#like I knew it was only a matter of time before she started getting backlash for stupid things after she blew up but holy shit

[biawstenknight]

chappell roan should be allowed to hit people with hammers

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Got a Secret, So I'ma Drop 'Em to the Floor

Years of observation had you watching the redhead from afar- wishing, hoping, that someday you could get past your one night stands for her.

8.1K Word Count

A/N: Welp, here it is, sorry for dragging it out so long, I've been hella sick of late. Enjoy, and Merry Chrysler!

TW: daddy kink, strap on use, poorly translated Russian, face riding, angst and mutual pining, nat being a total pillow princess because she deserves it, edging. 18+

You hated this time of year. The pomp and circumstance of the holidays never sat well with you- never feeling like you had

anything worth celebrating. You were always dedicated to work first and never gave yourself the time for more than a meaningless fling. The seemingly forced happiness many coworkers at your workplace exuded, mixed with the obligatory Christmas parties, one of which you were currently getting ready for. You had no desire to attend, but the obligation of this being your business made it necessary. The buzzing of your phone on the right bedside table told you that someone had texted- presumably your assistant, Kate. 

You were lucky- you were running the only all-female partner-led law firm in New York. You, being the original, founding member, a prodigal law student from Stanford University, finishing your Masters in Criminal Law in an unheard of 3 years out of high school, and being brought up under the tutelage of Matt Murdock before breaking out of the Nelson and Murdock firm and starting your own. With much criticism at your decision to leave the best law firm in the state, you were met with unfathomable backlash, people trying to make it impossible for your firm to succeed, but your mentor knew what being the underdog meant, how hard it was, and was in your corner the entire way. 

Within the matter of a half-decade, you became one of the most highly sought-after lawyers in the state and had a legion of powerful women behind you as partners in your law firm, and with that- you had the only truly all-female law firm in the state, and most likely the country. Y/L/N, Sharpe, Book, and Walters were the best of the best. You also had a slew of “up and coming” hotshot female lawyers, people always seemed to pick apart the penchant you had for dynamic, jaw-droppingly attractive, and authoritative women. Your love life was nothing for any outsider to envy- you hardly dated, just fooled around with whatever poor, unsuspecting should fall into your allure, your uncanny ability to entice and ensnare even the most savvy and discerning women. 

Glancing at your phone, you were correct in seeing Kate's name flashing on your screen, a quick text is sent to confirm that you were, in fact, on your way to the holiday party. You peered over your shoulder, seeing the myriad of Christmas lights mixed with city lights, overlooking the holiday festivities being had in Central Park. Grasping the green pinstripe suit jacket and flinging it over the shoulder of your cream-colored turtleneck-clad frame, you made your way down to where your driver was waiting for you. Hopping into the back of the blacked-out SUV, and made your way towards the meatpacking district, to STK, where you had been able to cover the operating costs of the restaurant for the night, and then some, to ensure the restaurant was only full of employees of your large firm. A few members had ‘decorated’ the restaurant as if everyone attending didn’t already know the impending holiday was the reason for the party.

You could hear the overwhelmingly jolly music blaring from the interior of the restaurant as you arrived- you only let yourself indulge in the musical accompaniments of the season on the holiday itself, any more than that seemed to be too much. Bracing for what was behind the door, you pulled your arms through the sleeves of your coat, taking a deep breath and allowing yourself to exhale, watching the cold air around you transform your warm breath into opaque clouds. 

“Is the big, bad attorney afraid of a little festive fun?” 

You rolled your eyes in response as you turned to face the source of the voice. One of your aspiring partners, Wanda, stood behind you. With her signature head tilt and smirk, she was looming on your heels, arms crossed. She looked stunning in an all-black suit, her blazer not leaving much to the imagination as there was nothing on underneath. Of course, you knew what was underneath, you had already slept with her, to say it was a shock when she walked into your office a few days later, announcing she was the new junior attorney was an understatement. She had tried many times to get back in bed with you, but you never broke the 2-night rule. There was only one person that you consider ever breaking that rule for the one woman in the office you hadn’t seen completely bare- Natasha Romanoff. She was the only person in the office to give you a run for your money, and she could go toe to toe with your antics. She had arguably bed just as many as you, and most certainly wasn’t shy about it. 

“No, Maximoff. There’s a difference between fear and hatred. I hate the holidays.” You snark back, her tutting at her revelation. 

“Oh, Y/L/N, you should never tell others what gets under your skin. Now, come come, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.” She loops her arm in yours, leading you to the door of the chophouse. You let her lead you towards the door, withdrawing your area from hers as you walked inside, taking in the dull roar of the crowd now occupying the space, various shades of red, gold, green, and silver smattered throughout, with pine boughs and wreaths adorning the columns in the space, and various ornaments and a fairly large Christmas tree nestled in the far corner, surrounded by the gift boxes that held everyone Christmastime bonus, meticulously wrapped by your assistant. Wanda quickly made her way to a group of junior litigators who were clustered at the end of the bar. One thing you will give the redhead credit for, she certainly held the presence of being a bonafide partner, she never once acted like a timid junior who was afraid of fucking up. 

As you wormed your way through the crowd, you stopped time and time again, everyone thanking you for the party or feigning interest by asking your plans for the holidays, some of the plus ones asking where your significant other was, some of the elder employees shocked you hadn’t a girlfriend, let alone a date. By the time you had made your way to the partner’s table, the amused look on Jennifer’s face made it obvious to your disdain for the social interaction. She handed you a glass, your gaze questioning its contents as the dark brown liquid swirled around the martini glass. 

“It’s an espresso martini, Y/N. Relax. You need to loosen up.” Her eyes went wide as you slammed the booze back, smiling as you set the glass onto a passing waiter’s tray. “Jesus, I didn’t mean like that…”

“Relax, Jenn,” you snarked, mocking the tone she used with you. You slowly made your way around the table, greeting and talking to everyone, before turning around as she walked in the padded front doors. 

“You have a little bit of something…there, ya know?” Kate whispered at you, motioning at her bottom lip as you watched the woman make her way through the restaurant, her gaze briefly shooting your way, smirking as she gave you a once over. You think you may have stopped breathing, between her all-white suit with her auburn hair that you honestly just wanted to see stuck to her forehead covered in sweat, you dreamed of seeing her panting and what her moans would sound like and had to shake yourself out of it, quickly turning the other direction and flagging a waitress down for a drink. After smacking Kate and telling her to leave you alone, you flashed a bright smile at the woman who took your drink order, her shy smile causing you to laugh as you made your way toward your seat, planning on ordering your dinner so you could give everyone their token seasonal package and then the sooner you could be home, with your lingering thoughts of the redhead meandering from table to table, laughing and talking to various people throughout the room. 

***

You couldn’t help but notice throughout the night that she made her way around to every single person, including the partners, everyone except for you. Dismissing the behavior of the flirtatious redhead, you made your way to the bar, having given your speech to congratulate everyone on the banner year and wanting a repeat performance, blah, blah, blah. You began to hit on the ridiculously attractive barkeep, flirting your way to her remaining down at the end of the bar you sat, blushing at the remarks you would make as she kept you well hydrated.

“Well, Y/N, you can certainly put a holiday party together. I can’t say the same for your speeches.” Your breath caught ever so slightly, and you rolled your eyes, turning to the redhead beside you.

“Happy fucking Holidays to you too, Romanoff. Also, probably not how you should be talking to your boss.” You smirk, taking a sip of your drink before setting the drink back down on the marble bar top. You took in the woman standing next to you, her red locks curled and flowing over her shoulder, the white suit with her gold rings and necklaces, and white heels that still didn’t bring her quite to your height. You imagined the look of those necklaces dangling in your face as she rode your strap to oblivion, her hair in a curtain surrounding your face. You took another sip of your drink, watching the woman’s every move. 

“Well, boss, considering how you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, I think I should get a pass.” You almost spit out your drink at the remark. 

“What the hell are you going on about, Romanoff?” She left you speechless by the bar, winking after receiving her drink. She made her way to the makeshift dance floor on the other side of the restaurant, where she rocked and swayed with her drink and the music. She kept her distance, but her gaze was piercing through you no matter where you ended up at the party. After a few more drinks, you had finally loosened up enough to dance around with the music some, but it wasn’t anywhere near how you wanted to be dancing, nor who you wanted to be dancing with. Thinking that one more drink wouldn’t hurt, you stood at the bar, waiting for the new bartender to make you your drink. You had been hoping for the same smoke-show blonde to be behind the counter, but she had left, and someone else- who most definitely wasn’t her- was manning it now. 

“Don’t look so disappointed, Y/N.” a voice resonated through the music from behind you. 

“I can’t help it, I wanted something to do when I got home tonight…” you answered, the alcohol at this point not helping you to filter what probably should and should not be said at a work function you are throwing. You missed the look of disappointment on the face of the woman behind you. 

“Something, or someone?” they spoke over the music, right into the shell of your ear. Goosebumps erupted across your body at the breath fanning across the side of your face. 

“Someone,” you answer, turning around to face the frame behind you, putting yourself ungodly close to Natasha’s now shimmering body, an expression of amusement on your face. If there was one thing people (who stuck around) always seemed to be annoyed with, it was your gross ability to be extremely confident- borderline cocky, and acerbic the more you drank. You usually pissed more people off than you charmed as the night went on. But all that usually mattered was that someone was going to lay in your bed that night. And they would get railed senseless. 

Your wandering gaze wasn’t missed by the redhead, but she was still slightly caught off guard by your remark, thinking you wanted the bartender to be your companion home. Natasha had been playing the long game- she had been pining after you since she saw you speak at a college seminar, you are the reason Natasha got into law. When you accepted her application as an intern junior associate, she thought she might explode. You had her working on a team with Jenn as her mentor. While she was disappointed she wasn’t on your team- she soon found out you didn’t have one. You worked alone. She has been working to gain your attention ever since, a small glimmer of her hoping you would once- just once- make an exception. She saw the “tough guy” charade, the playgirl demeanor, and frankly saw right through you. You had no idea, but Natasha could read you like a book.

“Don’t be such an ass, Y/L/N.” You scoff at the remark, putting your arms up. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… Romanoff… do I sense some jealousy? Or did you have her on your to-do list as well?”

“Oh, please, Y/N. I am most certainly not jealous. And no, the blonde bimbo was not on my to-do list. Unlike some people I know, I don’t make it a sport to pass through every floozie in the 5 boroughs.”

“I don’t make it a sport, Romanoff. It just comes naturally. Besides… no one can handle me on the regular anyways.” You turn your back to the redhead, the bartender sliding you your drink. The booze didn’t stand a chance, you downed it in one gulp, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth, cleaning the corners of your lips with your thumb. You pretended not to notice the slight tint to the woman’s cheeks, and the small glimmer in her eyes as they darkened slightly at your actions. “Now, Romanoff. You can either join me for the after-party down the street, or you can shut the fuck up about my lifestyle.” You spoke into the woman’s ear as you stood more upright, having to bend over slightly to reach her pierced ear. “Maybe now, you can learn from the master…” you quip, digging at her antics of going toe to toe with your sexual prowess. 

“Please, Y/L/N. If anyone is going to be learning anything, it isn’t me.” She snarked back, playing right into your hand. You pretended not to see her body shiver slightly as you spoke in her ear, but you knew you finally had her where you wanted her. 

“Let’s go, Romanoff.” You grabbed the woman by her arm, leading her out a side door, where no one from the office could see. The brisk air was a shock to both of you, as you both let out a slight gasp at the chill in the mid-December air. You continued to walk, leading the woman to one of the few nightclubs you would allow yourself to frequent. Luckily, it was a short walk from STK, so you noticed the strobing and pulsating lights, and then you began to hear the dull thrum of the music from inside. It was bound to be packed- this was a Friday night, after all. You approached the bouncer, grabbed Natasha’s hand and he let you in front of all the people in line, recognizing you instantly. 

“Come here often, I take it?” She asks as you get inside, dropping her hand to thread your arm around her waist, leading her to the bar. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” You smile, flagging down one of the usual bartenders. He recognized you instantly and began to make you your usual drink. “What do you want, Romanoff?” You ask, placing your mouth right next to the redhead’s ear so she can hear the question over the music. 

“Triple vodka and soda water, please.” She answers, watching you lean over the bar and give the barkeep your order. He smiled, nodded, and went to make her drink, going heavy on the pours. 

“I know you like your vodka, Romanoff. You fucking Russians, I swear you drink that shit like it’s fucking water.” You cringed at the thought, handing her the glass that was mostly alcohol. 

“Yeah, well there’s other things us fucking Russians like to do too. And please, call me Nat. You don’t need to use my last name like we’re in the fucking military.” She says as you sit at your usual table upstairs, in the corner, away from the dance floor. “You even have your table here? Who’d you pay off for that treatment?”

“No one. I’m always here, made friends with the owner. Now he treats me like a daughter.” You reply, taking a large swig of your drink, and unbuttoning a few of the buttons on your shirt, so you only have 3 buttons holding your shirt over your stomach. Natasha pretended not to watch as you unbuttoned them with one hand, as you watched the crowd, but you caught her stare. “See something you like, Nat?”

“Huh? Oh... no. Hell no. Just thinking.” She responded, quickly turning her head away, and taking a large drink of her poison before looking at the floor below. “Wanna dance? Christmas music is hard to get a rhythm to…” she asked, looking your way. 

“No, I'm good. I’ll watch from up here, and see if someone catches my eye.” You wink, taking another sip of your drink as she nods and goes back downstairs, worming her way through the sea of bodies. She found a spot that you could just barely see, and you kept your eyes trained on her as it wasn’t long before she had a few guys come up to her. 

You could see her turn them away, their dejected expressions showing that she didn’t let them down easily. But then, you recognized the woman approaching her as the bartender from the restaurant, and Natasha glanced at you before nodding as they started to dance. It started innocently enough, but as the songs faded from one to another, and the closer their bodies got. Soon, the redhead had her hands wrapped around the waist of the blonde, the blade’s arms around Nat’s neck. You could feel the bile rising in your throat, as not only the woman you wanted was too close to a woman you were trying to take home in her place. It was a sick, sick, game. Natasha would occasionally glance at you, ensuring that she was getting the rise she wanted out of you. She knew that this could very well be the tipping point- and may get her what she wanted most.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You watched as the two seemed to get more affectionate as the night went on, and before you knew it, your body was involuntarily moving back to the bar, where you ordered a few shots, downing them back to back to back, before making your way onto the floor and finding someone that was dancing alone. You were sure to keep your gaze on or around Natasha, trying to monitor her every move. She was clenching her jaw at the brunette now “dancing” by you, but the poor thing was so drunk you could barely call her dancing a seizure. It looked embarrassing she was like a fish out of water, just flopping herself all over you and anyone who bothered to come near her. But Natasha still didn’t like it. 

You moved around, going from woman to woman, dancing, and grinding, but never letting your envious gaze leave the woman you wanted the most. She was the same, now moving around from woman to woman, but her eyes always seemed to linger on yours. Finally, you felt like you had been goaded enough. You waited just long enough for her to push away from someone else, and as her back turned, you slid up behind her, slipping your hands around her waist, moving with the new song that was pulsating over the speakers. 

“Having fun, are we?” You asked, pressing the woman’s back to your front, earning a slight gasp. 

“I am, thank you.” She smirked, and god- that sideways smile could honestly bring you to your knees. “I thought you didn’t want to dance?”

“I couldn’t help it, my song came on.” She laughed, her head leaning backward to your shoulder. 

“Please, Y/N. You saw me dancing with your conquest from earlier. You got jealous.” She turned around in your arms, slotting one leg in between yours, as you pulled her hips up to yours. You continued to move to the beat of the music, keeping as little airspace as possible between your bodies. You swore you could honestly light a fire with the amount of heat being generated between you two at the moment. 

“You see, Natasha, that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Oh? And how would that be wrong? You were pining after her all night back at the restaurant.” She quipped, but you saw the jealousy flash across her face.

“That was me settling, dorogoy.” you watched her eyes darken at the use of the Russian endearment. 

“Uhh, one…when did you learn to speak Russian and two… settling?” She asked.

“Ohh milaya, I can speak a few languages…” You whispered in her ear, causing a large eruption of goosebumps to erupt across her collarbone and shoulders. “…and yes, I was settling. There was someone else I wanted more at the party.”

“Blyat…” she whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear her.

“Ah, ah, ah…saying things like that won’t get you the answers you want.” You quipped, turning her back around, pressing her back to your front.

“Oh? And how do you know what I want? Are you like Santa Claus now?” She chuckled at the joke, gasping when your hand ran up her side, drifting over her exposed collarbone and settling loosely around her neck. Her eyes quickly clouded over and closed, her head leaning her head back so her mouth rested by your ear. 

“Detka, I sign your checks. I am kinda like Santa Claus.” She groaned as you pushed your hand up the column of her throat, pulling her lip from the prison in between her teeth and continuing up, grabbing onto her hair and gently pulling her back flush with you. “…But I can think of a few other things you can call me…” you whispered against the shell of her ear, pulling her hair down so her neck was strained and her eyes screwed shut. You ran your teeth and tongue up the side of her neck, coming to rest being her ear, by her throbbing pulse point.

“Fuck, Y/N…” she groaned as leaned back into you. As soon as you let her hair go, she snapped her head back, turning herself around in your arms, and grinding to the music down your now outstretched leg. She came back up, her forest green eyes dusted with lust, coming to a stop as your noses touched. “I don’t want to be a conquest for the night, detka.” She emphasized how you pronounced the very same word to her earlier. 

“Well, how cocky of you, did you think that is what I wanted? You think of all the people in that office, and around this city I have slept with, that you could change how I go about my personal life?” You backed away ever so slightly, the redhead was slightly stabling, so you caught her by her ribcage, pushing her backward away from you. 

“Please, Y/N. I see how you gawk, I know you’ve run through almost every person in that office like a wildfire, and you-YOU-don’t have any desire to put your hands all over this?” She spun, dropped low, and stuck her ass straight back into your groin. She gasped as she felt the “little surprise” you had been wearing all night. She stood up, backing her ass back up into you, rubbing all over your strap, causing you to groan as you watched. “How about you give me a little extra ‘Christmas Bonus’, hmm?” She continued to wiggle against you, the concealed toy hitting the right spot to cause you to let out a throaty moan. “C’mon, detka, I want to hear you, I want to see you fuck me… with this…” she emphasized as she palmed the toy, peeking over her shoulder at you. You pushed her shoulders down, causing her to bend at the perfect angle, and come up slowly against you, and just as she reached the perfect position, you thrust your hips forward driving the toy into her ever so slightly. 

“You’re coming with me.” You responded as you grabbed her waist, leading her off the dance floor, back to your table to collect your belongings, as you called your driver to meet you out front. She flung back another drink as you were walking down to the lower lever, sliding the glass across the bartop and linking her hand in yours. You stood behind her as the chauffeur arrived in front of the club, and as you opened the door, leaning towards Natasha’s ear, you whispered, “Let me show you how much I want this to not be a one-night stand, detka.” You’re lips ghosted the shell of her ear, and you slid your hand down, grabbing her ass and pushing her into the car as she turns around with an astounded face. She sat there, staring, as she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the words you just said. You sat there with your legs spread, a cocky smirk adorning your features, watching her come to terms with what you had just said. 

“You…wha…what???” She questioned, all confidence seeming to be gone at this point, the power in your hands. 

“Oh, come on, baby girl… daddy didn’t stutter… you heard me correctly.” You snarked, leaning back and stretching your arms over the back of the seat, loosening your tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of your shirt. You didn’t miss how she reacted, her legs squeezing together as she screwed her eyes shut, groaning at your demeanor. You leaned forward, looking at her closed eyes, pulling her chin towards you, in between your thumb and forefinger. “Don’t leave me waiting, doll. Repeat what I said.” You smirked as her eyes flew open, and she took in your proximity, your thumb running over her prominent cheekbones. She leaned into your touch, as you opened your hand and slid your palm alongside her face, grabbing onto the back of her head to get her attention. “What…did…daddy…say?” You punctuated each word, inching her face closer with every pause. 

“That… that I’m coming with you?” She asked, your lips curling into a sinister smile as she tried to remember the rest of your statement. “…and…and that you want to show me this won’t be a one-night stand?” She whispered the last part, like she was afraid you would deny the statement, and kick her to the street after riling her up to the point that she was sure her arousal could be seen through her new work pants. Your grip loosened as she mentioned the last part, a whimper leaving her slightly parted lips as you leaned forward, trapping her against the bench seat in the SUV across from you. 

“Good girl, milaya.” You whispered against her lips, her eyes screwing shut as to pressed your lips to hers in a chaste, fiery kiss. You knew you were pulling into your parking garage, so there wasn’t time to get her properly edged. She moaned as you traced the inside of her mouth with your tongue, trying to memorize everything you could before your driver opened the door. You pulled away all too quickly, right as the door opened, and she almost fell forward in the direction of the kiss. “Whoa, be careful detka…there’s no rush. We have all night.” You respond as she moans, you catching her falling frame as you slip out of the SUV, holding out your hand as she stumbles towards you, almost falling out of the back. You laugh, wrapping your arms around her slim waist and lifting her down to the ground, setting her down carefully. 

You reach your hand out behind you, leading her towards the elevator that would carry you up the 129 floors to your penthouse. The moment you backed into the elevator, she pressed herself onto your leaning frame, grabbing hold of the tie around your neck and pulling you in for another scorching kiss- a kiss that would make Eros and Himeros blush. A clashing of tongue, teeth, and winded breath as you both clawed at each other, fighting for dominance in the kiss, you eventually winning by gripping her hips so tightly she would surely have bruises in the morning, spinning her around and slamming her into the opulent wall of the elevator. The moan that left her mouth was filthy and sinful, and you couldn't wait to make her groan like that all night long. You pulled her head to the side and kissed your way up and down her neck before the door dinged open, and you backed away, smirking at her glassed-over expression as you led her into the penthouse. She glanced around at the space, smiling at the token Christmas tree tucked in the corner, half decorated as the only evidence of the season she could seek out. You began to further unbutton your shirt, standing there as she took in her surroundings, and when she turned around, she saw your dress shirt completely unbuttoned, the tattoos adorning your ribcage now ever present, the tie barely hung around your neck, and your jacket flung over your shoulder. 

“You just gonna stand there and admire? Or are you gonna put Daddy to use?” You respond, biting your lip slightly, as she stalks over to you like she is hunting prey. She grabs a hold of your shirt, pulling you into her and running her nimble fingers over your bare chest. 

“No bra tonight, darling?” She asked, her eyes darkening as she slowly began inching her hands all over your frame, sweeping her thumb underneath your breasts, tracing the tattoo that resides in between. “Fuck, detkaaaa…” she drew out the endearment in her mother tongue, running her nose up your neck and behind your ear. You wrapped your muscular arm around her waist, scooching it down to beneath her thighs. 

“Up, babe…” you tap her thigh with your other hand, signaling for her to jump into your arms, you looping your forearm under her ass as she wrapped herself around your front like a koala. She began to rock her hips slightly, trying to gain friction against the member you still had in your pants, but you pulled her up higher so she couldn’t reach it. “Ah ah, behave…” you whispered into her ear, feeling the goosebumps erupt across the span of her back and thighs. “You don’t want to be a bad girl on your first night, do you? You don’t want to disappoint me, malyshka…” you kicked open the door to the bedroom as she nestled herself into your neck, you threw the blazer off your shoulder and onto the chair by the door. The whining and squirming mess attached to your frame like a leach squealed as you threw her onto your massive bed in the center of the room. Her red hair fanned out perfectly as she pulled out her ponytail holder, and her legs crossed as she bit into her lip so hard the skin turned white. “Ooooh, baby… be nice to those perfect lips… don’t bite so hard…” you tutted as you reached out, dragging your thumb across her lower lip, pulling it from the grasp between her pearly white teeth and red lipstick. You began to remove the dress shirt from your frame, tossing it in the same direction as the chair that now has your jacket on it. You began to loosen the tie, yelping as she pulled you forward so her lips rested on your ear. 

“Leave the tie, detka…” she pulled back, looking into your eyes as you groaned at her response. 

“Lie back for me, Natasha…” you leaned back, unbuckling the belt on your waist, whipping it out of your belt loops, and throwing it to the side, before unbuttoning your pants. You kneeled with your knee slotted in between her legs, leaning over her frame with both your arms flanking her side. “Tell me, me… malysh… how would you like this to go? Do you want Daddy to take it easy?” You trailed your finger upland down her clothed chest, biting your lip when you also felt, no bra. With one hand, you began to unbutton her shirt, slowly, painstakingly slow, as you continued to trail your finger up and down the now bare, creamy skin. Leaning over, your trailed kisses up the center of her sternum, nipping at her collarbones as open-mouthed kisses trailed over the expanse of her pale chest and neck. You leaned back as you finally reached the bottom of her shirt, she sat up and quickly tossed the offending article to the side. 

“Please… please Y/N…” she moaned as you returned to nipping and kissing, soothing and licking spots all over her chest. She began bucking her hips slightly, trying to gain friction where her core was aching most. 

“Aw,  ‘please…please Y/N’ “ you mocked as you pulled back, shoving her back down to the bed and taking in her disheveled state. She was squirming, squeezing her legs together as you grabbed a from the hold of her ankles, making the auburn-haired woman moan as you ripped them apart, and groaned at the visible wet patch forming on the dress pants she was wearing. “Ohh, detka… you’re drenched… all for me? It looks like I owe you a new pair of pants…” you snarled in their face, causing her eyes to roll back as your finger swiped up the folds outside of her pants. You groaned as the fabric now clung to the form below, seeing the detail of her pussy coming through the drenched, white fabric. You leaned over, swiping your nose through her crotch as you leaned over her, watching as her frame squirmed beneath you, her eyes screwed shut. 

“Please…please Y/N… take them off…’m so uncomfortable…” she trailed off, squirming as her hands grasped at the sheets below. Ripping her legs apart again, your deft fingers unbuttoned her pants, before slowly gliding down the soft fabric, teasing her inner thighs, before getting down to her ankles, and ripping the fabric from her frame. She gasped at the sudden cold- her back arching as you slid your arm under the small of her back, lifting her frame with ease and tossing her deeper onto the mattress, before stalking over her now bare frame. You leaned back onto your heels, admiring the now easily apparent bruises adorning her collarbone, the scratches running down her chest to her belly, and the flushed expression with her mouth agape as she wriggled beneath you. You looked down to see her sopping, puffy cunt dripping onto the fabric below, her legs shaking to rub together, but your frame in between kept that from happening. 

You leaned up to her ear, purposely driving your thigh into her dripping sex, nipping at the shell of her ear- earning an almost pornographic moan from the woman. 

“You have no idea, krasivaya, how long I have been thinking about this… How long I have wanted to see you, feel you, hear you, taste you.” A devilish smirk laced your features. “Now, detka- make yourself useful…ruin daddy’s pants, doll.” You nipped at her pierced ear, jingling the pricing with your tongue, and feeling the woman’s back arch against you as her eyes rolled back. 

“Fuuuuuuuuck…. Y/N…” she moaned, her hips picking up their pace as you stilled them beneath you. 

“Ah, ah… what’s my name, darling?” You pinched her hip bones, before pushing your hands up her frame and resting them on her pebbled nubs, lightly running your fingers over them, teasing her with the ghost of your touch. 

“Hnnnng…..daaaa…..daaaaddy…” she moaned as she scratched her nails down your chest. 

“There you go…there’s my girl…” you respond, grabbing hold of her hips and beginning to run her folds up and down the covered musculature of your thigh. You randomly would flex your leg, allowing for a variation in her pleasure. You groaned as you watched the slick patch develop on your thigh saturating the fabric on your legs, groaning as the folds of her pussy would part and slide up and down, her hips driving up as she tried to gain friction on her aching clit. “Good girl…” you moaned as you watched her thrusts become firmer and sloppier, signaling she was reaching her peak. Shut as you felt her legs begin to tremble, and her entrance began clamping around nothing, you pulled her away from your leg. She let out a pained groan, her climax beginning to fade away as a dull sheen of sweat became present on her body. 

“Ah, ah… babygirl- terpeniye (patience)…You want to cum on Daddy’s strap, yeah?” You shushed her moans, pushing your finger into her swollen lips. She opened her watery, dark green orbs, a doe-eyed, lusty expression taking over her features. She nodded furiously as he bit her lip again, you tutting and leaning down, freeing her lip and capturing them with your own. The kiss started slow, passionate, as all the pent-up emotions of years of watching her prance around your office, her professional cockiness irritating to most, but it made your heart swell like the Grinch to think that she wanted that kind of power, and authority and rapport within the community- next to you. Everyone always tried to use you, sleep with you, to get the next position- no one ever outright said they wanted to work beside you. 

“Push…puhlease…daddy… I need you… I’ve been dreaming… of this… for so…so long…” she moaned and squirmed, pawing at your breasts, pulling the hair on the nape of your neck, and the bulge that is yet to be uncovered from your pants. Your eyes rolled back at her admission, a brief sigh leaving your lips as you leaned back, looking down at the sopping wet patch of her arousal adorning your right thigh. You slowly pushed the pants down, as she pulled at one nipple with her hand, the other hovering over her drenched core. She moaned as you let the fabric catch onto the start adorning your hips, causing it to rebound and smack you in the lower stomach. You leaned your frame forward, placing your arms on the side of her torso, and allowing yourself to drag your hips up, the toy running through her sopping folds. “aaaAAhhhH!” She arched into you, letting out a glass-shattering moan. 

“Good, good girl. Let Daddy hear you. I’ve waited so long…we’ve waited so long…” you moaned into her mouth rocking your hips back and forth slowly, allowing the silicone hung from your groin to lubricate against her. She clawed at your back, as you held yourself over her, watching her mewl and wiggle beneath you. “Ohhhhhh, Natasha…” you moaned at the sight of her beneath you. “You drive daddy wild, baby. This body, your moans, how wet you are for me, tell me, baby girl… my malyshka… who makes you wet like this? Hmm? Who makes you moan and wiggle beneath them like a fool, like I DO?” 

You grazed your teeth over her nipple, you’re tongue swirling over the bud, before puckering your lips and blowing a cool stream of air onto the rock-hard pebble. She pushed her chest up to your face, arching her back so deep your nose rested between her bosoms. You began nipping and biting, licking the tight skin between her breasts pulling your arms out from underneath her frame, and grasping a boob into each hand, pushing them against your face. You continued to flick the nipples as you nipped and licked every inch of her pale, muscular chest. You pulled your face away, pushing her boobs further together, and grabbing onto them pulling yourself forward as you teased her entrance with the tip of your cock. She bit her lip, nodding and moaning a yes as the tip pressed into her saturated folds. You let go of one of her boobs, lining the tip up with her dripping hole. You began to slowly push in, creeping the dildo into her sex ever so slowly, watching as her cunt swallows the toy vein by vein. You were mesmerized by the sight of her pussy swallowing you whole and she quickly grew impatient with how slow you were spreading her open.

“Unnngh…. daddyyyyyyyyy… pleaseeeee… please fuck me!” She mewled beneath you, running her hands through her hair as she bit her lip. 

“Ohhh, baby. Because you asked so nice…” you grabbed hold of her hips and rammed your hips forward HARD. You bottomed out, nestling your groin against hers as she regained her breath, her hands pawing behind your head until they found purchase at the nape of your neck. “Do you feel better, baby? Nice and full of daddy’s cock, baby?” You mocked, as she wiggled and shook her head beneath you. You quickly shifted your grip up to her boobs, grabbing hold of them before rutting your hips into hers like an animal in heat. You continued to pound your hips against hers, the wet slapping of the toy and the harness meeting her soaked, puffy lips as your hips expertly found new angles, quickly finding the spongy spot inside her that made her see white. Her grip in your hair began to get tighter, as you continued to thrust the toys full length inside her. You moaned as you watched her stomach bulge with each thrust, moving one of her hands to rest on her stomach as you continued your relentless pace on her cunt.

“m s’close, da…daddy…” she mewled beneath you.

“You are, honey- Daddy can feel it. What do good girls do, baby doll?” You asked, pushing her hand into her stomach so she could feel the toy inside her. 

“Th…they…ask to…to cum, daddy?” She asked, her eyes rolling back into her head as you let go of her breasts, grasping her hips firmly and watching the buds bounce with each thrust of your hips. 

“Thaaaaats…my….good…girl…” you let out between thrusts. “Do you feel me deep inside you? You feel me up in your stomach, baby?” You asked as she moaned, nodding her head, her thighs slowly tightening around your hips. 

“S’deep, feels s’good…” she moaned as she wiggled beneath you. 

“What do good girls do, detka?” As the Russian endearment rolled off your tongue, her eyes rolled back and her back arched. 

“Ohhhhh, Daddy! Please!! Let me cum daddy!” She moaned as she came back down to the mattress. You kept a relentless pace, feeling sweat rolling down your chest and back. You edged her, pushing her further, and further, until she began whimpering painfully from holding back. You leaned up to her ear, licking the shell, before whispering.

“Konchi dlya menya, dorogaya. Otpusti menya.” (Cum for me, darling. Let go for me.) The shaking of her form beneath you told you all you needed to know… her legs wrapping around you tightly, pushing the toy as deep as it could go inside her. She pulled you down with her arms, kissing you passionately through her orgasm, as wave after wave crashed over her. 

“Chert voz'mi, detka.” (Damn it, baby.) She whispered, winded as she let you go, running her hands through your disheveled hair, looking up at you with her blissed-out eyes. You laughed, nestling your head into her neck, collapsing over her frame as you caught your breath.

“That good, huh?” You laughed, peering out the side of your eye to her staring at the ceiling.

“Oh, god… If I had known you could speak Russian sooner, this would have happened ages ago, detka.” She laughed as you lifted off her frame, shifting the toy that was still inside her up to her stomach. “oooOOhhh m’god, too much, too much…” She pushed you away, and you leaned back, resting your weight on your heels as you slowly pulled the toy out, groaning at the sight. 

“Fuckkkkk, darling…” you moan, swiping your thumb through her sensitive folds. You stepped back, removing the strap from your hips, and pulling her by her legs towards the edge of the bed. You kneeled on the floor, flattening your tongue and licking a fat stripe up her glistening sex, causing her legs to clamp shut at the sensitivity.

“dddDDDDaaaAAAddddyyyyy!” She screamed as she laced her hands through your hair, peering down through the valley of her breasts to watch you devour her sopping wet cunt. You continued to lap, nibble, lick, and plunge your tongue inside of her, as she quickly began tightening around your muscle. You wrapped an arm around her hips, bringing your thumb to meet her clit, rubbing furiously as you continue to lap at her entrance, devouring her cum and pushing her towards another explosion. Using your other hand, you spread her dripping lips to allow yourself deeper into her puffy sex. You nestled your face inside, wiggling around like you were going to shove the entirety of your face into her waiting core. “oh GOD you’re good at that!” She moaned, you laughed and sent vibrations pulling through her, causing her to arch, sitting almost fully and grabbing onto your face, rutting her hips shamelessly against your face. You groaned at the sight of her pulling you into her, thrusting herself without any regard like she would die without an orgasm. You reach your arms around her lower back, pulling her close as you continue to devour her whole. 

“Ddd…dddaaaaadddyyy, puhhhhlease…” she panted out, struggling to catch her breath as she chased her high on your face. You hummed against her, lifting away slightly to allow yourself the freedom to speak. 

“Go ahead, baby- cum on daddy’s face, doll.” You groan, before she unabashedly pushes your face back to her core, and you continue a ruthless pace with your tongue, wiggling and nestling your face into her sex. Her hips continued to rut into your face, stuttering as she came to her climax, her abbreviated motions jostling your face as you lapped at her folds, cleaning up the cum before she pushed you away. You smirked, climbing back up her body, her essence running down your face, dripping off your chin. She moaned at the sight, swiping her cum off your chin before sucking on her thumb, hollowing her cheeks as she cleaned it off. 

“I have waited, sooo, sooo long for that, Y/N.” She whispered as you neared her, nudging her nose with yours. 

“Hmmm, me too, Natasha.” You whispered back as you looked into her glassy eyes, kissing her deeply, her moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue. The kiss continued as you poured all the years of pent-up frustration into it, and you could tell- she was putting all her emotion into the kiss, running her hands all over your sweaty, sticky frame. “Merry Christmas, doll.” You whispered as you pulled away, a smirk adorning her strung-out face.

“What happened to the big bad Grinch? You were bah-humbug earlier…” she laughed as she pulled you close, your face nestling into her sweat-covered neck. 

“You happened, you’re all I’ve ever wanted, baby. I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Tash.” You muttered against her neck.

“You’re all I have ever wanted, malysh. Merry Christmas.” She whispered as she played with the hair on the back of your neck, gently lulling you almost to sleep. You moaned as you lifted yourself begrudgingly from her frame, stalking over to your bathroom, and grabbing a washcloth to clean Natasha up for the night. “Oh darling, if you think we’re done, we’re not. Nas yest' gody, chtoby naverstat' upushchennoye, detka.” (We’ve got years to make up for, baby.)

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

hi :) thanks for all your answers!

lingering question from a while back, but do you consider the players who made themselves available for selection after being part of las 15 to be scabs? the article that lucia garcia wrote sort of made it sound like that, and it's hard to read the situation differently.

it makes me respect Mapi and Patri so much, to stick to their guns even when everyone else went back.

I get all their careers have a lot on the line, but like.. collective bargaining only works if it's collective, right? Is there nuance i'm not seeing?

sigh...i have gone back and forth so many times throughout this entire saga. and in some ways, i'm still working out how to make sense and reconcile it all. it's complicated, and i think you have to factor in the prior history.

first, spain has the unique situation of having its draconian sports law in effect. according to this law, players who refuse a call-up risk sanctions and losing their license to play football.

second, there have been prior protests before that were unsuccessful and only helped to damage individual players. vero boquete essentially threw away her nt career because she decided to speak up after the 2015 world cup. that has to have been percolating in the back of some players' minds.

third, you are right. you can't have a successful revolution with partial participation. people kept comparing the uswnt lawsuit with las 15 and they are both completely different situations. however, what uswnt had going for them was unity. all the uswnt players signed on. that never happened with las 15 (there were only 15 of them!). and there was even pressure from liga f clubs to back out of any protest that prevented other spanish players from signing on. so it wasn't so easy to have every player in the spanish nt system just sign on. if there are so many divisions from the start, then there's no way that movement can be successful. (especially when you had players who went out of their to way to kiss vilda's/rfef ass, but that's a separate conversation!)

plus, there was so much media backlash and skewering of the players that made the divisions worse. rfef was talking to players individually and breaking down the lines of protest even further. it was a huge mess. and ultimately, some players felt that they could have better progress by working within the system. as alexia said in the oliva conclave, if they left, then they knew rfef would just call in the youth players who would have no voice or say in the matter. so no, i don't think they are scabs because there was no proper picket line in the first place. it was a fractured mess from day one.

and of course, i have the utmost respect for mapi, patri, and others who basically sacrificed a world cup to stand up for their ideals. that takes so much guts. but i also understand why others returned to the team to advocate for change from within because they saw how corrupt and messed up rfef was in quashing any dissent.

there is still so much left to go with improving conditions in spain, and some days it feels like spain never won the world cup because we never had the boom that england did after winning the euros. but vilda/rubiales would still be here had it not been for the spain winning the world cup. there never was that amount of world pressure and scrutiny and political will to actually get things improved. so that's something.

[mejaydee]

✨How I’d fix Magic the Gathering: March of the Machines Main Storyline✨

So to start, I’d like to be clear that I LOVED this story. I was absolutely giddy reading it throughout, but because of that it’s been on my mind, and so I want to share my only two big problems with it and how I’d address them (SPOILERS AHEAD BTW in case that wasn’t obvious)

1: The use of Chandra

Chandra didn’t do enough. And I’m not talking about after they got to Realmbreaker, I’m talking about everything before it.

What she did do, I loved. Her connecting to Wrenn was beautiful, and Wrenn as sort of a bridge between Nissa and Chandra as both tree and flame was great. Fantastic interactions all around.

But the only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing she thought about was Nissa. And it’s obvious why, but it led to her not being capable of anything other than thinking about Nissa. She’s either thinking about Nissa or thinking about not wanting to think about Nissa. When Koth or Urabrask mentions “the elf”, she gets agitated, but why? She was already on her mind, and it takes up a significant amount of time that could be filled with even minor battles.

<b>Solution:</b> her attempts at pushing Nissa out of her mind work (mostly). She’ll still feel constantly anxious, uncomfortable, unsettled, but she’ll lie to herself. Justify it by saying “of course I’m anxious, I’m fighting the Phyrexians.” So when the Resistance mentions the elf, it <i>really</i> discomforts her.

And in that big moment, where Nissa shows up directly in front of her as depicted in “Traumatic Revelation”, it’ll be both much more traumatic and much more of a revelation. The truth can’t be ignored anymore, can’t be pushed aside. It’s standing right in front of her now, and it’s even more justification that she wasn’t prepared for it, and why she completely froze. She <i>knew</i> she wouldn’t have to see Nissa like this. Because she fooled herself.

Thematically, as “Hope’s Beacon”, giving her more time up front to be a powerhouse clearing out small fry would let us get a feeling of that hope. The Mirrans see a burning sun clearing the way with ease, and think that with her, maybe they really can do this.

And when it’s revealed that Norn was prepared, that it was all a trap, that Nissa was there, and their shining beacon dims and quivers, they’ll all feel the dread that they had hidden until that moment.

As it is, Chandra is a lady that showed up proud and feisty, barely does anything, and then gets completely handled by Nissa.

2: The Ending

I think it’s pretty obviously annoying that out of the seven compleated planeswalkers, only one of them had a really confirmed and “satisfying” death, and it was in a side story, and it was Lukka, and let’s be honest, who gives a shit about Lukka.

We thought they may have learned their lesson after the backlash of War of the Spark, where again, after all the hype, not much changed, and nobody was satisfied. Emotional stakes are important to engaging storytelling, and repeatedly subverting them will do nothing but teach us all not to care any more. Especially in this case, since it <i>seemed</i> pretty obvious that phyresis and compleation were irreversible, only for that to have been retroactively taken away. All that time you spent thinking, “who will it be next? Will my favorite characters be taken?” is now null. It wouldn’t have mattered if they were or had been. It would have been undone in a couple paragraphs at the end anyway.

<b>Solution:</b> let ‘em die (or at least most of them). Some of them can be easily fixed without even retconning.

Lukka: again, he’s the one that did really bite it (or got bitten, technically). Good.

Tamiyo: her real body was killed, but she had left behind a “story” of herself, basically a hologram clone. Not bad to be honest, if it is <i>temporary</i>. If it allows Nashi to get his closure, then it’s great. Let it be a small program, and let it fade away to memory as all stories do. The current ending of her and Nashi coming home implies that she’s just gonna still be there? But she has all her memories and such? So basically it’s the equivalent of just losing her spark. Let her die.

But also side note, Nashi should have ignited his spark in grief, but that’s my own wishes coming through. Just doesn’t make sense to me that in a multiversal flesh abomination invasion only ONE character ignited their spark.

Nahiri: SEEMS like she died, but NO BODY NO PROOF and I don’t trust Wizards to stick to it if they feel like dredging up old characters in a couple years. Unless the aftermath shows her limp body crushed under the Skyclave, I’m not satisfied. Let her die.

Jace and Vraska: I loved the story they had within Vraska’s little mind bubble, even if a lot of it when they were together was just a makeout sesh. That’s straight up good actually, and I like it a lot. That should have been it. Let their real bodies be fought and defeated, and killed. Let their minds live in what feels like an eternity together, and let their true selves be happy as their false forms are destroyed. Let them live their dreams together, and let them die together.

Ajani: let him die. The realest stakes we had in this story was Ajani. His being a sleeper agent was the hit that hurt the most, especially to himself. His “death” was tragic, and was what more than anything fueled Elspeth in this final journey. He was the connection between all of them, and his death would truly mean something. If it wasn’t miraculously reversed. Let him die.

Finally, Nissa: let her live? I’m actually okay with them curing ONE (1) of them. It lets them explore what it would be like for someone to live after what had happened to them, and if any, it should be Nissa. Obviously, as the pure elf with nature powers, being an unnatural being that still has synthetic parts would be a great contrast for her to live with. Also, WotC finally grew the balls to have queer characters in the story explicitly, and having the infamous “I like big manly men” fiasco only be followed by the death of her real love interest before it was canonized would be infuriating.

It didn’t really make sense to me why Karn and Melissa were able to revive both of them anyway. A spark for a spark, a life for a life. How’d they stretch two out of that deal?

Thanks for TEDing to my come talk.

[twilightguardian]

Why do you keep posting stuff about Lilith? She blocked you meaning she doesn't want you interacting with her nor her content, yet you still go to her posts with an alt account or something and post about that

Maybe just not? If you have an issue with the stuff she says about Celtic you can call those out alone without writing threads trying to debunk her criticism

Even if you think what she's doing is wrong you're still in the wrong too for stalking her

I just had a tab on her blog open from before she blocked me. Even if you've blocked someone those tabs still work, and it takes nothing to view someone's blog while logged off. Even then, other people post what she says and I can view them even without directly going to that tab I have open. Having a tab open on her also isn't anything special, because I have hundreds of them.

Lilith didn't block me for any legitimate reasons other than she doesn't like hearing criticism or the idea that she could be wrong. She blocked me because she didn't like the fact that I explained that her dialogue in Glints Saga was clunky. I knew she had a writing group she went to at the time, having reasonable fears about her writing, and she said no one in the writing group saw any faults with her work. So I suggested she get a better writing group and pointed out something I happened to see while scrolling through her work.

She replied to me once, and when I replied back, she blocked me, then started talking about me in the way she currently does now. Her blocking me has nothing to do with not wanting to be "stalked" or to face backlash. She wants to play victim and then keep being an asshole herself.

Like I said multiple times in my responses to her work: I have no doubt that she doesn't give a genuine shit about what I have to say unless it fits her narrative that I'm a bad person. She cherry-picks hyperbolic language and calls me a stalker and a bully myself and whatever.

But I was polite and cordial to her when she blocked me, so that literally does not matter. She does this on purpose. Just like she complains about Fixing RWBY by lying about it.

The reason why her criticisms of Fixing RWBY aren't valid and are more akin to bullying is because she actively accuses Raymond and his team of heinous shit. That's something that I won't tolerate because there is no reason to suggest someone is racist, sexist or homophobic or claim them to be an alt-righter for their fanfic.

There is no reason for her to twist her language and lie about Fixing RWBY, to focus so much on the male characters herself, ignoring what the project does with the main cast while only talking about the male characters. She does what she claims Raymond does: Ignores the female cast and focuses all her attention on the male cast. And when there's evidence to the contrary, she ignores it or finds an excuse to make her criticism still valid: Like the disgusting way she talks about Neo.

I address Lilith's points directly because she is actively being malicious to my friends. I don't care if I am not the most polite to her, if I say something slightly insensitive her way. It does not matter. She'll find a way to make herself a victim. Because that's what manipulative bullies do.

There is plenty out there to criticize about Fixing RWBY. Some people have come to me with those valid criticisms. Just because I ultimately don't agree with them doesn't mean they aren't valid. I've even pointed out the one time I thought she had a point. Of course that gets ignored. Because she doesn't care, and the valid point was probably accidental in her attempt to say the nastiest shit she could think of about the project.

I want to point out this specifically in that you're saying "if you want to talk about the things she says, don't talk about the things she says".

Maybe you meant to word that differently, but it's a pretty stupid statement. By definition, if I want to call her out, then I have to debunk her. I've already called her out along with the rest of the shitty ass fandom in my initial long post, where I give evidence to why I think Lilith is dishonest and a bully, and how she is just a nasty piece of work and how that colours her perception of Fixing RWBY and Raymond.

By the way, she obviously goes onto my blog too, despite having blocked me, so this is a game to her.

[happilychaengs]

Sana - The Scent of You

first post that's not a repost!

though i wrote it kind of late so i didn't proofread

"Seriously? Again?" You mumbled under your breath as you saw Sana peer through the door.

Of course she has to be sneaky about it. Why wouldn't she? Its not like it's driving a stake through your heart every time. You felt like just her dirty little secret that she hides away. Under wraps, you were hers. All hers. But outside of that, you were a nobody. She doesn't speak to you, not even a glance towards your direction and yet she decides she can waltz right in as if nothing's happened.

You've had enough.

It broke your heart when you saw that smile on her face as she looked at you but you steeled yourself. She quickly shut the door behind her and smiled when she could smell your perfume wafting through the air. It was subtle yet sweet, enough to ease her worries. She walked towards you with open arms, expecting your warm embrace but you weren't having it. Not now.

"Is my happiness a joke to you?"

Her eyes widened from your tone. "What do you mean by that? What's wrong?"

"Are you serious? What's wrong?" You mocked, "You haven't even realized it yet? I'm tired of this. Tired of us."

"What? Why? Everything's been going great."

"Yes, for you! What about me? You only come here when it's convenient for you. One day you make me feel like the world and the next you treat me like I'm nothing!"

"We've talked about this!" She groaned, "You know how my job is! I can't let people know about us!"

You scoffed, "So what? It's been two years Sana! Two years! Two years of dealing with your excuses! Two years of watching everyone else be happy with their girlfriend!

"I'm thinking about you! Do you have any idea the amount of backlash we'll get? Especially you!"

"Do you seriously think I've never thought about it? I've been ready the moment we got together but this isn't about me! This is about you!"

"..." She tried saying something but nothing came out of her mouth. She stood silent. You were right. Deep down, she was scared. She was scared of what it would mean if she revealed you to the world. What it would mean for her career.

Obviously you weren't getting an answer from her, so you took matters into your own hands. If she didn't have the guts to say anything, you would.

"This isn't working anymore, Sana. For neither of us." you went to pick up your phone and your keys, "I'm leaving."

She grabbed your arm, "What? Why? We can fix this!" Her voice getting more desperate as she finally realized the repercussions of her actions.

"No. We can't. Let me go Sana."

"Please Y/N... I'll do anything."

"Then can we go on a date publicly? Can we watch a movie together? Can we do anything at all?"

"..." She went quiet again.

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head. "It'll never work for us Sana." You shook her grip off your arm as you started walking to the door.

"Wai-" she almost bit her tongue. She wanted to tell you stop, to talk about it more, to calm down, and to fix it together but she knew she would be wrong to. She hasn't been treating you like you deserved, for a long time now. You could do better. She needed to let you go even if it meant hurting herself in the process. Even if it was more than she could take. It was the right thing to do.

She fell to her knees as she watched you finally close the door without even looking back, forever taking pieces of her shattered heart with you. The scent of you already fading as tears cascaded down her face.

Even through it all, her mind was wandering. She tried to put her finger on what kind of perfume you used before sobbing harder. Right. She gave you that.

[proserpina-magnus]

Yay your requests are open! 😄 Could you pleeeease write a Dom poly!marauders (no Peter) x sub!reader, where it’s a new-ish relationship between the 4 and the reader breaks her first rule, leading to her first punishment and they can all see she’s nervous so they are soft!doms during (you can decide the rule she breaks and the punishment🙊) and the aftercare they give her 🥺

Yes absolutely, it’s kinda rough and I didn’t realize how lengthy it was! This is actually not that good and the aftercare could be better but I hope you like it!

First Punishment’s (R.L, J.P, S.B)

Reader: fem (she/her)

Word count: 2.6

Warning: swearing, rule breaking, spanking, bratty reader (sorta), d/s (sorta heavy?) Remus is the main dom, safe words are definitely in place, lots of aftercare and praises, reader becomes a cry baby super fast, soft doms, Sirius actually doesn’t show up that much and that sucks :(

p.s: my bad spelling also plays a role in this!

There were only a few solid rules the Marauders had set for you, no back talk, no touching yourself sexually without permission, and always thank them when they give you something. They had a few smaller rules specifically for themselves, such a James saying you can’t cuss while Sirius allows it. Remus has to approve your outfit before going out to hogsmeade. Sirius, surprisingly, doesn’t have many rules other than the main ones.

It must have been a bad day or you just felt bratty, because you had been tempting their rules all day. You had gone out to hogsmeade with your dorm mates, not checking with Remus about your outfit. When you returned, a bag full of honey duke treats, you got stopped by Remus in the hallway. He shoo’d your dormmates away, an eyebrow raised with his hands crossed over his chest.

You shrunk slightly, fiddling with the edge of your rather small skirt that Sirius had gifted to you just days ago.

“Bun, did you forget to do something?” He asked and you nodded. Yet you and Remus both knew you had done it on purpose.

“What did you forget?”

“To check with you,” you mumbled, distracting yourself with flattening the fabric of James jumper you had stolen.

“To check with me about what?”

“M’outfit,” you whispered and you caught Remus's stern look and spoke up. “M’outfit sir,”

“mmh,” was all he said, giving you an opportunity to apologize to him properly. You dug through your bag, taking out a chocolate bar you had gotten him.

“But I went to get you guys sweets!” You excused yourself, pushing the chocolate in Remus's hand. Remus shook his head, taking the chocolate. “Alright, I’ll let you off this time. But no matter what your excuse is, it doesn't mean you can go around flaunting your ass to Hogsmeade, understand?”

“I’m not flaunting my ass!” You exhaled quickly, pushing down your skirt as you began to get offended. Remus raised his eyebrow, “I’m sorry?” And you grew quiet. Real quiet.

“Hey lovely,” you heard James call from behind you, you had turned around to see him race down the hall and swing an arm around your waist, a big smile on his face.

“What’s the issue?” James got the tension and Remus motioned for you to explain yourself.

“Went to hogsmeade without checking my outfit with Remus,” you whispered rudely, James raised an eyebrow as he didn’t quite catch it.

“Hm? Speak up poppet,” he said, and you sighed and said it again louder this time.

“Oh let her off this one time Remus, she must have forgotten,” James defended you, rubbing your back so you knew he was on your side.

“I was,” Remus started, irking slightly as he recalled how you talked back. “But instead she told me off for my offer,”

James grew confused, looking down at you. “Love, that’s not true is it?” He asked, pinching your cheek and you pushed his hand away. You thought he was on your side.

“Remus said I was flaunting my ass! I wasn’t! And even if I was, what's the problem with that? I’ll flaunt my ass whenever I want!” You huffed, another small rule broke at your words. Remus rolled his tongue over his teeth, James folding his arms over his chest. Oh dear lord, you were in for it now if you kept going.

“This isn’t far, it’s 2 against one,” you pointed out as you now realized James wasn’t on your side. You copied them, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It wouldn’t have been 2 against one if you didn’t break a rule,” Remus reminded you, you grew frustrated.

“Well I don’t like your stupid rules,” you stated, now you began to get worried. Why did you keep talking, it wasn’t too late for you to apologize and say you were sorry.

“Up to our dorm,” James said roughly and grasped your elbow, you shook him off and stepped back. “No I don’t wanna,” you said and they both let out a laugh.

“Come on, we’re not asking again,” Remus said, you felt your nerves jitter. You’ve never been punished before and the worry began to build quickly.

“No,” you said, shaking your head as you took another step back. Your back hit a person and you cursed yourself. Without turning around, you knew it was Sirius. But hopefully, you prayed he was on your side. Sirius must have read your thoughts, because he quickly said a “they’re right bun, you know if you break a rule you get punished,”

You frowned, huffing out as you realized there wasn’t a chance to escape now. “Fine,” you muttered, pulling away from Sirius as you began to walk down the hall to the portrait. They followed behind, Remus shaking his head.

You stopped at the portrait, arms still crossed over your chest as they said the password and led you upstairs to their dorm. With the thud of the door being closed, you felt the need for a meltdown.

They hadn't discussed what kind of punishment went with each rule, they hadn’t thought they wouldn't need to punish their good girl. James had insisted you would never break a rule, but apparently he was wrong.

They picked up that you were worried, but they couldn’t just let it slide, you’d think that breaking rules was okay and that you could get away with it.

You walked over and set your bag down on James' dresser, sitting down on his bed, hands still folded over your chest.

“Okay, cool off,” James said and walked over to you. “I want you to know we aren’t punishing you while mad, that’s not how this is going to work,” he stated, and Remus nodded.

“We honestly hadn’t planned out a punishment, we thought you would be good,” Sirius said, that hurt. “I am good!” You replied, upset at the fact they didn’t think you were good.

“Hey, you’re not on thin ice anymore missy, I’d watch what you say if I were you,” Remus snapped and you went quiet with a frown.

“We know you’re a good girl,” James soothed over, giving a glare to Sirius. “That’s not what he meant,”

You began to open your mouth for a snappy comment, maybe even going as far as to call James dumb, but you closed your mouth and stayed silent. “Okay,” you nodded, “I understand,”

“You know why we have to punish you?” Sirius asked, and you nodded. “Say it, we want to know that you know what you did was wrong,”

“I broke a rule, well two rules,”

“Two rules?” Sirius questioned, he had missed the start of the backlash. “She went out to Hogsmeade without my permission for her outfit,” Remus cleared up.

“technically she actually broke three,” James said, your eyes opened as you looked over at him. How could he? You felt the need to cry, they seemed really upset. Who knew you would hate them being upset at you so much?

“Three?” You questioned in pure confusion.

“You cussed, you know I don’t like that,” James explained with a hand on your thigh, you nodded in defeat. “It’s alright, bun,” he kissed your cheek.

“James, don’t encourage that she can break your rules,” Remus advised and your shoulder slumped at the fact this wasn’t a time for you to get praises.

“Alright, let’s discuss punishments, she’s scared I don’t like that,” Sirius said and sat opposite of you, Remus took a seat on the chair by James dresser.

“You want us to list some?” James asked, “we won’t do anything without your permission,” he explained and rubbed your knee, you sighed but was a bit confused.

“You can use your safe word any time you feel unsafe, even during punishments. We never want you to be scared of us, okay?” Remus said, rubbing your cheek and you nodded. You leaned your face in his palm, you wanted to soak up all the affection before your punishment.

“We need clarification, you understand bun,” Sirius said, you opened your eyes when Remus pulled his hand away. “I understand, I can use my safe word whenever I need to, even during punishments,” you nodded along, slowly the nerves began to settle.

“Good girl,” James praised, “don’t think we’re going to praise you during punishments either, but since it’s your first time we’ll be more understanding,” Remus explained and you nodded.

“Alright, what about spanking? Not letting her cum for a certain amount of time? Degrading?” Sirius rushed out the ones off the type of his head, your stomach flipped at the word spanking.

They discussed punishments in front of you for a few minutes, some making you worry and others you nodded along like you’d enjoy it. You didn’t know why, but hearing them talk like you weren’t even there was making you feel dizzy.

“What about a simple time out? I don’t want to go all out for her first punishment, I don’t want her to be scared,” James said, rubbing your back gently.

“Let’s make her pick, that way she has control over the first punishment,” Remus said, looking away from Sirius as he kept his eyes on you. “We’ll let you pick this time, but don’t think you’ll get to pick the next time you break a rule,” he explained and you nodded.

“No punishment,” you choose and Sirius laughed, kissing your forehead. “That’s not how it works bunny,” he began and you sighed. You thought for another minute, spanking couldn’t be bad could it?

“I guess spanking,” you nodded, Remus nodded but James wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know, I still think we should give her a time out, maybe even not let her speak for a day or so,” James said, Sirius didn’t agree.

“She wants to be spanked, we’ll spank ‘er,” Sirius said, patting your thigh.

“The whole point of a punishment is that we don’t do what she wants, it’s not a punishment if she likes it,” James explained, you began to worry again.

“I don’t wanna do something scary,” you say, you thought about the discussion of the things you definitely didn’t want to do at the first of your relationship. Were they going to do something that was past your boundary? At the thought alone, you began to sob.

“James look what you did, you’re scaring her,” Sirius rolled his eyes as he took you in his arms, shushing you gently as he rubbed your back.

“M’don’t wanna do things past my boundary,” you sobbed, they all softened at the miscommunication. “Oh no poppet, we would never go past your boundary, that’s not what a punishment is,” James sighed, you sniffled and pulled back, wiping your eyes. “No?”

“Of course not,” Remus clarified, “like we said, safe words can be used during any moment you feel unsafe, do you need to use it now? We can postpone the punishment until you’re ready,”

You shook your head, “no, the faster the punishment is over the faster I can be your good girl again,” you whispered.

“That’s right, just focus on that huh? We’ll be so proud of you for taking the punishment like a good girl,” Sirius said, looking over at James and Remus. They all agreed and you wiped your cheeks.

“Okay but how many spanks? And how hard?” You asked, they all thought for a moment, james and Sirius looking over at Remus for the final answer.

“20 or so? That seems fair,” Remus states and the latter agree, you felt confident with being able to handle 20. “But how hard?” You asked, James stood you up and you felt a hard smack against your ass. You yelped, hand going over to rub the now red skin.

“Does that count as one?” You question, Remus was about to say no but Sirius caught him off. “Might as well,” he states, “who’s giving the punishment? Cant be me cause I’ll enjoy it too much,”

“I want James,” you say, but James shakes his head. “You upset Remus' earlier love, I’ll give you 10 and Remus will give you the other,” he says, looking over at Remus to see if he agrees. The taller boy nodded.

After a few minutes of questioning, you had situated yourself on James lap. Sirius laid on his bed, clear view of your now exposed ass (James had previously risen your skirt and pushed down your panties). You took a deep breath, Remus explaining once again that you could use your safe word whenever you needed.

With the first official smack, you sucked in a breath. There was a certain excitement about it, even the boys felt their heart race as James abused your soft flesh with a couple more smacks. Your skin red on both cheeks, James even went as far as to hitting the low of your thigh.

After the tenth smack, you had begun to let tears slip past your waterline. Sniffling as you sat up and moved to sit in Remus' lap. Once sprawled out, you whispered a small choked out “okay” for Remus to continue where James left off.

Remus’s spanks we’re harder than James, by the fourth you had become a whimpering mess. Your apologies for misbehaving leaked out every smack, it was like dominos. Your skin felt raw to the touch, the spanks stung.

Remus applied the last smack quickly, Sirius sitting up as James fell to his knee beside the bed, stroking your hair. “You did such a good job, poppet, made us so proud,” James whispered as Sirius passed Remus some cream.

Your face deep in the sheets, sobs admitting loudly as you feel the cool cream get rubbed into your hot skin. Sirius rubbed your leg, Remus finished and flipped your skirt down to hide your reddened ass.

“Look at that, you took your first punishment so good,” Sirius said, Remus helped you sit up as you wrapped your arms around his collar.

“M’so so sorry, never break a rule again,” you sobbed, vowing to never receive another punishment. Even though they knew a punishment was necessary, they felt their hearts stop at the sound of your cry.

“Oh baby, shh. Let’s get you some candy from your bag,” Sirius says, grabbing the honey duke's bag as he rummages through it. Remus guides you away from his neck, sitting you down in his lap. You hissed, the contact not feeling good on your abused behind.

James had opened a water bottle for you, pushing in a straw and holding it for you to drink. You nodded your thanks and shakily took it, sipping it graciously. Your eyes were puffy and red, James wiped your face with a tissue, cleaning your mascara from your cheeks.

Sirius had opened a pack of peppermint patties for you, you chewed on it gently and leaned against Remus’s back. After they got you calmed down, the praises had been never ending.

“Look at you, took your first punishment so well,”

“Good girl, best sub we will ever have, hm?”

“Took the spanks so well didn’t she, prongs?”

“She’s such a good girl, don’t you think moony?”

You felt dizzy at their compliments, nodding as they all came tumbling in at once. Sirius had begun brushing your hair, James kissing your cheeks to make you laugh.

“So proud of you poppet,” James whispered in your ear, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked you up.

“Let’s go run you a bath and soothe your skin hm? Then will bring you dinner and you can rest with us tonight,” James said, stepping into the bathroom.

“Okay, I’d like that,” you nod tiredly, resting your head on James' chest. Maybe being bratty wasn’t so bad.

—

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[arodabi]

I kno all this ship talk is getting annoying but i just wanted to make a post explaining why the way alloros treat aro characters bugs me specifically. And then I’ll shut up, maybe

I want to make it clear that i do not care if a couple assholes online write fanfic where aro character kisses ppl or is in romantic relationships. Y’all are right, some fanfics here and headcanons there don’t matter. I’ve been in fandoms where small groups of fans got mad that a character was a lesbian and started blogs just to post about how actually she was 100% straight. That’s still bad and I’m not here excusing those ppls homophobia, but it was also like a small drop in the bucket compared to how much fan content existed portraying her as a lesbian and canon enforcing it as well. At the end of the day it didn’t change her identity.

And i haven’t seen this as much but i have seen some ppl declare Todd bojackhorseman (one of the most prominent asexual characters) to actually be allosexual bc they hate ace ppl or something. I also honestly don’t give a shit about that. Not only do most people know that Todd is canonically ace, he has multiple plot lines in the show about being ace. Saying he’s not is just factually untrue.

But when a character doesn’t have those plotlines, when they never say asexual or aromantic, when all the in canon confirmation we have is “it’s just not my thing” or “I’d rather have a dog than children” or “I’m not x identity I’m nothing” or even just an external tweet from the creative team confirming it, it’s a lot easier to erase their identity. Fuck, I’ve seen a character say “i am incapable of feeling romantic attraction, i never have and i never will” and ppl still not only deny that they’re aro, it’s not even questioned that they’re alloromantic. Every time i post offhandedly about peridot from Steven universe being canonically aroace, i still have aspec ppl every time comment about how they never knew she was canonically aro bc the entire fandom continues to deny and erase her canon identity.

Ppl say “uhhh one fanfic isn’t gonna change a characters canon identity sweaty :)” “one persons headcanons don’t negate canon :))))” but when Everyone does that it does erase their identity! When nobody acknowledges it then a bunch of aspec ppl don’t even know they’re being represented! Fandoms will take scraps of tweets or one line references to enforce and prove their ship or head canon is actually canon, but when writers say “this character has never been in love” or “this character cares deeply about others but would never dream of dating or marrying anyone” then it’s “uwu but that doesn’t prove anything! U don’t have to be a heartless aro to not be a fan of dating uwu”

When the only confirmation we have is a line or two and everyone wants to steamroll over that bc their ship is more important to the point where PEOPLE LITERALLY DONT EVEN KNOW THAT CHARACTER IS SUPPOSED TO BE AROMANTIC then i have a problem! That is erasure! You are taking away our representation! You literally are doing that! And not to get into speculation but if a bunch of creators see that people fucking hate when a character is canonically aspec, they might not want to give us rep if the whole fandom turns and says “fuck you for doing that, you’re ruining my experience” i’ve seen at least one creator say “I’m not gonna confirm this characters identity because it will piss people off” when that character was previously known to be aromantic. So thanks for that i guess. I’m glad at least that there was backlash to ppl erasing yelenas identity, enough backlash to get aromantic to #2 trending which i have never seen before. At least now people are aware of her identity, at least aspec people know that she shares our identity, and when it inevitably gets erased in the MCU, at least we’ll know to be pissed about it. But for many others, ppl just don’t know, because everyone chooses knowingly or unknowingly to cut that characters identity away from them, bc idk they think someone being aspec is boring or smthn

My final conclusion i suppose is just, if a aspec representation falls in the forest and nobody ever acknowledges it, does it benefit the people it’s representing

[cursedsunoo]

hello ! i was just wondering if i could request a txt reaction to their relationship with their idol!s/o being exposed by dispatch(on like new years) and her receiving a lot of hate? like having to not interact at award shows at all while the companies handle it but like accidental eye contact, actually good fans being upset that the both of them look so sad, stuff like that? thank you <3 i love your writing

🌐 TXT'S REACTION TO THEIR IDOL!S/O BEING EXPOSED AS HIS PARTNER BY THE DISPATCH

♡ includes — txt

♡ warnings — media, bullying/hate

♡ pronouns — she/her

#YEONJUN

♡ he would try his best to remain neutral in the situation, but his attempts to keep his own emotions in check would be fruitless. yeonjun is just as upset as you are — not only because of both of your privacies being breached, but also over the fact that you're getting hate over just being with him. he wants nothing more then to cheer when your group is on stage like he had done so many times before hand, but now can't due to his company telling him to tone down the public displays for awhile

BONUS — yeonjun after the fact defiantly does talk about the who thing afterwards and shows his love and appreciation for the fans who supported the two of you the whole time

#SOOBIN

♡ so torn up about it. he hates seeing the words that both his fans, your fans, and the media spout about the drama that the people had spread — he knows that he needs to step out of the light for a while, but hates the idea of you also having to step out of it. i think soobin takes things a lot more personal — he blames himself for being careless with his displays of affection, blames himself for how he reacted to certain parts in your stage, and even blames himself for blinking at you in what could be considered a suggestive way

BONUS — while he may not express it directly, soobin would make a few comments here and there about how a fanbase should have no say in an idols love life no matter how much they love said idol

#BEOMGYU

♡ as much as he'd be equally upset at his private life being put out into the media, beomgyu focuses on aiding you in your attempts to block out the harsh and cruel words from fans and other sources. he'd defiantly have a more mature way of going about things, talking to both of your companies and asking for proper assistance — he knew the consequences would be dire, but as long as he could help you in any way he could, he would

BONUS — when the situation is over, he doesn't even bring it up. beomgyu knows there are still people completely against the two of you and really does not want to bring up bad memories moving forward

#TAEHYUN

♡ taehyun tries his hardest to stay strong and hold his ground, but eventually i could see him cracking under the pressure — he hates seeing how drained you are from the constant backlash you receive, and would even go as far as speaking out on the subject even when told not to. he would express his disappointment with his so called fans, and how the media paints you as the villain when technically he could also be villainized (taehyun seems like the type to be strong at the start, but eventually his walls just collapse and everything comes out at once)

BONUS — if a fan ever came up to him and told him that it physically pained them to see the both of you in such a dull state after the news broke out, taehyun would literally contemplate bringing said fan on a lunch with the two of you just to express his gratitude for them

#HUENINGKAI

♡ he panics at the start — having found the article written about you by himself, heuningkai really doesn't know what to do. he follows his companies orders in hopes that they would resolve the whole thing quickly and professionally, yet didn't exactly prepare for not being able to even look your way at events. heuningkai stays in very close contact with you over text, assuring you that no matter the outcome the two of you would stay strong — these messages also serving as a way for him to comfort and be there fo you through the harsh times that you were going through (but he wants nothing more then to wipe your tears away in person)

BONUS — with permission from the company, heuningkai does a live and basically shows his thanks to the fans and people in general who stood at his and your side through everything (he really does love the fans wholeheartedly)

TAGLIST — open

@fiantomartell

[gucciwins]

Leather and Lace

The one where Harry goes to the Grammy's and Y/N is his date

Word count: 4,960

A/N: Hello beautiful friends! Harry at the Grammy's just blew me away, the leather look is all I want to talk about for the rest of my life.

I was feeling inspired and decided it was only fitting to continue Adore You. Part two is Three Time following nominations. So this is part three. Yes, I have a soft spot for Harry and Atticus. Will always write for them if the inspiration strikes.

warnings: smut (female pleasure), pandemic

There's been one thought running through Y/N's head for most of the day, and Harry can tell because it's nearing five pm and she has not started on dinner. Instead, she's sitting on the backyard steps that give her the beautiful view of the pacific ocean, an empty glass of wine in hand.

Harry doesn't say anything, just sits next to her, knowing she will speak when she's ready, but he also knows she enjoys the quiet moments with him.

Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, letting out a deep breath before settling down the wine glass to wrap her arms around his bicep.

"You asked me an important question."

"Wasn't that important." He shrugs.

"Harry," No nickname making sure he knows she's serious. "It is important. You asked me to be your date to the Grammys where you're opening the show and are a three-time nominee during a pandemic."

"Well, when you put it like that." He teases.

Y/N and Harry made two years of dating on February 16. To celebrate, they had dinner from their favorite Italian food place with chocolate strawberries for dessert that Atticus made for them with the help of Mitch and Sarah, who were more than pleased to take him for the night. It was a beautiful day primarily spent in bed talking and enjoying each other, reminding each other how much they were loved and would continue to be as years went on.

Two years and their relationship has been well hidden. Honestly, Jeff has been impressed at how not one word has gotten out. This may be due to only close friends and family knowing about the relationship. Also that they spent almost one entire year inside due to this ongoing pandemic.

She's not worried about others finding out about her relationship with Harry; that isn't her big concern; it is what they will say about her and Atticus. Harry is a single dad to the world, and Atticus is his first priority, and everyone knows that; she does not want to be the reason they write about how Harry is a neglecting father for dating someone so openly. She fears the backlash and how it can affect how Harry sees her.

Reasonably, Y/N knows that won't happen and that Harry sees her as his life partner as he's told her on multiple occasions. Also, the assurance that Atticus gives to her by calling her Mum more openly around their family. The constant I love you's get her through it.

"I understand if you aren't ready, love."

"Don't think I'll ever be ready, but there are lots of times where I just find myself wanting to shout it from the rooftops how much I love you." Harry smiles, knowing he's felt the exact same way.

"Yes, I'll be your date to the Grammys." She breathes out after a moment of silence.

Harry sits up straight, shifting to make her look him in the eyes. "Yeah, you will?"

"I'd be honored."

Harry's smile is breathtaking, and the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. It's passionate and full of thank you's because she knows how much this means to him.

He pulls back but not before pecking her lips twice.

"I'm going to call Jeff." Harry rushes inside, leaving her alone once more, but a sincere smile is left on her face.

Y/N said yes because even though a part of her wanted to say no, the urge to say yes won because to be there by his side holding his hand no matter the results win her over.

She says yes because as much as she may have wanted to say no, the urge to say yes and be there by his side, holding his hand no matter the results, wins her over.

Harry comes back ten minutes later, a bottle of champagne in hand, with his eyes shining bright as if he had already won the award. "Jeff said it's all set. He's going to be our third wheel for the night."

She laughs, knowing very well he loves when Jeff has to be around them without his wife now. Always teasing him, but also very happy for him.

"Pop that open then! Let us celebrate." They walk back into the house, getting glasses, when they hear small steps approaching them.

Atticus is thrilled at hearing the news about Harry performing at the Grammys. He got even more excited when he found out Harry was taking Y/N as his date. Told them that she would be the prettiest on the carpet, Harry had pouted, asking what about him. Only to agree when Atticus said no one's beauty compares to his Mum's.

Harry had asked Glenne to watch over Atticus, and she eagerly accepted. They let Atticus know, and he was over the moon excited. Atticus knew his Auntie Glenne had a hard time saying no to him.

In a different time, if there was no pandemic, Harry knows Atticus and Y/N would have been the perfect dates for what is supposed to be a joyous night.

Grammy day arrived, and Harry walked the red carpet alone.

It's something all three agreed on, not at all wanting to steal any attention when it was such a big debut for Harry. As much as Harry wanted photos with her, he knew this was the way to go; she would be sitting next to him for the rest of the night, which he was thankful for.

Harry felt comfortable and happy in his red carpet look. He was wearing a green and yellow check tweed jacket and a tartan sweater combo worn, flared trousers, and lavender boa. It was a bit different but entirely himself, and that's all he wanted.

As soon as he's done posing for photos, he has his mask back on and is ushered into his changing room to change for his performance happening very soon.

Y/N is waiting in there chatting with Sarah, and when Harry opens the door, he's taken back by her beauty. Yes, he saw her dressed at home, but she seems like a dream here in this new light. Y/N is wearing a lilac satin backless dress, a long slit going up her left leg. She's wearing gold heels that their wonderful friend Harry Lambert acquired for her. The gold primrose signet ring adorned her right-hand ring finger. A few more that she has gifts from her mother and others she bought for herself, but his attention is on the one he gives her because even as she is in a conversation with someone she's fidgeting with, she has the feel of it under her fingers.

"Clear the room, friends," Jeff announces. "Styles here has to get ready. We can start heading to the stage."

Everyone is up and out in a matter of seconds, Jeff shutting the door behind him, telling him he only has fifteen minutes.

More than enough.

"Are you going to help me or just sit there ogling me?"

She smirks. "If I help, there's no saying you'll get clothes on in time."

Harry feels a twitch in his trousers and knows she's right. He huffs, not bothering to argue, just throwing his lavender boa in her direction.

"I'll always accept a striptease."

"I should have had Jeff kick you out as well," Harry says, not meaning a single word.

Y/N pouts. "Not nice, H."

"Baby, please. No more teasing, not really a fan of going on television with a boner, especially in leather." Harry stops her before she can continue on.

"Alright, I'll behave."

Harry breathes a sigh of relief because he's always so close to caving in. She has that effect on him.

Y/N sits there, turned on by Harry changing his outfit. What she wishes she was home instead because watching and not being able to touch is absolute torture.

Harry shimmy himself into the leather pants wanting to get Y/N to laugh, and it works like he knew it would.

"Got a nice ass, Styles. Might have to take it for a ride."

Harry mutters a fuck, and she's giggling. "It's like you hate me."

"On the contrary, I adore you."

"Yeah, well, hand me the jacket, please."

Y/N gets up, the black leather cropped jacket in hand; she stands behind him, guiding him to slip in his left arm, followed by his right. It rests perfectly on his shoulders; she let her hands slide down his arms before turning him around and getting a good look at the completed fit.

She takes a step back as Harry reaches for the mint feathered boa slipping it over his shoulders before dramatically swinging it over his left shoulder. He poses a hand on his hip.

"What's the verdict?" He's biting back a laugh.

"I'm in love. You should ask for my help in designing a look more often." Y/N's gaze has not left his exposed torso. The butterfly fly tattoo starting back at her, Harry's a bit leaner, but he's never looked, fitter. Definitely, feel lucky she can run her fingers over his abs as soon as they get home.

"You recommended no shirt."

"And look how right I was. Your fans are going to go crazy."

"There's only one person I care about going crazy." He steps forward, pressing a kiss to her neck before trailing up to her lips. Leaving soft kisses, not giving her more, and she needs it. She needs him to push her up against a wall and just take her.

"Trust me, baby. I'm showing so must restraint right now. Fuck, you need to walk out now before you're late."

Harry smirks; he likes knowing the effect he has on her. She's the reason he's wearing leather, having confessed thinking he'd look really good. And right she was. "Need a good luck kiss."

Y/N nods, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, the heels adding a few extra inches making her aligned perfectly with his plump pink lips. She's gentle as she connects their lips; he wraps a hand around her waist before taking control of the kiss, slipping his tongue inside; she lets out a soft moan as he kisses her with all he has. Harry pulls away, a dimpled grin on his face. "Lots of luck in that kiss." a

She nods, still in a daze. "I'll be watching, baby."

Harry and Y/N walk out hand in hand, masks on as they find Jeff, who directs him to the stage entrance, a whispered I love you and a final kiss. He's walking towards the stage, greeting each of his band members lingering a second longer with Sarah.

Y/N was grateful she was allowed to watch the performance from a hidden side stage with Jeff by her side. Those three minutes of Harry singing, she was left in awe as she always is; he's got a way of capturing your full attention. She let out a gasp when Harry threw the boa and turned to have exposed his chest, a broad smile on her face. Jeff was trying to stifle a laugh next to her, and she knew he would be passing this information along.

She felt lucky to be loved by Harry.

As soon as Harry finished performing, Jeff ushered her to his changing room where she could watch the other performances as they waited for Harry to join them once more before going to sit at the socially distanced tables.

Harry came back, a deep smirk on his face, his mint boa now resting on Mitch's neck. "What you think, love?"

"You were wonderful; you and the band just killed it. I felt like it was my first time listening to it. Those note changes were beautiful." She hugs him, happy to have him in her arms again. "Get changed, not much time."

Harry nods, going to the clothes rack but comes back to give Y/N a kiss. She feels herself melt into his touch. She pulls away and sees his green eyes glistening. "Thank you for being here." Before she can respond, he's walked away and changing into his previous outfit.

Harry is dressed, and Jeff ushers them out. Harry leads, greeting people as they walk by, occasionally stopping for someone. Y/N falls behind, smiling at everyone from behind a mask, she laughs, remembering others can't see it, but hopefully, they feel it. She spots a women's restroom and grabs Jeff's arm to get him to stop. He turns concerned. She leans in close, letting him know she's heading to the restroom and will catch up soon.

Y/N is walking out of the restroom heading down the hall when she stops hearing her name called. She turns and finds it's her good friend Julia Michaels.

"Hi darling," Y/N greets a large smile hiding behind her mask. "You look brilliant." Julia was dressed in a black gown adorned with white patterns resembling seashells and her tattoos on full display. Y/N was in awe.

"Thank you! As do you." She says, pulling her in a hug. "Is that a bit of an accent I hear?"

Y/N laughs. "Don't know about that; I've been living in London for years now. Might be that I've been around my British friends constantly."

"That or-"

Julia is interrupted by a man calling her name. Y/N sees it's her boyfriend, JP Saxe.

"Ah, the beau is calling for you, it seems." Y/N teases.

"Oh bummer, I love chatting with you. I would tell you all about him, but I'd expect the same."

"What do you mean?" She feigns confusion, but Julia sees past her.

"Well, who's your date?"

She can feel her face warm, knowing exactly who she's referring to.

"I came with my boyfriend," Y/N answers proudly.

Before Julia can respond, Y/N feels a hand on her back and turns to find Harry behind her. "Calling for us to head to our seats, nominations up next."

"Okay, H." She smiles, knowing there was a look of concern for her hiding behind the mask.

Harry seems to remember she was speaking with someone.

"Hello, Julia, lovely music. This one always plays it around the house." Harry knocks his hip with Y/N's. "Especially this new song that's nominated, she always had it playing. Soon my son was singing it as well. It meant I had to join in. I don't like being the odd one out."

"Thank you, Harry; I'm glad you could all enjoy my music. We've been doing the same. Fine Line is a gorgeous album. Best of luck tonight." Julia tells him sincerely.

"You as well."

"One last thing between us."

"Of course," he nods.

"She's a special one; take real good care of her." Y/N has never been more thankful for a mask because it hides her face that she is slowly starting to heat up.

"I like to think I've been doing a good job, or she wouldn't have stuck around for two years so far."

Julia doesn't hide her shock, her eyes go wide, and Harry just smirks.

Y/N laughs. "We have been good at laying low. Except for this one, he likes to always be doing something new."

"What can I say? I like to keep busy." Harry shrugs, knowing everyone knows about his next film in London.

"Now we definitely have to grab dinner soon or a zoom date, I don't know. I want to hear all about it." Y/N can tell Julia is curious but overall happy for her.

With that, they bid each other goodbye, and Harry escorts her to their seats.

"Someone is very open," Y/N tells him, adjusting her dress as she sits down.

"She's a good friend of yours but also Niall's. I know we can trust her." Harry tells her honestly.

"I see. We'll see how interviews go soon." Y/N knows Jeff had told them he had to do at least one interview if he didn't win, and if he did, it would just be him addressing the virtual press room.

Harry is sitting in the middle, Jeff to his left andY/N to his right. He's never felt as safe when they name the nominees for the category.

Y/N feels the tight grip Harry has on her thigh, and his left hand is rubbing up and down his pants to dry the sweat she can only imagine is building up. She looks up at his face, but he's calm, but she knows him; there's a storm of thoughts running through his head. Y/N knows there isn't much to help ease, but she can remind him she's there for him. She lifts his hand that was resting on her thigh to her lips and gives it a gentle kiss through her mask, yes he can't feel it, but the sentiment is there. She sets his hand back, fingers now intertwined with hers. Y/N knows he's looking at her and meets his gaze reassuring him with his eyes she loves him.

Rachelle Erratchu is opening the envelope, and in the next few seconds, she will announce the winner for the best pop solo performance.

"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"

Harry sits there shocked, his shoulders dropped, eyes wide, not at all able to hide the shock. He just heard his name called; he just won a Grammy.

In the next second, he's standing up, removing his mask, his nervous smile now able to be seen by the camera. Jeff is quick to pull him in a tight hug. Y/N stands feeling the happiness travel through her entire body.

Harry won.

A mask is no longer hiding his smile, and she knows if she removed her, she'd have a matching smile. Harry hugs her tight, her arms going around his waist; she can feel how fast his heart is beating. Harry is not at all ready to let her go but knows he has an acceptance speech to give.

"You did it, H," she whispers, ushering him to head up the stage.

Harry gets up, letting out a deep breath as he hears the applause continue. He picks up the Grammy for a second before setting it back down. He looks out at the audience, and he's just astounded that he's won.

"Wow, um..." Harry takes a deep breath before starting. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my album came out, during a day off in Nashville. I just wanna say thanks to Tom, Tyler, and Mitch, and everyone, Rob Stringer, everyone at Columbia, my manager Jeffrey who always nudged me to be better and never pushed me and thank you so much, and I feel very grateful to be here." He smiles at Y/N. "Thank you to my son, who has been the light in my life and my biggest fan. Everything I do is for him, and I hope I continue to make him proud. I love you, darling boy." Harry knows he's got only so much time left, but there is one last person to thank. He doesn't address her by name, but everyone in that room knows what he says next is for Y/N as he never takes his eyes off of her.

"Thank you for believing in me. I was not the easiest to deal with when we first met, but you're here and have been every step of the way. Thank you for helping me become a better man each day. I adore you." He chuckles, continuing on, "All these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much; I feel very honoured to be among you, so thank you so much."

Harry walks off stage, leaving the grammy he had just won behind, eager to have Y/N back in his arms. His eyes are set on her; she's standing arms open, ready for him. He melts into her touch, hiding his head in her neck placing a gentle kiss on her exposed neck. "I love you," he whispers.

Y/N softly cradles his cheek as he leans into her touch, her eyes filling with tears of joy. "I love you, H."

Harry pulls away, letting her take a step back as Jeff hugs him tighter than before. He's so happy he places an affectionate kiss on Jeff's masked cheek.

Harry's happy; he knows he didn't need an award to let him know how talented he was, but it was an honor to have his support team by his side as he did receive the award.

Harry had taken Y/N with him to help change, claiming he needed help. Jeff knew better but let them be.

As soon as Harry ushered them into the changing room, he pushed her up against the locked door, ripped his mask off, shoving it in his pocket, kissing down her neck.

Y/n reaches a shaky hand up to remove her mask, letting it fall in Harry's waiting hand to place next to him.

"Kiss me," she breathes.

Harry, never one to deny her, brings his lips to hers. Y/N felt her whole body tingle as he claimed control over her mouth, hungry and intense as if she'd disappear if he would slow down.

Y/N laughs as her hands rest on his shoulder, letting him kiss all the skin she has exposed.

"Baby, you're a Grammy winner." A hand now in his hair as she feels his lips right above the curve of her breasts.

"Just like you."

"Atticus must be so proud," Y/N says, now lost in thought.

Harry pulls back, "As much as I love our baby, please don't mention him as I'm trying to shag you in my dressing room."

Y/N grins nodding, she pushes the plaid jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. "Sorry, did you say shag? Is that Grammy fame getting to your head?" She teases

"The only place my head is going is between your thighs." His voice rough, no longer teasing. She can see the lust building in his emerald eyes.

"Guess I'm the real winner," Y/N tells him, pushing up her dress to reveal her black lace panties, Harry's favorites.

"Fuck." Harry trails his hands down her thighs as he sinks to his knees.

Y/N holds her dress up as Harry begins to pull down her panties, letting them fall to her ankles. "Those are too hot to be hidden, baby. Fuck, knowing you had those on the whole time for me has me so hard." He unbuttons his trousers giving himself breathing space.

"Please, baby," Y/N begs, wanting him to give her some kind of release.

"Alright, darling, since we don't have much time."

Y/N has her legs spread open for Harry; her face was flushed, knowing the pleasure Harry would soon bring her. She was wet; she had been since she saw Harry perform in his whole leather outfit; she swears this look will enter her dreams when he's away.

"Love, you're so wet." He smirks, knowing this was for him, but a bit of confirmation never hurt anyone. "All-cause of me?"

"Yes, always wet for you." She breathes out, looking down at him.

Harry leans in, pressing soft kisses on her thigh, getting her to relax, wanting her to enjoy this as much as he's going to. He loves how soft her skin is; he litters kisses as he watches her, still feeling how close he is to where they both want him to be.

Y/N feels like she can't breathe; Harry's teasing always so good but not now. Not when she wants him inside her, but she settles for him eating her out. He's proven more than a dozen times how good he is with his tongue.

"I'm ready, darling. I'm ready to taste you, fuck, you smell amazing, but oh, there's something special about how you taste. Will you let me?" Harry asks, always asking for her consent, never wanting her to feel pressured.

"Yes, please." Harry always knows what she needs; she's happy to relinquish all control to him.

Harry tightened his grips on her thighs, scooting closer. He smiles at how glistening her pussy looks for him. How wet he's made her. He didn't have time for foreplay as much as he wanted to tease her have her withering under his touch. He drove right in, his tongue in between her lips, tasting her sweet juices. It was good, sweet, and just for him.

Y/N let out a moan; Harry wanted more from her; he wanted her a moaning mess. Y/n felt his tongue against her most sensitive spot and felt her knees go weak, fuck; he knew exactly how to bring her the pleasure she seeks.

Harry's eyes were closed, focusing on the noises Y/N was making and savoring the taste.

Y/N has a hand in his hair, her right hand holding up her bunched-up dress. "My winner," she moans out.

"You're always a winner. Fuck, so good." She pants.

"You are….baby" Nothing's making sense. She's lost in her pleasure. Harry was focusing on her clit; he licked at the small peek, knowing she was close.

She pulls harder on his hair, he lets out a moan against her pussy, and it brings her twice the pleasure. "Make me cum, baby." She whines, "Show me exactly why a song about oral sex deserved to win."

Harry, edged on by her words, begins to suck on her clit, letting her feel the ecstasy it brings her. Y/N lost in her pleasure, misses Harry's cursing against her.

"Harry, I'm close." She whimpers out.

"Cum for me, darling." He doesn't slow down, lapping against her pussy, taking everything she gives him. He sucks on her clit, swirling his tongue around as he brings a finger to her hole, gently pushing in, knowing it will drive her over the edge.

"Fuck, you're always a winner. This mouth is always a winner."

Y/N whines out his name, pulling him closer as he licks up all she offered him, letting her ride out her orgasm enjoying every moment. Harry pulls his hand away, setting it on her exposed thigh, drawing small comforting circles, until he's sure she's ridden it through.

She lets out a long sigh as she slides down the door, no longer able to stay standing. Harry grins, guiding her down gently as he sits back on his heels.

"Can I return the favor?" She blinks at him, lust still swimming in her eyes.

Harry blushes but not at all embarrassed. "Watching you cum for me did the job, baby."

She pouts her lips.

"Can treat me to a good time later," he promises; she eagerly nods, already knowing how she'd make him go crazy at him. The taste of him on her tongue later, something to look forward to.

"Think this was the reason you had a third outfit picked." She jokes,

Harry laughs, "Definitely."

Y/N and Harry sit there staring at each other, blissed out in pleasure, taking in the other's smile when a loud knock on the door startles them reminding them where they are.

"When you walk out of here, there better not be a single trace to what you did in there," Jeff tells them.

Harry smirks, "oh Jeffery, who does he take us for?"

Y/N is helped to her feet by Harry, who slips her panties back up her thighs. Y/N walks to the restroom to fix herself while Harry washes his face at the sink provided. Harry is quick to get out of his clothes and into the final outfit of the night. An orange blazer with a white low-cut shirt and plaid pants.

He's ready to step back out and mingle, showing off his girlfriend to everyone who approaches them. Harry stands in front of the mirror looking at the deep red mark on his neck where she left a love bite; he doesn't even remember her giving it to him.

She smirks, seeing him trace his finger over it. Y/N walks up to him, placing the black-feathered boa over his shoulders.

"I could get behind the feathered boas if it means I can leave more kisses like that behind," Y/N tells him as he swings it over his shoulder, adjusting it to hide the mark that would bruise over the next few hours.

"We'll see, love."

Y/N stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She smooths her hands over her dress, happy with how she looks. Not at all like she was just given the orgasm of her life. Harry smiles, grateful she was here with him on an important day. He loves her, and he knows she loves him.

"Ready, love?" He stands being her, hand on her waist

She turns her head up to look at him, puckering her lips, waiting for a kiss that Harry happily gives her. "Now, I'm ready."

Y/N and Harry walk hand in hand, masks on.

Harry may not have won any more awards, but he truly felt like he had won it all way before ever hearing his name being called. With a woman like Y/N on his side who was intelligent, beautiful, and independent, constantly pushing him to be a better person every day, there was no way he would ever know what it would be like to lose.

Thank you so much for reading! I adore you. Hopefully, the future allows me to write for Harry, Atticus, and Y/N some more but for now I hope you enjoyed this continued story. <333

[waitimcomingtoo]

Sexy

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom has a problem when you get asked a sexist question

Masterlist

“For Robert, how has it felt for you as an actor to see what’s branched from that first Iron Man movie?”

You sat back in your chair and looked around the panel as Robert answered his question. He had been to a hundred of these panels throughout his career, but you were still getting used to them. An impressed smile tugged at your lips as he got the audience laughing with an otherwise well worded answer.

“For Tom, how has joining the MCU helped you to grow as an actor?” Tom was asked by the same journalist. He was seated next to you and sat up slightly when his name was called. He gave an answer that showed his appreciation for the opportunity to act along side these actors as well as what it meant to him to be a role model for kids who didn’t fit in. You squeezed his hand under the table, proud of him for answering the question like a professional. Finally, the journalist looked at you.

“And for Y/n, you’re new to the marvel universe and had to join a cast full of very established, attractive men. Did you have any intimate relationships with any of your male cast mates?”

The silence the settled in the room was painful. Robert let out a loud scoff and shook his head in disapproval while the rest of the cast looked at you knowingly. Tom Hiddleston shot you an apologetic smile as Chris Evans laughed to himself. You leaned forward to get closer to the microphone and looked at the journalist.

“I’m sorry?”

Chris laughed harder, gripping his left side the way he did as the audience let out an awkward laugh.

“Well, being around actors like Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth all day, surely you must’ve gone after one of them.” The journalist continued. Chris burrows his face in his hands, unable to stop laughing at how stupid the question was. You saw Toms jaw tighten beside you as he gave you a pointed look. You put your hand in his knee to let him know it was okay and he gave you a stiff nod.

“I know I’m not actually Iron Man but do you want me to blast her ass?” Robert leaned over to whisper in your ear. You laughed at his offer and gave him an appreciative smile.

“I got this.” You assured him before looked back at the journalist.

“I really want to thank you for asking me that. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for someone to ask such an important question such as that one.” You sighed dramatically. “And you’re absolutely right. It was super hard to be around these actors everyday since they’re all just so sexy. How could I possibly pick, you know?” You laughed like it was obvious. The journalist opened her mouth to speak but you continued.

“Since I am so notorious for being an alluring, devious slut, I do make it a point to sleep with every single person, cast and crew, that I work with.” You said seriously and the cast laughed. “It’s easy when everyone’s on set and I can just pick and chose who to sleep with next, but it can get pretty difficult to track down all the editors and executives so I can sleep with them too. Of course, I always start with the main stars of the film and gradually work my way down the list. I even sleep with all the interviewers so hopefully I’ll be seeing you later in my hotel room.” You winked after her. “It’s really nice to be appreciated for my hard work so I again have to thank you for asking that question.”

You gave her a polite smile and she immediately sat down. A new kind of silence settled in the room as your answer hung in the air. No one said a word as you sat back in your chair and shrugged smugly. Tom looked down at his lap with a proud smile as he reached for your hand under the table.

“Can we take a moment to appreciate that answer?” Sebastian said into his microphone to break the silence. Anthony started a slow clap and Chris quickly joined. Robert grabbed your shoulders and shook you proudly as the room broke into applause. Your smiled shyly as the cast loudly whooped and cheered for you. You weren’t exactly quiet around them, but you certainly never said things like that. You preferred to sit back and watch them interact with a deep appreciation just to be a part of the cast. Shutting down the journalists sexist question officially solidified your place in the friend group.

“That’s a great answer. That’s how it’s done.” Chris Pratt said into his microphone as he looked at you. You waited for the applause to die down before speaking.

“Thank you.” You laughed. “To answer your question, yes I did have intimate relationships with my male cast mates. My female ones too, actually. Over the course of filming these movies, we’ve laughed together, eaten together, traveled together, celebrated birthdays together, even cried together. I consider all of those to be intimate things.”

You looked at your cast fondly as they looked back at you. A chorus of “I love you”‘s rang from the cast as the ones closest to you patted your back. Tom grabbed your face and planted a big kiss on your cheek, too proud to care about the cameras.

“I think that’s a great place to end the panel. Thank you to everyone who came. Let’s hear it one last time for the Marvel Cast.” The host of the panel spoke into his microphone. The audience applauded and you all began to get up from your seats. Tom let you walk in front of him, keeping his hand on the small of your back the whole way out.

~

“I have to give Harrison something but I’ll be right back.” Tom told you once you got backstage.

“Okay. I’ll be here.” You assured him. He leaned in to kiss you but you held up a hand.

“Tom!” You whispered as you looked around. “There are cameras everywhere. You can’t kiss me in public.”

“But you did so well out there.” He pouted. “I should be able to kiss my girlfriend no matter who’s around.”

“I know. But we agreed to keep our relationship a secret.” You quietly reminded him. He stared at you for a moment before huffing out a breath.

“Right. Fine. I’ll be right back.” He mumbled before leaving to find Harrison.

You sighed as you watched him leave, knowing it upset him to hide your relationship. You didn’t have a minute to think about what to do as people began to pile out of the panel, all commemorating you for your answer. Scarlett found you backstage and enveloped you in a hug.

“Hey, good job back there kid.” She said as she rubbed your back. “You handled that question like a pro.”

“Is it always like that? They get the cool questions and we get that?” You laughed it off, but you hoped she’d say no.

“Unfortunately, it is.” She nodded. “I’ve had to sit through interview after interview where they ask Chris how it feels to be a hero and they ask me how I fit into my body suit. I’m sorry you have to deal with it too.”

“It’s whatever. I mean, it’s not, but you know. Nothing we can do.” You shrugged. She gave you a look that told you she knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“I know. And between you and me, I’m a little offender she only asked if you slept with the male cast mates. What about me?” She scoffed, making you laugh heartily.

“She probably mistook you as a tree and didn’t see you.” You shrugged, recalling Scarletts infamous tweet.

“You’re so right. I’ll see you around, slut.” She squeezed your arm lovingly and walked away right as Tom came back.

“Did Scarlett just call you a slut?” He asked in confusion

“Yes. But I liked it.” You replied, only confusing Tom further. “Let’s go home.”

~

“Do you want Chinese for dinner?” You asked Tom once you were back at the hotel. His typically gentle features were hardened as he scrolled through his phone from the couch, not even looking up at you when you asked the question.

“Sure.” He mumbled.

“Or should we just order room service?” You asked as you glanced over the menu provided by the hotel.

“Okay.” He said, still not looking up. You eyed him curiously, knowing he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying.

“What I really want to eat is some danimals crush cups right out of Dylan Sprouse’s hands. Let me go see if he has some.” You tested him to see if he really wasn’t listening.

“Sounds good.” Tom grumbled. You walked over to him and pushed his phone down from his face with your finger.

“What’s up with you? You’re not listening to me.” You asked him. He finally looked up at you and sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little distracted.” He set his phone down and pulled you into his lap, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered as your soothingly brushed your fingers through his hair. Tom impatiently tapped his fingers on your leg as he thought about what to say. You could tell something was seriously bothering him from how flushed his face. His body was tense beneath you, slowly loosening up with your touch.

“I just can’t believe that reporter disrespected you like that.” He grumbled, keeping his eyes down. You furrowed your eyebrows at his statement, having forgotten about the situation yourself.

“That’s what’s been bothering you?” You laughed slightly. “I handled it, Tommy. The journalist is gonna be dealing with backlash from that question for years.”

Tom shrugged and rested his chin on your shoulder with a pout.

“It’s just not fair.” He stated. “You shouldn’t have to deal with these sexy questions-“

“Sexist questions.” You cut him off with a chuckle to correct him.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with these sexist questions all the time.” He repeated with a huff. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, reminding you of a timid child. You leaned your head on top of his and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“That’s just how it is, baby.” You shrugged, not sure what else to tell him. You wished it was different too, but it just wasn’t.

“It shouldn’t be.” He mumbled against your neck. You rubbed his back to let him know you understood.

“I know it shouldn’t be. But all we can do is educate the people who ask those questions and give them sassy responses. And you know how much I love being sassy.” You pulled away so you could smile at him. He stared at you for a moment before giving you a half smile back. You thought you had assuaged the situation until his pout returned.

“She didn’t even mention me.” He recalled. “You’re my girlfriend and she thought you slept with everyone but me.”

“In her defense, no one knows I’m your girlfriend.” You reminded him, unknowingly making him feel worse. His face faltered and he kept he slumped back on the couch.

“Do you think people would stop asking you things like that if they knew?” He wondered out loud after a beat of silence.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’d get asked even worse questions.” You laughed sadly. “There’s no way to tell.”

Tom seemed unsatisfied with your answer and let out a sigh. He sat up from his seat position and wrapped his arms firmly around your waist.

“It’s getting really hard for me to sit back me listen to people disrespect the women of this cast. Or the women of Hollywood in general. Especially you.” He stated. “I’m your boyfriend. I should be defending you.”

“I understand, baby. But I can defend myself.” You reminded him with a soft smile. “Don’t worry about me, Tommy. I can handle a few sexists.”

Tom reluctantly nodded and leaned back in the couch, pulling you with him so you were resting on his chest.

“It still bothers me.” He mumbled before kissing the top of your head.

“I know.” You tilted your chin up to look at him. “It bothers me too.”

“I should’ve said something.” He cursed himself as he shook his head in disdain. “I shouldn’t have just sat there.”

“It’s alright.” You assured him, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“It’s not.” He said definitively. “And it won’t happen again.

The conversation you had resonated with Tom and sat in the back of his mind for the rest of the press tour. The incident at the panel did bring some good, which Tom was happy about, as journalists often sided with you when it was brought up. Since Tom was often put with you for interviews, he was able to closely monitor the questions you were being asked. You managed to get through the rest of the press tour without another sexist question, and Tom assumed you had actually ignited some change.

Until the final day.

“Tom, how would you like to see Peter Parker mature and grow in future MCU films?” Tom was asked during your last interview of the day. It was a simple question that he had gotten before, so he answered it simply. You smiled at him as he spoke, proud of all he had done so far and excited for what he’d do in the future. He finished his answer and the journalist smiled at him.

“I’d love to see that too.” He nodded at Tom. “So, Y/n, your suit is obviously very form fitting. I’m sure you’ve seen the comments so I have to ask, can you wear underwear under the suit?”

You blinked in surprise for a moment as you processed the question. You could hear Tom suck in a sharp breath, practically feeling the heat radiating off of him as anger pulsated through him.

It had happened again.

He was asked an intelligent question about his character and you were asked about your body.

“I’m sorry?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to give the journalist a chance to redeem himself.

“I’m asking since there are plenty of shots from behind but never any panty lines.” The journalist smirked at you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable. “Fans wanted to know if you were wearing underwear under your suit or not.”

“That’s funny, I’ve never had a fan ask me that. Only you guys.” You kept a tight smile as you tried to keep the situation under control. You shot a look at Tom, who was giving the journalist a lethal stare. He was gripping the sides of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. You quickly reached over and took his hand in yours, not caring about the cameras and just wanting to comfort him.

“Well we-“

“She doesn’t want to answer that.” Tom abruptly cut you off as he shot daggers at the journalist. The journalist snickered and rolled his eyes a little as he looked at his list of questions

“All right, moving on.” He said, slightly bitter. “Tom, which Avenger, other than Tony, would you like Peter to train from?”

Tom looked at you, as if asking for your permission to continue. He was ready to walk out of the interview but only on your call. You gave him a reassuring smile that encouraged him to continue.

“I would say Captain America because I think he understands how it feels to be the little guy. Peter and Steve were both picked on before they got their powers, although Peter was still picked on after he got his powers. But neither Captain America or Spider-Man have guns or fire blasters, just fists and strength, so I think they would get along well.” Tom answered, looking at you the whole time instead of the interviewer. You squeezed his hand and gave him a gentle nod.

“That’s a good answer. Well done.” He commemorated Tom. “And Y/n, like we mentioned before, one of the most noticeable things about your character is her skintight suit. How did you train to fit into that?”

You and Tom exchanged knowing looks before you answered.

“Again with the suit.” You laughed awkwardly. “Are you trying to fit into one or something?”

“I just want to know how you fit into the suit.” He shrugged. “Trust me, I’ve studied pictures of you in it pretty closely. It looks like a second skin.”

“Well, they measured me, so it was gonna fit regardless. Because, you know, they made it my size.” You answered like it was obvious, because it was. Your straight cut answer didn’t satisfy the prying needs of the journalist.

“So no extra squats to make it look as good as possible?” He winked at you and Toms grip on your hand tightened.

“I didn’t exactly go into this film hoping my ass looked good, if that’s what you’re asking.” You said flatly. “I was more looking to be a powerful role model for girls to look up to.”

“But your ass looking good would just be a plus, right?” He laughed and looked at you as if you were supposed to laugh too.

“Um, no.” You squinted your eyes and tilted your head.

“I’m about to end this mans whole career.” Tom said under his breath. From the look on his face, you could tell he had bitten his tongue long enough.

The boy was about to burst.

“What was that, Tom?” The journalist asked, not having heard him.

“Stop being sexy!” Tom demanded. You looked right at the camera with the surprised pikachu face as the journalist laughed in confusion.

“What?” He asked.

“He means sexist.” You informed him.

“What is wrong with you? Is that question seriously on your sheet?” Tom asked angrily, letting go of your hand to point at the paper the journalist was holding.

“Tom, it’s okay.” You put your hand on his shoulder to relax him, but he was seeing red.

“No, I want to see it. I want to know if you’re dumb or just the company you work for.” Tom snatched the little blue sheet from the journalist and read it over. “Look at that, it’s just you.”

He held up the sheet and the questions you had been asked were in on it. You looked at the sheet and made another face at the camera.

“I’m not the first person to think she looks hot in her suit.” The journalist defended with his smirk still present, only angering Tom further.

“But you’re the first person to piss me off enough to the point where I’m about to walk out of this interview.” Tom snapped back and your jaw dropped. You looked at the camera and pointed at Tom before giving a thumbs up. You were almost enjoying it too much to interrupt, but you didn’t want him to get too interrupted.

“Tommy, relax.” You said as you soothingly rubbed his arm. “It’s okay. I get it all the time.”

“That’s exactly why I’m mad.” He told you. “I know you get this all the time. We get the deep, philosophical questions and the girls get the sexy questions.”

“Sexist questions.” You corrected with a smile.

“The girls get the sexist questions.” He fixed his mistake. “I’m so sick of listening to people disrespect my girlfriend all day long. The girls aren’t here for you to drool over during action sequences. Girls strong and smart and tough and deserved to be asked about more than what underwear they’re wearing. Let’s go.”

Tom got out of his seat, took your hand, and walked out of the room. He lead you all the way to your dressing room in silence and didn’t let go of your hand until the door was closed. You folded your arms and looked at him as he looked at the ground sheepishly. His anger was gone now and he just looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry, I know you said you could handle it but-“

You cut him off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He stumbled back a little but regained his footing and kissed you back.

“Don’t apologize.” You smiled and rubbed your nose against his once you pulled away. “I loved what you said.”

“I know you can take care of yourself.” He told you. “But I’m gonna take care of you too.”

You smiled in appreciation before kissing him again.

“That’s okay with me.”

~

Later that night, you found Tom on the hotel couch again and sat on his lap. He wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you in place as you wrapped an arm around his neck.

“Check out this article I just read.” You smiled innocently at him. “‘Tom Holland goes on feminist rant to defend girlfriend, Y/n L/n. Click here to watch.’ Sounds pretty interesting.” You said sarcastically and Tom grimaced. In the midst of his argument with the reporter, he let it slip that you were his girlfriend.

“Oh.” He pursed his lips. “I messed up pretty bad, huh?”

You laughed slightly and kissed his forehead.

“I don’t think my boyfriend defending women like it’s his day job is messing up. I think it’s pretty sweet.” You shrugged and brushed his hair out of his face.

“But I exposed our relationship.” He pouted apologetically. You took his chin between your fingers and kissed his pouted lips.

“A small price to pay for salvation.” You quoted Thanos, making Tom laugh. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“It doesn’t even matter. You’re still gonna get asked sexy questions.” He grumbled as he toyed with your fingers.

“Sexist questions.” You corrected yet again.

“You’re still gonna get asked sexist questions. One feminist rant want solve that.” He mocked the article and let out a sigh.

“Maybe not, but at least I know I have a whole defense team to back me up next time I get asked a sexy question.” You teased him and kissed his nose. “I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you more, baby doll.” He smiled sleepily and pulled you into a real kiss.

“Now that I think about it, what do you wear under your suit?” He wondered once he pulled away. You pretended to be shocked and gasped.

“Hey!” You playfully slapped his arm. “Stop being sexy.”

Tag List 🏷

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[cerastes]

What do you make of Specter's operator record? Personally I liked it, but that's with the knowledge we're getting more Specter backstory soon.

Ok, so! Just as you pointed out, I went into it with the knowledge that:

We're getting Under TIDES soon.

Specter gets a second Operator Record later, some time after Under TIDES.

And with that in mind, I'm fine with it, but if I was a CN player and all we got was Specter's first Operator Record without any knowledge of the future, I would be pretty pissed, lmao. In fact, CN players were pretty pissed, the reception to her Operator Record was pretty bad. Specter is a popular character both in terms of gameplay and character (the latter more so in China, she gets a steady influx of cosplayers, fanart and fanfic in Weibo, Lofter, and such). It's believed that Hypergryph announced her second Operator Record because of this backlash.

Now, with the context and preamble on the table, I want to say: Great idea, not so great execution. Overall, I enjoyed it, but again, that's only with knowledge of the future. Despite that, I sincerely praise Hypergryph for actually having the balls to try a narrative approach like this one on a mobile game. The thing is, just because an idea is interesting doesn't mean it's good, and I think a lot of aspiring writers and designers need to hammer that in their head, especially armchair game designers that like to theorize oh so much about how cool it would be to have a game that did this or that. I don't care if it's cool or not, is it enjoyable to experience?

And that's just the thing with Specter's Operator Record: It felt lackluster in many regards. The approach was definitely interesting, bold, I'd even say, but that doesn't really matter too much if the result isn't a success, now, does it? Let's immediately address the Originium Slug in the room: Specter doesn't even appear in it. Now, is that an interesting approach to an Operator Record? Sure! Is it good? I don't really think so, especially with a character that fans really have been clamoring to see more of in actual cutscenes, given the wealth of clues they've put regarding Specter in other places:

Blue Poison' Files -> We learn that Blue Poison knew Specter personally before her descent to madness, addressing her with her real name.

Skadi's Dialogue -> Skadi implies that Specter was on a very important mission, and more or less confirms she knew her before she went crazy.

Several pieces of official art -> Specter is associated with the phrase "All seas are singing your name".

Ceobe's Fungimist -> It's implied the cursed painting depicting the end times is the same confusing painting Specter painted in her Token.

Rosmontis' Files -> It's confirmed that Specter's spinal cord is filed to the brim with originium fluid, and the Medical Team theorizes that, just like Rosmontis, her infection was artificially induced. It also confirms that they have no idea how Specter is able to fight such an insanely high level of infection.

So, see, this has been a character that fans have really been clamoring to see again. The only cutscene Specter's ever been is the secret cutscene of Grani and the Knight's Treasure AKA the very first event in the game. Understandably, after two years of the game existing, people were a bit miffed that once again we just get breadcrumbs and a non-participation 'appearance', to say the least, in what's supposed to be her day in the limelight.

Now, personally, I kind of get how they are handling her, and the Operator Records are a very faithful reflection of this: Specter is meant to be this mysterious force that we don't have clearance to know about, as Kal'tsit herself is the only one authorized to treat her or even enter her containment quarters. And, in this regard, I think the Records succeed:

It all starts innocently with Suzuran drawing Specter in a Secret Santa and then having to start deep diving to find out who the hell even IS Specter, because absolutely no one knows of her. Eventually, Suzuran lucks out by asking Meteorite, who did participate in a mission with Specter once, to which Suzuran immediately reacts: "Hey hold on, don't they send you on pretty dangerous missions all the time?", and Meteorite's answer is, "Yeah, and she's right at home there."

Now, this is really interesting because we, as Doctor, have some level of clearance: We know things about Specter and can even converse with her to a certain degree, because Doctor is a high authority in Rhodes Island, but the average Operator, like Suzuran, Aosta and Chiave, doesn't even know of her existence. She's one of Rhodes Island's well kept secrets, even within Rhodes Island. Even Meteorite, a veteran Sarkaz mercenary and a bombardment expert, only knows about Specter in a need-to-know basis (because they deployed once together). More telling is the fact that Meteorite doesn't think she'd get along with Specter, simply based on the fact that, just on that one operation, the level of violence and carnage brought upon by Specter unnerved even her, a Kazdel Sarkaz veteran. Well, to be precise, it's not the sheer level of destruction that Specter is capable of that unnerved Meteorite, it's the fact that she does it all seemingly without a care in the world, expressionless, soundless, simply following orders to the letter without showing or taking in a single emotion. To paraphrase Meteorite, "someone that can unleash such destruction and violence upon others so easily, and that can then just not mind it in the slightest, has something wrong and concerning going on with them, no doubt".

Next up, we also learn that Folinic has very restricted, also on a need-to-know basis access to Specter. Keep in mind that Folinic is extremely competent and not at all a stranger to danger: She handles Phantom. So this is a huge hint: There's perhaps more to the secrecy regarding Specter than just her being a dangerous, unstable element. Folinic could reasonably handle Specter professionally, but it's not about whether she can or not, it's about information, and this brings us back to Grani and the Knight's Treasure: Kal'tsit makes it clear to Skadi that Specter is, as a whole, inaccessible to everyone but her, that only she has clearance to access Specter's quarters. Keep in mind that Skadi does not operate in the same conditions, despite also being an Abyssal Hunter. In fact, it's well known that Skadi is infamous among other Operators for being unreasonable and obstructive in operations, as well as unapproachable outside of them (unless you are Grani, who managed to successfully befriend Skadi and vouches for her). There's things about Specter that are so sensitive, so important, that Kal'tsit can't risk them getting out, and even using her as an Operator is something reserved for very dangerous operations. Not even Warfarin, senior staff and Operator that's been with Rhodes Island for a very long time, has full access to Specter, but she clearly knows the importance of keeping her under curtains, given she immediately diffused the Folinic-Suzuran situation by coming up with a compromise on the spot.

There's another interesting contrast between Files and the Operator Record: Meteorite describes Specter as "dead silent". Mind you, we knew from before, thanks to Specter's Files, that the shark is completely silent in battle, but we also do know that she incoherently rambles quite a lot. Folinic sheds some light onto this, explaining that Specter intentionally stays silent most of the time so as to not say anything that could be misunderstood when around others. When she's in a more private setting, however, she does let loose with the insane talk. This is confirmation of something that had been hinted at before: Even though she's insane, there's a fervent part of her clinging onto sanity for dear life with bloodied, splintered fingers, and it manifests itself in how she'll never harm an ally, and how Specter is, to a certain degree, aware of how far gone she is, and thus keeps her mouth shut around others that aren't Doctor or Kal'tsit, so as to not spook them out or accidentally threaten them with her insane rambling.

Then, at the very end, after Suzuran managed to get her present to her, Specter does in fact deliver a thank you present back to Suzuran: A music box, consistent with Specter's love for the arts. Of course, the gift might have been chosen by a proxy of hers (Skadi or Blue Poison, both known to also enjoy music), but the message is all the same: Specter clearly appreciated the gift, and was mentioned to see an improvement in her condition after receiving the doll Suzuran gave her.

So, in paper? All of this? I love it. Of course I do, she's my favorite character, and it was such a bold way to present her Record, too, I respect them trying out new things, it managed to capture the essence of "the mysterious, terrifying fighting machine Operator they don't want us to know about that's actually a pretty sweet and decent person, just going through some really hard stuff" that they've been going for with Specter, it's just, I can also understand (and agree with) fans because... It's been two years, bwahaha, let us see her again, you know? It's her Operator Record, we've gotten some VERY good insights into the lives and days of other Operators through those, like with Angelina's or Kroos'! Of course we also wanted something like that, bwahaha.

What I would've loved, and what I think would've made it all better with fans, is if the final scene had Specter actually show up in Suzuran's room like the cryptid she is, with Suzuran noting the security door had just sort of been casually pried open, Specter's perpetual smile on her face as she's holding her thank you gift before Warfarin and Folinic just sort of storm into the room like "DUDE, WE SAID YOU CAN'T--", she thanks Suzuran wordlessly, gently hands her the music box, and then she calmly turns back and walks back to her confinement quarters.

But, yeah, I've gone on for long enough. I appreciate it overall, knowing what's coming, and I appreciate the idea, I just think they could've handled it better, but the whole essence and message of it, I think lands pretty nicely.

[marvelsbanner]

You come here often?

Prompt: Bruce x reader soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you appears on your body.

Pairing: Bruce Banner x reader 

Warnings: very slight angst (internal, self-doubt), like one curseword 

Word count: ~1400

A/N: Likes, reblogs, and feedback makes my heart happy <3 Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own! 

**i don’t own marvel** **not my gif** 

It wasn’t ideal, really. But it also could have been worse. He’d seen soulmate marks that were insults, curses- some really downright vile things, so it definitely could have been worse. That didn’t mean looking down to his wrist and seeing the words “That physically hurt me” didn’t fill his chest with anxiety. 

He’s hurt a lot of people in his lifetime. A walking mass of destruction with no limits, a time bomb of green that seemed to go off at all the wrong times. 

He couldn’t imagine getting the privilege of meeting his soulmate only to hurt him or her, to see the utter fear in their eyes that he’s seen in so many others. To cause them pain by his actions, to have to live with himself after it- what if it was bad? What if those were the last words they would speak not only to him, but to anyone at all?

The thought of it alone kept him up some nights- a faceless body puppeteering his dreams, causing him to wake up sweaty and breathless and a little green around the edges.

He usually kept a wristwatch over the words, it wasn’t uncommon for people to keep their marks private. Less likely that someone twisted would try to fake a meeting. The only person he had shown was Tony, who tried his best to calm his anxieties (His own wrist had Pepper’s iconic “Wow, you really are an asshole”  after coming for an interview and finding him half naked and hungover in his office. They had been happily married for two years now) 

So, he tried not to worry- he really did, but every time he would take his watch off to sleep or shower the harsh black words on his wrist made his head spin with the possibilities of what was to come. 

-

He hated parties. Didn’t matter the occasion. Being in a loud, crowded room with warm bodies and fake smiles dripping with complementary liquor- it made him and the other guy incredible antsy. 

Despite knowing how much Bruce despised parties, and the threat that he was putting everyone in attendance in, Tony managed to drag him to nearly every single event he hosted. 

This time it was a charity event, Stark Enterprise making some big donation to a charity to clean up a little of the bad publicity and backlash the last Avengers battle had created. 

That being so, alongside his teammates was a pool of unfamiliar faces. He nursed his drink and surveyed the room, heart pounding as his feet did an antsy shuffle. 

Steve and Bucky were playing pool against Sam and Natasha, Thor and Rhodey were trading stories with important looking men in crisp suits, Pepper was making small talk with some of the women from the charity board, and Tony was no where to be found; ultimately, Bruce was on his own. 

Logically, he knew that, and yet he had the feeling that he wasn’t. He felt a pair of eyes on him from the side, and turned to see a pretty woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and stealing a glance at him. 

She gave a polite smile before ducking her head and turning away, clearly not expecting to have been caught. Or- maybe she had wanted to be caught? He wasn’t very good with these kinds of things. 

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N, she works on the head committee of the charity.” Tony says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and making Bruce nearly spill his drink. “Jesus Tony- don’t sneak up on me like that,” he yelped, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm his raising pulse. Tony simply ignored him and continued speaking.

“Spoken with her a few times- super nice, uses big words I don’t understand. Right up your ally,” he said with a wink. “Go talk to her” he ordered, giving him a slight shove in her direction. 

“No- no! Tony, I don’t.. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He fought, before Tony interrupted him- “Uh uh, no if ands or buts mister, I’m tired of seeing you sulking at these things.  She’s smart. She’s pretty. You’re smart. You look half way decent cleaned up, go talk to her.” and with a final shove from Tony he decided to give in, blowing out a sigh and downing the rest of his drink. 

He tried to calm his heart rate as ran his fingers through his unruly hair, wishing he had put a little more effort into getting ready today. He slowly made his way to stand by the bar where the woman was sitting, giving her a shy smile as she turned to acknowledge his presence. 

Panic. Panic. Panic. “So, uh, you come here often?” He stuttered out, immediately cringing and wishing he was still in his bed- or curled up in a ditch and dead, whichever would come quicker. God, he couldn’t believe he just said that!

She snorted into her drink, nose scrunching into a cringe and she shook her head at his awful line,

“That physically hurt me. Ouch, oh god you really need to work on your flirting skills, if that’s what that even was.” She started laughing before turning her head to meet his stunned gaze, his jaw practically on the floor.

“You’ll catch flies like that” she chuckles nervously. 

“S-sorry, I just, can you say that again?” He stutters out. 

“You’ll catch flies..?” 

“No no, before that. You- you said I hurt you.” 

“Oh, I meant- I didn’t mean- its just a saying,” she tries to explain before he cuts her off.

“No no, I get that, I just..” He quickly undoes his watch and turns over his wrist, showing the dark black words matching her exact phrasing. Her own jaw drops this time, eyes going wide before her mouth snaps shut and she gives him the smallest smile. She turns over her own wrist, the words reading “So, you come here often?” and he laughs, he laughs with a big dopey smile on his face- almost afraid to believe this could actually be happening.

“You’re not the first guy to say that to me, but you’re the only guy who’s had my words in return” She says with a smile. 

“God I- I’m so sorry you had to go for so many years with that god awful pickup line on your wrist” he laughs. 

“No I’m sorry you had to walk around with my words, I’m sure you’ve gotten some weird looks for that one,” she replies. He gives her an almost sad smile, “I was the only one who seemed to be concerned”

Her face slightly falls before she composes it, holding out her hand for him to shake, “Y/N” she introduces herself. 

“Bruce” he replies with a small smile. 

“So, do you come here often?” She says with a smirk. 

He gives a chuckle, “Yeah, yeah actually. I live right upstairs and am usually forced to attend these things by our generous host.” he says with a chuckle.

“You live in the tower? What are you, an avenger?” She jokes, clearly teasing before his face answered the question for him. “Oh shit, you’re actually an avenger. Are you the one in the star spangled spandex or the big green one?” She teases, but she could see his shoulders tense. 

“Yeah, that would be me. The big ugly green one” 

She frowns at his choice of words and tone, “Hey, I never said ugly. I always thought that guy was ruggedly handsome in a strange, green sort of way” 

He puffs out a breath and shakes his head. 

“What?” She asks, shoving his shoulder with her own. 

“I uh, I have a kind of.. complicated life. I was honestly expecting you to run at the first mention of the big guy,” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I uh, I was always worried that the first words spoken to me by my soulmate would be after he had hurt them somehow.” He finally raised his head to meet her eyes, expecting hesitancy or fear- and yet her eyes were free from judgment. 

“Well, they weren’t. Just tipsy teasing. And I’m not planning on running yet, but we did just meet. Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll change my mind afterwards” she said with a wink, and all he could do was give her a dopey smile in return. There she was, this beautiful, sharp-witted girl that he was so worried he would scare off, subtly doing her best to make sure he was at ease. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ll buy you a drink. On one condition.” He said to her.

“And what is that?” She asked, quirking one brow. 

“Go to dinner with me tonight.” He said smoothly. 

Her lips quirked into a small smile, “I’ll be there” 

He smiled and signaled for the bartender to fill up their glasses as he slid into the seat next to her, brushing his shoulder against hers with a playful smile. 

[ageofevermore]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

add yourself to my taglist 

It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Fighting and Making Up” -The Pack Preference

Request:  For preferences you could do a two part of what y’all get into fights about and then make up.

        I wasn’t sure how to do this exactly, but I wanted to keep it lighthearted! I hope you enjoy :) 

Jacob: 

It isn’t something that happens often, but when it does Jake has no issue telling you that you done messed up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem with your car?” 

“Because you’re so busy, I know you’re tired from patrol and hanging out with me. I didn’t want to bother you.” I say looking down at my feet. 

“Well, now it’s worse and needs more work. Don’t wait to tell me when something is wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment. 

It doesn’t get very intense, he just usually gives a mini lecture about how damaging it is to my car. Not yelling, but the disappointed, annoyed tone someone gives when they don’t wanna yell. 

It’s usually making up by sitting in the garage, bonding over fixing whatever is wrong with the car. Keeping each other company, talking, and eating snacks. 

Seth: 

Seth is a loving boyfriend, caring way more than you thought was possible. He gets upset with you when you get sick but push it off. It causes some tension and frustration because he doesn’t like seeing you like that. 

“Please, my mom is a nurse. Let her look at you.” He pleads.

“Seth, it’s just a cold! I’ll be okay.” I reason.

“You don’t know that, it could be anything.” He pouts. 

Eventually, a few days pass and you end up being worse instead of better.

“Maybe if you had listened to me the other day you wouldn’t be this sick.” He says, making you your favorite soup. 

A lot of times he’s just more upset that you won’t make it easier on yourself. It usually starts out with an argument like one above, but you guys make up as he takes care of you, refusing to leave your side. He makes sure you take your medicine, makes sure you get rest, and is always ready to bring you food and water. Oh, and a lot of cuddles, can’t forget the cuddles. 

Leah:

Leah and you don’t fight often, but it’s often when you overwork yourself or spread yourself too thin. 

“(Y/N), why did you say you can cover their shift? You’re already working a shift that day, call them back and tell them you can’t. Plus you agreed to help Seth with his math homework tomorrow morning. And you agreed to volunteer at the shelter. Plus you need to do your paper and study for your final, it’s your senior year of college.” She says, frustrated. 

“Leah, you know I can’t say no. They need my help!” I defend. 

“I know, but you can’t do it all! You need to take care of yourself, make sure that you’re helping yourself. You’re making yourself sick with how much you’re doing…” She grabs for my hand. 

“I know, I know. I can’t help it, I hate saying no.” Tears brimming my eyes. 

“I’m not trying to make you sad, you’re just spreading yourself too thin. I hate seeing you like this, you’re ready to explode at the drop of a hat.” She pulls me into a hug. 

“I know, I don’t know how to fix it.” I let the tears fall. 

“I’ll help you. We’ll get you through this, but next time-- don’t do this to yourself.” She smiles, kissing me on the forehead. 

Afterwards she helps you get your stuff done, helping take the stress off your shoulders. Though, she reminds you constantly to stop taking so many things on at once. The night is usually filled with hot chocolate and cuddling by the fire, including long and loving kisses. 

Paul:

It was no secret that Paul always had the hardest time out of everyone in controlling his temper. Though, after he imprinted on you it did improve vastly. The only issue with this is that now he was a ticking time bomb when it came to the subject of you. He was one of the most emotional and caring people you’ve ever met-- which is why he had such a hard time controlling his temper at times. It happens every once in a while where he gets too jealous/protective over you and goes off the deep end, just a bit. It usually goes something like this:

“Paul, stop being pissed off.” I sigh, walking in our front door from the party we just had to leave. 

“No, did you see the way he looked at you? He hugged you for way too long. You don’t get the way he looked at you. If I wasn’t right there he would’ve absolutely tried something.” He huffs.

“Paul, he was my chemistry partner from a class three years ago. He was just saying hello. That’s the first and only time I’ve seen him since high school. He just hugged me hello, albeit very long but… you’re the only one I see.” I look deep into his eyes. 

“You didn’t hear what he said before he came up to you! He told his friend that he used to wanna get you in bed, and then said he still would. I just hate seeing other people look at you like you’re an object.” He walks over, hugging me. 

“Well, Paul you can’t fight everyone who checks me out or says something in poor taste.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just lose it sometimes when it comes to you.” He sighs, closing his eyes. 

“I know, I know it’s because you care. I love you, Paul.” 

“I love you, too.” He kisses my forehead, pulling me into a tighter hug. 

Lots of cuddling and snacks ensue, by the end of the night you guys always make up. 

Embry: 

Embry and you have been inseparable since you were kids. You guys dated before his phasing, and thankfully he imprinted on you. He was always overprotective, worried about everything you did from day one, and now that he’s phased and imprinted, he knows the real dangers out there and his feelings have only gotten more intense. It’s not always an argument per se, but it usually ends with him worried when you go out into the woods alone or just with one of your friends. 

“Embry, she just wanted to go on a small hike. It wasn’t even at night.” 

“(Y/N), it doesn’t matter if it’s day or night. You should’ve told me so I knew to make sure nothing happened to you, I can’t fathom what I would do if something happened to you.” He trails off. 

“I understand, but I didn’t know we were going into the woods. She just asked me to go while we were at her house, it was just the woods behind her house. I didn’t know I was going to or I would’ve mentioned it.” 

“Well, you went pretty deep for Quil to find you on patrol. I just need to make sure you’re safe, I can’t let anything happen to you.” His voice trails off. 

“I didn’t realize how far we went until after. I’m sorry, Em. I can’t exactly say anything about vampires or the pack to her. I didn’t mean to upset you, it was just a nice day to take some pictures.” I look down at my feet. 

“I understand, I’m sorry for getting so upset with you. Just try to send me, or all of us, a text. Just in case. I need to make sure you’re safe, always. I love you.” He kisses my forehead. 

“I will, I’m sorry again. I love you, too.” I push myself further into his chest. 

It doesn’t happen often, but if it does you guys make up and often lay in bed listening to your favorite music. A lot of cuddling, talking about how much you mean to each other, and back scratches. 

  Jared: 

Jared doesn’t really argue, he’s a snarky guy but overall one of the sweetest people ever. The one thing that always gets under your skin though is whenever you guys have somewhere to be or something to do, he always needs “five more minutes” to wake up. This wouldn’t always be such a huge deal if it was actually five more minutes, but after ten of those you’re set back almost an hour. 

“Jared. Get up, for real.” You throw a pillow at his sleeping body.

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles, clutching the pillow close to his body.

“You said that an hour ago! We’re going to be late.” You huff, getting onto the bed. 

“Don’t do it.” He pleads.

“Too bad.” You say, jumping on the bed.

You then have to deal with grumpy Jared for the duration of him waking up and getting ready to go, but he makes up for it by apologizing and leaving kisses all over your face before you leave, only making you later. He gets you your favorite snacks on the way home.  

“I won’t do it next time, babe.” He says as we walk out to the car to leave.

“Mhm, okay. You say that every time.” You laugh.

You buy him an alarm clock for Christmas. You buy another for his birthday. He keeps throwing them out.

Quil: 

While with the pack you were always witty due to your comfort levels, you didn’t always behave that way. You were always meek and nervous with confrontation with others. It all started in high school where Quil would get upset that you would let people talk to or treat you a certain way, earning no backlash from yourself. Quil began to stick up for you, smart mouth and all. It has lasted all through the years, even when someone was rude at the grocery store. 

“Quil, you don’t have to do that.” 

“Yes I do. You don’t stick up for yourself, it’s horrible. You need to stop letting people talk to you like that. I can’t sit there and let you take it.” He argues.

“Okay, but did you have to tell him that he looks like his mom huffed gasoline when she was pregnant? What does that even mean? What if she did?” I ask, astonished after the incident. 

“I did, I told him the truth. A lot of nerve for him to think he can say anything about you.” He scoffs. 

“Quil… I just ignore them because it’s easier, it’s so much easier than to get so angry.” 

“I get angry for you, it works. I love you, I can’t sit and let someone disrespect you.”

“I love you, too. Just chill out sometimes, okay?”

“We can agree to disagree, I can’t let someone disrespect my girlfriend. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He kisses my cheek before pulling me over to our bed. 

After these kinds of situations, it usually ends with a lot of cuddling and watching funny movies to make us feel a little better. 

Sam: 

When you take too long to get ready and make a mess in the bathroom with all of your cosmetics he tends to get upset, especially when he has to get in there to get ready, too. 

“Please at least let me pee, you’ve been getting ready for an hour.” “I’ll be out in a minute!” I yell back through the door. 

“You said that ten minutes ago! What else could you possibly be doing?” He knocks again. 

“You can’t rush beauty, Sam.” I open the door. 

“You don’t need to spend an hour of your time to look beautiful, you look amazing when you wake up. But let me pee, now.” He runs into the bathroom, frustrated with how long he’s had to wait. 

“Thank you, Sam.” I blush from outside the bathroom door. 

Sam always respects the fact that you like to get dolled up sometimes before certain events, but cannot help but be frustrated at how long it takes you. It’s always a “just a minute!” from you, as you hog the bathroom counter. You make it up to him by not only cleaning the bathroom up immediately, but by giving him a sweet kiss. After you guys return, you cuddle and watch movies. You give him back rubs and spoil him with affection, promising to get ready quicker next time. 

__________________________

Word Count: 2028

[oreo166]

Avatar Hot Take #2

Time for another topic that might fuel some backlash and more controversy.

The amount of negative flak given to Aang for kissing Katara when he shouldn’t have in the EIP (Ember Island Players) episode -- compared to how much given to Korra when she first kissed Mako in the SoC (Spirit of Competition) episode -- is ridiculous:

Now let me give y’all a disclaimer right now: I am NOT saying that kissing Katara was the right thing for Aang to do at the time. In fact, I agree that it wasn’t.

  With that said, however, nor was kissing Mako the right thing for Korra to do.

Yet why do I see many people calling Aang “selfish”, “entitled”, and even “ab*sive” for his error in the EIP episode? Heck, I’ve seen comments go far enough to imply that Aang should’ve been punched in the face! So would anyone mind telling me exactly where the frick all those kinds of comments are for Korra?

And no, what Aang and Korra did in the EIP and the SoC episodes respectively were not different. They were anything but different. Let’s examine the context of the specific scenario of each of the two episodes, shall we?:

EIP Scenario: 

Aang asked Katara if she really meant what she said about seeing him as a “little brother” even though that’s what her actress said. Even after she replied that she herself never said so and only her actress did - implying that she did NOT see him like a brother - Aang still replied, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” Plus, he didn’t even say it with an angry or explosive tone; rather he said it with a clearly saddened yet calm one. This implies that if Katara had bluntly said that she had no romantic interest in him, Aang would’ve ultimately been fine with that.

Aang mentions to Katara the time when they previously and mutually kissed during the Invasion (and yes, it was mutual since Katara kissed back). He also told her that he thought they’d start dating each other by then. However, he acknowledges that they still weren’t together regardless. And Aang was still obviously broken-hearted yet calm when saying all of this. And to be honest, many hints were shown of Katara having at least some romantic interest in Aang such as Katara’s previous cheek kisses she’d only ever given to Aang; her suggesting the idea of kissing in the Cave of Two Lovers; and etc. So Aang really wasn’t wrong to believe that she wanted to be with him.

Afterwards, Katara solemnly says, “Aang, I don’t know.” Aang then asks, “Why don’t you know?” Katara explains, “’Cause we’re in the middle of a war, and we have other things to worry about. This isn’t the right time.” “Well, when is the right time?” Aang asked. “Aang, I’m sorry, but right now, I’m just a little confused,” Katara said as an ultimatum. So right here, Katara doesn’t say that she doesn’t want to date Aang at all. Rather, she doesn’t whether she actually will be able to or not since they were fighting in the war, and Aang still had yet to face the firelord. And at the time, neither Katara nor Aang knew how much longer the war would last, nor did either of them know if they’d still end up alive by the end of it. Aang, however, didn’t understand that. Rather, he started growing impatient, for he wanted to get a clear and direct confirmation from Katara herself if wanted to be with him or not -- which wasn’t exactly what she gave him.

And as we all know, Aang non-consensually tries to kiss Katara afterwards; she immediately pulls herself away from the attempted kiss, shouted at him for it, and stormed off. This part doesn’t need any explanations.

SoC:

Korra told Mako, “Save your breath. You’ve already made it clear how you feel about me.” “No, I haven’t. What I’m trying to say is as much as you drive me crazy, I also think you’re pretty amazing,” Mako replied. So right here, it’s blatantly made clear that Mako likes Korra back.

“So you do like me?” Korra asked. “Yes,” Mako sighed with uncertainty, “but I like Asami too. I don’t know. Things are complicated. I’m feeling really confused, and -- .” Then, as most of us know, Korra interrupted Mako with a non-consensual kiss, yet Mako kissed back regardless. Bolin, seeing it all, broken-heartedly runs off bawling. Mako and Korra blow up into an short argument about it, and Mako storms off as a result. So basically, what made Mako confused was that he romantically liked his girlfriend at the time, Asami, and Korra; he didn’t know he should’ve decided what to do about that.

So in both scenarios, Katara and Mako, at the very least, reciprocated Aang’s and Korra’s interests in them repsectively (even if it possibly was to a lesser extent). And yes, Katara DID develop romantic feelings for Aang. Hints proving so existed, as subtle as they may have been. However, Katara and Mako also explicitly said that they were confused, yet Aang and Korra still kissed them regardless. So really, there’s nothing that suggests that Korra kissing Mako in the SoC episode was more okay than Aang kissing Katara in the EIP episode.

Heck, I’d even argue that Korra’s kiss was actually even worse than Aang’s. Like I said before, Mako was already dating Asami at the time -- and Korra knew that herself! And while albeit Korra really was seeing mostly as a platonic hangout, she was technically dating Bolin as well; therefore, she ended up ripping Bolin’s heart when he saw her kiss his brother. It doesn’t matter if Mako kissed Korra back unlike Katara with Aang. You don’t kiss someone who already has a significant other. So if any of you anti-kataangers really want to preach about consent, then you ought to be talking about Korra more.

Now let me get one more disclaimer out of the way: I’m NOT saying all of this to bash on Korra or her relationship with Mako! Just like Aang — who angrily called himself an idiot after realizing his mistake of kissing Katara at an inappropriate time — Korra realized her mistake very soon after. In fact, we even get to see Korra apologize to Bolin for breaking his heart. For me to bash on Korra and her relationship with Mako, I’d have to end up bashing on Aang and his relationship with Katara — and that’s DEFINITELY NOT the purpose of this post.

TL;DR: Cut the double standards! Either bash on both Aang and Korra for their inappropriately-timed kisses or don’t bash either of them at all!