices, staring down at it with a mix of admiration, awe, and pure lust.

“Fuck.” He raises them to his mouth, slowly sucking off your essence with a low mmmm. “So fuckin’ good.” 

"Yeah?"

"Bloody fuckin' lucky bloke you are, mate."

"I know."

Their back-and-forth banter makes you giggle. "God," you pant, all flushed and covered in countless hickies. “Can’t drive for shit but knows how to give a girl a damn good orgasm.” 

“Hey,” your Simon chuckles, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t start with that shit, love.” He gives your forehead a kiss before gently caressing your chin, “Why don’t ya spread your thighs again and give him a taste, right from the source, hm?”  

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐6𝐭𝐡 - 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐮𝐧

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. Nanami has been fantasising about the reader, wanting to bring her down with him in temptation, as he interrupts her daily rosary prayers (wc: 1.9k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!nun!reader x priest!Kento Nanami. 18+ smut mdni, priest and nun (please if you find this offensive don't read you're only hurting yourself if you continue), dirty talk, Nanami is called 'Father' it's just a priest thing not a daddy or ddlg kink in this context, groping, mild choking, spitting (Nanami spits holy water in the readers mouth), oral/blowjob, and facial -> you've been warned; continue at your down discretion.

You began your evening the way you always did—in the hushed quiet of the chapel—with the smooth beads of the rosary threaded between your fingers in a night of solitude. You could smell the thick scent of incense, a faint curl of smoke spiralling towards the vaulted ceiling, carrying your prayers in line with it. Each time a bead is placed in your fingertips, the padding of the texture gives a cool of reassurance within you, anchoring you in the moment and grounding you to the words you expressed to your lord as your vision was eigengrau as you let the prayers lingering off your whispering lips. Your lips moved into soft murmurs, your hands clasped together, as you let the words flow like steam when uttering the hail mary, steady and unbroken like you thought your faith was. 

That repetition, every single day, soothed you. Each prayer helped you feel tranquillity, pulling you close to your communication with God. 

However, the rhythmic sense of grounding and spirituality was broken when you heard a familiar, deep-toned voice. 

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you, Sister,” Father Nanami said as he watched your form on your knees before the crucifix, your hand clasped, and the beads adorning your fingers. 

“Oh, hello, Father. Did you need anything today?” you asked softly, naive and too innocent to decode the way he sauntered over to you, stepping behind you and watching your vulnerable form be engulfed by his shadow. 

He had been fantasising about you often, ever since the first day you joined his church and were constantly under his watch. You were a tease incarnate; everything about you was so tantalising, even in the modest clothing of a nun; it left too much to the imagination as he wondered what feminine shape would be underneath the black and white layers of cloth you had surrounding you. 

“I’ve been watching you for a bit now, Sister,” he whispered as his hands started to travel down to your shoulders, making your breath hitch as you felt his heavy touch, “Does constantly praying satisfy you?”

“I mean… You’re a priest; it satisfies you, no?” 

“No… It bores me, and I regret choosing this life.” 

His tone was so blunt and made your eyes widen. 

“You can’t say that, Father, no, no, no, you’re just stressed or something, you shouldn’t speak ill of the Lord!” 

“Oh, but I will… This life is nothing but serving someone or something that never recognises the trials we go through,” he was so solemn in his tone. 

Nanami had been regretting this path for too long but never wanted to admit it to himself; he thought it was just a phase of temptation, but when he saw you, it confirmed how he could no longer worship the lord when all he wanted to do was worship you, to take you down with him where the lustful sinners dwell. 

“Don’t you ever think about it… Leaving and actually living.”

“But we will be punished in the next life if we do.” 

“Ah yes, punishment and consequence, sin and shame… What a misery.”

“What’s gotten into you, Father?”

“You.” 

“Me, I-”

“You’re constantly on my mind and-”

Nanami dipped down from his towering height to watch your jittering gaze, whispering to you. 

“Let me have you; no one will know.”

“The Lord will know.”

“I’m sure he can forgive us… he’s the one that made temptation so strong,” his whispers lingered and caused arousal to spiral within your core, making a broken rise and falling of your chest as your breathing pattern started to become laboured under his controlling presence. 

As you tried to divert and look back to the crucifix to guide you out of his temptation, his large hand collected around your small throat, making your gaze look at him. His face was so near now that you could feel the warmth of his breath. Before you could register the intention or even fabricate a denial, he tilted a vial over his lips, holy water touching and collecting in his mouth; you were confused at first until he broke ambiguity and squished the cheeks of your mouth open, and letting it dribble out of his warm mouth into yours. 

The water was warm as it slipped between your lips and down your frail throat, a holy stream shared between you two, almost like a taboo ritual that should have never seen the light. For a moment, you were frozen in time, but as you tasted the water and looked into his dilated stare, you felt yourself soften and fold under his will like it was completely of your volition. Your mind kept racing about how this should be stopped, but the only sanctity you cared about now was the intimacy you shared between you in the lord's house. 

He leaned in more after you gulped down the last drop with a few escaped droplets down your chin and puddled at the cloth clothing your chest; you were a sight to behold, and Nanami wasn’t going to waste time in his appreciation as he collided his soft lips with your glossy ones, making you release a soft hum of pleasure as his tongue plunged and explored your warm mouth. Letting his slender fingers finally take the opportunity to grope and grab at your plush breasts through your clothes, feeling his cock grow harder the more he squeezed onto the mounds of your chest, only one of the parts of your body he had been fantasising in his bed alone 

“F-father, we shouldn’t do this,” you whispered when he leaned back to catch his breath. 

“Stop acting like you don’t want this,” he hissed, “I can see the way you look at me; you want this, just admit it.”

His grip on your neck tightened at the sides, making you release a soft gasp as he softly choked you; that warm puddle developing in your panties was a constant dirty reminder of how much you did want this. You had sworn a life to God, to not give into carnal lust, and to focus on building your relationship with the only entity that was supposed to love you in this life and the next, but now you were given a hurdle you didn’t want to overcome. Instead, you wanted it, him, to overpower you as you felt the heat radiate off of Nanami. 

“Now, will you admit and submit? Let me be your god tonight and have me and only me in your mind tonight.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Right choice.” 

Those words made your core flutter, making your chest jitter in a broken and laboured breathing pattern; you were no longer a child of God, you were Eve being cast out, you weren’t the Virgin Mary… no… you were worse. You were the child of Lilith as you settled into your ecstasy when you watched Father Nanami turn your innocent prayers to corrupt whines and desperation for lust. 

There’s no escaping him.

There’s no want to escape him. 

Father Nanami’s lip curled into a smirk, proud of himself for taking you off that pedestal and having you come crashing down from grace like Lucifer did when he fell from the heavens; he had wanted this for too long, and this was a treat he could now enjoy. He slowly took his fingers and exposed your silky hair, making you close your eyes as you pressed your head into his touch. He touched and smoothed over your hair through the strands, making you release soft hums of pleasure as you got lost in the ride of ecstasy given to you by him. This grounded you more than the prayers; they gave you piece, but Father Nanami gave you satisfaction and filled that emptiness you had harboured for too long. 

“Strip for me,” he whispered in his carnal lust, and you quickly obeyed as you lifted your dark clothing and exposed your body to him, watching as the bulge in his pants grew when you stayed on your knees in a red lace bra and panties set. 

You had never shown yourself like this before; the only thing that saw your exposed body was the mirror itself in your room or bathroom. You had joined the church at a young age, avoiding college to dedicate your life, and now here you were, giving into the temptations you swore never to do, and in the Lord's house no less. 

“I’m gonna use that pretty mouth of yours,” he whispered as he unzipped his pants, exposing his large and throbbing erection to spring in front of you and making your pussy have a tingling sensation as you watched the pearled dribbled of pre-release travel down his shaft inviting you to take him and wrap your glossy lips around his sex. 

“How do I do this?” you whispered timidly.

“Just wrap your mouth and suck it… No different to sucking a lollipop,” he gave you a condescending smile as he tangled his hands at the back of your head, guiding you further until you tasted the tangy saltness of his tip press against your lips before you opened wide and took him in. 

This was ungodly, sinful, but it felt so good as your eyes fluttered up, and he bucked his hips slowly and watched your lips wrap around his shaft, feeling your wet and hot tongue along his prominent vein. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispered as he held your hand down and used your throat for his own corrupting needs, “Aah, you’re a natural at this.” He continued to praise you as he gathered your hair into a tight grip and started to ram his large cock down your throat.

In your response, you pressed your fingers into his thighs and held on as your moans sent vibrations down to his cock and made his chest flutter. You could feel yourself get wet, feeling slick drip down into the lace barrier the more you felt the tip of his cock bruise the back of your throat. You couldn’t help but gag as he rocked his hips further into your tight throat, letting your gaze divot from all places in the room until you saw the crucifix, looking at the man you were supposed to be loyal to, who died for your salvation… and this is how you were repaying him. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Father Nanami whispered as he tugged your head back, “you serve me now.” 

You couldn’t help but release a moan as a gush of release came passing down and trickling from your sex and down your inner thighs. You were so ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t want to stop; you wanted to serve him, to have him use you as a cocksleeve; your body was responsive to him, and you were not going to refuse your needs as well as his. 

“You want me to cum all over that pretty face?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks to draw him in further. You looked at the cross necklace that dangled from his neck and in front of your peripheral, a constant reminder of your need to repent.

He groaned as his head fell back, giving you the view of his prominent and bopping Adam’s apple as he painted your features white, letting his cum drip down your features and onto your cleavage as you looked up at him like a messy puppy; all his to play with whenever he wanted to now. 

This is a sin, but you love this sin; this is a sin you’re indulging in together. 

You two were forever connected in the name of the Father, the Son and the holy spirit. 

🏷️taglist: (im sorry to be tagging people i'm just catching up on the day i took off) @wintrrxxo @bratbby333 @localkiss @styrofoamplat3s @imaniitheoneee -> check my pinned for taglist; message to be deleted from it

a/n: sorry for the dual posting today, i'm just catching up after i took a day off from being in pain, so please forgive me. also yes i am aware my writing is getting shit, after kinktober im taking a break and taking time to give writing i believe is good.

[norrizzandpia]

Masterlist 2

Lando Norris:

It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here

It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

A Sign Of My Love

In which Lando chooses the most obvious way to declare his love for his best friend and she is the only one who doesn’t get it.

All He Needed Was Her

Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

A Second Chance

Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

You Were Never What I Wanted, Pt. 2

Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Ski Trips and Smiles

A proposal on a snowy ski trip.

Showing You My Love

McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

One-Sided Fake Dating Pt. 2

When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Love You the Way I Do

When Y/n starts to pull back, Lando knows exactly what to do.

When?

Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.

Safe With Me, Love

When a man at a club makes Y/n uncomfortable, touching her, grabbing her, Lando’s the first to stop it.

The First Time

In the midst of the dirtiest act, Lando’s loose lips stall his impending orgasm.

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean.

Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

My Coat, Your Coat

Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Whatcha Readin’?

It was a good story, that was her only argument.

Look How Amazing You Are

After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.

Sparkling Eyes

When Y/n is distracted, Lando usually takes the opportunity to admire her. Although, this time, he has an audience.

She Calls Me Daddy Too

When Y/n and Lando are having dinner at her house with her parents, Y/n asks her father to pass the salt. Too bad she didn’t specify which one she was referring to.

His

When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

I’ve Got You

In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Lala

When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

My Name

Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.

We Can Be Kids For Right Now

When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Wrong Number, Right Person

A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

HE WON! LAN WON!

A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Olive

After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead

Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Can You See Me Using Everything To Hold Back

Lando and Y/n have always been as close as can be, but unresolved and disregarded feelings threaten everything they thought they once knew.

Oscar Piastri:

British v. American

In which Oscar tries to teach his girlfriend how to drive in England. The only catch? She’s never driven on the other side of the road. Oh, and she’s never driven anywhere else except for California.

Don’t Worry Everyone. I’m Alive.

The fans love her, so when they hear their favorite driver, her boyfriend, killed her, they aren’t happy.

Sleeping Buddies or Dating?

Oscar and Y/n love to sleep next to each other. They don’t love each other. That’s it.

Storms

Where Y/n hates thunder storms and Oscar’s the only person who can calm her down.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby

There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

When’s It My Turn

When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Chuck a Uey

Blurb when Non-Australian!Reader misses a turn and Oscar tells her to “chuck a uey”. Long story short, she has absolutely no clue what that means.

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen

Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Just Benefits Right Now

It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

[softsturn]

the beach - m.s

⩩ pairing: matt x fem!reader

⩩ summary: matt is caught jerking off to his best friend (inspired by @heartstreet !! full creds to them for this idea)

⩩ warnings: masturbation, handjob, p-in-v, half assed writing at the end.

⩩ a/n: sorry i haven’t posted much, its been so hard to think of ideas. i wanted to make a part two of what i last posted but i literally don’t know how to continue it😭 thank you for all the likes and follows!! pls leave me requests :)

Describing the bond between you and Matt exceeds the simplicity a mere friendship. Growing up, you lived only a few houses away from his, you shared the same schools, and practically every experience was a joint venture. It wasn't just common knowledge; it was an undeniable truth that wherever you went, a blue-eyed boy with brown hair was sure to follow, mirroring your every step like a lost puppy. The invisible tie binding you two seemed unbreakable, preventing you from straying far apart.

Now, at Cape Cod, a destination woven into the fabric of your cherished summer memories, you eagerly await Matt and his family’s arrival. Setting up foldable chairs and towels on the sandy shores, you can hardly contain your anticipation, eager to continue the tradition of shared moments under the sun.

As if on cue, his family strolled towards the beach, carrying an assortment of towels, bags, chairs, and a cooler. Your face lit up with a vibrant smile upon spotting the three identical boys approaching with palpable excitement. They placed their belongings on the sand, and you greeted them eagerly.

Matt's eyes widened noticeably, practically popping out of his sockets as he unabashedly drank in the sight of you. While you maintained your usual level of beauty, his gaze lingered on your figure. Stepping out of your comfort zone, you had chosen a two-piece bikini opposed to a one piece like you normally wore, showcasing newfound confidence in your evolving body. The swimsuit hugged you in all the right places, baring your torso and clinging snugly to your curves. Matt found himself caught in a momentary, lustful gaze, slightly zoning out as Nick and Chris enthusiastically hyped you up in the background.

"You look so good girl!" exclaimed Nick, with Chris joining in laughter, while you, feeling a bit shy, crossed your arms over your stomach.

Coming back to reality from his fleeting thoughts, Matt nodded and offered you a small, genuine smile. "You look..." he hesitated, carefully choosing his words to avoid any discomfort for you. "Pretty," he mumbled sheepishly, prompting a soft blush to grace your face. Matt's compliments held a unique significance, seeming to carry more weight than others, his opinion reigning supreme in your mind.

"Thank you," you replied with a shy giggle, while Nick and Chris exchanged amused glances, furrowing their brows at the subtle dynamics unfolding between the two of you. The unspoken connection, the palpable undercurrent of something more than friendship, was evident to everyone around. Jokes from your parents about an impending marriage and teasing from Matt's brothers were constant reminders of the unspoken truth – you and Matt shared a love that transcended platonic feelings, even if the explicit words hadn't been uttered.

After a few hours under the warm sun, the faint emergence of sunburn and light freckles adorned your face, telling tales of days spent soaking up the heat. Meanwhile, Matt wrestled with his thoughts, a delicate balance between loyalty to your friendship and the desire that threatened to breach inappropriate territories. He harbored a profound fear of jeopardizing the trust you shared or causing any discomfort, acutely aware that losing you was a risk he couldn't fathom.

As you stood, engrossed in gathering your belongings and bending over slightly, Matt couldn't suppress the way his gaze involuntarily traced the curves of your figure, particularly fixating on your ass. His mind danced with forbidden scenarios, imagining actions he both longed for and felt conflicted about. Sensing a warmth spreading through him, he nervously looked away, trying to prevent any telltale signs of his internal struggle.

You straightened up, holding your possessions with a toothy grin, completely oblivious to the subtle turmoil in Matt's mind. "I'll see you back at the house," you said softly. Matt offered a slight nod and joined his brothers in packing up their belongings. As you made your way to your car, your parents loading up the trunk, you settled into the back seat, succumbing slowly to sleep, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you.

Waking up with a groan, you found your parents' car parked by the side of the road in front of the triplets' house, just a few doors down from your own. The plan was to spend the night at their place, a routine that had become usual given your inclination to seek comfort in their home over your own. Extracting yourself from the car, you grabbed your overnight bag, bidding farewells to your parents as you watched them drive away.

Your bathing suit clung persistently to your body, your hair still damp, and the weariness in your limbs yearning for the promise of relaxation. Shuffling into Matt's home without bothering to knock, the unspoken familiarity of years spent together allowed you the privilege of simply letting yourself in. Passing through the kitchen, Matt's parents greeted you with warm smiles as you entered the living room.

There, Matt, Nick, and Chris were sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a movie that you were sure they had seen at least a thousand times. When Matt's eyes met yours, a soft expression played on his face, evident in the effort to maintain eye contact with your face rather than letting his gaze wander.

"Hey," he murmured, and you returned the greeting with a gentle smile, playfully ruffling his hair as you stood over him. "Hey, I'm gonna go shower. I'll join you guys if you're still out here when I'm done." With that, you ventured down the hall, heading toward the guest bedroom.

In the midst of a hot shower, as you washed away the residue of salty water and sand, Matt and his brothers grew disinterested in the movie, dispersing to their separate bedrooms. Collapsing onto his bed with a weary sigh, exhaustion permeated Matt's body. Turning to his phone, he absentmindedly scrolled through various social media apps. Refreshing his Instagram feed, he stumbled upon a recent post you had shared before stepping into the shower.

The post featured a series of photos taken by Nick during your beach outing. One image captured you from the side, accentuating your ass and curves, while another showcased the contours of your cleavage and perky boobs from the front. Although the intention behind the pictures was innocent, Matt's mind became inundated with impure thoughts. Consumed by a sense of guilt, he recognized the inappropriateness of his desires, grappling with conflicting emotions. You were his best friend, and he was acutely aware that such lascivious thoughts were unwarranted. It was more than mere lust; he harbored genuine love for you and a desire to be a person deserving of your affection.

As Matt stared at his screen, a warmth enveloped his body, and he found himself unable to suppress the physical reaction, a boner forming in his pants. He felt conflicted, but it wasn’t like you knew what he was thinking, or doing. Succumbing to the intensity of his desire, he pulled his pants down enough to free himself, his cock springing out of his boxers. He took his cock into his right hand, phone in his left hand, and he began to stroke himself, allowing his imagination to run wild with scenarios that had occupied his dreams. The room echoed with subtle grunts and whimpers as he finally started to release the pent-up feelings that had plagued him throughout the day.

You emerged from the invigorating shower, enveloped in a towel, the sensation of cleanliness and renewal coursing through you. Exiting the bathroom, you ventured into the guest bedroom designated for your night's rest, shutting the door behind you. As you delved into your bag, extracting essentials like panties, shorts, and a tank top, the soft fabrics embraced you once you shed the towel. Nighttime rituals of hair brushing, skincare, and teeth cleaning completed, you settled into the guest bedroom, a sanctuary that had become almost like your own.

The tranquility was fleeting, interrupted by a shiver that prompted a quest for warmth. Rummaging through your bag, you discovered the absence of a hoodie – an oversight that led you down the hall to Matt's bedroom. Assuming he'd still be awake, you envisioned a simple request to borrow one of his hoodies. Little did you anticipate the unexpected scene awaiting you.

Without bothering to knock, a habit formed over years of friendship, you barged into Matt's room, focused on your hoodie mission. "I need to borrow a hoodie; it's freezing—" your words trailed off as your gaze absorbed the shocking sight. Matt, in his bed, his hand pumping up and down his cock, his phone displaying pictures of you. A gasp escaped him as your presence registered, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and guilt. "Y/N..." he uttered, his phone slipping from his hand onto the bed, his hand movements abruptly halted in the realization of the awkward situation.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry; I didn't think—I should've knocked. I'll just go get one from Nick," you mumbled nervously, ready to retreat. The air hung heavy with the unspoken tension, both of you grappling with the potential ramifications on your friendship. Before you could exit, Matt called to you, conflicted between wanting you to stay and the desire to erase this awkward moment.

"Don't go," he uttered, wincing at his own words, attempting to clarify that he wasn't making advances or asking for anything. You stood there, caught in a surreal tableau, uncertain about how to navigate this unexpected revelation. Blinking in an attempt to regain composure, you voiced a question laden with curiosity and awkwardness.

"Do you... do this often?" your brows furrowed, your gaze drifting toward his needy cock. Matt sighed, grappling with shame, attempting to rein in his emotions. "Jerk off? Or jerk off to you..." he replied, injecting a hint of humor to alleviate the palpable tension.

"Jerk off to me," you clarified, offering a sheepish smile, grateful for his attempt to inject some levity. Matt, in a vulnerable admission, stumbled through an explanation, striving to avoid sounding like a creep. The guilt weighed heavily on him, sensing that he had betrayed the sanctity of your friendship.

"This is the first time—I'm sorry. You just looked so pretty all day, and I couldn't... I don't know," he rambled, his remorse evident. Expecting you to recoil, Matt braced for the consequences of his impure thoughts. Yet, to his surprise, you stepped closer, the bed dipping as you sat on the edge near his legs. Your eyes danced everywhere but on his throbbing cock.

"It's okay; I'm not mad," you reassured, the tension easing with your understanding words. In that moment, you appreciated the side of Matt that could inject humor even into the most awkward situations, and despite the strangeness of the circumstance, a reassuring smile graced your lips.

"You're not?" he asked, confusion etching his face as his gaze reached the end of the bed where you were. The bewilderment stemmed from the expectation of your anger; he believed he deserved your fury. You shook your head, dispelling any doubts that lingered in his mind. "I'm not mad," you affirmed, inhaling deeply before contemplating the weight of your next words. The undeniable truth of their mutual feelings lay bare, an unignorable reality that both had been evading.

"Do you want me to help you?" you inquired, addressing the underlying tension. Matt hesitated, shaking his head in a refusal. Your offer, though tempting, made him reluctant, not wanting you to feel obliged, and questioning his own worthiness of such an intimate gesture. “Y/N… you don’t have to.”

Sighing, you crawled to sit on his knees, his cock twitching right before you, aching for release. It wasn't about obligation; it was about love. You wanted to be the one to bring him pleasure. "I know, I want to," you reassured, meeting his gaze as he deliberated. "Please," he whimpered, desperation evident on his face. Taking it as a signal, you palmed him, your hand trembling slightly as you sought confirmation in his eyes, ensuring every move was met with consent.

As you encountered nothing but longing in his gaze, your hand tentatively began to move, gliding up and down his length. The unspoken revelation that you were not very experienced was apparent to him, and a twinge of guilt crept in as he allowed you to pleasure him. Determined not to make this solely about his satisfaction, he seized the moment, grasping your wrist and redirecting your hand away from his arousal, prompting you to lean forward.

In an impulsive move, he pressed his lips forcefully against yours, his tongue seeking entry, savoring the taste of your chapstick. The kiss bore neither aggression nor softness; instead, it carried the weight of years filled with tension, prolonged gazes, and lingering touches, finally unfurling in this shared moment. Pulling back slightly, he noticed your lips chasing after his, seeking more contact with his lips.

"I want to make you feel good too," he murmured against your lips, his words flushing your face with heat, a wetness growing between your legs. The dynamics shifted, and now it was you yearning for him. His hands found your hips, drawing you closer until you straddled his waist, your clothed pussy pressing against his cock. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties, seeking consent as he looked up at you.

"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked, and in response, you nodded, lifting yourself to allow him to slide them down your legs before resuming the straddled position, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

You took a sharp breath, nerves tingling as you ventured into unfamiliar territory with Matt. As he ran a finger through your wet folds, he licked his lips, captivated by the sight of your pretty pussy. In that moment, Matt would have done anything and everything you asked, he was completely at your mercy. Firmly holding your hips, he allowed your wet cunt to hover over his cock. While his desires tempted him to force you down and make you take it, his deep care for you held him back, especially given the significance of this being your first time.

"Go slow, okay? It's going to hurt a little, but I'm right here," he said. Nodding, you began the descent, wincing as his tip slipped into your enterance. "Oh my god, Matt," you moaned, your words interrupted as Matt leaned up, pressing his lips to yours to stifle your sweet sounds, mindful of his brothers sleeping down the hall.

Gradually, you took more of him in, whimpering at the initial stinging sensation as his cock stretched your tight walls. Eventually, you lowered yourself completely onto him, pausing to adjust to the sensation of him buried deep inside you. "Such a good girl, taking me so well," he cooed.

“Feels so good,” you murmured, the words escaping on a breath as you began to move your hips against him, keeping a steady rhythm. He gripped your hips firmly, and you were sure there would be red marks left behind. His kisses trailed down your neck, lips brushing over your collarbones and shoulders, marking you with purposeful hickeys that finally declared you as his, even though you had always belonged to him.

Slowly, he lifted your tank top over your head, tossing it aside in the room's shadows. "So fucking pretty," he mumbled, his gaze lingering on you through half-lidded eyes. His mouth descended, lavishing much-needed attention on your boobs, kissing and licking your sensitive nipples with devotion. In his eyes, your body was a masterpiece, and he aimed to ensure you knew just how perfect you were. Every gesture was a testament to his worship, eliciting small moans of pleasure as you succumbed to the sensations he bestowed upon you.

"Faster, please," he choked out, a desperate need cracking his voice as he trailed kisses down the valley of your breasts. Swiftly obeying, you quickened the pace, moaning as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Yet, the soreness lingering from your day at the beach made it challenging. Matt noticed, his hands helping to move your hips, orchestrating a rhythm that heightened the pleasure. He began to thrust into you, hips meeting yours, intensifying the sensation.

Throwing your head back, eyes rolling, pleasure consumed you, a knot tightening in your stomach. One of his hands left your hip, moving downward, his thumb expertly circling your swollen clit. Overwhelmed, words escaped you, your mind consumed by him. "Fuck, Matt," you managed to whimper in your love-drunk state, a proud smirk gracing his lips as he witnessed you lost in pleasure, knowing he was the only one to evoke such a response.

"Cum for me, princess," he urged in a whiny, broken voice, his own release imminent. His words triggered your climax, a stream of mumbled curses and whines escaping you as pleasure saturated every inch of your being. Surrendering to the intensity, you abandoned your movements, letting him guide and sway you through the waves of orgasmic ecstasy. His release followed suit, white streams of cum shooting into you, accompanied by his whimpering and grunting.

As the movements ceased, he lay beneath you, both of you attempting to catch your breath. Gingerly lifting yourself off him, a wince accompanied the sensitivity as his cock withdrew from your cunt. Rolling over, you nestled next to him, curling into his side, a lazy hand draped over his waist. His hand found its way to your head, tenderly stroking your hair as you rested against his chest, syncing your breathing with his.

"Get some rest; I'm taking you on a date tomorrow," he grinned mischievously, planting light kisses on your forehead. Raising your head, curiosity piqued, you questioned, "A date?" He nodded, gently pushing your head back to his chest, his fingers continuing to stroke your hair in a soothing rhythm.

"A date. So I can ask you to be my girlfriend," he chuckled, of course Matt wanted to do things right despite having just fucked you dumb. You chuckled in response, appreciating Matt's intent. "Okay, I can't wait to say yes," you declared, both of you closing your eyes, eager for the embrace of sleep and the beginning of this new chapter in your relationship.

[lady-dulcinea]

Something the October 11th entry really highlights is how much Mina and Jonathan are sure about each other. How much they know each other to the point they can read each other without any perceived difficulty, and how their devotion, their partnership, although treasured and seamlessly reciprocated by both, is never even questioned by them.

When Mina receives news that Jonathan is alive, she goes, an unmarried and unaccompanied woman, all the way to find him and marry him, even tho he’s still traumatised, half mad from his stay at Castle Dracula, and in the eyes of society could very much be considered an “invalid”. But she marries him anyway, and although Jonathan does gently reaffirm the delicate state of his body and specially his mind, he never really seems overly surprised that she chose him despite it all. And in the same entry we see a similar reaction from Mina when Sister Agatha feels the need to inform her that she shouldn’t worry that Jonathan’s malady might be because of some other woman; she all but scoffs at the idea, because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course there isn’t another woman. Similarly, as she eventually makes acquaintance with several men, all of them rich bachelors who grow a quick and openly affectionate bond with her, Jonathan has not a single moment of insecurity about it. Of course they all love Mina, why wouldn’t they? Jealousy requires a certain lack of confidence in your partner that neither of them has. Their worries concerning each other are always ALWAYS directed at external influences: That something will hurt them, or that something will keep them from each other.

Which brings us to October 11th, when that sureness is brought to it’s highest, most tragic peak. Jonathan knew what Mina intended calling them all to meet her before their trip. He was so sure of it he spoke with Jack beforehand to make sure it would all be documented correctly, as he himself would never be able to write down such a thing as a symbolic funeral for his beloved. And he also knew what she would make them promise to do.

Because Mina, beyond just wishing to have the littlest bit of agency over her own death, is being strategic here. She knows Jonathan will “be with her to the very end”. She does not need to know of the promise he made to her in the solitude of his diary. Their devotion to each other is a given, one they do not take for granted, but that they expect nonetheless because they know each other and the strength of their love. Had she read the promise, she would undoubtedly be shocked by it, specifically by the utter heresy of it, devout as she is to her faith. But she would not be surprised, and this entry shows her anticipating what the Worst Case Scenario could potentially do to her husband, and trying to avoid it at all cost.

No, I don’t think she gone as far as assuming that Jonathan would deliberately choose vampirism for her. He has been as much of a devout christian as her for most of their lives, and tho she is not blind to the changes the last few months (and specially the last few days) have caused on him, she would not there suggest the Holiest Love conclusion is anywhere close to his mind. For after all, she has explicitly stated that she wants to be received by the grace of God, wants the same freedom granted by the boys to the soul of dear Lucy, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t deny her that.

Right?

And guys, as much as I love Jonathan’s vow and how he absolutely refuses to let her “walk into that unknown and terrible land alone”… it is a selfish vow. Romantic to the core, but selfish. Jonathan knows that’s not what Mina wants. He phrases it in a way that makes it seem like he is doing it purely out of love for her, so she’ll not be alone, but really, the selfless thing would be to do what she asked of him today. Her soul would be free, there would be no more Dracula to torment the world and kill innocents, and when Jonathan’s time came, he would join her in heaven.

But as I said before, the only thing that ever worries them about their relationship is whether or not they are hurt and when there is something keeping them apart. Jonathan goes to Transylvania and Dracula tries to keep him there: they both suffer from the distance. The first time Jonathan went to meet a client was the first time he and Mina were away from each other since the wedding, and she expresses anxiety about that. The men want to keep Mina away from vampire business to “protect her”: both her and Jonathan are unhappy with suddenly keeping secrets from each other. “A door is locked between them” because there is a part of Dracula inside Mina’s mind and she cannot be trusted to know all their planning, and Jonathan is crestfallen about it. Their deepest source of misery is always not being with each other, not being able to communicate properly, not just be together. And they both know that. Mina is just severely underestimating how far Jonathan would go so they’re not separated. As it is, she knows her death would bring him terrible grief, and by asking the help of their friends today and making him read the burial service, she’s trying to both a) Guarantee that should Jonathan’s hand falter, more steady ones would fulfil her wish; b) Unite them once more in the care they all have for her and show Jonathan that, should the worst happen, he won’t be alone. The other will be there. He shall not be so lonely if/when he becomes a widower; c) Perhaps by reading the burial service he can become more used to the possibility of her death and ease his heart to the matter.

However, Jonathan promises nothing to anyone. He asked for Jack to make an accurate description of what happened so that no detail would be left out, and yet we hear no word of confirmation from him.

And I’m sure she noticed it, too.

[mxtxfanatic]

Why Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli Matter

Even though their time as living characters in the narrative is short, Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli actually have a major influence on how Wei Wuxian chooses to go about his second life.

The comfort that Wei Wuxian couldn't express a desire for but that Jiang Yanli once tried to provide, anyways, without needing a request, he now seeks out in Lan Wangji:

No matter what [Jiang Yanli] said, Wei WuXian continued clinging to the tree, refusing to come down. Afraid that he’d hurt himself, Jiang YanLi put the lantern under the tree and extended her arms to catch him, too worried to leave. Thirty minutes later, Wei WuXian’s hands finally grew sore. He let go of the tree trunk and fell down. Jiang YanLi hurried to catch him, but Wei WuXian still landed with a slam.

—Chapt. 71: Departure, exr

The very instant he had wrapped his arms around the tree trunk, his eyes had warmed. Now, as he looked down, his vision was already blurry. Lan WangJi was standing underneath the tree, staring up at him. He was also clothed in white, but without a lantern. However, under the shower of the moonlight, his entire person was bright and clear, as if engulfed in a sheen of pure light. With his head slightly raised, he was watching Wei WuXian intently. With his gaze at the tree top, he took a few steps closer, as if wishing to extend his arms. Suddenly, Wei WuXian was overcome by a strange yet powerful urge. He wanted to fall down, just like that time many years ago. A voice in his heart said, ‘If he catches me, then I will’...... At the thought of the words ‘I will’, Wei WuXian let go. At the sight of him falling without a hint of a warning, Lan WangJi’s eyes widened. Instinctively, his body moved and the next moment Wei WuXian was in his arms, or, more correctly, in his embrace. ... He could not see Wei WuXian’s face. His face was out of Wei WuXian’s sight as well. But there was no need for Wei WuXian to see. With his eyes closed, he was engulfed in the soft, fresh scent of sandalwood that always lingered on Lan WangJi. Wei WuXian’s voice was hoarse, “Thanks.” He was never really afraid of falling. All these years, he’d fallen plenty. Of course, it still hurt everytime he fell. If there was someone who could catch him, then he couldn’t be happier.

—Chapt. 87: Core Part 9, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Except Lan Wangji is both willing and capable of protecting Wei Wuxian where Jiang Yanli due to a variety of reasons was not. Because of this, Lan Wangji is able to carry on the torch that Jiang Yanli left behind from Wei Wuxian's first life into his second, such as when he begins to cook for Wei Wuxian.

As for Wen Qing, the lesson that Wei Wuxian learned from his unintentional big sister is so important that he both lives by it and endeavors to pass it on to his shizhi :

After a few steps, [Jin Ling] looked backward and said, “Why are you just standing there? Are you just going to wait for my uncle to come and get you? Let me tell you, don’t think that just because you rescued me, I’ll have some kind of deep gratitude toward you. Especially don’t hang your hopes on me telling you some mushy nonsense.” Defeated, Wei Wuxian strolled up. “You’re young. In your lifetime, there are two pieces of ‘mushy nonsense’ you will always have to utter sooner or later.” “What are they?” Jin Ling asked. “’Thank you,’ and ‘I’m sorry.’” Jin Ling scoffed. “I just won’t say them. What can anyone do about it?” “There will eventually be a day when you’ll say them with tears in your eyes,” Wei Wuxian said. Jin Ling made a derisive noise. Suddenly, Wei Wuxian said, “I’m sorry.” The boy stared blankly. “What?” “On Dafan Mountain, what I said to you. I’m sorry.” It hadn’t been the first time someone had jeered at Jin Ling for lacking a mother to raise him, but no one had ever apologized to him with such seriousness. He didn’t know exactly what the feeling was, but being slapped in the face with such an apology made his entire body prickle with unease.

—Chapt. 24: Malice II, fanyiyi

This scene preludes Jin Ling's softening, where he actually does begin to be more mindful of his words, how he speaks to others, and especially how he interacts with "Mo Xuanyu." The fact that no one had ever seriously apologized to Jin Ling allowed the boy to justify being rude and mean-spirited to others, but the fact that Wei Wuxian does and about something that people had mocked him for often without regret causes him to reevaluate this "uncle" as well as himself. This apology, though it may seem small, is what sparks the actual beginning of Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling's shishu-shizhi relationship, and none of it would have been possible had Wen Qing not torn down the wall of "what need not be spoken."

Because of these two women, Wei Wuxian is able to form closer bonds and live a more fulfilling life during his second chance, and through this, the legacy of his sisters lives on.

[prettiedup]

some random girl flirting with playboy satoru and bunni thinking he’s cheating on her :(

you could feel your heart breaking into two as you watched the scene unfold. she was giggling and gripping on satoru’s forearms and the way she looked up at him, as if she was absolutely enamored with him. your eyes zeroed in on her almond shaped nails that were painted with black and red, she came dressed as a cop. her outfit hugged her, though, her button up shirt clung onto her torso and it seems she purposely left the top button unbuttoned so that her boobs could be ogled at. her shorts squeezed her thighs and hips, with every step she took her hips swayed. she exuded a level of confidence that you would possibly never accomplish.

 she was touching on your toru. your bottom lip wobbles even more when you realize he is allowing her to touch him. there’s a smile on his fake bloody lips, his faux canines peek out every time she makes him laughs. you had stepped away for a second to go use the bathroom and you came back to some girl in your seat and chatting it up with satoru. waves of jealousy and insecurity consume your body. 

you breathe heavily through your nose, trying to remind yourself to not cry. with hesitant steps, you walk to where you previously sat. satoru immediately stops talking to the girl to look at you, when he saw that teary eyed expression on your face he was quick to pull at your arm.

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

 you pull your arm out of his hold and snatch your purse that sat on his lap. you could feel the girl's eyes burning a hole into the side of your head, you refuse to look at her. she could have him if she wanted him so bad. you ignore satoru’s calls out to you. you’re pushing past people, some of the partiers throw you scowls while others vocally express their distaste. you ignore it all. 

“bunny, turn the fuck around.” satoru is desperately following behind you. he could’ve easily grabbed you by your arm and turned you around but he wanted you to do it on your own. 

you continue to ignore him, your heels clack with every angry stomp you took. you didn’t even know where you were going. choso had booked a house for this halloween party, it’s quite spacious and full of rooms. satoru had brought you with him a couple of days prior to the halloween party, so that you could help decorate. he figured you would’ve been into it and you were, when choso tasked you with decorating mainly the living room, you were practically beaming. you were so wrapped up with decorating you didn’t take time to understand where different halls led to.

with blurry eyes, you managed to walk yourself outside. the texture shifted from wood floors to brick. you had walked into the patio of the house. strings of fairy lights hung around the pillars, delivering you some light to walk through. 

satoru finally got enough of being ignored and grabbed you by your wrist. “do you not hear me?!” his eyes that were hidden with red eye contacts look down at you. 

you don’t say anything to him, only turning your head so that he couldn’t see you crying. 

“talk.” he demanded. 

you shake your head no, sparse tears drip down even faster. you continue to look away from him, choosing to look at the dark wood that wrapped around the backyard.

with an angry sigh he releases his grip on your wrist and instead grabs your jaw. he forces your head to tilt, you have no choice but to look into his concerned eyes. 

“talk.” he repeats himself.

“y-you don’t like me anymore.” as the word ‘anymore’ utters from your mouth you break down into heavier tears. you try to fight your head from his grasp, satoru doesn’t let you, though. he instead, wraps his arms around you dwarfing you with his size.

you sob into his arms. the smell of his cologne is intoxicating, he smells so good. maybe that’s what drew that girl to him. 

“bunny, i dunno what’s makin’ you talk like this. but don’t believe that shit. ‘kay?” he’s rocking you from side to side, in futile attempts to get you to calm down.

“i s-saw you and her.” you sniffle.

“babygirl, stop talking crazy. i still like you. ‘m gonna always like you. you’re lettin’ those mean thoughts get allll into your head and tell you lies.” he reassures you. 

“so w-why did you let her t-touch you?” you’re getting tears and snot all over his costume which makes you cringe but satoru is too warm to pull away. besides, with the way he’s holding you, you couldn’t get away even if you wanted to.

“i一i really don’t know, bun. if i knew it was gonna upset you this much i wouldn’t have.” 

“hm.” you pout. there are still tears leaking but you’re not sobbing anymore, at least.

“can we go back now?” he asks after letting you bask in a moment of silence. 

“don’t wanna go back.” you mumble into his shirt.

“you have t’speak up, bun. i can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.” he’s leaning his head on top of your head now. his body still sways the two of you, he hopes that it's calming you down.

“don’t wanna go back, toru.” you say louder and clearer.

“where d’you wanna go then?” he asks.

“wanna stay out here. jus’ us two.” you tell him. your arms are now wrapped around his waist and you’re swaying with him.

“‘kay, bun. whatever you want. no more cryin’ though. you look too pretty t'cry.” he’s leaning back a little, with just enough space to place a kiss on your forehead before pulling you back close to him.

[kairiscorner]

I saw your dialogue prompts and I can’t help but get serious Atsumu Miya vibes from #10. Like Atsumu seriously pinning for reader and reader just ignoring because Atsumu is a known smug playboy and they don’t trust him. And it’s just him not giving up and at one point he realizes he just needs to open up and be vulnerable instead of putting on this “cool hot guy” facade he has been doing to get attention.

My pronouns are she/her and I’m AFAB, so if it is a choice I’d personally prefer a fem reader, but I’m perfectly fine with a gender neutral reader, which ever you choose is perfect :3

❝maybe i wanna be more than just cool.❞ — atsumu miya x fem!reader

🗨️ dialogue prompt #10: "if you can't believe me, then i'll have to show you that i'm serious about you."

📸 photo creds: bakuxxplosion on pinterest !

✒️ word count: 929

🏐 genre: fluff.

🐈 taglist

"hey... you're really pretty." he whispers in your ear, his voice dripping with smugness and confidence. he backs away from you a little to see your reaction, smiling to himself, instead of smirking; but you couldn't tell the difference, you were ignoring him completely. if he wanted a reaction, he got one, just not the one he wanted–you were backing away now, not even shifting your gaze up to meet his big, brown eyes, even for a second.

you were aware about the kind of reputation atsumu had, and dare you say he was definitely someone you wouldn't wanna give the time of day, let alone the satisfaction in getting your attention. it might have seemed rude on your part, but you didn't wanna take your chances and see if he was... actually serious in what he was saying. he sighed at your lack of a response, save for you backing away.

"what do i have to do... to get you to realize that i want you?" he asks you in a soft mumble his nose against your hair, his lips against your ear. you might have blushed a little at the feeling of him being in such close proximity to you, but you disregarded that fluttering in your chest; could just be the shock that coursed through your body when he approached you so abruptly. you remained quiet, much to his amusement. atsumu was not one to take no for an answer, but your silence was fueling him to take things up a notch. after all, unless you say anything close to a 'no' to his face, he'll keep pushing his luck, get you to warm up to him, just a little bit.

he chuckled and threaded the ends of your hair with his thumb and index finger, twirling it around his fingers with a lazy grin on his face. "you're hot when you're ignoring me." he muttered all softly. "ignore me more and i might just do something drastic." "...like what?" you finally squeak out in a soft voice. atsumu lives to hear you speak to him, though you seldom do to him outside of school, and whenever it's necessary. he smiled a little wider when you asked that, running his hand through your hair. "maybe like... finally ask you out on a date? and i don't mean asking you out all lamely and desperately like i'm sure other guys have done to you before... i mean like... i'll tell you everything you need to know, and then you'll decide if i'm not good enough for you." he utters in such a cryptic, yet straightforward, manner.

it confused you when he mentioned that last part, just what did you need to know? you crinkled your eyebrows up at him, and that made his heart skip a beat. "cute." he mumbled as he gently pressed on your nose, booping your nose by surprise. he chuckled at you scoffing at his little gesture, making him lean forward, even closer to you, and smirk all smugly. "y'know... if you were any other girl, i think i'd've won you over by now, just saying." oh he was hurting his chances already. "but..." he trailed off as he placed his hand on the top of your head, tousling it up a little. "...you're not just any girl. and you're so much of a new experience to me... i think i'm actually falling for you. what a shock, right?"

"i don't want you to know me as a cocky asshole who gets everything he wants... maybe i wanna be more than just cool–" he says as he scoots closer to you, his leg against yours, and his arm behind your back, nearly wrapping around your waist. "–i want to be yours. if you can't believe me, then i'll have to show you that i'm serious about you–and i'll do... whatever it takes, to show you that i love you."

you thought your ears and eyes were deceiving you when you finally turned around to see atsumu, his cheeks flushed and his nose a little red–his ears all pink as he looks down at your hands, thoughts of intertwining his hand with yours filled his mind, but he didn't find himself worthy of doing so until you decided that... you loved him, too. atsumu doesn't want you to like him back out of reluctance or pity, he swears he'll do everything he can to win you over.

you're the only warmth that melts his coolness away, and he wants to be worthy of being in your presence, he wants to every time you see him to be a moment ingrained in your memory as a good day, as a day you felt happiest–a day when you feel loved by this smug, snarky seeming–yet secretly lovesick–boy that was head over heels in love with you.

"...i really, really love you... and i wanna make you love me. so... give me a hard time if you want, i'm not giving up, because i love you, so, so much." he mumbles, his lips curving into a real, genuine smile that harbored no false impressions or masked up feelings or intentions; atsumu miya was smitten with you–and he'd do everything he can to prove it, even let his pride down and let you see the true him, the him that was so deeply taken in by all of you that he's acting out his wildest dreams right now with you: telling you how much he loves you while he's riding on the high of euphoria of loving you.

[perfectsunlight]

[04] NEW BEST FRIEND

warnings: none

AUGUST 2028

jane ivory kim rarely got upset. but when she did, it was always for a good reason.

“i’m not going.” the teenager shook her head in disbelief. jieun sighed sympathetically, knowing she had no control in the current matter, but still wanting nothing more than for her granddaughter to be happy.

“jane,” jieun said softly as she gently reached and put a hand on the other girl’s knee. “it’s what your mother wants.”

cat-like eyes flashed with frustration and almost utter annoyance. “but she doesn’t even know what i want. she barely knows anything about my life. all my friends are going to apgujeong high school, and she wants to ship me off to some snobby all-girls school?”

jieun knew that the only thing to cause the docile girl to become irate was her mother.

her heart ached at the truth in her granddaughter’s words. she didn’t entirely support jennie’s decision, but she knew that she had no say in it otherwise. “i know, sweetheart. but your mother thinks this school will offer you the best opportunities.”

ivory clenched her fists, her knuckles turning the same shade of her name. “opportunities for what? to be alone? to be around girls who don’t care about anything but money? if that woman likes it so much, she should go herself.”

the older woman’s shoulders deflated. recently, the teenager had been referring to her mother as anything but her mother. as inherently rude as it was, jieun couldn’t argue against jane’s choice.

“it’s an international school, maybe it'll be good for you to meet some new people.” jieun suggested, trying to find a positive note. ivory’s shoulders slumped forward, knowing she couldn’t argue with her grandmother for something that wasn’t in her control.

“are the uniforms pretty at least?” 

—

jieun descended from the stairs to see her granddaughter tightening her necktie. the uniforms were very elegant, and the older woman couldn’t help but smile. “you look very intelligent.” ivory shifted her gaze from the living room mirror to her grandmother. she shot the woman a playful eye roll before adjusting her blazer. it was navy blue, tailored to fit perfectly and adorned with the school's emblem on the left breast pocket. the white blouse beneath was buttoned up neatly, the collar peeking out just above the blazer’s lapel. her pleated skirt, also navy blue, fell just above her knees, paired with white socks and polished black shoes.

she tugged at the hem of her skirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. “at least it’s comfortable,” she remarked, trying to find a silver lining.

jieun smiled, stepping closer to adjust a stray strand of hair behind ivory’s ear. “you look beautiful, sweetheart. you’ll do great.”

the teenager gave a small nod, glancing back at her reflection. the uniform was indeed elegant and gave her a polished appearance, but it also felt like a costume she had to wear to fit into a role she didn’t choose.

with a deep breath, she picked up her school bag, its weight a reminder of the day ahead. “i guess i better get going,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

jieun’s eyes softened with understanding. “are you sure you don’t want your mother to give you a ride?” jane quickly shook her head with a smile. the only reason the older woman asked was because she and jennie were going to paris for fashion week. 

and although a ride to school would be nice, jane felt that keeping her pride was the better option.

“enjoy your vacation, grandma.”

—

the walk to school was only 20 minutes, but each step felt like an eternity. however, upon approaching the school’s front gates, it was evident that the world she was stepping into was one she’d never truly been in.

sure, her family had money. but jane liked normal things. she liked her normal friends and her normal life without the pressure of her mother’s status. as she walked through the pristine, manicured grounds of her new school, she felt a pang of longing for the simplicity she had left behind.

inside the main hall, echoes of footsteps and snippets of conversation bounced off the walls. some spoke of their parent’s cars, others mentioned their latest vacation, and some were simply taking pictures with their friends. 

the brunette almost bumped into a few girls who were clearly rushing to get to their classes. she narrowly avoided collision, but still knew that she’d have to keep her eyes up because it still was the first day.

her classes went by slowly, and even though jane didn’t speak more than four words in the past four hours, she was already sick of it here. lunch time was her chance to finally have a moment to herself. she scanned the dining hall, glancing at the obvious cliques at each table.

naturally, she decided to check the bathroom to see if it was empty. 

unfortunately, she was met with a group of girls taking photos and the smell of cigarettes. one of the taller girls looked over at jane with a confused look. “do you need something?” she asked while her friends whispered to each other. 

“who the hell is that?”

ivory opened her mouth to say something in return, however she knew better than to entertain such antics. she quickly bowed and mumbled an apology before quickly leaving.

she was making her way to check outside when suddenly, a girl hurrying in the opposite direction collided with her, causing jane to stumble backward. the girl's water bottle slipped from her hand and splashed across jane's chest.

“sorry!” the girl exclaimed while still running in the opposite direction. the younger girl sighed, trying to maintain her composure despite the cold water seeping through her uniform. “seriously,” she muttered, though her tone betrayed a hint of frustration. she wiped at the damp spots on her blazer with her sleeve, trying to salvage what she could.

she could hear the small snickers of her peers around her, but the idol’s daughter decided to simply ignore it. jane wandered outside, rubbing the back of her neck and taking a seat on the steps to the entrance.

the sun warmed her face, providing a brief respite from the cool dampness of her uniform. she closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

footsteps approached, and jane opened her eyes to see a taller girl with a kind smile standing in front of her. she had a gentle demeanor, her eyes curious yet empathetic.

“rough day?” the girl asked, sitting down beside jane on the steps without waiting for an invitation.

jane managed a small smile, appreciating the small conversation. “you could say that,” she replied, glancing down at her slightly damp blazer.

the taller girl’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “new here?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. jane simply nodded, feeling a sense of relief at this new friendly demeanor. “yeah, just started today,” she admitted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

the ravenette nodded understandingly. “well, welcome to the academy,” she said warmly. “there’s good things here, i promise.”

jane chuckled softly, appreciating this attempt to lighten the mood. “good to know,” she replied. the stranger turned to rummage through her bag before handing jane some tissues. “here, this might help.”

jane accepted the tissues with a grateful smile, touched by the thoughtful gesture. she dabbed at the remaining damp spots on her blazer, feeling a bit more composed now. the sun overhead cast a warm glow, and the quiet chatter of students around them created a soothing backdrop.

“thank you,” jane said sincerely, meeting her eyes. “you really didn't have to do that.”

the other girl waved off her gratitude with a smile. “it's no problem at all. we've all been there, right?”

ivory nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the girl despite just meeting her. “yeah, i guess so,” she admitted, realizing she felt more at ease talking to her than she had with most people at the academy so far.

“so, where are you from?” the other girl asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

jane hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to share. she had always been cautious about revealing too much, especially about her background.

“seoul,” jane replied finally, deciding to keep it vague. “what about you?”

the stranger smiled, seemingly content with the answer. “same. what program are you in?”

“music.” ivory smiled as she watched the other girl’s face light up. “really? me too! we’ll definitely have classes together then.”

“oh i almost forgot,” the stranger continued before she rummaged through her bag again. she pulled out a roll of kimbap. “here, you must be hungry. don’t worry, i made extra.” 

jane’s smile widened at the sight of the food. she took it gratefully, mentally reminding herself to pack her own snacks next time. “thank you. i’ll bring you something tomorrow.”

the taller girl grinned warmly as jane accepted the roll of kimbap, her eyes crinkling with genuine friendliness. “you're welcome! i hope you like it,” she said cheerfully, clearly pleased to have made a small gesture of kindness.

jane nodded appreciatively, unwrapping the food and taking a bite. the flavors of the seasoned rice, vegetables, and savory filling were comforting and satisfying. “mmm, this is really good,” she complimented, impressed by her new friend’s culinary skills.

the other girl beamed at the praise. “i'm glad you think so! i'll definitely look forward to what you bring tomorrow,” she replied, her tone light and friendly.

after finishing lunch, jane glanced at the stranger with a grateful smile. “thanks again for the food and for being so nice to me. it means a lot,” she admitted softly, touched by this stranger’s kindness.

the ravenette waved off her gratitude with a gentle laugh. “of course! it's nice to have someone new to talk to,” she said warmly. “oh, i should’ve asked for your name.”

jane chuckled and stuck her hand out for the other girl to take. she had a feeling this would be the start of a genuine friendship.

“i’m jane, nice to meet you.” the girl  took her hand and shook it firmly, eyes still beaming with excitement. she also felt like she was about to make a new best friend.

“eunchae. hong eunchae.”

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