#if you can’t tell this is me being angry

[novascharms]

calming angry rafe down..... i NEEEEEED himmmm asdfghjkl

“wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, leaning toward him, your hopeful gaze searching his face.

he shakes his head faintly, eyes closing as he rests his head back against the seat. “nothing to talk about. just topper being topper—trying to get me to break his fucking kneecaps.” his tone is flat, but the undercurrent of frustration is unmistakable.

you blink at his casual mention of violence, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “he doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

at your words, rafe’s irritation flares visibly, his fingers flexing as if resisting the urge to punch something. “he just needs to piss off. fuck,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “and i know—i know—he can’t stand it. he hates that i get close to someone he can’t touch, someone who’s fucking mine. he’s a pissy little bitch, and the next time i see him—”

“rafe,” you interrupt softly, sensing the dangerous direction his thoughts are heading. “calm down…” you murmur, your voice soothing as you lean in to press a featherlight kiss to his cheek.

his breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling with controlled restraint. “you’re getting way too worked up,” you whisper, cradling his face with one hand, your thumb grazing along the sharp line of his cheekbone.

his lips remain tight, his gaze hard, but he doesn’t pull away. you take the opportunity to scatter soft kisses across his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. your touch is gentle, alternating between quick pecks and lingering brushes. at first, he’s unresponsive, but slowly he starts kissing back, his lips yielding to yours in unspoken surrender.

you trail your kisses lower, down along the line of his jaw to his neck. you feel the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, the tightness in his posture softening under the warmth of your lips.

your hand glides down his chest, your fingertips barely grazing the ridges of his abs, tracing slow, soothing patterns. his breaths come slower now, steadier, the anger slowly ebbing away with each kiss you leave on his skin.

rafe remains still, his arms resting at his sides, his body still tense under your gentle touch and then your hands find the edge of his sweatpants.

your hand is halfway in when he tenses, "you don't have to do this—" he starts but you're cutting him off. "i want to." you whisper softly and he knows you want to, you've been trying and asking for days. he was the one to insist you go slower which was fair since you were the one who wanted to go slow in the very beginning. that all changed the moment you two made out for the first time. you'd quickly thrown 'slow' in the trash.

you kiss your way back to his lips, "will you tell me how?" you'd seen videos and could also imagine what to do but actually doing it was a lot different. rafe hums against your lips, "take it out first," he mutters with his lips inching yours.

you glance down and slowly take his semi-hard cock out of his pants. you stare at it for a couple of seconds. it's heavier than you'd imagined, fat and veiny with this glossy pink tip that makes your mouth water just a little. without a word from rafe, you're curiously running your hand along it.

you don't expect rafe to tense at your touch and you're immediately looking up at him in surprise when he does. "did that hurt? did i just hurt you?" you ask and his smile is genuine, "quite the opposite." he rasps and then his hand is covering yours gently. he guides your hands up and down along his fat cock and you're a little mesmerised watching it slowly grow in size.

rafe's heavy breathing tells you it's going good so far but you want to get it in your mouth. the nerd in you is trying to calculate how it would even be possible, how you could get such a big dick past your lips without choking on it.

you're lowering your head to get him into your mouth when he stops you gently, fingers on your chin. "no teeth." he explains and you're nodding before you're desperately trying to get down there again. he stops you, again. "just..take it easy, start with the tip and slowly take more." he continues, eyes boring into yours. you could see the lust in them, just pooling in his eyes as he watched you practically drool to get his cock in your mouth.

the moment he let go of you, your tongue was darting out just enough to slowly lick along his fat tip. rafe hissed and gripped the car handle, "fuck," he whispered lowly. you pulled back and looked at it. you weren't sure why you expected it to do something and when it didn't, you just gave it another experimental lick before slowly wrapping your lips around the tender head, suckling gently.

"that's it, baby..take it easy.." rafe is muttering as you suckle on his warm tip. you hesitate for only a second before you're taking more of him in your mouth and you don't expect the tears to come so quickly. they don't really bother you. you realize nothing really bothers you while he's in your mouth. your mind has gone completely empty, void of any noise or thought, he's all you can feel, all you can sense is him filling you up.

it doesn't take long before you're bopping your head up and down and drooling all over his cock. rafe is groaning and grunting every couple of seconds and his hands are in your hair but you can feel him resisting, can feel the moment he wants to push your head down but every time, he stops himself and just lets you go at your own pace.

you whimper when you attempt for the third time to get his entire lenght down your throat and almost want to cry in frustration that he just won't fit. rafe is holding your head back, trying to say something but continously getting cut off by his own moans. "p-perfect, baby, fuck, that's perfect.." he tilts his head back and holds onto you so you stop moving for five seconds. you were eager, so goddamn determined. "stop forcing..you'll hurt yourself." he grunts before he's letting you go and your mouth is right back on his cock, seeking that fuzzy feeling, that instant quietening of the mind.

you know he won't fit unless rafe bucks his hips up and fucks your mouth and you know he won't do that so you settle for using your hands for the part of him you can't reach. you stroke him up and down and your drool helps keep it all smooth and wet. "jesus..fuck, fuck.." rafe moans, voice low, and then you're speeding up, just a little. you just want more, want it to take you over, want to make rafe feel good.

something seems to snap in him because his hands fly to your hair and he's groaning, shoving your head down onto his fat cock. he forces you to take more and more of him and the noises you make are filthy and down-right obscene. you're whining, high, and desperate around his veiny cock as you try to keep up with how he's pushing your head down over and over.

you're choking around him, tears streaming down your cheeks and he's doing all the work now, gripping your hair and shoving your head down, pushing your mouth onto his cock. "g-god..that's it..!" his hips stutter, and then he's hurriedly pulling your mouth off of him as his cum squirts out and covers his cock and a bit of his shirt.

you stare at his tip, a little dazed while you catch your breath. you watch the creamy white lines cover it and without giving it much thought, you're licking the cum off his length and tip. rafe hisses at the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip, "if i knew you wanted it, i would've come in your mouth." he's mumbling, and only then do you look at him, "why didn't you?" you ask, mind still a little fuzzy.

"because a lot of people don't like it." he's got this lazy smile on his face as he runs his fingers through your hair. you blink at him and try to think of a reason someone wouldn't want it. all that hard work for nothing?

"did you like it?" you ask him as he sadly puts himself back in his sweats. he's chuckling, "did i like it? that has to be a rhetorical question." he pats his leg gently and you're on his lap in a matter of seconds. "i liked it." you mutter as he presses a couple of kisses to your lips. he pauses and cups your cheeks gently, "are you sure you liked it?" he's whispering softly, "you seem..out of it."

you were out of it; eyes still dilated, mind still fuzzy, brain still empty. you'd never ever felt like this. "i'm really sure i liked it." you nod and rest your head on his shoulder. "i wanna do it again." you confess which has him chuckling again. "you won't hear a complaint from me.

snippet from 'teach me' series

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh oh what about soft!dom remus and reader who’s upset over a conversation with her family and doesn’t know how to let it go and he helps distract/regulate her???

Not sure if this is soft!dom, but he definitely helps reader relax and work through it mentally

“You’re stewing dovey.” Remus murmurs as he reaches for you on the settee.

He’s got a plate in one hand, bread pudding you’d been asking for all weekend and some fruit on the side.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, they’re so mean and it’s fine when they do it. But when I stick up for myself suddenly I’m a raging bitch.”

Remus shakes his head, kissing your temple as you start to get angry all over again. “You’re not a bitch. They’re just close minded.”

He placed the plate in your lap and you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I just get so pissed because why it’s okay for them but I’m a pariah when I do it? I’m not immune to bad moods, I just don’t take it out on everyone.”

Remus knows from Sirius that family relationships are tough. Sirius’ situation was different but he can see similarities between yours and his.

Your family, mainly your siblings, expect you to be this perfect golden child and you can never make a mistake and it weighs on you.

It’s why Remus and you only see your mum when you visit and your sister sometimes. Your brothers are another story.

“And you’re better for that dovey. You’re not a pariah, you’re allowed all of your feelings even if they try to make you feel bad. You won’t get censorship here.” Remus nudges your knee with his. “C’mon, eat before it goes cold.”

You take a bite and your shoulders drop a little- Remus is a wizard at bread pudding. It’s somehow never sopping wet on the bottom. It’s a comfort food of yours and after today it was necessary.

Remus chooses his words carefully while you eat.

“I know you care what they think of you, but I think sometimes they need the reality check you just gave them. They can’t walk all over you and expect it not to get tiring.”

You nod, “I just, I don’t want to be a bad person.”

Remus smiles at that. “You could never be a bad person dove.”

You roll your eyes as you offer him the last bite. “You’re biased, and you’re supposed to think highly of me.”

Remus speaks around the bite, “I am biased, but we both know I’m not going to let you be a bad person if I thought that’s what you were becoming.”

It’s true. Remus has stopped many spirals and many mean rants the moment they got deprecating.

“So you’d tell me?”

Remus kisses your temple, “If I ever got a feeling that you were being a bad person I’d tell you.” You seem content at that. Remus holds you closer to his chest. “For the record, I thought you could’ve stood to be a tiny bit more stern on the phone, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

You smile as you tip your head back to his chest to look up at him. “Ah, I had help learning how to do that.”

Remus rubs your chest at the admission. “Whoever they are, they seem very smart.” There’s a cheeky smile on his face, but mostly he really is proud of you for standing up for yourself.

“You would think so.”

[00valentina-writes00]

your sevika with a pouty reader was sooo good could you do one with ambessa?

♡♥︎Ambessa with a Pouty Woman♥︎♡

♥︎ Ambessa, despite her tough exterior, finds herself oddly intrigued by your pouty moments. At first, she might not understand why you’re pouting, but she watches you closely and quickly catches on to the fact that it’s your way of communicating when you’re upset or seeking attention.

♥︎ When you start pouting, Ambessa’s usually not the type to rush in and coddle you, but she notices the change in your demeanor. Her sharp eyes narrow slightly, assessing whether it’s something she needs to address or if it’s just a fleeting mood. Her response is cool, but she’s definitely aware of it.

♥︎ If you’re pouting over something trivial, Ambessa will raise an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “Really?” she’ll ask, her voice smooth yet firm. “This is how you’re going to act over something so small?” But her tone is more teasing than scolding, letting you know she’s not really upset—she’s just curious about your antics.

♥︎ If it’s something more serious, Ambessa is quick to step in. Her gaze softens slightly when she sees you truly bothered, and she’ll approach you with that quiet, commanding presence of hers. “Come now,” she’ll say, her voice a little gentler than usual. “Tell me what’s really going on.” She won’t let you hide behind a pout; she knows how to cut through the surface-level irritation to reach the heart of the matter.

♥︎ Ambessa doesn’t indulge poutiness for long. If you stay sulking, she’ll pull you aside, take your chin gently but firmly in her hand, and tilt your face up to meet hers. “Enough,” she’ll say, her voice a little softer than her usual stern tone. “If you have something to say, speak it. I won’t tolerate silence when you’re in my presence.” But you can tell she’s not angry—just that she expects more from you than petty moods.

♥︎ When you’re pouting, she’s calm and patient, never raising her voice or losing control. She’ll watch you for a while, waiting for you to snap out of it, and when you do, she’ll offer you a slight smirk. “I don’t deal with childish behavior,” she’ll tease, but her smile is warm enough to let you know that she’s not truly frustrated with you. She simply finds your behavior amusing at times.

♥︎ If you persist with your pout, Ambessa will take the initiative to fix the situation. She’s not one to wait for you to come to her—she’ll walk over, place her hands on your shoulders, and pull you into her arms. “Enough of this, darling,” she’ll say, her tone more reassuring than anything else. “Let’s stop this little game. You know I can’t stand it when you’re upset for no reason.”

♥︎ If you cross a line with your pouty behavior and it starts to irritate her, Ambessa will take a more direct approach. She’ll get closer, her imposing presence clear as she gently but firmly pulls you toward her. “If you want attention, you’ll have to ask for it,” she’ll say in a tone that brooks no argument. She doesn’t appreciate being manipulated, and she’s quick to remind you of that.

♥︎ But when you pout in a way that’s genuine, Ambessa softens—just a bit. She’ll take your hand, guiding you to sit next to her with a look that says, I understand. “What is it, darling?” she’ll ask quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. She’s the kind of person who understands the complexity of emotions, and she won’t dismiss yours, no matter how trivial they may seem.

♥︎ Ambessa doesn’t really “do” excessive displays of affection, but when you’re pouty and need comfort, she’s surprisingly attentive in her own way. She’ll run her fingers through your hair or trace patterns on your back, offering reassurance without smothering you. Her touch is firm but calming, the kind of presence that puts you at ease, even if she doesn’t vocalize it much.

♥︎ If you try to hide behind a pout to avoid confronting something difficult, Ambessa won’t let it slide. She’ll call you out on it, her gaze stern and unwavering. “I’m not here for games,” she’ll say with a slight edge. “If there’s something you need to say, say it now. I’m not going to let you avoid the conversation.”

♥︎ Ambessa might not be the type to spoil you, but she does have a certain indulgence for your moods, especially when she sees that they come from a place of vulnerability. If you pout because you’re feeling insecure or unsure, she’ll take extra care to remind you of your worth, speaking with quiet authority. “You know I think the world of you, don’t you?” she’ll ask, her voice laced with an intensity that is both reassuring and commanding.

♥︎ When she notices you’re starting to settle into that sulky mood, Ambessa won’t be shy about getting what she wants. She might challenge you a little, saying something like, “If you’re going to act like this, I’ll just have to make you smile, won’t I?” The way she smirks when she says it lets you know that she won’t back down until you’ve snapped out of it—and that includes offering playful teasing until the mood breaks.

♥︎ Ambessa isn’t one to cater to whims, but if she sees that you’re genuinely upset, she’ll ease into a more gentle approach. She’ll pull you closer, let you rest your head against her shoulder, and allow a brief moment of softness. “I’m not going anywhere,” she’ll remind you quietly. “If you need me, I’ll be here.”

♥︎ Despite her commanding presence, Ambessa has a surprisingly nurturing side when you’re truly upset. If your pout stems from something deeper than just a petty mood, she’ll pull you in close, pressing a kiss to your forehead and saying something reassuring: “I’m not going to let anything harm you. Not on my watch.”

♥︎ She’s the kind of partner who doesn’t expect you to be perfect, but she does expect you to be honest. So when you pout, it’s just a matter of whether you’re being honest about why you’re upset or just throwing a tantrum for attention. If you’re being sincere, she’ll take it seriously, but if it’s just a game, she’ll let you know that she’s not in the mood to play.

♥︎ If you can pull her into a playful mood with your poutiness, Ambessa might give you a rare moment of indulgence. She’ll lean in close, pressing a kiss to your lips or offering you a warm smile. “You know I don’t give in to this often,” she’ll say, “but you’ve earned it.”

[i-dared-myself]

The Bet

Seungmin x reader x Bang Chan

In which Seungmin has something to prove and no respect

18+ This is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written (Yet, heheh. I have something else sitting in my drafts) so BE WARNED. This contains some mxm so if you’re not comfortable you’re more than welcome to move on

“Weird,” you mutter to yourself as you walk through your front door. Usually you are the last one home, but it seems like the apartment is empty tonight.

“Hello?” you call as you kick your shoes off. “Seungmin? Chan?”

When no response comes, you text them quickly. You’re slightly worried, but it’s not completely unheard of for their jobs to keep them late.

You grab a set of pans and put them on the stove, bringing out ingredients for dinner too. It isn’t your night to cook, but being helpful never hurts.

Your phone dings from where you left it on the counter. You check it to see that Seungmin messaged saying he and Chan are almost home.

You open a bottle of wine, just needing something to relax with. As you pour a glass the door slams open.

“Seungmin?” Your eyebrows knit together in concern as your boyfriend storms right up to you. His fingers curl through your hair and he bends you over the kitchen counter, cheek squishing against the cold marble. “What are you-“

“Shh,” he coos gently. Seungmin presses up against you, body heavy against yours. “I’ll fuck you so good that you can’t walk straight for days after. How does that sound?”

You grope at the counter in shock, hands clenching and unclenching. “Seungmin? What are you- Where’s Chan?”

“Right here, baby,” Chan says as he shuts the door. It clicks behind him before he wanders closer. “Need something? My cock, maybe?”

“What are you both doing?” you demand. “Seungmin! Chan! Explain yourselves!”

“Seungmin and I made a little bet,” Chan tells you as he rolls up his sleeves, exposing the skin of his forearms. “He thinks he can be a better dom than me.”

“And how do I come into this?” You squirm back against Seungmin. “I don’t see how it’s my problem.”

“We’re gonna test it on you.” Seungmin rolls his hips into you experimentally. “So who do you want to fuck you first? Me, or whiny Chan? He’s so tired today I don’t think he’ll even be able to get it up…”

“Watch it!” Chan snaps. “I’ll bend you over my lap, bet or no bet.”

Seungmin snorts and drags you over to the couch. “Who will it be, baby? Me, or old man Bang?”

Chan huffs. “Second strike, Seungmin. There’s still respect that needs to be upheld.”

“You first.” You lean up to kiss Seungmin, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He eagerly returns the affection, pressing against you. 

You scoot further down the couch so there’s more room for him. Seungmin takes his place between your legs, throwing a pillow away.

“By the time I’m done with you, it’ll be past the old man’s bedtime.” Seungmin’s eyes glint mischievously as he slips a hand down your pants. His index finger finds your clit and circles it once, then twice before he adds, “I’ll fuck you again for him.”

Chan suddenly grips Seungmin’s hair and rips him away from you. The other man lets out a short cry as he’s tossed to the other side of the couch.

“Chan!” you protest as you reach for Seungmin. “He was about to fuck me!”

“Not anymore.” Chan grins at you, all dimples and joy before he turns to Seungmin, and it fades away. Now he’s angry and sexy, and you want him so bad.

You huff and scoot up further against the arm of the couch. “Well I was promised sex, and I don’t care who does it, as long as someone gives it to me.”

Chan laughs as he fists Seungmin’s hair, dragging him off the couch. He forces his head down to the floor until Seungmin’s cheek is smushed.

“Really?” Chan looks down at him with an eyebrow raised. His eyes glint darkly. “That’s the best you can arch your back?”

Seungmin struggles to lift his head, eventually just spitting out, “Fuck you.”

“Ah, so he’s in one of those moods.” Chan glances over his shoulder at you. “I bet he didn’t even want to dom you. He just wanted to fight me a little bit.”

You nod in agreement, sprawling out on the furniture. “Probably. He always likes his punishments. More so than rewards.”

Chan smiles at you softly, his hand still clasped tightly around Seungmin’s wrists. “Can you go bring me the cuffs, baby? Then I’ll give you what you want.”

You nod and rush off to the drawer that they’re kept in. You pass them to Chan and watch as Seungmin’s hands are restrained behind his back.

“There you go.” Chan pats Seungmin’s cheek condescendingly. “Now you can’t touch yourself either.”

Seungmin pushes himself up to a sitting position, glowering at Chan. His gaze flicks to you before back to him. “Come on! All I did was tease a little!”

Chan hooks his arms under Seungmin’s armpits and drags him to the corner, chuckling when Seungmin tries to bite him. “It’s the lack of respect, Seungmin. If I’m going to let you fuck her-“

“She’s my girlfriend too!” Seungmin protests.

“There have to be rules,” Chan finishes. “Such as respecting me, and no talking back. Now, I’m going to fuck her, and then if you’re lucky and I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you have her.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes defiantly. “You just wanted to go first before it was your bedtime, didn’t you? You could’ve just said, old man.”

Chan smiles and laces his hand together. “Is that right? You really think so?”

Seungmin hums in confirmation. “Yeah. I know that you can’t fuck her good enough.”

Chan’s expression is still light-hearted, which is what scares you the most. He has a lot of patience, but when it’s worn out he snaps hard.

“I’ve changed my mind on what’s happening tonight,” Chan declares. He looks back at you pleasantly. “Undress.”

You cross your arms. “Do I have a say in this?”

Chan turns his gaze to you. “Do you not want us?”

You shift. “Okay fine, I do.”

“Then undress while I take care of him.” Chan points his chin to Seungmin. “We can’t just leave him there to watch. Might as well give him something to struggle with.”

Seungmin’s eyes widen a bit and you can see his throat flex as he swallows. You’re not worried. He knows his signals for if it’s too much and needs to stop.

You hear a bottle cap being uncapped, but don’t pay it much mind. You strip out of your pants and shirt, quickly discarding of your undergarments.

When you turn around, Seungmin is propped up naked over the arm of the couch, Chan behind him. Seungmin’s mouth is parted and you can see his hands trying to grab at something.

You peek around his body to see Chan’s fingers working him open. You reach down to run your fingers through Seungmin’s hair soothingly.

“Is it good?” you ask him. You bend down to kiss his open mouth, smiling when he kisses you back. “Feel full, baby?”

Seungmin tries to respond, but Chan adds another digit and he cuts himself off with a whine. You laugh lightly and peer down at what Chan’s doing.

“Can you do me a favour, baby?” Chan looks up at you through his lashes. “Can you shut him up, please? This isn’t supposed to make him feel good, just to get him ready.”

“Sure.” You plunge two of your fingers into Seungmin’s mouth until they make him gag. 

Chan chuckles. “That just made him clench on me.” He kisses Seungmin’s shoulder. “Did you like that?”

Seungmin nods as best as he can. Drool is pooling in the corners of his mouth around your fingers.

You give an experimental thrust of your fingers between his lips. Seungmin gurgles but lets a moan out. You debate adding a third finger but decide against it, not wanting to push him too hard today.

Chan pulls his hand away and presses a plug into Seungmin. “There you go, baby.”

You remove your fingers and wipe the spit off of them onto Seungmin’s face. “Is it my turn yet?”

“Yes.” Chan flashes you an expression of fond exasperation. He wrenches Seungmin off the armrest and back to the floor. “Give me a second.”

You sigh impatiently and roll your eyes. “I swear it’s been like two hours since I was promised sex. If I don’t get someone’s dick soon I’m leaving.”

“It’s not too late to come over here.” Seungmin’s cheeks are flushed pink along with the tips of his ears. His cock is hard and you know Chan’s going to make him wait a while for any form of release.

“Come here,” Chan calls from the couch. “I’ll let you ride me.”

You hurry over to him, ignoring Seungmin’s indignant cry. You don’t want to end up in the same position as him.

Maybe you do a little, but you also just want something now.

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” you complain once you’re standing in front of Chan.

He tilts your chin up so he can kiss you. “Patience.”

As Chan shuffles out of his clothes, you watch Seungmin. He’s squirming, trying to get friction on his dick. He’s facing you, and you wish you could see the plug spreading him open.

“Baby.” Chan brings your knuckles to his lips and places a soft kiss to them. “Ignore him. If he wanted attention he should’ve respected me.”

You force your gaze away and back to Chan. He’s nude now, and you eagerly straddle his lap.

“Wait,” Chan laughs, “you need prep first.”

“No I don’t,” you protest, “I’m wet. I’m dripping. Please!”

His hands go to your hips and pull you down so you’re straddling his thighs. “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What? And I’m fine to hurt?” Seungmin scoffs. “I still have bruises on my ass from when I called you a bitch!”

“I give you plenty of warnings,” Chan gently reminds him. “And you’re not supposed to be talking right now.”

“Please.” You bring Chan’s attention back to you. “Just hurry up already!”

Chan sighs. “Fine. But I’ll stop if you need me to.”

Then he’s guiding his cock to your cunt and very slowly entering you. You throw your head back at the stretch and the feeling of fullness. 

He stops, keeping you in place like that. You glare down at him, unamused.

“Why?” you demand. “I’ve been kept waiting forever!”

“Just relax.” Chan strokes your hair. “We didn’t prep you and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You grumble, but place your head in the crook of his neck. His chest rumbles with a barely contained laugh when your eyes flutter as he shifts.

“Okay,” you eventually murmur, “I’m ready.”

“Let me know if we need to stop.” Chan adjusts how he’s sitting so you’re have more room to move. A groan rips itself from his throat at your first bounce.

You can feel Seungmin’s eyes on you as you ride Chan. Chan’s hand tighten on your waist, but he lets you control the movements.

One of his hands drops to toy with your clit. The lazy circles it draws makes you squeeze around him, causing him to shudder.

“You close yet?” Chan asks. “Close to cumming around my cock?”

You bite your lip. “Maybe. Just need-“

He rolls his hips upwards to meet you when you sink down on him. Your orgasm washes over you and you let out muffled sounds against Chan’s torso, burying your face against him.

“That’s it,” Chan croons. “So good, not letting Seungmin see your pretty face as you cum.”

You flutter around him at his words, blinking your eyes open to see his face. His eyebrows are pulled together as he continues to thrust into you.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Chan promises lowly. His eyes are cloudy with lust, focused on your expressions. “Come on, do it again. I know you can.”

His fingers are still working at your clit, sending sparks to reignite the fire at your core. You mouth at his collarbone, preventing any of your moans to reach Seungmin’s ears. 

Then you’re somehow falling over the edge again, so close to your first. Chan pulls out and leaves you to clench around nothing, making you mourn the fullness that just had.

“Seungmin,” Chan calls softly, “why don’t you come over here?”

You notice Chan hadn’t filled you, still hard. You’re confused for a moment before Chan’s manhandling you and your mind goes blank.

You’re dragged to the floor as Seungmin shuffles closer on his knees. Seungmin looks to Chan expectantly, finally behaving.

Chan reaches out to cup Seungmin’s cheek. “You finally get to fuck her now. If you make her cum, you’ll get your release. But if you cum first…” Chan glances to you. “What do you think, baby?”

You swallow thickly as your thighs are forced apart by Chan’s hands. “No sex for a month?”

Chan nods before facing Seungmin again. “You hear that?”

“Yes. I understand.” Seungmin blinks. “I’ve got this.”

“Good.” Chan, seemingly satisfied, lifts Seungmin and lays him atop you. Seungmin’s hands are still restrained behind his back and the plug is still in him. “Go ahead.”

“I- I can’t-“ Seungmin’s hips shift as he tries to find your entrance. He lifts his head to look down at your eyes, cheeks flushed.

“You can’t what?” Chan looms over the two of you. 

“I-“ Seungmin squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t find her pussy.”

Chan coos. “Oh, is that right? Need my help?”

Seungmin nods, his naked body pressing against yours harder as he tries again to press into you.

“Use your words.” Chan rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

“Please?” Seungmin begs. “I just- I need- Please!”

“Shh.” Chan’s hands go to Seungmin’s hips and align him with your cunt. “It’s okay.”

Seungmin whines as he enters you. His eyes rolls back as he finally gets stimulation. 

“Are you going to fuck her or not?” Chan settles on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “This is what you wanted, right? Don’t tell me you can’t make her feel good.”

Seungmin’s hips make a desperate thrust into you, but it’s not as smooth as Chan’s. He’s making whiny little sounds as he stutters through the movements.

Your hands go up to his hair, tugging hard. “Seungmin! Do it properly!”

“I’m trying,” he whines, hiding his face against your throat. “I- I’m trying!”

You try to buck your hips up, but his body weight prevents you from doing so. You’re trapped and at his mercy, and he can barely maneuver his body with his hands restrained.

“I don’t think she’s even close,” Chan taunts. He sounds as if he’s taking great joy in this. “Is that all you’re good for? Humping her until you cum?”

Seungmin blinks back frustrated tears. “N-No! I-“ He moans as your walls flutter around him, effectively silencing him.

“Make her cum.” Chan slides off the couch and kneels next to the two of you. “You can do that, can’t you? You made such a fuss about how you were a better dom than me after all.”

Seungmin makes eye contact with you again, mouth falling open. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get enough leverage to properly thrust into you. When he opens his eyes, tears bubble out of them.

Chan taps the plug in Seungmin, causing the man to jerk. “Would it help if I fucked you? Would my momentum fuck you into her? Or would it just make you cum immediately?”

“No. I can do this,” Seungmin slurs as Chan tugs at the plug until it’s at his rim, stretching him at to the max. “I- Just let me-“

You have enough and reach down to your clit. “I can’t believe I have to do it myself.”

“Did you hear that?” Chan places his hands on Seungmin’s hips. “I fucked her better.”

Seungmin and you both let out cries as Chan guides Seungmin into you. With your own hand at your clit, and actually having a rhythm with Seungmin’s cock, you can feel yourself getting close.

Seungmin’s hands are clawing for anything to grab at as Chan moves his hips for him. Chan takes pity on him and undoes the cuffs, and Seungmin immediately wraps his arms around you.

You arch up to kiss Seungmin, swallowing his whines. He eagerly returns the affection and allows you to slip your tongue in his mouth.

Then you’re having your third orgasm, moaning. Seungmin is wrenched away from you, his eyes glazed over as his dick spurts onto your pussy.

You shiver at the missing warmth as his body is maneuvered away from you. He’s bent over the couch, clutching at anything he can as the plug is eased from him. He lets out another pathetic whimper as it pops free.

Chan kisses his forehead, cleaning him up fondly. You’re given similar treatment before being tucked in next to Seungmin, watching as Chan goes off to grab some water.

“Doing okay?” you ask Seungmin, running a hand through his hair.

He hums sleepily, eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay. I had fun,” you assure him. Chan returns and hands you both glasses of water. “Did you not…?”

Chan clears his throat, looking away. “I did when you two were messing around.”

“Ah.” You nod and sip at your drink. “Well next time you make one of those bets, I want in. I think I could do pretty good.”

Taglist (Open):

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche

[gf2bellamy]

hiiii hun💗💗 i love your spencer fics so much i literally get giddy when i open tumblr and i see you’ve put up new ones 🥰🥰

can i request a spencer x neighbour!reader like maybe one of them knocks on their door to complain about noise or accidentally closes the elevator door on them and initially don’t like each other and then they run into each other again and get talking and invite them in for a drink or dinner?

idk if you’ve written something like this already if u have then nvm haha thanksss take careeeee

-🍓

neighbours — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: spencer sort of being dry / cold ( only in the beginning ) , mention of reader having a bad day a/n: thank you so much that makes me so happy :( <3333 - i hope you like this !! also i had to mention of mice and men i love that book so so much

You were having a terrible day. The kind of day where nothing seemed to go right. Your morning coffee had spilled all over your favorite sweater, your boss had dumped an unreasonable amount of work on your desk, and to top it all off, you’d gotten stuck in the rain on your way home. By the time you walked through your front door, you were soaked, frustrated, and in desperate need of some comfort. 

That’s why you had your music turned up loud, the bass thumping through your small apartment as you stood in the kitchen, staring at the oven.

The scent of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air, but they weren’t baking fast enough for your liking. You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter, tapping your foot impatiently. If you stared hard enough, maybe they’d bake faster.

You were so lost in your thoughts that the knock on your door startled you. You straightened up, frowning. You weren’t expecting anyone, and your friends usually texted before showing up.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Standing on the other side was your neighbor—the tall, lanky guy from across the hall. You were pretty sure his name was Spencer. You’d seen him around a few times, always carrying a stack of books or muttering to himself as he fumbled with his keys.

Your friends had heard you refer to him as “the cute neighbour” more than once, and you never felt the need to correct them.

You opened the door slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Hi?” you said, your voice tinged with confusion. 

He stood there, looking slightly awkward and not particularly happy. His hair was a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a sweater that looked like it had seen better days.

“Hi,” he replied, his tone flat. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, avoiding direct eye contact. “Could you, um, lower your music? It’s… kind of loud.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected him to say, that wasn’t it. You crossed your arms over your chest, your frustration from the day bubbling to the surface. “It’s not that loud,” you said defensively, your voice sharper than you intended. “I’m just trying to unwind after a really crappy day.” 

Spencer’s eyes flicked up to meet yours for a brief moment before darting away again. He looked uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.

“I understand that,” he said slowly, his voice softer now, “but it’s… it’s really distracting. I’m trying to work, and I can’t focus with the bass vibrating through the walls.” 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Part of you wanted to argue, to tell him that you had every right to blast your music in your own apartment, but the look on his face stopped you.

He didn’t seem angry—just tired and a little stressed. Still, you weren’t ready to back down completely. “Fine,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’ll turn it down. But just so you know, it’s not like I do this every day.” 

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I appreciate it.” 

You didn’t respond, just closed the door a little harder than necessary and leaned against it, letting out a frustrated groan.

Great. Now you were the bad guy. You stomped back to the kitchen and turned the music down, the sudden silence making the apartment feel eerily empty.

The timer on the oven dinged, and you pulled out the cookies, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was heavenly, but it did little to improve your mood. 

In the days that followed , things between you and Spencer were… awkward. Not hostile, but not exactly friendly either. You’d pass each other in the hallway, exchanging the briefest of glances before quickly looking away.

There were no greetings, no small talk—just a dry, unspoken tension that hung in the air.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. He was just your neighbor, after all. Sure, he was cute in a nerdy, endearing kind of way, but that didn’t mean you had to be friends.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed every time you saw him and he didn’t so much as smile in your direction. 

A week later, you found yourself in the cozy little bookstore across the street from your apartment. It was one of your favorite places to escape to.

You’d been searching for a specific book for ages—Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. You’d read it before, years ago, but something about the story had stuck with you, and you’d been itching to revisit it.

As you wandered through the fiction section, your eyes scanned the spines of the books until you finally spotted it. There it was, sitting on the shelf like it had been waiting for you.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you reached for it, but just as your fingers brushed the spine, another hand reached for it at the same time.

You froze, your eyes darting up to meet Spencer’s. He looked just as surprised as you were, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

“Sorry,” you mumbled finally, dropping your hand and taking a step back. “You can have it.”

Spencer blinked, his expression softening. “No, no, it’s okay,” he said quickly, his voice quiet. “You were here first. I can find another copy.”

You shook your head, gesturing toward the book. “Really, it’s fine. I’ve read it before. I was just… in the mood to read it again.”

He hesitated, his fingers brushing the edge of the book. “It’s a good one,” he said after a moment, his tone thoughtful. “The themes of friendship and sacrifice are really compelling. And the ending…” He trailed off, his gaze distant, as if he were reliving the story in his mind.

You couldn’t help but smile, surprised by how easily he’d opened up about it.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice softer now. “It’s heartbreaking, but in a way that makes you think. I remember finishing it and just sitting there for a while, trying to process everything.”

Spencer nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Exactly. It’s one of those books that stays with you long after you’ve read it.”

The tension between you seemed to melt away as you talked, the conversation flowing more naturally than you’d expected.

You found yourself leaning against the bookshelf, your arms crossed as you debated the symbolism of the rabbits and the dream of owning a farm. Spencer, for his part, seemed to relax too, his gestures becoming more animated as he spoke.

At one point, he paused, his expression turning slightly sheepish. “I, um, I wanted to apologize for the other day,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t mean to come off as rude when I asked you to turn the music down. I was just… stressed, and I didn’t handle it well.”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt. “No, I’m the one who should apologize,” you said quickly. “I was having a bad day, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Spencer shifted his weight, his fingers tapping lightly against the book he was still holding. “So, um,” he began, his voice hesitant, “if you’re not in a rush, there’s a coffee shop next door. I was going to grab a cup, and… well, if you’d like to join me, we could keep talking about the book. Or, you know, whatever.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation.. “Yeah,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”

His smile widened, and you could’ve sworn you saw a faint blush creep across his cheeks. “Great,” he said, his voice a little brighter now. “Let me just, uh, pay for this first.”

He turned and walked toward the register, leaving you standing there, slightly stunned. You watched as he handed the cashier the book. When he turned back to you, he held the book out, his expression soft.

“Here,” he said, offering it to you. “You should have it. You were looking for it, after all.”

You stared at him, surprised. “But… you paid for it,” you said, your voice tinged with confusion. “I can’t just take it.”

He shrugged, his smile shy but persistent. “Consider it a peace offering.”

You hesitated for a moment before taking the book, your fingers brushing against his briefly. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your cheeks warming. “That’s… really sweet of you.”

He nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “So, coffee?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

“Coffee,” you agreed smiling, tucking the book under your arm.

[shorthaltsjester]

sorry it so truly laughable to me to look at campaign 3 and determine the success of the stories therein based on screentime like. disregarding the fact that i personally take c3 to be the least valuable in terms of stories told, particularly ones about romantic love, for the moment: on principle it’s goofy as hell to think that a large amount of hours = a story that has something to say let alone something meaningful to say. like, yasha and beau, for example, have a fairly small amount of hours due to the fact that a) ashley missed half the campaign b) they were also generally slowburn, and while that influences the depth of certain aspects of the story, the time spent with yasha and beau has little to do with how meaningful their story is. it wouldn’t matter if they had 10 hours of screen time or 100 if what is in question is the story told; yasha’s story as someone chained by grief choosing to move on & beau’s story as someone angry after a life of being treated like shit finally getting justice for the wrongs done to her which both conclude in their campaign’s finales aren’t successful because I can launch some meaningless number of how many hours it took them to take build those stories together into the ether and say “they did this for women’s rights” just because two women existed beside one another. both yasha and beau resonate as stories that have a significant feminist read because they both deal with fantasy versions of things extremely relevant to women in a way that maintains their agency without shirking their responsibility, and they are particularly strong stories about queerness not simply because they’re two women who fuck but because they deal with emotional themes relevant to queer experiences — anger and grief — and how, while the reasons for those emotions are grounded ones, they both choose to grow beyond the boundaries they allowed those emotions to enforce in their lives.

further, the notion of screentime for a show that takes care to show all of the players on screen at a time in a medium where the player/character distinction isn’t always clear is such a subjective calculation and on top of being a stupid justification for ‘success’ or ‘value’ of a story, is also easy to manipulate to your favour.

it’s just, the screentime for im*dna’s relevance and success doesn’t ring true to me just because it’s a bad reason. but further it just isn’t persuasive. i don’t care if i see someone for 1000 hours or 1, if a story resonates it will do so with any amount of time. whatever amount of screentime they’re calculated to have does nothing to repair or hide the fact that their story as a couple says very little of value in the text, without whatever fanfic extrapolation has taken place (and to be clear, this isn’t to say fanfic can’t be valuable, it’s to say that the character explorations you do in fic or in meta for that matter doesn’t mean that analysis or elaboration is canon). like. halfway through the campaign, before they got together, imogen told laudna “our weirdness is what makes us right” and laudna agreed verbally but now 1 billion hours of screentime later or whatever, laudna has still failed to integrate that belief into her, which is made obvious in a scene after the divine intervention that ties laudna’s life to imogen’s when imogen tells laudna she’s grateful she got to hear the music of laudna’s thoughts, and laudna’s response is “it was probably a bit of the insanity, honestly”, something which on paper might read like a joke but in the moment is played like a (maintained from hours upon hours previous) dismissal of what imogen is saying she values about laudna, evident in the way laura/imogen deflates when she says “well, it was pretty…”. and simply because it’s been a trillion hours of screentime that’s supposed to be representative of a relationship in which the characters help each other to grow.

(addendum to say that stories that are about stagnancy can be just as valuable as stories about growth, but textually and by the sections of fandom im critiquing here, imogen and Especially laudna are treated as a relationship that grows)

truly, if anything, counting up as many hours as possible to dictate the success of imogen and laudna’s story actually ends up working against the story. because i’d probably be more forgiving of the stagnancy if it was a shorter story, but knowing that they had so many hours and still failed to deliver a story with actions and behaviour that matched the claims the characters would make and the tropes/themes that would get applied to them, that makes it worse.

[angstywaifu]

Jealousy - Garrick Tavis

Request - Jealous garrick tavis one, with angst and lots of love after confessing feelings @thegiftofacreativemind

Masterlist | Links

“What in gods name crawled up your ass and died?” Imogen snickers as Bodhi tries to hide his laughter as I glare at her.

“Nothing. Now get back to training.” I bark at her.

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “It’s because Y/N is spending less time with him. He’s jealous of her new friend.”

“I am not.” I snap at him causing them both to snicker at me.

“You do. You look like you’re about two seconds away from walking over there and ripping his head off.” Xaden adds from where he leans against the wall watching.

As much as I was denying it to them, I was jealous. I wanted nothing more to go over there and pull that damn flier away from her. Tell him to back off and find someone else to train with. But I know that wouldn’t go down well. Would earn me a slap and some choice words from Y/N. The fun of being fucking obsessed with your best friend and unable to do anything about it. I couldn’t wreck that. I was her best friend. A best friend who had a fucking reputation for not settling down. And now here I was head over heels for her and nothing I could do because she’d seen me go from girl to girl.

“I am not.” I snap again at him over my shoulder.

I barely hear the others laugh and snicker at me as I see red. On the mat they’d chosen to spar on I watch as he manages to pin her to the mat beneath him. Pinning her hands to the mat above her head. Sitting on her hips as he holds her down. Watching as his face flushes, the way his eyes take her in. His attention shifts when she throws him off her, causing their laugh to echo across the make shift gym.

He gets to his feet first, holding his hand out to her to help her up. I grind my teeth as she smiles up at Him and takes his hand. Laughing as he pulls her up and she stumbles into him, resting her other hand on his arm as she rights herself.

I move before I even realise I have. Bodhi muttering an “oh shit” behind me as I storm across the gym. The flier looks up as I approach, colour draining from his face as I storm over to them. She turns and follows his line of sight, her eyes capturing mine instantly. She furrows her brow, clearly confused as to why I look so angry as I storm over to them.

She opens her mouth to speak but the words die on the lips as I grab her arm and pull her away. She stumbles after me in an effort to keep up with me as I drag her over to the door that leads to the adjoining courtyard of Riorson house. I push her into the open door of the throne room, slamming the door shut behind us.

“What the hell was that?” She snaps at me as I pace back and forth in front of her, clenching and unclenching my fists.

I ignore her question, unsure how to answer after how I’d just reacted in front of everyone. So much for not reacting. Dumbass. She steps in front of me, stopping me in my tracks as she stands there with her arms crossed over her chest as she looks up at me. Confusion and anger are written all over her face. I go to side step her but she just steps in front of me again.

“Talk. Now.” She barks out.

“It’s not-“

“Garrick Theodore Tavis. What. The hell. Was that?” She demands.

Shit. Full name. Not good. She never uses that on me. Ever. It’s like being scolded by my parents all over again. Yet some how this is far scarier.

“I…. I didn’t like how he was touching you. Looking at you.” I admit gruffly as I avert my eyes from her. I didn’t want to see how she was going to react. Didn’t want to see the pity she might show me.

“We were sparring Garrick. Of course he was going to have to touch me. That’s the whole point.” She says with a shake of her head as walks a few steps away. “You can’t go protective best friend because I’m training with someone.”

Ouch. There it was. Best friend. The words I didn’t want to hear.

“Trust me it had nothing to do with you sparring.” I growl out as I turn my eyes back to her.

She spins around to face me, anger evident in her features. “Then please Garrick, tell me what it is. Because from where I’m standing it looks like my best friend is jealous because I’ve made a new friend while you’ve been off on patrols and missions. You can’t expect me to sit around in my room on my own while you go away for days at a time. I need other friends Garrick.”

“Trust me, he wants more to be more than just friends.” I snap at her angrily, letting my jealously get the better of me.

“And would that be such a bad thing that a guy finally showed interest in me?” She asks, her voice cracking at the end, letting me see a glimpse of how hurt she is.

“Yes!” I yell at her without thinking. “No. God dammit. You deserve to be happy Y/N, more than anything.”

“Then what the hell is it Garrick? Because I’m not sure what you want from me right now.”

“You.” I say as I take a tentative step towards her. She looks at me in shock, her lips parting as if she wants to say something. “I want you Y/N. Have for a while now.”

“No.” She says as she shakes her head in denial. “Y-you don’t do relationships.”

I can’t deny that. She’s watched casually go from girl to girl for years. Never once had I settled on one girl. It wasn’t cause I didn’t want to. It was because no one held my interest, and with everything that had been going on, committing to someone was the last thing I needed. But in the last few weeks that had changed. She’d gone from being my best friend, to someone I wanted more with. Our entire friendship toed that line, but thats all it was. Till it wasn’t. She’d been in front of me this whole damn time. And

”Maybe I do. Maybe there’s someone right in front of me that made me realise that’s what I want.” I admit, taking another step towards her, closing the gap between us.

She lowers her head, looking down at her hands that she fidgets with nervously. “Don’t.”

”Don’t what?” I ask as I reach out to grasp her hands in mine, but she pulls them back as she cradles them against her stomach.

”Don’t say those things.” She says as she takes a step back and looks up at me, her eyes glistening with tears she does her best to blink back. Shit. “Don’t say those things and get my hopes up.”

Holy shit. She feels the same way. But she’s trying not to. I can see in her eyes that she’s been holding back. And I know it’s because of my fucking history with girls. I reach out but she takes another step back.

”Trust me, I am not getting your hopes up. I didn’t just lose it in front of all the riders and fliers here just to get your hopes up.” I growl out, her eyes widening at my tone and words. “Gods I’d do it again just to prove to you how much you mean to me and to prove I’m past what I use to be like.”

As her lips part to protest I close the distance, grasping her face in my hands as I bring my lips to hers. It doesn’t take long for her lips to move against mine, kissing me back intensely and passionately as she wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers tugging on my hair. I can’t help the groan that rumbles in my throat, my body wanting and craving her more as she pulls herself flush against my body. Her lips part easily for me as I pull her lower lip between my teeth, gasping as I claim her mouth. I move my hands down her body, grasping her waist in my hands as I hold her tightly. Just as I lower a hand to the back of her thigh the door to the throne room bangs open, both of us breaking apart to stare at Brennan who stands there looking at us in shock.

He clears his throat as he hides the shock from his face. “Might be good if you two found another place to do that.” He says, trying to hide the smile on his lips.

I nod at him, taking her hand in mine as I pull her past Brennan and out into the courtyard just as everyone leaves the training room, Bodhi and Imogen’s eyes instantly finding us as we walk out of the throne room hand in hand. Fucking great.

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I love your writing and I love that you post so frequently! Could you wrote a fic based on the scene in the finally in which Rupert tells West Ham's coqch to take Jamie out? Could be a separate story (maybe Y/N is Richmond's lawyer) and she finds out and wants to finish Rupert? Or in the P/A universe and Jamie teases her about being protective and caring about him after she stands up to Rupert?

Thanks!

Red Card

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes, angry Y/N, sexist joke from Rupert

A/N: I hope it's okay that I used your request for a Jamie Tartt x PA ff, I thought it fit so well. Thank you for the idea!

The energy in Nelson Road was electric. The stands were packed with Richmond fans, their chants echoing through the stadium as the team prepared for one of their toughest matches yet. The anticipation was palpable, the tension thick in the air, but none of it compared to the storm brewing inside her the moment she overheard Rupert Mannion’s words.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be standing on the sidelines during the match—technically, her job as Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant didn’t require her to be this close to the action. But after years of working with Jamie, she’d become part of Richmond’s inner circle, always hovering near the dugout with Roy, Beard, and Ted, ready to handle whatever ridiculous emergency Jamie threw at her.

But tonight? Tonight, she was glad she was there.

Because she overheard everything.

Standing just a few feet from West Ham’s technical area, she had no choice but to hear Rupert fucking Mannion—West Ham’s owner, snake, all-around waste of oxygen—lean toward his coach and murmur,

"Take Tartt out."

She had frozen, fingers tightening around the clipboard she had been holding.

"Hard. Do whatever it takes."

It was quiet. Calculated. Cruel.

Rupert’s voice was as smooth as it was poisonous, a quiet command given to West Ham’s coach, the kind of thing meant to be whispered in dark corners and carried out with no one the wiser. But she had heard it, and once she had, there was no way in hell she was going to let it slide.

It made something snap inside her.

Without thinking, she stormed across the grass, ignoring Roy’s “Oi, what the fuck are you doin’?” and Beard’s sharp “Y/N—don’t—”

She was already moving.

Marching straight up to him.

“Mister Mannion,” she said, voice saccharine-sweet with rage.

Rupert barely glanced at her. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Didn’t realize Jamie let his little assistant wander around unsupervised.”

She clenched her jaw. “I heard what you just said about Jamie.”

Rupert smirked. “Did you?”

“You told your coach to injure him.” Her voice was pure steel.

Rupert sighed, as if she were boring him. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Football is a physical sport.” He tilted his head, looking her over like she was some insignificant little thing he could swat away. “Though, I suppose you’d know all about being handled roughly. What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed?”

Y/N lunged.

Her vision went red as she launched herself at him, fully prepared to end him right then and there.

Before she could so much as grab the smug bastard, two line refs yanked her back.

“Let me go—” she growled, twisting in their grip.

Roy and Ted were already jogging toward her, Roy looking absolutely thrilled and Ted looking like he was suppressing laughter.

One of the refs shook his head. “Sorry, miss, but you’re outta here.”

She stood beside Roy and Ted on the touchline, fuming, while the referee held up the red card like she was some kind of violent offender.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Ted said, ever the peacemaker. “Now, I don’t wanna tell ya how to do your job, sir, but surely we can all agree that giving someone a red card when they aren’t technically a player is a little… excessive?”

“It’s the rules,” the ref said flatly.

“She doesn’t even play, mate!” Roy barked. “You can’t send her off!”

The ref shrugged. “Rules are rules.”

Roy, arms crossed, scowled so hard he looked ready to combust. “It’s a stupid fucking rule.”

“Stupid or not, she has to leave,” the ref insisted.

Y/N threw her arms in the air. “Oh, come on! I didn’t even do anything.”

The linesman coughed. “You tried to assault West Ham’s owner.”

“Tried being the keyword,” she snapped. “If you lot hadn’t held me back, I’d have succeeded.”

Rupert, still standing smugly nearby, let out a low chuckle. “My, my,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “I didn’t realize Jamie’s assistant was so… passionate about her job.”

Y/N whirled back toward Rupert. “You’re a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man,” she seethed.

Rupert only chuckled, waving his fingers at her like she was some little girl throwing a tantrum. “Run along now.”

The rage inside her burned.

“If anyone on West Ham lays a hand on Jamie, I swear to God, I will—”

Rupert tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “It looks an awful lot like you’re getting rather—” his lips curled into a smirk, “—emotionally involved with your client.”

The audacity of this man.

She felt the anger boiling in her chest, sharp and blinding, but before she could lunge, two line refs grabbed her arms, holding her back.

“Ohhh, I hate you,” she seethed.

Rupert just smiled, infuriatingly unbothered. “Careful now, boys. Wouldn’t want Jamie’s newest toy to get too scratched up before he inevitably trades her in for someone better.”

That was it. That was her breaking point.

She surged forward, only for the refs to tighten their grip, dragging her back toward the tunnel.

“LET ME AT HIM,” she yelled, legs kicking uselessly as she was forcibly removed.

“Jesus Christ,” Roy muttered, but there was unmistakable approval in his tone.

Ted just sighed. “Well, that went about as well as we could’ve hoped.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he dismissed her or the fact that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, but she let the refs drag her off, still spitting curses as Roy followed them, arguing the whole way.

Jamie, standing on the pitch, barely caught the end of it—just enough to see his PA being forcibly escorted out, Roy yelling at the ref, and Y/N looking ready to kill someone.

He frowned. “What the fuck?”

Isaac, jogging up beside him, snorted. “Mate, Y/N just got a red card. She got sent off.”

“Right. And… why?” Jamie blinked. “She ain’t even a player.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got more fight in her than half of us,” Isaac muttered.

Sam, ever the optimist, said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explana—”

“—Apparently she tried to murder Mr. Mannion,” Colin interrupted.

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuckin' hell.”

Jamie found her in the locker room after the game, sitting on one of the benches with her arms crossed, scowling at the floor.

She barely glanced up as he walked in.

He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirking. “So.”

She huffed. “So.”

He tilted his head. “Wanna tell me why my personal assistant got sent off the pitch? ’Cause, I gotta say, love, that’s a new one—even for you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Rupert told his coach to target you. To hurt you.”

Jamie felt something twist in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised—not really—but hearing it from her, hearing how angry she was about it…

It did something to him.

Before he could respond, she turned to face him fully, eyes blazing. “And then that prick had the audacity to say some sexist bullshit about me, and I—” She clenched her fists. “I snapped.”

Jamie smirked. “You snapped.”

“Yes.”

“And got dragged off the pitch.”

“Yes.”

“And got a red card even though you don’t play football.”

She groaned, rubbing her face. “Yes.”

Jamie couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Jamie.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

She scoffed. “Of course, I care about you. You’re my job.”

Jamie smirked. “And?”

“And nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Jamie leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You sure sure?”

Y/N shoved him. “Shut up, Jamie.”

He laughed, stepping back. “Alright, alright.” He crossed his arms, eyes still bright with amusement. “But just so you know—next time, if you’re gonna get sent off, at least make it worth it.”

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

And even though he teased her for it—because of course he would—he couldn’t help but feel something warm settle in his chest.

Because she had fought for him.

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (9)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking, misogynism, slow burn, cocky SB, language, fluff?

A/N: Another short drabble with these two.

Cabin at the lake (8)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

“Why don’t you let me down?” You mutter. Soldier Boy refused to let you walk inside the cabin. He carries you over the threshold, still not letting you down.

“You’ll only get hurt again. I must keep a close eye on my clumsy girl. If you get hurt again, you will blame me.” He smirks as you lean your head against his shoulder. Once again, you’re too tired and wound tight to do more than give in.

“Can you just let me have a rest and get me food?” You huff, not in the mood to argue. “You promised to cook for me. Hopefully, you want to keep that promise.”

“You won’t lift a finger tonight, sweetness. My lady doesn’t have to work or do more than take dick,” he snickers because you growl his name, along with profanities. “We will get you there, baby. I’ll make you my pretty housewife, and the moment you have little Soldier Boy in your belly, you’ll purr like a cat for me.”

“Why does everything you say have something to do with your dick?” You’re angry at Soldier Boy. He just can’t have a normal conversation. Or so it seems. “I told you that I’m hungry, and not for dick!”

“Soon, baby,” he says while carefully placing you on the couch. Soldier Boy covers you with a warm blanket and checks on your hand. “I know the meds are kicking in. The doctor said it can happen that you will feel dizzy and maybe a little disoriented. The stuff Vought gave you was no good.”

“Vought isn’t interested in helping anyone but themselves. All they have in mind is money. They use everyone, and if you are no longer useful, they’ll get rid of you. Supe or not.”

“I already got that, baby cakes,” he purrs, lips pressing against your cheek. “I use them too to make a shit ton of money before I say goodbye to living the life I always wanted to live. They believe I’m their loyal lapdog.”

Soldier Boy laughs. He walks off and toward the small kitchenette.

“You can’t fuck void over. They will know. They always know,” you harrumph. “If you try to work against them, everyone you like will stand in the line of fire.”

“I only like you, and you’re not going to leave my side. I’ll protect you,” he casually says. He doesn’t take Vought seriously, but you do. They will not let Soldier Boy, their poster boy, go.

“Soldier Boy, they will never let you out of your contract. You know that.” You try to reason with your boss. “If you try, they’ll kill you.”

“Ben,” he says while rummaging in the kitchenette.

“What?” You crane your neck to watch him get a pan out of one of the cupboards.

“My name is Ben,” Soldier Boy says. “You can call me by my name. Soldier Boy is just the suit and shield. When we are alone, you can call me Ben or baby. Whatever you like better.”

You throw a pillow at him but smile. Soldier Boy never told you his real name or did anything nice for you. Now he cooks dinner and tells you his name.

“Fine.” You snuggle into the blanket and close your eyes. “I like Ben better. If only he’d stop talking about his dick.”

“One step after another, sweetness,” he calls from the kitchenette. “You cannot expect me to tame the beast in my pants. He only wants you.”

“Christ, if you are that obsessed with my cunt, you should feed it when my hand is better,” you grumble and turn around on the couch to get some sleep. Dinner will take some time, and you’re tired.

“You want me to take care of your pussy?” He suddenly stands in front of the couch to look down at you. “Y/N, don’t play with me. If you want me to destroy it, tell me now.”

You smile to yourself but remain silent.

“I’ll take this as a yes,” Ben nods to himself. “Alright. I’ll get dinner ready for you. The moment your hand is healed, your kitty will end up well-fed…”

Tags in reblog.

[eternal-love]

HARD ODDS TO BEAT

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!reader

Summary: You tried to fit in with the Vandals, you really didn’t mean to humiliate Benny.

Warning: Benny gets violent against reader. Toxic relationship.

Note: The gif is courtesy by my bestest girl @aust-een, and the idea was also prompted by her. We LOVE her in this blog. Everyone say thank you to Miss Cross.

The bar smelled like cigarette, sweat and grease. As you sat besides Benny, his arm around your shoulders as he smoked and drank. They were telling stories, Benny wasn’t much of a talker but this time he was being pretty talkative.

After Corky finished telling his story, you were going to tell about how last week Benny had an embarrassing encounter with the police. You were laughing as you told the story, Benny not so much. But the guys found it funny too.

“And so I’m home, and there’s a knock on my door. And it’s the police,” you chuckled. “And he tells me, Mrs. Cross, your husband’s in trouble on the other street. So of course, I grab my bag and go with him. He tells me Benny tried robbing this corner store, but the owner was a veteran. So when I arrive, an officer has Benny pinned to the police car.”

Benny smirked, before putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s enough, doll—“

“And the old man was a raging bull, his nostrils flaring and he was tryin’ to get to Benny again. Benny was all beaten up, and panting—“

“You should’ve seen how I left that motherfucker.” Benny tried to save face, he was always an intimidating, nonchalant guy. This time, he wasn’t.

“He kicked your ass, Benny. You know it’s true, you can’t fight to save your life but you look fuckin’ good.”

That’s when everyone laughed, but Johnny laughed harder, loudly, it echoed all across the bar. Deep down, Benny craved Johnny’s approval, he saw him as a father.

“She ain’t wrong, kid.” Johnny nodded as he kept laughing. “It is true, innit?”

Each laugh hurt his ego, and he didn’t like that. He clenched his jaw as he drank his beer or took a drag from his cigarette.

“Turns out, the old man had kicked his ass. Hand on hand, and pinned Benny to the ground. All because of a pack of cigs and a flask. The police was strollin’ down when they saw benny on all fours trying to get back to the old man.” You laughed, you found the story funny giving Benny’s rebel attitude.

But it was as if you were trying to piss him off, like you were doing it on purpose, so he’d start hating you more than he sometimes already did.

“Wearin’ your colors, robbin’ corner stores. And you still can’t win against an old man!” Johnny found it funny too, he was glad Benny got a taste of his own chocolate

“Hard odds to beat when you’re all on fours, no, baby?” You nudged him with your elbow playfully. His eye twitched after that.

The fuck did you mean with Hard odds to beat when he’s on all fours? That you thought of him as submissive, powerless or even worse— weak? He’d show you how fucking weak he could be.

Once everyone got to their own thing late that night, he practically dragged you into the bathroom. You had fucked in there with him a couple times. You were all smiles. Even if the bathroom was filthy.

“This is getting exciting.” You smiled, but then he shoved you against the wall, you did hit the back of your head. “What the fuck was that for?” You whined.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Making me look like a fool in front of them?” Benny got closer to you, oh he was angry, not angry, enraged, fuming. “Mmm?” He hummed, close to your face, you could smell the Marlboros and beer on his breath.

“I was just trying to join in, Benny. I didn’t think—“

He interrupted you, harshly. “Well you better start thinking. Start using that fucking head of yours.” With his pointing finger, he repeatedly poked the side of your head. Aggressively.

“Listen, I was just trying to join in the conversation. Have fun.” You tried to defend yourself, stand up against him.

Oh, that set him on fire. He punched the wall besides your head, it made you flinch, of course. There were times in which Benny didn’t control his rage, he could get violent. For instance putting his hand on your throat, sometimes he left bruises in your arms, yanking your hair.

“Tryin’ to have fun? Making me the butt of the joke? You think I’m weak? I’ll show you how fucking weak I can be.” He took a handful of your hair, yanking it. “You shouldn’t even think of speaking up. Nothing smart ever comes out your fucking mouth. It only serves one purpose and that’s it.”

You were quick to try and apologize, not wanting to end up with a bruise. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, Benny, it was harmless banter.”

“Keep testin’ me, doll. Ain’t nothing gonna stop me from now on. And we don’t want that, do we?” Benny caressed your face, but his hand carried an edge to it.

He couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking he was weak. That he somewhat was powerless, when he had proved many times to have the upper hand in the relationship. He proved it, one way or another, but he proved it.

“This is your last fucking warning, I’m not going to let you do this again. Got it?” Benny said, harshly and threateningly. Yanking your hair once again, making you whine.

He scared you, at times. You knew that this was on you, you chose to stay all the times, no matter how much of an idiot he was, or how violent he could be, you simply stayed. There was just something about him, you couldn’t put your finger on it. Tears pricked your eyes and he noticed them.

“You chose this. Don’t go on playing victim. I only do this because I love you. I love you.” He said softly, before dragging you out the bathroom, through the bar and outside. He probably left a bruise there because of how tightly he was grabbing you.

He came on his back, you arrived on your car a little later to the bar. He got your keys from your back pocket and opened the driver’s door and basically shoved you into the seat, slamming the door shut.

You took a deep breath. Thinking it was over, until Benny smashed your windshield, you didn’t even see with what he did it. Oh, he absolutely trashed your car.

“Hard fucking odds to beat when you’re all on fours, no, baby?” He said, out of breath, smirk on his face.

In horror, you couldn’t believe he would do this. “What the fuck is your problem?” You freaked out, your car!

“This is all your fault. Get it in your head.” Benny said as he leaned on your car window. “Go home.”

He always had a power to make you cry on the spot and you hated that. Because you knew that even after all of this, you would probably forgive him once he came home.

His violent streaks didn’t scare you, it was the fact that no matter how much he would hurt you, you would still be stupid enough to stay.

Hard odds to beat when you’re all on fours— he had the upper hand. You were vulnerable, you couldn’t win against him, it was like that fight he had with the old man. But this time he was the old man and you were Benny. He had you pinned down with his left boot and you couldn’t push him off. No matter how hard you tried. It never worked. And you were stuck with him.

To him you were so fucking annoying, but he liked having someone that would wait for him even though he would leave for months at a time. He always acted as if he was nonchalant and didn’t care, but he cared, a lot. He liked to know that you worried, it fed his big ego. And he wouldn’t let you go. No fucking way.

[hannahssimblr]

Later, in bed, I toss about. There are too many throw pillows. Astrid’s childhood bedroom is unexpected like that. Floral wallpaper and painted storybook style furniture painted soft green. Fabric lamps printed with delicate petals and trimmed with lace. The bedroom of a fictional princess. 

I’m bothered by the pearl earrings, back in their box on the side table, lit faintly by moonlight through thin curtains. Replaying the scene by the Christmas tree over and over. Coming at it from different angles, all of which I come out looking like the idiot who doesn't know his own girlfriend.

“We all know you love Pat Conroy,” said Mia, when she handed her that book. Does she? Does she like Pat Conroy? She never mentioned it to me. I could have bought her a Pat Conroy book. I could have bought her all his work if I had known that. How is it I’ve seen her read dozens of books, but never thought to ask her about them? Every one of them might have been Pat Conroy, and I was too idiotic to check, assuming she'd turn her nose up at such humble a gift as a book. Not even a new book. It was second hand, with a red discount sticker on the back. She loved it.

And Pernille, with that lavender pillow spray. “Do you remember,” she said, “when you were a teenager and you had that terrible bout of insomnia? You couldn’t sleep for weeks, and eventually it was lavender oil that helped you. Such a simple thing, wasn’t it? How funny.”

The socks from Gitte. Colourful stripes on them. “Ha!” I thought when Astrid unwrapped them. “She won’t wear them.” But I was wrong. She wore them all evening. Took pictures of them and sent them to friends. Look! So cute! She wrote. There they are now, on the chair in the corner of her room, ready to be worn again tomorrow. I toss a throw pillow onto the floor and turn over. The little bed creaks. 

“Mmph,” Astrid murmurs. 

“Did I wake you?”

“Are you okay?”

“I just can’t sleep.”

“Oh. Do you want my pillow spray?”

“It’s fine.”

A minute passes. Two, maybe, and she might have fallen back asleep, but I’m compelled to speak through the silence. “Did you like the earrings?”

She turns, the silhouette of her sloped nose outlined against the window. “Huh?”

“Did you really like the earrings, or were you just being nice? I want to know. You can tell me.”

“Yeah, of course. I think they’re beautiful. Why are you asking me this?”

I pull the blankets under my armpits and stare at the ceiling. Stickers there of woodland animals. “I don’t know, just the things your family got you… they weren’t things I would have ever imagined you would like. I've been second guessing myself.”

“Of course they got me things I like. They’re my family. They know me.”

“Well, I didn’t know you liked certain novels, or that thing about your insomnia, for example. As your boyfriend I'm supposed to know you, too.”

“Oh, well, I suppose those things never came up.”

“You never told me. You never mentioned the insomnia.”

“When have we ever discussed insomnia specifically?”

“Well, never, but I’m sure there’ve been opportunities where you could have included it in some conversation, like for example if I ever said I didn't sleep well the night before, or we watched a film with an insomniac in it, you could have been like, 'oh, that reminds me of this one time', or whatever.”

She gets onto her elbow and stares at me. “Are you angry with me because I never told you about something that was happening for six weeks when I was sixteen?”

“No, I’m confused.”

“Confused.”

“Yes.”

“It is confusing to you? Like I don’t seem the kind of person that would suffer from insomnia?” She’s kind of laughing at me, but it isn’t funny. No, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to have insomnia. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to have any ailment or condition, be it insomnia or athletes’ foot, bronchitis or an under-the-skin pimple on the side of her nose. 

“Astrid, I feel like your family were bringing up stuff about you, and telling stories, and I had this moment in the room down there where I felt exposed. As if I don’t know you at all.”

“You think your gift was inappropriate because it wasn’t related to my past?”

“I'm worried you’ve been pretending to like the things I get for you, or something.”

Her hand comes to my hair, combing gently my scalp with her fingernails. “I don’t pretend. I like that you choose them for me.”

Incredulous. “You like that I choose them.”

“Mm. It’s a window into the way you see me.”

With a surge of emotion, I inhale loudly through my nose and her cool palm moves to my face. “What?”

“The way I see you,” I repeat. “What if I want to see who you actually are?”

“Well, you do. This is who I am.”

“What’s ‘this’?” 

She pauses. “Who I am at home and who I am with you… it’s just different sides. I like getting your gifts. I like the jewellery, because I like being who you want me to be.”

“And I want you to be…?”

“A woman who wants expensive things, reads mysterious books, and never had insomnia.”

I groan. “Is it?”

“Yes.” 

“But I’ve just realised I couldn’t even imagine you being sick at all, you know? I was with girls before who would go on about periods and shit, but you’ve never brought that up with me.”

“I don’t get period cramps.”

“Okay, well, you see my point.”

A low laugh. “I think if I did, I wouldn’t discuss it with you.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason. I don’t think you want me to have ailments and aches and pains. It’s not who I am with you.”

I cover my eyes, dizzy with a mild headache from the effort of our conversation. “Ugh!” I manage. It’s so late, and my stomach is still so full from dinner that I wish I’d just be sick to ease the discomfort. My frail mind cannot handle this discussion.

She comes closer, rests her head in the curve of my neck. “You know, this is special. Having you here on Christmas.” A strategic subject change, not gone unnoticed, but allowed, given the circumstances.

“Hm?”

“I haven’t had a boyfriend over in years. Since I was at school.”

“Oh. Should I feel honoured to be the first guy in your bed?”

She chuckles. “No. My boyfriend from school was here first, sorry to say.”

“Your mom was alright with that, was she?”

“Yeah, sure. I told her I was going to lose my virginity with him and she lit candles and left a box of condoms and some chocolates and things in a basket on the table. She was very supportive.”

“Oh, God, okay. You lost it in this very spot, and your mother knew about it while it was happening.”

“I think she would prefer here than somewhere dirty or unsafe.”

“Very progressive of her.”

“And what place did you do it?”

“Hm. Not at home. Never did anything there. Would have been too weird. I used to just do it anywhere I could find some privacy. On the ground, and stuff. Then eventually I got a car and graduated to the passenger seat.”

“Do you think your parents knew?”

“Nah, they think I'm a virgin.”

“I don’t think so.”

I nod. “Anyway, what I’m picking up from all this is that your weird little princess bedroom is not off limits? She’s already seen it all?”

“Not it all, but some. Tame things.”

“So we’re allowed? Gitte isn’t going to burst in with a bucket of water halfway?” I roll over to deliver a playful bite to her neck. “What type of woman are you, Astrid? The type to fuck a guy in her childhood bedroom while her family sleep in the other rooms?”

“If you say so,” and turns automatically to put her face into the pillow for me, but I halt her, whispering, “No, I literally couldn’t tonight. I feel too horrible from all the food. I just like knowing the option is there.”

“Sure,” she replies. “It's whatever you want.”

I know that already. This is what I want now. To kiss her temple, pull the covers over her, and let her drift off in my arms.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[bitchinbarzal]

Shut Me Out | K Kaprizov

summary: kirill isn’t handling his injury well and he takes it out on his girl.

-

Kirill's days had blurred into one long cycle of frustration. His injury was still healing, but it felt like time itself was moving too slowly. Sitting in their apartment, he had spent hours watching the Wild play—just as they had done the day before and the day before that—but it wasn't the same. Not being on the ice, not feeling the rush of the game, the roar of the crowd—it was all a distant memory now. Instead, he was left here, on the couch, immobilized. And, if he were being honest, he was angry.

He was angry at the situation, at the injury, at himself.

Y/N had been trying her best to keep him company, bringing him his favorite snacks and sitting by his side. She’d even begun watching games with him, though her interest in hockey was more out of love than any genuine passion for the sport. She tried to engage him in other ways, suggesting they go for walks, or that he try watching a new show, anything to distract him. But it all felt like a blur of activity that didn’t change anything.

This morning, she had brought him coffee and sat down next to him on the couch, offering words of encouragement. But he had been distant, barely acknowledging her, his focus entirely on the TV.

"Hey," she said, sitting beside him and watching his eyes stay glued to the screen. "You’ve been watching the game for hours. Maybe we should do something else for a bit?"

He didn’t answer right away, just let out a deep sigh, and then muttered, “I'm fine.”

Y/N frowned. “You sure? I can tell you’re not feeling great.”

Kirill set the remote down and turned to her. “I’m fine, Y/N,” he repeated, his tone sharper now. “I just don’t want to talk right now.”

She recoiled, surprised at the bite in his voice. "I just want to help, Kirill. I’m worried about you. You’ve been stuck here doing nothing, and I feel like you’re pushing me away."

“I’m not pushing you away," he shot back, his voice rising. “I just don’t need you all over me. You’re treating me like I’m some fragile thing that can’t function without your help.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. She had been nothing but caring, trying her hardest to support him through a tough time, and now, he was acting like it was too much.

“That’s not what I’m doing!" she snapped. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

"I want you to stop treating me like I’m broken!” Kirill’s voice cracked a little, the frustration of the last few weeks pouring out. "I’m not a kid. I don’t need you constantly asking how I feel or what I need. I just... I need space."

Y/N stood up, taking a step back from him, her eyes wide with shock. “Space?” Her voice trembled. “You’ve been on the couch for days. You haven’t left this apartment, Kirill. You don’t want space, you want to shut me out.”

His expression darkened, his jaw clenched. “Maybe I do want to shut you out. I just... I just want to feel like myself again, without everyone hovering over me.”

“Everyone?" Y/N blinked, almost laughing bitterly. "I’m the only one here. I’m the only one who cares about you like this, and you're acting like I’m a nuisance."

The words hit him harder than he anticipated, and for a moment, he faltered. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing away from her, trying to control the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softening as she watched him. “I just hate seeing you like this. You’re in pain, you’re frustrated, and I want to be here for you, Kirill.”

He turned to face her, his eyes tired, and there was something vulnerable in them that he hadn’t allowed himself to show before. “I don’t want to need anyone, Y/N. I’ve always been the guy who handles things on his own. I don’t know how to lean on someone, and it’s killing me.”

Her heart clenched at his confession, the sharp edge of his words now sounding hollow and raw. "You don't have to handle it all on your own," she whispered, taking a step toward him. "But I can't help you if you don't let me in."

He stared at her, his eyes shifting from frustration to something else—something softer, regretful. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his voice quiet now. "I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I just... I hate feeling useless. I hate that I can’t play, that I can’t do what I love."

“I get it,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But that doesn’t mean you have to push me away. You’re not useless, Kirill. You’re still you. And I’m here for you, no matter what."

He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his eyes, as if trying to erase the frustration that still lingered there. He looked at her, really looked at her, and the weight of his words sank in. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," he whispered. "I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t helping. You’re the only person who gets it. I just... I didn’t want to seem weak."

Y/N walked over to him and gently cupped his face in her hands. “You’re not weak, Kirill. You’re human. And sometimes, even the strongest people need help.”

The apology was slow, but it was there, and she could see it in the way his shoulders sagged with relief, in the way his eyes softened.

"I don’t want to be this guy, the one who shuts you out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I hate being like this. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough when I’m not playing."

She smiled softly, tracing her thumb along his cheek. "You’re more than good enough. You're more than hockey. You’re you. And I love you. And I’ll love you even when you’re sitting on this couch all day, feeling sorry for yourself."

He chuckled softly, his hands moving to her waist as he pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "I promise I’ll try harder to let you in. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not important to me."

Y/N smiled into his chest, feeling the weight of the tension finally lift. "I know you’ll try," she said, breathing him in. "We’ll figure this out. Together."

And for the first time in a long while, Kirill allowed himself to believe it.

[00valentina-writes00]

being bratty to vi like being like demanding and stuff how would she react

♡♥︎Vi with a Bratty/Demanding Girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Vi doesn’t put up with much, but if you’re demanding or bratty in a playful way, she’ll get a smirk on her face, knowing exactly how to handle you. She doesn’t mind a little sass, but she draws the line when you start pushing her buttons too far.

♥︎ When you throw a tantrum or act out, Vi’s patience can wear thin quickly. She’ll give you a sharp, no-nonsense look, her arms crossed over her chest. “You better cut that shit out before I have to remind you who’s in charge here,” she’ll warn, voice low and commanding. She knows you’re testing her, and she’s always up for a challenge.

♥︎ If you push her too far, she won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior, but it’s never in a cruel way. She’s blunt and to the point, saying something like, “I’m not playing this game, babe. Either you chill or I’ll make you chill.” Her tone is firm, but there’s always a glint of amusement in her eyes, like she’s enjoying the back-and-forth.

♥︎ Vi has a strict way of keeping you in line when you get bratty. She’s not afraid to use physicality to remind you of your place, whether it’s a hand on your shoulder to get your attention or her strong grip on your wrist to keep you from pushing her any further. She’s rough around the edges, but it’s always with a sense of control and care.

♥︎ Sometimes, when you’re being particularly bratty, she’ll tease you right back. Vi knows exactly how to push your buttons in return, using her humor and wit to match your energy. “You’re gonna make me do this the hard way, huh?” she’ll say, and before you know it, you’ll be grinning because you know she’s not really mad—she’s just trying to keep you in check.

♥︎ If you start acting out in public, Vi’s not afraid to grab you by the arm and pull you aside, giving you a stern talking-to. “Not here, not like this,” she’ll growl under her breath. She knows you’re testing her, but she’s not going to let you embarrass her—or yourself—over something petty.

♥︎ There are moments when you push her to the edge, and Vi’s patience snaps. She’ll say something like, “I warned you, babe,” before grabbing you and pinning you to a wall or a piece of furniture. Her hand on your throat or a firm grip on your waist keeps you in place, but her eyes tell you that she’s not angry—she’s just asserting control in a way you won’t forget.

♥︎ She has a soft spot for you, though, and after the tension dies down, Vi always makes sure to check in. If you’re sulking, she’ll bring you in for a hug, brushing your hair back or giving you a soft kiss. “You know I love you, right?” she’ll ask, even if she’s still holding a bit of that tough exterior.

♥︎ Vi likes the challenge you bring. A little bratty attitude keeps things exciting for her. She likes that you’re not afraid to speak your mind, even if it means giving her a hard time. It’s something she admires about you because, deep down, she knows that you’re strong-willed and not easily swayed by anyone.

♥︎ When you pout or try to act too stubborn, Vi’s the first to tease you, gently mocking your attitude. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?” she’ll ask with a smirk. “I’ve got more patience than you think, but don’t test me too much.” The tension shifts from frustration to something more playful, and she enjoys the banter you bring to the relationship.

♥︎ She respects your independence and won’t let you get away with manipulation or childishness for long, though. If you’re being too bratty, she’s quick to remind you that she expects maturity from you, and that means stepping up when it matters. “Don’t forget, you’re my equal,” she’ll say, “and I don’t do well with anyone who thinks they can walk all over me.”

♥︎ Vi knows when you’re acting bratty just to get attention, and while she might roll her eyes at the antics, she can’t help but love it. “You think I’m gonna fall for that? I’ll let you keep going for a minute, but I’m gonna make sure you regret it later,” she’ll warn, but you both know she enjoys it in her own way.

♥︎ When you’re demanding, Vi doesn’t mind it as long as you’re being direct about it. She’ll meet you head-on with an equal level of intensity. “What do you need?” she’ll ask, voice firm, but the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She can’t help but admire your boldness, even if you know exactly how to push her buttons.

♥︎ When you’re sulking, Vi doesn’t let you get away with it for long. She’ll either pull you into a cuddle or distract you with something she knows you’ll enjoy. “You can’t pout for too long,” she’ll tease, “not when I’ve got ways to make you smile again.”

♥︎ Even though Vi is tough as nails, she’s not afraid to let you get under her skin. In fact, she likes that you challenge her—it keeps her on her toes. But don’t mistake that for weakness; when you push too far, she knows exactly how to reign you back in.

♥︎ Vi might act like she’s annoyed sometimes, but you know the truth: she’s deeply invested in you and your relationship. Her rough exterior is just that—an exterior. Beneath it, she loves the fire you bring into her life.

[myinterestsvary-writes]

@fegafegafega :

Yet, their relationship does feel forced because of the lack of proper buildup to make their relationship have more emotional weight as I said in this post. I don’t like that it feels so casual and less serious given the multiple reasons that I’ve listed. It would’ve served the narrative better if there was more of a follow-up to the upsetting tone set at the end of season 2. I wouldn’t have felt so off with the season’s opening and wasted time being angry about it. I said in multiple other posts that the dialogue (not specifically) between them and about their relationship doesn’t feel earned because they’re telling instead of showing, even if I can feel Mark’s genuine affection for her all throughout the series so far. Eve and their relationship was far too sidelined especially last season for many viewers to truly believe what Amber and Eve talked about in the cafe in 303. There was some tension, I felt it, but it wasn’t enough for me to accept that conversation without question. I did not want to be annoyed watching their scenes the first few times but I was because of these very reasons. I just want their relationship to have more depth and given more room to breathe, and most importantly given MORE CHEMISTRY as you can absolutely write already established characters with an established relationship to have it and my suggestions could aid that specific complaint (character chemistry is described sometimes as the tension, energy, and audience engagement two or more characters have with each other; one is always reacting genuinely to the other, playing off one another).

Also, Mark and Eve are actually entwined not only by the narrative but literally by the universe it seems as even in alternative dimensions, there’s romantic undertones between their counterparts and with the Future Eve scene no matter how much they try to make sense of it and be ashamed and dismiss it, it goes to show how significant their connection is to each other. There’s even more to support my perspective from the comics but that’s spoiler territory.

I honestly appreciate more and more the way they got them together, however the main reason they feel so casual together is because of the lack of exploration of what their dynamic truly entails on many fronts including serious conflict resolution with inevitable struggles between two flawed people, they can’t help but be drawn to each other. That’s what I wanted more of. It doesn’t matter if either of them have been through enough, people will do what they do best which is mess up and underperform despite themselves.

“Your criticism for Eve is kinda like ‘she’s too mature let’s make her more insecure and irrational for the sake of drama.’ Have Eve be wary of Mark not only because of the future Eve dilemma but also because she’s been cheated on before why exactly? There’s no indication that Mark would ever cheat, and Eve has never been written as someone who projects her past onto others. Why should Eve feel guilt for having feelings for Mark? Amber and Mark are done. Amber isn’t in love with him anymore.”

For the sake of drama, yes, and also cohesion to what they already established with the character. I don’t mean projecting her past onto others, I mean making Eve confront her own past experiences with the men in her life up until Mark, that way it’ll be easy to see how she can appreciate the role Mark has in her life even more.

Regardless of whether or not Eve should feel guilt about it, there’s friendships and feelings involved. Mark and Amber had lots of love for each other and a break-up they struggled to come to making a decision on but I can believe them accepting it eventually and being okay moving on from each other, even if three months seem a little too short they can recognize it was for the best. There was time to heal but I didn’t see it all too much and wasn’t allowed to feel it or given more time to emotionally adjust to Eve and Mark being together even as someone who’s been hoping Amber and Mark would break up permanently from season 1.

“But the part I really don’t like that you said was saying, ‘Eve is way too healthy of a communicator…’ It’s so rare to see a female character in a superhero show who actually talks about her emotions and sets boundaries, and somehow you’re like you don’t like it cos it’s not messy enough?? And lastly A love triangle? For what?? A love square? Why?? A love pentagon? WHY?! Again loved the rant!”

It is not rare for a female character to do any of that, it’s rare for it to actually be respected by the narrative, which it has been so far. However, with someone with a tragic childhood and persistent stressors as the one Eve does have, letting her be a little more understandably messy (yet still being the chill Eve we know) would add more charm to her role as the main female lead outside Debbie. I enjoyed her arc in the second season, her having her own struggles that affect primarily her relationship with Mark and the plot (her being the co-protagonist in a way to Mark) would strengthen her writing and make her and their relationship less vulnerable to accusations of being boring and disengaging. It would be more nuanced and compelling, alongside her new goal of becoming an architect/engineer this season. Overall, I just want more quality character work for this powerhouse girly specifically.

eve talks, thinks, and acts too much like a psychology major. thanks, britta perry.

beware: rant below

the teenaged romantic relationships are not messy enough to be interesting. there’s a fine line among annoyingly boring - messy - and annoyingly messy. invincible, write your characters like fucking humans. they talk way too much with each other in a healthy way, there’s a lack of emotion that makes it feel bland. sure, we didn’t need cheating but i need more of an actual portrayal of complicated feelings among the cast. not just telling us, the audience, that it’s complicated. maybe it’s nice to the writers in contrast to amber and mark’s relationship to have a relationship without true obstacles to overcome, who just fit perfectly together. however, mark and amber were compelling with chemistry because their interactions related to one of the central themes and was tense because of external conflicts they had to face head on, and not just talk through. plus, they had chemistry because they got along among other reasons, so you get the sense in another life they’d still be together which hits harder and sits with you better.

another thing, mark and eve don’t just work as a couple because they’re superheroes. this was the perfect time to demonstrate the dynamic the two will have, to sell them as a couple worth screentime and ultimately endgame. it’s obvious as fuck the show is written around the two to be together from eve’s special, to their parallels, similar values and goals, and the fact that the audience could catch onto their chemistry that was apparent from the first season (and shockingly lacking later). mark and amber never felt like endgame to me yet them having more chemistry, tension, and intrigue so far is frustrating. (yes, I know their story is complete but imagine if mark and eve weren’t portrayed as teens just casually trying to date each other like they are in the third season. their feelings for each other do not feel profound at all as i feel it should be and like they’re truly destined and that a force they can’t truly comprehend brings them together blah blah blah. like they’re truly birds of a feather who understands one another on a whole other level. it’s so fucking wack.)

explore more of mark’s melancholy that his last relationship ended because he didn’t want his gf to get hurt. show more of mark’s avoidance of eve and him being nervous and reserved around her but also evidently contemplative and wistful. show more of their attraction to each other.

show more of eve’s reasonable understanding of healthy boundaries but also her disappointment in mark avoiding her, feeling insecure about it (because the one who should be insecure about stuff like this should be eve, who has dated a serial cheater as her first love). have eve be wary of mark not only because of the future eve dilemma that wasn’t even that big a deal unfortunately, so wack, such a missed opportunity but also because she’s been cheated on before, and that her dad does not like her so she’s insecure about her taste in men and doesn’t know why mark would like her. have them tiptoe around the other but make the tension palpable, not played almost entirely for comedy and quickly resolved with barely a microcosm of interpersonal conflict. have eve feel guilt when she confronts her feelings for mark, mainly because she’s friends with amber and mark too! show eve is way too healthy of a communicator and it freaks me out. she doesn’t even have to be completely like her comic counterpart, just make her feel young and human like they all were in the first and second season, making mistakes and acting on impulses.

build up the emotion to where when important beats happen, it feels significant and satisfying. like them getting together for the first time, or kissing, dating, making love etc. that way we as an audience connect with them more on an emotional level when something bad happens hint hint and it won’t feel like you’re trying to force it out of me. make us want to root for them and not lazily put them together based on a history the two share that wasn’t even mainly focused on in favour of another love interest. make us understand truly why they want and love each other instead of making it feel as casual as it does.

i would’ve loved a semi-love triangle/square/pentagon with mark, amber, eve, rex, and/or rae. anything to spice things up!

[purplethespian]

Kind of crazy how yesterday was International Holocaust Remembrance Day and I didn’t see a single post about it. Despite the fact that Nazis are back in the mainstream. And despite all the posts I was seeing last week about punching Nazis.

Just very interesting

[theverycoolestdude]

why do people jump through so many hoops just to ship incest and pedophilia