#most of these are actually done one or two are missing a few sentences

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[alwayscorvus]

Forced Marriage

Forced Marriage

Jing Yuan x male reader, fluff;

This day has finally come. Day when you and Jing Yuan were going to get married and fulfill your parents' promise.

Several years had passed since signing the agreement as children. Your parents long gone from this world. You both have earned a good name for yourselves. But despite the huge period of time and all your achievements, you have forgotten about one and most important thing. Or you may have actually done it on purpose. You haven't built a bond expected for future partners. You haven't gotten to know each other. You haven't even met. Not counting a few important occasions, banquets or incidents, at which you never exchanged more than two sentences. You knew your current appearance only from paintings.

But now it was all about to change.

You adjusted the collar of your white shirt in the mirror and sent your reflection a hesitant glance.

Suddenly you heard a creak of an opening door. You turned rapidly and your eyes caught a glimpse of a figure of the man that you were supposed to marry in next few hours.

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Weirdly terrified. A feeling once completely unfamiliar to you.

You kept watching as Jing Yuan made his way down the grand, snowy white, marble staircase, positioned in the center of the room. He was moving with incredible elegance. His hips gently swayed from side to side in the rhythm of lions' tails that confidently hunted his prey.

Right behind your fiancé his butler followed. His movements were much more clumsy, struggling to keep up with his master.

-It's a honor.

Said Jing Yuan, bowing low as he finally managed to reach you.

-My pleasure.

You answered with a fake confidence. You weren't sure what to do with yourself. Should you shake his hand? Give him a hug? Confess for how long you had been looking forward to this meeting? After all, you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. Completely inseparable.

Jing Yuan, however, seemed cold and reserved. Completely different from the descriptions. Although his face didn't show much, man didn't fail to send you an unfriendly glance.

You rubbed your sweaty palms against the sides of your suit pants. You really can't remember the last time you were so nervous. Have you ever been this way? Even when handling the biggest contracts on which your family's good name depended, you weren't this worried. Today, however, was very different. As well as the entire last week for which you couldn't sleep.

-Misses Xiǎo Huì probably warned you that it's not gonna be anything big. Everyone will find out about our new status eventually, but I don't want to make a ceremony that shakes whole Xianzhou Luofu. I prefer to let this matter pass as quietly as possible. We came to the conclusion that my marriage... precisely this marriage, may not have the best impact on my position as Charioteer.

Ah, of course. Over those past years since Jing Yuan was a small child, he was able to completely turn around his family's luck and become a Charioteer. He chose a path completely different from his origins.

While you were enriching and expanding a company passed down from generation to generation, he was starting from an absolute scratch. Literally. Because at the time all his family had to offer were debts.

Although you admired his achievements and hard work, you probably would have preferred if he had remained as an ordinary, average Jing Yuan. Or at least if he hadn't been in charge of all citizens… That would have been much more simpler…

Ceremony passed quickly. Too quickly. Whole concept was so abstract to you that you weren't even able to recall whole time spent on all activities. At first you didn't want to interfere in the course of your wedding. You thought that you would let Jing Yuan take the lead and carry it out in any way he wished. However now, you regretted that deeply.

Before you knew it, you got your blessings from all the important figures in Xianzhou Luofu and beyond. While your hands grabbed brushes and signed all needed paperwork.

In the end, inspired by a foreign tradition, you exchanged rings. You needed something that at first glance symbolized and proved your relationship.

However, your movements were completely automatic and not tainted by any feeling. Deep in your soul you laughed bitterly at this.

-This is our shared bedroom - he announced, pointing at the room with a gentle nod.

You looked around in astonishment.

Huge, shadowed bedroom, without any natural light source. Only with candles alone. Candles that emitted a cozy warmth. In theory.

Major attention was focused on a large canopy bed placed in the center. Covered with thick layers of duvets in plum and burgundy colors. Whole place almost screamed with splendor. And was definitely different from a traditional bedroom in these regions. It was most likely a former guest room for high-ranked foreign heads, who felt uncomfortable in an unfamiliar environment.

And this suggested that Jing Yuan didn't want to sacrifice his private bedroom for your shared abode.

-Of course, only for now. Until public interest dies down. If something were to leak outside the gates of this building, we would probably prefer for it to not be an unfavourable gossip, right? -he asked almost cockily- I think that in a few months… Maybe a year or two. We will be able to split up and go our separate ways. I'll take one wing and you will take the other. We'll pretend that it's more convenient for our work. Although… I don't think we'll have to pretend.

You were stunned.

So this is how your marriage was supposed to look like…

-But isn't that better? I mean... you know, you don't even swing that way.

You had just finished venting about your worries over a bottle of soju, when your friend decided to bring you back to reality.

You looked at him dumbfounded. But still, you let him continue. Especially after he poured you another glass.

-Since he is not really interested and calls it just a deal, you can treat it like that too. Say that in the eyes of the public you will play a perfect, compatible marriage couple, and in your own four walls you will lead separate lives. You will find yourself some nice chick, flatter her a little bit and-

You growled in disappointment.

-First of all: fact that Jing Yuan is a man is actually the least of my problems. Secondly, I'm not a cheater. Even if for him it's just an arrangement, for me it's still a certified marriage signed by two fully aware people. Even if nothing happens between us I'm not planning to find anyone else.

Your friend just waved his hand at this and ordered another two bottles of drink from a passing by waitress.

-Do you want something more to eat? - he looked at you with expectation. You merely nodded. You didn't care about the food. You wanted to get back to looking for a solution to your problem as soon as possible - In that case I'll ask for another set of what we had before and maybe some more pork this time. Okay, cutie?

He gave a waitress a charming smile, and she, wholly covered in blush, curtsied and quickly ran off towards the kitchen. At the same time, you kept your focus on the slowly cooling grill that decorated the center of a table.

-Ahhh-… cause you always choose the path of this hopeless romantic. And where did that get you? -he pointed at you with disapproval- Look where you are now.

Your head collapsed on your hands, that were laying on the table. You started doubting the point of this meeting.

-Better tell me what to do to "get out of this place".

-I mean- you can wait, be patient. You can play the perfect and understanding partner, hoping that Jing Yuan will one day reciprocate your feelings. But that may take years, or worse, never even happen. And you-… just look at yourself. You are helpless. Lets be honest, you aren't patient. Or at least not anymore in that case. Especially after so many years of waiting. So we need to try a different approach.

-But what kind of?

-Well… -man smiled menacingly- Time for a shock therapy.

"If you are legalny his husband and if you want to be his husband just act as his husband. In the end he doesn't really care."

You weren't sure if this was the best advice you'd ever heard, but you still decided to get swept away.

Which led you to this very moment.

-I promise, I'm gonna be gentle.

Jing Yuan looked at you with suspicion.

-It's not like I'm gonna do anything bad to you - you said slightly devastated- We are partners, remember?

Jing Yuan only furrowed his eyebrows more. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight from leg to leg. Behind his back you could almost see an imaginary lion's tail that dangerously wagged in rhythm of Jing Yuan's excessive stomping. It wasn't hard to see that your husband was now seriously considering all the pros and cons. When you waited like on tenterhooks, clenching your thumbs tightly.

-Alright.

He decided dryly and without a long delay sat down on the edge of your shared bed. Probably out of all ideas and demands that you could come up with, this one was not the worst and relatively harmless.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, you took a seat right behind his back in the blink of an eye.

With shaking hands you grabbed the ribbon that kept his hair tied. You pulled on it gently. Ribbon untied itself smoothly and slipped onto a duvet, without much resistance. Hair, that had been pinned up for whole this time, gracefully spilled on all sides. Thrilled with admiration, you began to gently caress them. In touch they resembled a most expensive silk. They were so delicate that they were just slipping through your hands. You dipped deeper into the snow-white ocean, feeling so pleasant that you wished for it to never stop.

-Do you ever plan to start? -he asked without much patience.

Startled, you almost jumped up. You completely lost yourself in the pleasure, forgetting what you were actually supposed to do.

You grabbed a comb and separated a small part of Jing Yuan's hair.

-How many braids will be fine?

-Do as you wish.

He waved his hand as if shooing away an annoying bug. Jing Yuan probably wasn't aware of your capabilities and had already put himself in a losing position for today. You cheered deeply at that. Since you didn't get a limit you won't restrict yourself either. You will prolong the moment as much as possible.

As you brushed his hair, you also gently massaged his head, which apparently must have appealed to him. Because after a few minutes he forgot to hold back and kept bringing his head closer towards your hand, whenever it moved just a little bit away.

Maybe your ears were playing tricks on you, but you could have swear that in every few minutes you heard a quiet cat's purr.

But you didn't even dare to bring up this subject.

-Huì Fēn?

Jing Yuan's butler paused his hand on a doorknob and turned towards you surprised.

-May I have a question for you?

Trying to relax and focus your attention on something else you began to blindly sort through the papers that were lying on your desk.

-Of course, Sir. How can I help you?

He quickly straightened himself and clasped his hands behind his back.

-It's about Jing Yuan.

Butler's face instantly turned pale.

-I know you have been by his side for many years, you met while you were still in the army… He can always count on your and he has a great trust in you. He has surely entrusted you with more than one secret…

-What do you want to imply by this, Sir? -eventually, he was unable to endure your words. Although his voice was still flawlessly calm.

-Does-… does Jing Yuan have someone? Or-… had someone?

Butler looked at you slightly stunned.

-I can swear that if it's true I won't do any harm to any of them. I just-… I just want to know…

You threw your hands and slightly depressed, sank onto a wooden furniture. You knew that Huì Fēn was not on your side. That he could have told you anything. And lie without hesitation. Anything to avoid harming his rightful Master. And moreover, to help him as much as possible.

But slowly you were beginning to feel exhausted. Long weeks started to pass since your wedding.

Huì Fēn smiled at you with pity.

-If it's about that, I can certainly assure you that you don't need to worry, Sir. Master Jing Yuan has never opened his heart to anyone. And that's what may be your biggest problem, Sir…

Your friend was right. After all, you weren't into men.

Sure, because of a contract made by your parents, you never got yourself into a relationship with anyone. But if you were to hang your eyes on someone in the past, before meeting Jing Yuan, it were always the females. You never imagined yourself with a man before, but you understood that it was bound to happen. And the fact that this someone was your spouse made this act seem neither so distant nor so unpleasant. Slowly, you even began to convince yourself to it. And you weren't doing it against your will. Jing Yuan was actually starting to attract you, despite his flaws, despite his cold attitude towards your relationship. Your feelings were above such a mere things as gender.

You turned from side to side. You really couldn't fall asleep. At first, Jing Yuan stayed up late studying papers and defense plans spread all over the bed. Which actually was your fault, since you insisted on him not doing this in his office but beside you. And after, when he finally decided to go to sleep, your started to overthink.

You almost wanted to growl out of frustration.

However, time to put the next stage of your plan into action has come.

Recent events didn't really bring Jing Yuan close to you, even when there were a lot of them, especially at shared meals.

But you won't give up so easily.

Somewhat timidly you began to move towards your partner. Slowly testing the waters. At first it seemed that you would succeed without any difficulties. At the end, however, things took a different turn.

-Despite so many layers of sheets, you are going to pretend that you got cold?

His clear voice pierced through the entire bedroom and echoed in a silent night. Yet Jing Yuan didn't even budge by millimeter. He also didn't turn to face you.

-So that's why there are so many of them? You wanted to separate yourself from me by them?

Jing Yuan didn't respond to that.

Seeing no objection, you gently lifted your left hand and put it on the sheets where his waist was. Successfully moving a couple inches closer and snuggling your chest into his back.

-You're really hoping that I'll get used to your presence and that's how you'll make me fall in love with you?

He worked you out. And at the same time he was so calm.

-So you give in to the possibility of falling in love with me?

Jing Yuan didn't say anything more. Nor did he push off your hand or move away.

That's not the end of the story…

I will write a sequel someday, but for the time being I don't have a slightest idea when it will happen. So it may take a long time...

[alotofpockets]

The captain's sister | Mary Earps x Reader

Summary: Where your sister finds out you're dating Mary. [Requested]

A/n: Another birthday, another fic. Happy birtday Mary!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

You were on your way to St. George's Park for another England camp with your Manchester United teammates Mary and Ella. It was your first camp since you and Mary started dating a few months ago, so Ella asked the question she couldn’t get out of her mind. “Did you tell Leah yet?” Most of your United teammates knew that the two of you were together, since you saw them day in and day out, but you hadn’t really told anyone outside of the team yet. “I have not, and I would appreciate it if you don’t tell her either.” You gave Ella a warning looking, knowing the girl was a bit of a blabbermouth. “Oh don’t worry about me, I haven’t even told Less.” That actually did reassure you, because Ella and Alessia shared everything. “I think you should be more worried about her accidentally seeing the two of you together, it’s like you’re conjoined at the hip or something.” You rolled your eyes at her comment, “You’re just sad that Joe can’t come to camp with us.”

After arriving at camp, you hung out with your teammates a bit, before heading to your assigned rooms. You were overjoyed when you found out that you were rooming with your girlfriend, knowing that at least at the end of every day, you could be close to her, and fall asleep in her arms. Knowing that you would be spending most of the day by putting some distance between the two of you, you were soaking up some girlfriend time with some cuddles in bed. You were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Mary called out. “Tooney.” Ella responded. “It’s open, Tooney, come in.” Since it was just Ella, you made no effort to move out of Mary’s comfort. The door opened and Ella came walking in, only she wasn’t alone, your eyes widened as a blonde followed her in.

“This is what I missed after leaving United?” Alessia looks at the two of you tangled up together. “Surprise.” Mary jokes, but she quickly wipes the smile off her face when she realises that you don’t find it funny. “Don’t you dare joke about this, Earps. Now two of the three most chatty people on the team know about us.” You put your head in your hands, “Leah is so going to find out.” Alessia sits down on the empty bed, “So, Mary, the captain’s sister, huh?” Mary keeps her mouth shut after the warning look you sent her way. “Is that all I am now, Russo?” You were fully joking of course, Leah might be the captain of the Lionesses, but not once were you seen as any less of a player than she was by your teammates. 

Your plan to put some distance between the two of you during camp was a nice thought, but as Ella had expected, the two of you stuck together like a pair of magnets. Sitting together in the dining hall, spotting each other in the gym, and partnering up for drills. Leah wasn’t suspicious of any of that thought, because the two of you had played together at United for years. 

After one of your many training sessions with the team, Mary pulled you into one of the empty physio rooms. She closes the door behind you and lifts you onto the massage table. “Baby, what are you doing?” Mary smiles at you innocently, “Kiss my girlfriend, because I missed her.” You looked at the door worriedly, “Relax, no one is going to come in here.” After a few seconds of thinking it over, you decided that she was probably right, so you pulled her closer to you and kissed her. 

Leah was in the hallway talking with Keira when she saw you enter one of the physio rooms out of the corner of her eyes. She instantly worried that something had happened during training, so when her conversation with Keira was done, she went over to check on you. “Hey, is everythi-” Leah stopped mid-sentence when she saw you making out with Mary. “What is going on here?” Her worried voice quickly made way for her stern captain’s voice. You knew that Mary could stand her ground but when your sister made big steps towards the keeper, you quickly hopped off the massage table and got in between them. “Leah, I can explain.” She pushed you aside easily, “You don’t have to explain.” She moved towards Mary and jabbed a finger to her chest, “I want you to explain why you are kissing my sister.” 

Mary looked between the two Williamson siblings, not really knowing that the right explanation would be in Leah’s eyes. You stepped in and pulled your sister away from Mary. “Leah, calm down please. The explanation for why she was kissing me, is because she is my girlfriend.” Now it was Leah’s turn to look between the two of you, everything started to sink in. The way the two of you had seemed so close during camp, now suddenly making more sense. 

Leah’s features softened, “You know you could’ve told me, right? I’m happy for you.” You smiled, “Thank you Lee.” But her soft features quickly changed back when she looked over to Mary. “If you hurt her, I will make sure your career is over, do you understand?” You roll your eyes, “Lee, back off, she is not going to hurt me.” She looks between the two of you again, “Oh god, you’re rooming together this camp.” Your eyes widened, “Don’t you dare.” There was a sparkle in Leah’s eyes that didn’t promise anything good. “I am the captain, I can change the rooming situation however I see best fit.” With that Leah left the room. You run after her, “Please, Leah don’t do this.” Moving past a confused Ella and Alessia, who start to snicker when they see Mary leave the same room the two of you just emerged from. “Told you so.” Ella says to Mary. “It was always going to be the two of you getting caught.”

-----

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[beforetimes]

if there's one thing that can be said about peter maximoff, it's that he's always got his ear to the ground when it comes to gossiping. it's like, his thing by now. if anyone wanted to hide their secrets from him they'd be fresh out of luck because despite how much he darts around and lets himself trail off sentences in the middle of them to zip off and do something else because he got tired of slowing himself down in the middle of it, he is surprisingly good at being quiet when he needs to and being at the right place at the right time. he has a very good record when it comes to this stuff, so he knows it's not bullshit when he's figured out that his dad—which, like, wow, his dad?—is in the dating scene. he knows it. what's more of a surprise is that he's gotten all strung up with charles xavier, of all people.

which, like, peter doesn't hate the guy. he doesn't! he was just under the impression that ten years ago—wow, ten years really fly when you really think about it, that day feels like forever ago and yesterday at the same time—that charles and erik hated each other. so he guesses he missed the memo where they kissed and made up after punches were thrown in the pentagon's elevator by a drenched, half-sober man who looked like he would laser erik to death with his eyes the way scott tries to do to peter about four times a week without even taking off his glasses in case he'd accidentally make it stick. though he couldn't, because, like. peter is very fast. duh.

so. the evidence behind his claims goes as follows (of course he collected evidence, peter says to ororo, affronted, when she asks if he even had proof. what was he, an ameteur?):

1. erik keeps taking lunch breaks.

it's not like he didn't before but he was definitely less likely to. when they were rebuilding the x-mansion after it blew up and he was their heaviest lifter, it would be rare to peel him away from all the construction. erik was actually weirdly good at building, which peter didn't really expect for some reason because he was always under the impression all the guy did was like. terrorize people. or kill them. or twist spoons into pretzels just because he could. but no, nowadays he's been taking more lunch breaks than ever and it's a very pointed difference, even though they've already finished construction a few months ago and erik didn't really have a reason to stay. unless the reason to stay was so he could be with charles! (scott stares at him with that unimpressed, laser-eyes look again so peter flips him off and continues past the sputtering).

2. he's also like, weirdly nice now?

which isn't to say that peter didn't think terrorists couldn't be nice. which sounds bad but erik might be the one exception. anyway, when peter saved him about a decade ago he remembered the guy being kind of an asshole when he met up with charles for the first time and yes he knows that it puts a damper on his dating theory, jean, but he's not done yet so wait a second. anyway, he was less of an asshole when he came back to help fix the mansion after trying to kill the whole world so peter guessed he kind of swings on a pendulum between good and evil and whatever they get on that day is like the worlds most important and demented coin flip. that's besides the point. so when he was back here to help fix things up he stayed out of everyone's way and he wouldn't do much to bother anyone because in peter's opinion erik didn't want to scare the little kids who knew of his reputation even if they didn't know his face. but, like, now he's been here a while it's like a complete 180. peter caught him teaching a seven year old how to tie his shoes the other day. a thirteen year old shortstack was rocking back and forth on her heels while erik got her a book from one of the higher shelves of the mansions newly refurbished library (who knew that once you saved the world there would be at least one or two places willing to donate books on top of charles' infinite wealth?). it was like stepping into the twilight zone. but it was real. like, peter saw the hint of a real smile on erik's face one time when he saw the man looking over the grassy field of the school. it freaked him out a bit.

3. charles knows how erik takes his coffee

this is admittedly one of his weaker arguments from the lead-in, peter concedes when he gets blank stares from storm, jean, scott, and kurt. like, even kurt! he didn't think that was a look he could pull from that kid. anyway, peter says that it's pretty damn obvious that erik has a whole thing when it comes to charles being in his head. he's heard from someone who heard from a friend who eavesdropped on a teacher who overheard charles and raven after a faculty meeting that the helmet erik wore all the damn time when he was evil was to keep charles from getting into his head. which explains a lot. anyway erik has a complex about charles getting in his head. but he doesn't wear the helmet now and peter heard charles one morning when he was getting ready to start the day off by eating at least two and a half boxes of poptarts. he heard the man say something like coffee? and he heard erik reply with a hum and charles went how dyou want it and erik said don't you know already? and peter had peered in then and seen erik gesture to his head. and he wasn't defensive about it at all and charles had this really weird look on his face that peter spend a few seconds examining in hyperspeed before getting away from the whole thing because the vibes were so weird. but yeah. erik let charles into his head just for some coffee after spending like two decades trying to keep charles out of his head. which has to mean something (and peter knows he's hooked them now because even scott is leaning in like he's interested and that kid would pretend he had a ticklish throat and needed a water bottle more than anyone else in the immediate vicinity if peter was on fire in front of him).

4. all the chess boards

like, they're all over the place. it's excessive. there's a different game set up in the library, on a table in the garden, on charles' desk in his office, on erik's desk in his office and his bedroom. and no one touches them because no one likes fucking chess except for cute little ten year old jenny because her grandfather taught her before she accidentally turned his house into clouds and seventeen year old thomas who's a prick because he thinks he's more distinguished than anyone ever because he came all the way over from europe or whatever the fuck and peter can't see either of them sitting down to play one game, let alone multiple. and he knows chess is charles and erik's thing because he saw the board in erik's room one time—(you were in his room? ororo asks with a very deep look and peter nods and goes yeah we've been bonding lately but it's kind of one sided because it's more like me showing up and him tolerating me until i leave but like it's progress!)—and peter asked before erik could get a chance to politely kick him out and erik actually paused and told him that chess was a shared hobby of theirs from a few years back and get this, peter says conspiratorially, leaning forward as the rest follow suit. he smiled. like a full on real smile with teeth. and peter was so taken aback he was like that's sweet man and then left before he could be kicked out. and now he knows that the only people who play chess in this mansion are dickhead european thomas and sweet little jenny and charles and erik, all the games all over the place have to be charles and erik's which means they spend a lot more time together than he thought before. and they plan to spend it together because a lot of these games are half finished, like they leave and come back every few days depending on how much free time either of them have. (and now everyone looks thoroughly hooked because the evidence peter brings is good because peter is a hell of a gossip, dammit. he won't have people questioning his skills when it comes to this. he was made to be at old little women's tea parties where they talk about their evil husbands doing war crimes. that's what he guesses goes on there, anyway, considering his first gossip session with his mom went that way)

5. charles is happier now

and jean frowns at this one right off the bat but no one really says anything because the way peter said it was soft and kind of less jokey than the rest of his tirade. because it was something he wasn't really expecting? because charles wasn't sad per se, he was always happy in front of the kids and he didn't try to drag them down with his own moods and ever since the guy got sober he's looked a hell of a lot more put together than when he showed up on peter's doorstep, tired and hungover and just plain heartbroken. but even in that small time frame between defeating apocalypse and the mansion being rebuilt, he was just... sort of happy. happy he lived, maybe. happy the world made it and his mansion was being rebuilt so he could home all these poor kids without anywhere to turn to that understood them. but wow, the stark difference between a charles that was kind of okay and a charles that was happy was like night and day. he was just so much brighter now that it took peter aback sometimes. he hummed under his breath whenever peter walked by him in the halls at a human speed and those old withered plants in his office started to stand taller, as if someone finally started watering them. and hank stopped staring at charles the way he did when peter met them a decade ago—waiting for something to give. so, yeah, charles is definitely happier now when no one even knew he was unhappy at all. and it all started when erik started taking lunch breaks.

and jean and scott and ororo and kurt are looking at him less like he's pulling their legs and more like he's made a point that makes them a little sad which wasn't the goal but he gets it. charles is like, jean's dad in a way, and the rest really look up to him despite only being here just shy of a year, so to hear this guy that they always saw as this strong bastion of optimism and goodwill was just sort of sad all the time right under their noses was probably depressing the hell out of the four of them. but it was the truth. and peter knows it was because he can practically see them recalling how the professor was before he got there and before he made up with erik.

so yeah. peter is right. erik and charles are probably dating and now four more people know that charles is happier than he was before and erik is too. and privately, peter thinks maybe if erik is happy to find family in charles, he'd be happy to find family in peter, too. but that's something for another day. he's just suddenly aware of the fact that he's so glad these guys who were so bent out of shape and angry and irritated and heartbroken and assholeish ten years ago are looking at each other like the sun took up custody of both their smiles or whatever.

anyway i'll see you guys later, peter tells them, and races off before they can say anything. he's already halfway across the school and in his room playing pac-man before any of them can blink.

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: a lil workplace visit can’t be that bad, right?

warnings: cussing, links to pinterest. a lil short, sorry!

saint’s team radio 🎀: hiiiii there. thank you for all the love on virgo’s groove, i truly love each and everyone of you! hope you enjoy this, babies!

pls like, comment and reblog!

dividers from @cafekitsune

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series masterlist 🪩

Lewis had missed his wife, terribly so.

Often being reminded by most, that his companion was not next to him as much as she was the last two weeks. He never tired talking about her in any sense and to anyone who would listen. By now, she would’ve spoken about her students or a joke that her friends used to tell as she attended university many years ago. Possibly a song she was thinking about or a candy she tried from the hotel in Miami.

He had missed the bright smile she often displayed at anyone who was open to receiving it or whenever she spoke of her new friends. Lewis had realised she had quite the loud laugh, contradicting her quiet voice, and how she would laugh at his jokes, a quiet wheeze at first then a boisterous laugh following right after. He had also missed how she would slip into one of her many home languages whenever she spoke and how she would derail the conversation to explain every little thing in that specific language.

Surprisingly so, he liked seeing that she was spending his money, even after trying to convince her that it was totally okay. Lewis also liked how she would send little updates on her day just as he did as well, talking about how she’s constantly stopped in the streets for pictures and how shocked she always was that people recognised her.

He also liked the rambles she had whenever they got the chance to facetime. Making her blush at his words was always a sight to see and how she would try do it back but her giggles held her back.

Lewis missed Nadia. A lot.

Sitting in his hotel room in Barcelona, he stared at the suitcases that were waiting right by the door. He checked his carry on once again to check that the little gifts he got her were okay. The specific hoodie he was wearing still had faint scents of her perfume, making Lewis feel giddy to get home. Months ago, he would’ve always said that the world is his home but ever since he met Nadia, he could feel his smile get larger as his thoughts go on.

Managing to get a podium, just as he promised her, he remembered her excitement and astonishment when he explained how many he actually had. She went on to tell him that she’ll make celebratory baked goods for whenever he gets back. Lewis knew that he was distracted when he attended a dinner with some friends after the race, his phone couldn’t be separated from his hands. All that was on his mind was seeing her.

-

“I know we initially removed the second question from the assignment but the board brought it forward that it needs to be done.” As soon as Nadia finished her sentence, her year 12 students groaned loudly.

“It didn’t make sense to me either but because you’re my kiddies, I’ll research when I get home and just get a memo so you don’t have to worry. Even if you all write the same thing, it’s okay.” She assured, walking to her desk after handing out the ‘new’ assignment papers.

“Uh, Ms Brown. You said this can be typed out, right?” A hand that was raised asked. Before the teacher could answer, someone interjected.

“It’s Mrs Hamilton, Tash.” That made a few students laugh. Nadia would never get used to hearing herself being referred to that. Every time she even woke up in that house, it was unbelievable.

With a little chuckle, she put her pen down. “Thank you, Kim. But yes, it needs to be typed out and don’t forget to make a cover, everyone.” Picking up her pen once again, Nadia went on to work on the question that troubled the whole class.

Silence fell and all that was heard was faint music coming from some kid’s headphones as they worked on their assignment or their homework, Nadia never had an issue if they needed to complete other tasks from their other classes.

Glancing at the clock on her desk, there were at least two hours of school left but luckily, she only had a few classes that day and was able to go home early. An empty large mansion but it was home. Craving the vanilla macrons she made yesterday, Nadia was more than excited to get home.

It was also the day that she expected her husband back home from Spain. Mondays usually went slower than the usual but she pushed her excitement to the back of her head as she continued to work. There was still some time left with her favourite class so she relaxed in her seat.

Nadia’s phone kept buzzing with text messages as she typed away on her laptop, sending an apologetic look to the students who’s heads whipped at the distracting sounds. Picking it up, all she saw was messages from Maggie, the school office admin, sending through messages that basically implied that she was shaking, she was excited and constantly repeated ‘girllllll’.

The class was now interested in whatever was going on because Nadia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was nothing she was aware of unless the principal wanted to talk to her about something but that was even more confusing.

A knock echoed through the classroom and she gave the student closest to the door a signal to open it and he froze at the door, seemingly starstruck. All the kids then leaned outside their desks to see and they began screaming in excitement at whoever was at the door. The figure walked in the door and Nadia’s stomach dropped at the sight.

“Oh my days, Lewis Hamilton is in my class!”

-

After eventually calming down the class who were still shocked and buzzing at the fact that Lewis was there, he offered to take pictures with everyone and even brought them doughnuts that he had left outside the class in hopes to surprise them. He locked eyes with his wife and made his way to her, signalling to the kids that he’d be right back to take pictures.

Nadia threw her arms around his waist as soon as Lewis was close enough, he kissed through her wig then her forehead, completely aware that the kids were watching and recording. “I don’t wanna get fired, Lew.” Nadia spoke, facing away from her students.

“I had a word with the principal, you’re good.” He reassured, patting her back. Winking at her as he went back to the excited kids, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She also realised how spontaneous he was because he really just showed up to her work like he forgot who he was.

Getting home was a bit of a challenge, the rest of the school caught wind of his appearance and that was a mission in itself. To Nadia’s luck, school was still in session and she could get home early with her husband by her side. The deal was that Lewis would come speak to the kids one day in exchange for his spontaneity.

Climbing out of the Range Rover that she drove herself to school in, Lewis held her hand to the front door where his suitcases were waiting to be let in. It felt all so domestic like they’ve done this a thousand times before, taking off their shoes right by the door and she immediately slipped into her slides. The home smelt like a mixture of her sweet perfume, cookies and the ocean scented incense she bought for the house.

“Welcome home!” Nads turned around after dropping all her things on the kitchen island to throw her arms around his neck for the physical touch they had been waiting for. They melted into the hug, faces digging into each other’s necks, engulfing each other with their warmth. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity before letting go eventually. “That felt good, wow.” Lewis said, his eyes taking in every part of her face.

He had missed her so much.

“Right? It felt like a month apart. How are you feeling? Spain was something else.” Nadia smiled, still unable to look at him in his eyes. Before he could answer, he knew he couldn’t just outright say anything to her yet. Lewis couldn’t tell her that he’s falling for her so quickly, so much so that he wanted to shout it out to the world. He did that already, the world just doesn’t know that all of this isn’t real.

“I’ve been alright, just wanted to come back home and relax. Getting that podium though,” Lewis breathed out. “Please, you made it look flawless.” Nadia interrupted, with a ‘duh’ expression on her face. He couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that.

She walked further into the kitchen and he followed after her like a puppy, waiting for her to do anything. “I made you vegan vanilla macrons for your podium and my non-vegan ones are in a different lunch box.” Nadia tapped the lunch box labelled ‘vegan’ with her freshly done nails then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Ohh shit, I forgot I got you something else as well!”

Nadia ran up towards the stairs, spewing out the words as Lewis watched her with a smile on his face, leaning his head on his hand. Deciding to make himself comfortable in the living room, he waited for her.

Quick steps of her sandals echoing throughout the main floor, she came through with a medium sized box in hand, a proud smile on her face as she plopped herself right next to him on the couch. “So. You know how I said that I love sourcing for archives in fashion or the latest pieces that are just tough to find?” Nadia started.

“Yeah…..” Lewis responded with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

“This is a gift I want to give to you since you did so good in Spain but I got it like days before the podium so I had to pray that you did good.” She added, unable to contain her smile as she handed the box to him. Sitting down quite close to each other, she watched as Lewis carefully ripped the gift wrap.

He was smiling before he fully opened his gift. “I can feel you just jumping’ in excitement.” Lewis said, his natural accent and voice coming into light. The same voice he used to when he felt right at home.

Eventually putting all the gift wrap to the side, he faced the box in curiosity, opening it and being prepared to see anything. “You’re joking.” Lewis said in shock, staring at Nadia who’s smile was brighter than the sun itself. “It was tough finding these but I do hope you like them, Lew.” She responded.

“These were made-“ “By Virgil, yep. I knew that you guys had a good friendship so when I came across these, they reminded me of you guys.” She informed and giggled at Lewis constantly looking back and forth at the shoes. The Nike x Louis Vuitton air force one was apart of a collection released in honour of Virgil Abloh, Lewis’ friend and Nadia’s inspiration in the fashion world.

Lewis couldn’t contain himself and stood up abruptly, pulling Nadia with him to wrap his arms around her and give her an even warmer hug. A bit shocked, Nadia quickly recovered and returned the same energy towards him. “Thank you, Nads, truly. Not just for the shoes but just…everything.”

“Anytime, pookie bear.” Nadia moved her head to look directly into his eyes, focusing on every crevice of her face. Looking down at her neck, he caught a glimpse of shining silver jewellery sitting pretty on her neck, only used to seeing gold pieces only.

“Is that 44 on your necklace?” He pointed it out, looking back and forth between her face and her jewellery. “Oh! Yeah, I wanted it to match my ring. The world is getting familiar with this face, might as well add to it.” Nadia said with a smug smile and Lewis had to collect himself but he realised he was right home.

Adding a little chuckle, he lowered his large hands from the middle of her back to her ass then her thighs, getting a yell out of her when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Wanna get the neighbour familiar with you?” Lewis smirked, licking his lips at the same time.

“Let’s get right to it, Sir.” She responded, giggling as he started rushing to the bedroom, holding onto her tightly as they went up the stairs.

-

lewishamilton

lewishamilton a week filled with love and joy. canada, here we come ~

tagged: @/nadiahamilton

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nadiahamilton i look too good 🤭

lewishamilton you always do

nadiahamilton omg STAWWP 🥹

user dawg this is so unfair, you don’t get it

fencer my best friends 🥹

liked by lewishamilton

user mother and father

kehlani sleep with one eye open, mister

lewishamilton it’s sir

kehlani i’m still taking your wife, leprechaun 🫵🏽

user seeing you two in Canada!!

user this man is too gone, bridgerton level simp

user well duh, if you were with Nadia, you’d be too

lewishamilton this is true, she hung up the moon and the stars

user OOOOHHHHHH LEWISSSSSS 🙂‍↕️

chunks your home is so beautiful, thanks champ 🫡

user lewis is friends with the beta squad????

user they’re nadia’s friends

louisvuitton hope you loved your gift! 🤍

lewishamilton it was gifted by Nads so it was the best 🫶🏽

user you guys are so cute, it HURTS

canadagrandprix thee it couple

mercedesamgf1 has more stories about Nadia than the Spanish gp, we have to respect it

badgalriri got a problem? 🤨

user they got Riri clocking they asses 😭😭😭

nadiahamilton

nadiahamilton i’m the cooler one

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tyla you’re the coolest of them all 😝

nadiahamilton love you always!!

nellarose_ that french vanilla cake you made? signing you up for masterchef rn!

nadiahamilton girl pls 😭

user you guys remember when the wags called her tinkerbell? she literally is tinkerbell in real life 😭

user and she smells like money and sweet flowers ‼️

nataliatheedon come back to America rn

nadiahamilton canada’s the best i can do 😣

user i feel like a certain canadian rapper is gonna show up lol

user i’m from toronto and there’s a rumour that lewis’ people are blocking off that rapper from getting near nadia because he keeps reposting her pics lollllll

user no ways lewis actually has shooters???

user he’s Lewis, what did you expect? 😭

zendaya mother graced us with her presence once again

nadiahamilton love you Z 😚

louisvuitton 🤍🤍

sza hand in marriage?

lilymhe omg hiii, let’s redo monaco?

lewishamilton hi sweetheart

nadiahamilton hi my love

user PARENTS

saint’s notes 🪩: heyyyy babies! this is one is quite short lol but i hope you enjoyed! love u all 😚 also noticed the colour schemes for their insta posts? 🫡

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1

if your account is blank, that mean tumblr can’t find you!

[noturlondonboy]

Not the Time

Wenclair Oneshot

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Summary: Enid has a gay little moment when Wednesday ultimately succumbs to the exhaustion of being alive.

A/N: one of the first Wenclair oneshots I ever wrote! I’m in love with this show and this ship and want to write for them more. Super excited about S2! Enjoy :)❤️

Enid Sinclair knew three essential things about her roommate.

One, don’t touch Wednesday without permission unless you wanted a knife through your throat.

Two, never insult a member of the Addams family if you wanted to have pleasant dreams.

And three, never interrupt Wednesday’s writing time with pointless questions, or you wouldn’t get another chance to go to bed in the first place.

The first one was hard for Enid and rather disheartening, but she’d take never wolfing out again over making Wednesday physically uncomfortable in a heartbeat. The second one was easy beyond reason; she had nothing bad to say about the Addams’, as they had treated her with nothing but their odd kindness and strangely comforting words. (Not to mention that Thing was practically Enid’s Right Hand Man, after Wednesday’s, of course.)

And the third- well. Enid had never been good at that. It was very clear when Wednesday was starting her writing time. The scraping of that ungodly ancient chair and shuffling of thick paper was unmistakable and unfortunately impossible to miss, especially when paired with a properly deadpan comment of “It’s my writing time now, Enid, and it would do you some good to stay quiet and get your herbology homework done.”

It was very hard to pretend Enid didn’t know it was such, and therefore have an excuse to bother Wednesday, at least once, without more than a scathing glance in retort fusing her lips shut. But she couldn’t help it, she really couldn’t! Enid was a social young wolf, and as easy as it would be to go hang out with Yoko, she had recently found herself wanting to be around Wednesday at every possible chance, even more than usual, especially when those dark eyes were so focused on the task at hand.

Enid wanted to tell Wednesday about her day, and she wanted to know if anything particularly interesting had happened to her roommate in turn. She could usually get a sentence or two out of her if she pouted enough, but most often Thing was eventually sent over to distract her.

It was an odd routine between the two of them. Jittery, anxious energy just begging to be let loose, only to be leashed by the dark force of Wednesday Addams when she was In The Zone.

Normally, Wednesday would stalk into their dorm room and get started on this exact scenario in just a minute or two after her last class or strange activity. She would nod to Enid in acknowledgement, humor her with a bit of conversation while she changed out of her uniform, and then seat herself at her desk.

But today was odd, even for Wednesday.

The week had been lethally long and so boring that Enid was sure she would die on more than one occasion, and her complaints were always met with a sharp comment from Wednesday’s silver tongue about actually taking her ADHD meds for once. Even with them in her system, the teachers had been even drier than usual the last few days, and Enid was ready to claw her hair out if something interesting didn’t happen soon.

So as soon as the door to the room opened with a quiet swish of air, the werewolf was sitting up eagerly on her colorful bed, watching Wednesday with bright eyes.

She froze immediately. Wednesday's hands were clenched tightly and her fingers twitched against her palms, her clomping footsteps uneven and louder than usual as she seethed quietly over to her closet. There was no glance at Thing, no nod to Enid, and no twitch of an intrigued smile at the new cobweb on her side of the room.

Something was wrong. Wednesday Addams was grumpy. She didn’t do grumpy. Only mildly disgruntled.

“Wednesday? Are you okay?” Enid stood carefully, squinting her eyes slightly at her dark little roommate, who was clawing (for lack of a better word) her blazer and vest off with wild abandon like the articles of clothing had personally offended her.

Wednesday gave no answer, only continued to undress and toss her clothes carelessly onto her bed, which in itself was more alarming than the lack of interest for the spiderweb. Wednesday was not a careless person, and Enid knew she hated having her things a mess. Even so, her platforms were chucked under the bed with a jerking rage to her movements as her shirt, skirt and tie joined the pile on the covers, leaving her in her black undergarments.

Enid quickly whipped back towards her side of the room, face burning as Wednesday finished changing. Now was not the time. Her Wednesday was clearly upset.

There was a heated sigh from said Wednesday, closely followed by the scrape of her chair on the floor. Enid turned back, expecting to find the girl’s braids facing her, but was surprised to meet Wednesday’s dark gaze head on.

Enid jumped slightly, startled. She didn’t dare utter a word, not when her roommate had that look on her face, like she wanted to crush the sun between her hands and make herself everyone’s problem. Like she was just daring Enid to say something.

They stared at each other silently, Enid’s shoulders tense. Cold sweat dripped down her back. She resisted the urge to tap against her leg, afraid that movement would set Wednesday off. Even Thing was staying stock still in his little hammock by Wednesday’s cello.

Or maybe he was asleep. Enid couldn’t be sure. He was a hand. It was all very strange.

Another beat, and then Wednesday sat herself down with nothing but a soft breath, her back rigid as she rolled her shoulders in an act that Enid would almost call anxious. If she didn’t have a shred of self-preservation, that is. (She doesn’t, not really.)

A quick glance to Thing confirmed that he was in fact awake, and all he gave her was a confused ‘idk’ before burrowing further into the warmth of his little bed. Enid scowled at him, signing at him that he was no help, even though he couldn’t (hear? See?) her.

The clicking of Wednesday’s old typewriter was slow and uneven. Enid watched the girl cautiously, slowly sitting back down on her bed, her hands under her legs to keep herself from picking at her nails. She watched Wednesday apprehensively, not sure what to do.

Did she dare to say something and ultimately face the price if Wednesday decided to rebuke? Or did she stay silent and try to ignore the way her roomie seemed to be wilting against her desk, her feet (which only had black and white striped socks and no boots, another oddity) no longer pressed completely to the floor, now instead tilting away from each other, like the muscles in her legs were failing to exert themselves enough to do as they should.

“I can feel your horrendously bright eyes burning unpleasant holes through my head, Enid.”

Enid startled yet again, a yelp slipping through her lips as her claws shot out. Wednesday’s voice was quiet and lacking in the solid sternness that was normally paired with her words, and yet she was still imposing from where she sat, several feet away.

“Spit it out,” Wednesday droned, her arms falling into her lap.

A moment.

“You seem tired,” was all Enid could come up with. She scolded herself.

“I am always tired, Enid. The perpetual state of existence that I am forced to be a part of is both exhausting and exhilarating. I delight in the feeling of my blood thickening and weighing my every movement down quite a bit. It provides a challenge, and forces my mind to work harder to be alert.”

Enid blinks at her, absolutely baffled, and Wednesday seems to know this, because she sighs softly out of her nose, and turns her head to see her. Her irises are deep pools of weary intelligence, so dark that Enid swears she could drown in them.

But what really catches her attention are the bruisen circles under Wednesday's eyes.

“Ok, yeah, sure, you’re always tired, existing is a lot, all that good goth stuff- when was the last time you slept, Willa?” Enid inquires boldly, her brow furrowing as she holds herself from walking over to Wednesday to smooth away the crinkle on her forehead. Wednesday would stuff a knife down her throat. Rule number one.

Wednesday’s face doesn’t shift, but she seems to emanate an intent of murder. “My sleeping patterns are not your concern, Enid.”

“It’s that stupid basilisk case you’ve been on, isn’t it?” Enid quickly bites out, suddenly feeling rather upset. “You’ve been distracting me from you being out so late to hunt a giant freaking snake with all the intolerable coddling about me taking my meds.” (The intolerable part is a lie. Enid is very a-okay with the fact that Wednesday pays enough attention to remind her to take her meds.)

“You have medicine for a reason.”

“And the human body needs sleep for a reason.”

“I’m barely human, Enid, we both know this.”

“You’re still way more human than me, Wednesday. And I can barely function most of the time!”

“Exactly, which is why you have medication.”

“Why you- that’s- that’s not the point!” Enid sputtered, ruffled.

Wednesday had that cruel little smirk on her lips that popped the barest hint of a dimple out and made Enid’s cheeks hot at the most inconvenient of times. That unbearably smug little thing…

A yawn interrupts them both and stops Enid’s quip about the change of topic in her throat. A yawn from Wednesday. Enid has a feeling Wednesday’s eyes would betray just how tired and caught off guard she is by this, if only they weren’t scrunched up as she bowed her head into her chest and covered her mouth with her hands.

The amount of devastated whiplash happening in Enid’s head is going to be giving her migraines for days. On one hand, she wants to jump up in a triumphant shout and say that she was right, Wednesday wasn’t sleeping, but on the other, she’s rather distracted by the glimpse of Wednesday’s sharper-than-expected-canines and the way her button nose is scrunching up.

(The teeth thing isn’t weird, Enid swears. She’s a werewolf. She’s allowed to notice teeth. And think they’re attractive. Of course.)

Wednesday is still curled in on herself, as if she’s hiding. If Enid didn’t know better, she’d say her headstrong and impulsive roommate was being shy. (Enid does not know better.)

Wisely refraining from making an extremely gay comment on how cute Wednesday is, Enid instead says, “You need to sleep, Wednesday. I know you think you’re immortal, but I feel like everything that happened with Crackstone and Tyler should put even you in your place about that sort of thing.” The werewolf is suddenly feeling very, very sober at the reminder that they had both almost died just a few short months ago. There’s nothing cute about that. Tiktok is a damned lie.

Wednesday doesn’t seem to have a response for that, but she does look back up to Enid, her eyes trailing to the scars on her face as the muscles behind her heavy eyes seem to loosen, the semi-permanent look of distaste falling into something soft, akin to guilt, as she, too, is reminded of the events of that night.

Enid is not used to Wednesday looking at her scars. She is not used to Wednesday’s eyes on her like that, not at all. She flushes yet again, dipping her head so that her hair falls over them.

Wednesday looks decidedly upset about that.

Refusing to address whatever the actual hell just happened, Enid simply sits up taller, balling her fists in her lap. “You need to sleep tonight, Wednesday.”

“I will.” She’s lying.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not, Enid. I would never.” Yes, she is.

“Yes, you are, and yes, you would. You just did. I know your tells, you little sycophant.”

Wednesday blinks, seemingly taken aback. Quite the oddity. Enid can barely believe it herself.

“Sleep.”

“No.” Dammit.

“I need to write, and then I have more clues to look at. I’m close to cracking this one.”

Enid stands, folding her arms over her chest and grinding her teeth. “It’s really not the time to be stubborn, Willa.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday stands too, her stance lenient as she stalks closer. “It’s what makes me so charming,” she bites out, sarcasm dripping heavily like venom from her sharp tongue.

“There are a lot of things that make you charming, but right now, stubbornness is not one of them,” Enid snaps back before she can take a moment to think over her words. She doesn’t even realize what she’s said until Wednesday pauses yet again, her eyes narrowed into quizital slits.

Hint hint, Enid’s cheeks are once again red. But she doesn’t take it back. Wednesday has been running on empty for days now, and if she has to wrestle the girl into bed and pin her down to hold her there, she will. (She tries not to think too hard about that. Once again, not the time.)

Realizing that Enid is being quite serious for once, Wednesday lets out a huff from her little nose and turns back to her desk to sit down, posture wavering immediately. “One hour. I will write for one hour, and then I will go to bed, as long as you stop talking.”

Enid frowns, knowing it’s the best she’s going to get, but she still doesn’t go back to her bed.

Wednesday is quiet and types for a moment, before shaking her head almost sincerely. “I will sleep, Enid. I promise.”

Enid beams, happy with that answer, and skips on over to jump into her blankets. She sets an alarm on her phone for one hour, and promptly scrolls through her Pinterest with a small seed of contentment in her chest.

It’s not even ten minutes later that Wednesday’s faltering typing stops completely, and Enid waits a moment before peeking up over her pillows to see what her roommate is up to. To her utter shock and complete disbelief, Wednesday is asleep, her dark head of hair slumped forward against her forearm as one hand still lays on the typewriter keys. Her back rises and falls softly, and her black hoodie seems to swallow her up.

Enid swoons.

Careful to be quiet, the werewolf gets back off her bed and steps over the wood board that once held the black tape dividing their room in two. She hasn’t been into Wednesday’s side of the room uninvited in quite a while, and she swears it’s colder and draftier the further in she gets. Typical.

Thing watches her from his hammock with a vague interest as she grabs a blanket off of Wednesday’s bed and goes to drape it over the sleeping girl. She wraps it around her softly and gently takes Wednesday’s hand off of the typewriter, tucking it under her head with the other. She’s honestly surprised that Wednesday hasn’t woken up and cursed her entire bloodline yet. She’s not too entirely opposed to the thought. It’s kind of hot, actually, if she takes a minute to think about it.

(It is, once again, still not the time.)

Wednesday’s cheek is squished against her arm, and Enid decides it’s the best thing she’s ever seen. The girl’s face is softer in sleep, the dying light through their window casting melting shapes over the lines of her jaw, the curve of her nose, the dip of her mouth. Enid cannot help but to stare, and she can’t quite find the strength to stop.

“I haven’t felt her skin on mine since our hug last semester, Thing,” she whispers carefully. “I have dreams about it sometimes, actually.” Enid lets out a tiny laugh. “How embarrassing is that?”

She doesn’t look up to see if he answers or was even listening. She just watches Wednesday, watches to make sure she really is sleeping, that she’s still breathing, that her eyes aren’t twitching behind their lids with nightmares. She doesn’t care how many times Wednesday says she enjoys them. They’re not cool.

Enid holds in a breath and places her hand over Wednesday’s, the tips of her fingers buzzing with the contact.

“She’s still so much warmer than I thought she would be.” Her voice is small and she can hear the disgusting amount of adoration that seeps from it. Wednesday would never stand for this. But Wednesday is asleep, and Enid is greedy, and wants this moment all to herself.

A moment passes, maybe two, maybe minutes, Enid isn’t sure- but she finds her head next to Wednesday’s on the desk, their breathing slow and in sync. Enid feels calm, her heart letting itself just simply be.

“You're so beautiful,” she breathes, hardly aware of how dead she would be if Wednesday woke up right then. She doesn’t quite care. All she knows is that Wednesday is sleeping, and her face has gone from cunningly sharp to peaceful, from a brewing storm to the soft rain of summer.

Enid catches herself and quickly leans back up, dizzy with something she can’t really describe. She should leave. She really should go to her side of the room. There were a few hours before her own bed time, and lots of school work to do.

But when she finally convinced herself through the haze in her head to take her hand away, a small motion and a pulse on one of her fingers kept her there. She freezes, slowly looking down.

Wednesday’s pinky is looped over Enid’s own, and as she holds her breath and makes another attempt to pull away, the hold on it only tightens. Wednesday’s brow seems to furrow. The devastating corners of her taunting mouth pull down.

Enid stops trying. Wednesday’s face melts back into a perfect mask of serenity that has Enid’s knees going weak.

“I won’t leave,” she murmurs, her heart pounding in her ears. “I’ll stay, Willa.” She ever so carefully scoots her way onto the chair with Wednesday, one leg hanging off while her friend is still blessedly seated and stable.

Wednesday makes no move to push her off or wake up- in fact, she seems to lean into Enid, melting against her shoulder. One of her braids falls out of the blanket and over Enid’s arm, and she swears she’s going to die. Again.

Enid can only look at her in awe and do her best to hold back the explosion of gay panic that’s sizzling at the base of her skull. Not the time, not the time, not the time.

She falls asleep like that, her hand interlocked with Wednesday’s, their faces inches apart, soft breaths intermingling. She knows she’ll have a cramp tomorrow. And Wednesday will likely kill her in the most brutal way. But Enid doesn’t mind, not really.

She’s just happy to be there with her.

[majorproblems77]

LU Update! So welcome back to the analysis corner with me!

We have another LU update! Called Moving forward we see the heroes leave the town and make their way to the location that Sky found. With learning a little more about the team as a whole.

With 10 pages there's a lot of information to work through so I hope you are sitting comfortably

As always Linked universe (LU) belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, I own none of the pictures I'm using and please give the original post some love. It's very well done and I love this comic so much.

You can find the comic here!

And as always there are spoilers abound for the most recent update!

Now sit back, grab some water and snacks and let's do this!

So before we get started im just gonna say that the brain cell is pinging around this lot so much that I'm bound to miss some stuff. But I shall try my best to get everything I wanna say said.

It was only some of you, captain, dont forget that.

(Oblatory look at my blorbo picture, he's so sweet. Blorbo blorbo blorbo)

Okay I'll behave this time

(No i won't)

I can understand the concern from the captain, as a captain from the army during a time of war secrets are dangerous. He's probably thinking if Twilight has concealed this what else has he concealed.

And then we get snarky wars again

I missed the snarky captain, he's wonderful.

Also the line about double duty, Come on captain, you know full well that patrol is an important part of a group dynamic like this.

This also confirms that the group have had encounters with monsters outside of what we've seen. As the line from wars about missing fights implies that they've fought a bunch of stuff. But we've only really seen wolfie in a fight back in the sunset arc.

Twilight fondly mentioning Midna, I'm so proud of him.

These two are the goddamn brothers ever and I love them dearly. Also, the knowledge we are about to be given about how this works is very exciting.

The brothers ever

All of them

Twilight thinking Wild had more than two brain cells. I love him. And the hug? The hug gives me life.

Also the captain, the captain is a point to talk about here. This feels like an accusatory sentence. The "You dont say?"

Me trying to figure out how time travel works in LU.

Legend, why are you so grumpy about this? Like he looks angry to hear this.

Four thinking about the implications of this sentence. I can literally hear the brain cell bouncing as it pings from hero to hero as they try to figure out this time travel thing.

Wind is a small bean as well look at him. The youngest I love the eyes.

Ahh, so thats the explanation. A spirit wolf that helped guide him on his journey which he trusted so much that he thought that the wolf he saw here was just another spirit until twi changed in front of him.

But this line from him is so sad. "Right after my resurrection" and "we both would have known the grave." This feels like as a person wild is at peace with it but doesn't want others to have to go through what he did. He's a chill dude and i love him for that to be honest.

Meanwhile, my blorbo Sky is out here trying to get actual work done. This is 10/10 the sksw dousing experience if you've not played it. You just swing the sword around while it pings at you until you eventually find what you are looking for.

Fi is trying her best.

Lads all of you need to remember that not all of you have had things that perform transformation magic. Im surprised (But also not surprised) That Time doesn't have anything to say about this. Like my man has used a tone of different transformation masks that change him into various different things and has one that turns him into a god.

The magic users ganging up on the non-magic users, like please behave.

Ahh Time, Time is the disappointed old man that has to coral a bunch of kids. And Wild is like the most kid of them all. (Tell me why I'd love to know! :D) (Which makes sense if we take LU to be at most a few months after the end of his game. Wild would be 18 at most.)

the sort of conversation you dont want to involve yourself in Time trust me on this one.

JUST SOME GUY WILD JUST DESTROYED TWILIGHT OKAY RIP

Feels bad for twi man he earned that title and to have it reduced to just some guy.

Wild is gonna get told off by Time if he ain't careful, that's his blood descendant right there and we all know he has a soft spot for him.

This is important, because I'm pretty sure most of them did at one point.

Another thing that appears to be a constant amongst the team is the need to conceal an identity. Either from them or them to others.

I'm not versed in all of their games so I can't go into full details but these guys ain't the only ones. Pretty much all of them have. The spirit of courage does love secrets, doesn't it?

Thats my blorbo and he's so sad help he

Blorbo blorbo blorbo

Give him a hug and reboot Fi and it'll be fine.

To echo the words of Time.

Curious.

Now this depends on what exactly Sky was dousing, was he dousing the portal, the helmet outside the portal? The postman even?

My money is on the helmet outside the portal, so that Dink came back into this timeline to retrieve it before leaving. But I may be incorrect on that account because Fi is able to track people as well as objects (Sksw would often have you tracking Zelda directly)

OHHHH

I was wondering how they were going to do it. But with Twilight able to track it they'll be able to use a combination of dousing and him sniffing out Dink's scent to be able to find him no matter where he might be.

It's so distinct, twilight you know by saying that you're gonna have some of these guys asking questions. Just wait for the next campfire story time it's gonna come up.

I can see Wind and Twilight having a conversation like this.

"What does Dink smell like?" "What?" "You heard me."

Oh he's so excited look at him!

Oh four.

I wonder if we are gonna have a four and Twilight conversation about this, with four's past he's understandably worried about the use of dark magic in one of his friends.

Oh come on legend lighten up, the child has never seen something like this before.

I'm glad Hyrule is coming in for his defence and all but 5 minutes ago Hyrule you were with Legend and saying to Wild that there's a load of items that do it.

Why is wind just so wonderful?

Look at him go!

Thats gotta be Wind, He's been so excited about this I can't see it being anyone else.

Bark Bark!

Wolfie beloved.

Im here for more brotherly content from the team, they are wonderful.

Now lets go find us a Lizard, or iron knuckle or whatever he transforms into next.

And thats all from me! I loved this update and there was so much to unpack I know I've missed stuff! But I hope you enjoyed it! :)

(Also apologies for spelling mistakes I'm sick rn but wanted to get this done)

Have a great day!

[demonsword586]

Horn grinding headcanons! Niflheim

(I'm gonna be honest,this took way too long to write and I feel like I kinda missed the theme of this series with this work...I also feel like my writing was a bit off....I don't know how to feel about this one!)

Gusion

-bro paint those horns,it's impossible to find them

-he's already tired af and done with everything,so when you ask to grind on his horns....he just sighs

-he suddenly grabs you and puts you on his lap.He then puts his hand in your pants and starts using his long fingers on you while grabbing a pen with his free hand and going back to his math problems.

-He then tells you ''If you can survive a few hours of this maybe I'll let you use my horns''

-but a few hours for Gusion means a whole damn afternoon!

-That fucking tease is rubbing,pinching and fingering you with one hand while doing math with the other,looking absolutelly unfazed. Heck he's not even checking on you,even tho you're trembling in his lap after your 8 th orgasm.

-when the sun goes down so does his pen and he finally looks down at you. He gently cradles your body before throwing you on his bed

-you're still recovering from his previous torture,he's already pulling his tie off and tying your hands together with it.He lies his head on your lower stomach and looking up at you seducevlly

-you're in for a long night

Bathin

-Hmm....now he has an intresting horn.On one hand it looks pretty sharp but maybe it's just the angle...I bet the tips are actually smooth....the swirl also reminds me of a knife but I hope it's not like one....so this could either be painful or really enjoyable!

-Let's set the scene! You two are sitting on a comfy blanket on a field,moonlight shining on the two of you. As his head lays on your lap while he rambles on about a book he's reading,you stare at his very asteticlly shaped horn before getting a sudden horny idea.

-While he's talking,you sneak your hand from his hair to his horn,gently caressing it which get's a quick reaction out of him. He slowly stops talking mid sentence,his cheeks slowly turning a light shade of pink while he covers his mouth and looks away from you. ''My little star...you shoudn't touch someone's horn like this..it's very sensitive for us devils..'' he says with a meek voice,stopping a few times to cathch his breath.

-''Oh? You seem to like it tho. Maybe we could even use it for something more...intresting~'' You say in return,your voice lower then normal.

-With you touching one of his erogenous zones and suggesting something so perverted,outside even!.....let's just say he's not one to refuse you.

-The act in it's own is very sweet and fluffy. He does most of the work while also being carefull not to accidentally hurt you. He caresses your legs throughout it all. Just make sure to praise him and tell him how good you feel. He's pretty quiet,only making a few grunts and a slight whimper

-now imagine all of this but he's wearing a sailor moon costume

Andrealphus

-now I like this. Beautiful shape,rigged,long! That's what I want in a devil! Plus there's so much surfice and ways to grind on....

-Okay imagine that he finally comes home after being gone for days. When he returns he's all covered in blood,probably coming back from another massacre. As a good partner,you offer to help him bathe.

-Now you are running your hands through his long hair while he's soaking in the tub.As you are washing his hair,you notice his pretty horns and get an idea.

-You slide your hands down to his shoulders and softly whisper into his ear ''Andrealhus~ Can I borrow your horns please? I promise you'll enjoy it too.~''

-his breath hitches at your hot breath against his ear,he closes his eyes with a frown ''No...you'll get dirty with blood'' Now obviouslly he's just trying to make excuses! Why? Simply...he doesn't wish to hurt you. He knows how strong he is and since he spends most of his time hunting and torturing angels,he's afraid he might lose control and cause you pain.

-But you are not satisfied with that! You then slide one of your hands down his chest,softly caressing it and with the other one,you gently trace his horns ''But Andrealphus! You been gone for a week...you can't expect me to not be needy when you come back. Plus..I missed you so much! Please don't make me wait any longer~'' you whine sensually in his ear.

-Now you are really testing his limits. Screw all his morals! If you want it,you'll get it. Doesn't mean he'll be rough tho.

-As soon as he hears you pleading,he releases a long groan.He grabs your hips and gently places you in the water,right between his legs.

-Andreaplhus then starts gliding his fingers along your body. From your collarbone to your chest,down along your stomach and lower until he reaches your privates.

-When he touches your most sensitive area,which is now even more sensitive than normal cuz of your horniness,you get startled and yelp before jumping back on your feet.

-Your reaction suprises him a bit but then he smiles innocently and pulls you back near him.He grabs your leg and lifts it over his head. With his horn now between your thighs,pressed against you. With a husky voice he says ''Looks like you really did miss me. You're so sensitive today...let me guess,you been touching yourself a lot while I was out.''

-You whimper softly and nod before placing your hands on his other hrn and humping the one between your legs.

-he groans and gently holds on the flesh of your thighs,holding them firmlly enough to stop your movement. He then slowly bobs his head while making sure you stay in place

-Now you have this gigantic killing machine of a devil,melting under you,doing his best to be sweet and gentle with you while also melting uder your touch. His horns already slick with pre-milk.

-After a few minutes of soft passion,his movements start getting faster and sloppier,warning that he's close to climax.Seeing his blushing face,his quick breaths makes you feel your own orgasm approaching. You press yourself even closer to him which makes you cum first. Feeling your juices hit his horns and your knees tremble,he arrives as well,moaning your name with his soft voice

-imagine if he looked at you with that bloodthirsty smile in between the act

[alwritey-aphrodite]

"wow I really cant speak huh? must be how pretty you look" with tasm! Peter parker

Peter knows he’s not exactly the epitome of suave and charming. He’s a little awkward, lanky and clumsy despite his choice of extracurricular, and May says he still leaves the house without his clothes matching or ironed most days. Still, he can’t help but want to talk to you, even when he trips over his words and makes a fool of himself every single time.

“Hey, can I sit?” He asks, voice too loud for the quiet library as he gestures towards the empty chair across from you. There are plenty of extra seats, open tables scattered all throughout the room, but you’re like a magnet, and every time Peter sees you, he can’t help but make his way over.

“Go ahead,” you respond in the appropriate volume, with a smile that makes your eyes shine as he sets his bag down, backpack thumping against the floor and causing all eyes to settle on him once again. He’s quick to pull out his own supplies as you turn back to your open textbook, highlighter gliding across the page every few minutes. Peter gets no work done, but he really can’t be blamed because how is he expected to focus when you’re so beautiful when you’re concentrating? Terrified of being caught staring, he turns back towards his blank page and scribbles some nonsense, hoping you don’t think he’s a complete weirdo.

He’s so focused on trying to look like he’s busy without actually doing anything that he doesn’t notice when you shut your textbook and slide it into your bag, and he nearly jumps out of his seat in shock when you lean forward to tap your knuckles against the table.

“Wanna grab lunch?” You ask, leaning across the table to keep your voice down but all Peter can focus on is how pretty your hair looks, illuminated from behind like an angel.

“Yeah, sure, that would be awesome,” he struggles to form any sort of concise or cohesive sentence, but you smile anyway, leaving him to miss your proximity as you straighten up and haul your backpack onto your shoulder.

It really is a beautiful day, and it seems like the entire city is in a good mood, celebrating the end of winter and the beginning of warm weather and sunshine. It won’t last long, and soon everyone will be angry and rude and hot and miserable, but for now, the weather is perfect and people smile as you walk past.

“I’m so ready for this semester to be over,” you say as you tilt your head upwards, like a flower seeking out the sun, and Peter’s so enamored he almost forgets to respond, until you sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye, your lips quirked up in a teasing smile, something less soft but no less beautiful than the smile he typically receives.

“Oh yeah, me too,” he manages to reply, your knuckles brushing against his as you swing your arms while you walk.

“Any big plans?” This time you tilt your head towards him, and the full force of your attention is almost too much, almost enough to make Peter’s heart stop and his brain shut down. He doesn’t trust his brain to create a full, coherent response, so he just shakes his head, smiling as you reply, “Me neither,” before he even gets the chance to ask.

The two of you stop by one of the many cheap takeout restaurants near the library, grabbing your food and finding a bench to enjoy the weather, keeping your head tilted up to the sun as if it’s truly magnetic, as if you don’t have a choice but to bloom. Peter tries his best to be a good conversationalist, but he’s got so many thoughts and feelings swirling through his brain that every time he looks at you, or can feel you looking at him, he’s unable to respond the way he wants to.

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh?” He asks rhetorically after stuttering over his words for what seems like the millionth time, “Must be how pretty you look.” He spares you a sideways glance, a little afraid to look at you fully, but he can’t help but grin when he sees your mouth open and close, silently attempting to form a response. He laughs and you follow suit, leaning against his side with the force of your giggles and sending him into a spiral all over again. You'd been on equal footing for a minute, but even as his heart pounds against his ribs and you straighten up again, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[loganjameshowlett]

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

02: FACTS DON'T DO WHAT I WANT THEM TO

pairing: peter parker/muntant!reader summary: you're getting good at pretending everything is normal. peter's getting less good at the very same. word count: 3.2k+

series masterlist | previous installment | next installment

When you woke up on Thursday, the bizarre scars were still uncomfortably present on your shoulder blades, and you kind of wished the SUV had finished the job. 

It was 3:07 PM when you rolled over– an action accompanied with a certain measure of full-body agony– and squinted blearily at your phone screen. 

“Shit,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and checking the time again. You had missed both of your classes for the day, and had to be over to the bodega in just under two hours for a shift. It was unlike you to oversleep, or to ever miss a class, and you tamped down the anxiety already bubbling in your chest about falling behind or missing something crucial. It was also unlike you to get fully run over by an SUV and live to tell the tale, you supposed. And it made for a hell of a good reason to have missed class, anyway. 

Your body felt like it belonged tucked into a bed in the ICU unit over in Bellevue. When you finally dragged it out of bed and in front of the mirror to check, the line of unsightly, discolored tire track bruises had bloated to cover most of the skin from your ribs down to your hips. The same wave of questions from the night before welled up in your mind, and just as the night before, you pushed them all away just as fast. You had enough sense to know you weren’t going to come to any meaningful answers standing on your own in the middle of your bedroom, and you had to shower and get ready for work, anyhow. Another place where you were not likely to get answers, so best not to think about the questions. 

By the time you were done with a near-scalding shower, your body was actually feeling mostly okay and you were well on your way to convincing yourself that whatever happened last night was a fluke. A one time thing. Yes, it was completely bizarre and should have been impossible by all accounts, but those were things you didn’t have to concern yourself with if it never happened again. A few decades from now, you’d probably think it had all been a particularly vivid dream, the way most people who glimpse one unexplainable thing in their lives and then nothing ever again do, and that was alright by you.  

***

“You’ll never guess what happened to me last night,” Mickey says, grinning and coming around the counter as soon as you came through the door. 

You stole my line, you wanted to say, but you were making a valiant effort at not devoting large quantities of brainpower to thinking about last night, so you didn’t. Instead, you walked behind the counter and shed your jacket on the plastic chair in the tiny storage-closet-turned-office, tossing a look Mickey’s way to show her you were listening to her story. 

“Two minutes away from my dorm, I ran into fucking Klara,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a roll of her wide brown eyes. “She has somehow gotten more fuckin’ unbearable than ever.”

“In other news, the sky is blue,” you interjected, and Mickey waved a hand dismissively. 

“That is not the point of the story,” Mickey said. “She stopped me on the path with her bullshit smalltalk for about thirty seconds before dropping that fucking Spider-Man had just swung through campus five minutes earlier!” 

“He has been known to do that,” you nodded. “Couple weeks ago he webbed up some finance frat loser who was trying to start fist fights with everyone who walked past him.” 

“Yeah, I know he’s around sometimes, but I have never seen him! And there I was last night, missing him by a matter of mere minutes.” Mickey huffed, dropping her chin onto her hand. 

“Your time will come, Mick,” you assured her. “And then you can try to flirt your way into his spandex, or whatever.”

“I will succeed in flirting my way into his spandex, thank you very much,” she responded haughtily, and despite your mood and the soreness still ebbing its way through your body, you laughed. 

Gary hopped up onto the counter, wending his way through Mickey’s arms, and then crossing over to do the same to yours. Absently, you sunk your fingers into his soft orange fur, gently scratching his little head. 

“Hey, you kinda look like shit. Did something happen?” Mickey asked, startling you out of the blank-gazed factory reset your brain was trying to accomplish. When you looked up at her, her head was tilted to the side, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. 

“If staying up most of the night doing homework counts as something happening, then yeah,” you shrugged. “This is just what a me approaching midterms looks like.” 

“Yeah… I guess that’s true,” she drawled, but you could tell by her voice that she wasn’t totally convinced. Mickey was your best friend, and years of telling each other everything without a second thought had culminated in both of you being able to easily tell when the other was, on those rare occasions, hiding something. And usually, as soon as Mickey seemed even marginally onto you, you would spill everything to her. But this time, you couldn’t say a thing. What even would you say? Nothing good could come out of telling her that you’d been run over by a car and then just… walked home. 

“Can we finally talk about how Josh McClellan is clearly coming in here several times a week just to see you?” you asked, trying to change the subject as smoothly as you were capable of. 

“Okay, so it’s not only me who was thinkin’ that?” Mickey launched into a play-by-play dissection of her interactions with the guy immediately, and you sank onto the stool behind the counter in relief of the attention no longer being on you. 

The rest of your shift passed mostly without incident. Mickey followed Gary around the bodega, harassing him with pets and occasionally fixing up or restocking a shelf or two. The after-work crowd even seemed a little less disgruntled than usual, which your hourly deteriorating people skills appreciated greatly. 

“Think we can bump off early?” Mickey asked, as the clock reached eleven. “It’s only an hour.”

“I wouldn’t do Mr. Browne like that, and neither should you,” you said, aiming  a scolding look at her over the shelves as you idly pushed a broom back and forth in front of the coolers. “And, ‘sides, this is the easiest hour of the shift. Basically nobody comes in between now and closing.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the bell above the door chimed. Mickey shot a told ya so look at you, before turning around to see who came in. 

“Oh– hey, Peter,” you greeted, eyes widening slightly as you realized it wasn’t just some random schmuck looking for mixers for their pregame. You knew this schmuck. Kind of. 

For his part, Peter froze in the door, looking a little too much like a prey animal for someone simply being recognized when they didn’t expect it. His eyes met yours, and he forced an awkward smile onto his face. 

“Hey,” he said your name, accompanied by a small wave. “I didn’t know you worked here.” 

“Didn’t come up while we were discussing your essay?” you asked, and Peter’s smile grew into something a little more embarrassed, cheeks pinking slightly as he ducked his head. 

“Sorry, that was stupid,” he said, wending his way through the aisles and clearly searching for something specific. You brought the broom back into the office and situated yourself behind the register for when Peter was ready to check out. Mickey met your eye from across the room as she hoisted Gary into her arms, giving you a look that was clearly asking what the fuck? You shrugged almost imperceptibly and looked away, but you could still feel her eyes on you. 

A few minutes later, Peter ambled up to the counter and set three different flavors of Celsius and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos down in front of you. Fascinating snack for this time of night. 

“Still on for tomorrow afternoon?” he asked as you began scanning his items. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you said, looking up to offer him a small smile. Up close, the bags under his eyes were so pronounced they looked like true bruises, and there was a pretty fresh cut almost completely hidden in his hairline. 

“You okay?”

The words came out of both of your mouths at the same time, followed by twin looks of confusion. 

“Me?” you asked, brow furrowing as you finished ringing him up. “Total’s $13.50, by the way.” 

“Yeah– uh, sorry–” Peter said, fishing a couple of bills out of his jacket pocket. “You just… it seemed like something might be wrong.” 

You blinked at him for a few seconds, frankly dumbfounded that he– a virtual stranger– was able to pick up on the general wrongness of the current state of your existence. Realizing you’d been quiet for a weird amount of time, you sucked in a breath and responded, “Oh, yeah, no, I’m good. Just exhausted, s’all– you know, finals coming up and everything.”

“Oh, sure,” he nodded, like it made complete sense. “Right there with you.”

“And, uh, what happened up–?” you asked, gesturing toward the cut along his hairline. You noticed then that the skin around it was starting to bruise. 

“Oh, that,” Peter said, bringing a hand up to ghost along the offending injury. “I was in the lab earlier for my, uh, my internship and there was a little accident. You know how labs are.”

“I really do not know how labs are,” you said, and the same embarrassed smile from earlier grew on his face. 

“Right. Yeah. Accidents are par for the course.”

“Well, make sure you dress that properly when you get home,” you said, fighting the urge to fuss over the wound. 

“First thing when I walk through the door,” he promised, and you nodded, satisfied, as you handed over his purchases. 

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, ‘night,” Peter said, waving as he took a few backward steps from the counter, before disappearing through the door. 

As soon as he was out on the sidewalk, Mickey materialized on the other side of the counter, red curls and freckled expression of shocked interest taking up your entire field of vision. “What the fuck was that?” 

***

You spent Friday morning valiantly trying to finish your biology work so that you actually had something for Peter to look over that afternoon. You figured that, honestly, bringing a blank lab worksheet to him would be just as useful as bringing one you filled in by yourself; it was like the synapses stopped firing in your brain when you opened up this stupid lab’s Canvas page. 

And anyway, your lack of ability to concentrate on anything that looked even remotely like STEM homework had become a hundred times worse since the Incident (you had taken to thinking of it as this: capitalized so as to be given proper weight, and named so that you never had to dwell on any of the details). Suddenly learning about plant tissue culture seemed entirely meaningless in the greater context of your increasingly bizarre life. 

Meaningless or not, you still had to pass the class. The universe worked in mysterious ways, and as you skimmed the same textbook page for the ninth time, absorbing not a single word, you thanked it for sending Peter Parker your way. 

When you reached the second floor of the library at five minutes to two, Peter was already sitting at the table the two of you had occupied the other day, general backpack detritus spread haphazardly across half the surface. He had a fresh printed copy of his edited essay in front of him, partially obscured by his arm resting on top of it, which was, in turn, supporting his head while he napped. 

You approached the table, dumping your bag in one of the empty chairs as gently as you could. Peter’s hair stuck up in all directions, and you noticed that the bruise blooming out from the cut along his hairline had matured into something nastier looking since the last time you saw him. 

For a moment, you stood awkwardly at the side of the table, waiting to see if he would wake up. You felt bad about the prospect of waking him– he clearly needed the sleep badly– and you briefly thought about just leaving and emailing him to set up a different time, but you knew he’d feel bad about it and selfishly, you needed to submit your lab by midnight. 

“Peter?” you asked, voice pitched low for the library. Hesitantly, you reached a hand toward his shoulder, unsure still of what you would do with it once it reached its destination, but just before your fingers brushed his sweatshirt, Peter’s head bolted up as if electrocuted. 

He took a few seconds to gaze, confused, about the room, before his eyes landed on you and a blush that was quickly becoming familiar pinked his cheeks. 

He said your name, half confused question and half surprised exclamation, and blinked up at you a few times as if trying to orient himself. 

“You alright?” you asked, moving to sit in the seat catty-cornered to his own. 

“Yeah, I’m all good, I– honestly, I can’t believe I  fell asleep here,” Peter answered, reassuring smile an afterthought. You watched how the smile dropped quickly and his brow furrowed, skin creasing above the bridge of his nose; he seemed far too concerned about accidentally falling asleep in the library. 

“I can’t tell you how many naps I’ve taken at this exact table, let alone the rest of the building,” you told him, tone light. You weren’t quite sure what about the situation had him so worried, but you hoped you could reassure him a bit anyway. “You wanna start with your essay, or my lab?” 

“Your lab deserves to go first,” Peter decided quickly. “What’s this one on?”

You attempted to explain the lab to the best of your ability, eventually giving up and handing over your entire biology folder so Peter could read it himself. For the next two hours, he talked you through each aspect of the lab– it felt like finding God, finally being able to understand something for this fucking class. 

Peter perked up with every question you asked him, as though getting the opportunity to explain biological concepts was literally reinvigorating him. His eyes brightened, his posture straightened– he was more confident than you’d ever seen him now that he was given the space to ramble about something he knew well. You were embarrassed to have to forcibly stop yourself from openly staring at him about half a dozen times. 

“Sorry, we got way off track at the end, there,” Peter said, suddenly cutting off a tangent about some research on chloroplasts that one of his internship colleagues was conducting. 

You waved him off, a genuine smile on your face. “Don’t be, I like listening to you. ‘Sides, I learned more from you this afternoon than I have from Dr. Katz the entire semester,” you said earnestly. 

Peter grinned, ducking his head a bit. “Well, I aim to educate and entertain, so I'm glad I hit on both of those today.”

“I really think you could have a future as Bill Nye’s successor with these skills, Parker,” you said solemnly, and Peter laughed. 

“With this kind of unwavering support, maybe I will be conducting science experiments on direct-to-videos being played in seventh grade biology classrooms all over the country very soon.”

“Maybe,” you nodded. “If you’re lucky.”

***

Three years into college, and Peter still hadn’t quite mastered balancing the student and hero halves of his life. 

Submitting work late and having no consistent social life were just, he guessed, par for the course. His entire life seemed to be made up of excuses, and he was helpless to change it. Mostly, it didn’t bother him. Being Spider-Man was just who he was; he wouldn’t give up any part of that for “the traditional college experience” or “having friends”. He shuffled his half-dead body between chem lectures and getting 18-wheelers thrown at him by the Rhino, and in the exceedingly rare moments of quiet between the two, he kept his head down. And that was that. He was good with that. 

And then he met you. 

He’d never needed a tutor before Professor Liu, and when he finally bit the bullet and asked her for help, he expected to be paired with some pretentious, Moby Dick reading, flowy blouse wearing poet who would eloquently tell him exactly how much of a dunce he was when it came to literary analysis. This probably wasn’t a fair assessment, but he didn’t know many English majors, and anyway, anyone who was held in such high esteem by Professor Liu was somebody whom, he assumed, he would never get along with in a million years. 

And then he’d shown up to tutoring, and there you were at the table in a giant sweatshirt, dog-eared book held open by one errant finger as you tapped at your keyboard, and you’d remembered his name right off the bat and smiled at him– one of those patient, encouraging smiles that could make anyone open up about anything– and somewhere between breaths the tutoring session had become the highlight of his week. 

He’d left with the guarantee of seeing you again in a few days, and then it was like his brain got the flu because all he could think about, any time he idled, was you, and how you laughed at all his stupid jokes and were so casually witty and– honestly, the torrent was never ending (not that he was trying to end it very hard) and maybe worryingly distracting (he’d only missed the broad side of a building with his webs once, and he rebounded before he became a stain on the pavement, so really, no harm no foul). 

He thought he was hallucinating when he walked into a bodega at random after a surprisingly nasty spat with a would-be car thief, spandex still on under his jacket and a pair of sweatpants, and there you were, too, name tag pinned to your sweater and broom in your hand, existing in your own right away from the library, which was, for some reason, a shock to him. He said something stupid (a curse he was sure he would never get rid of) and had to fumble his way through normalcy even when you, through what you claimed to be exhaustion but was pinging his spidey senses as something much more, noticed his little bump on the head and asked if he was okay. His heart had done a painful, spasmodic little dance at the thought that you cared enough to ask, and he didn’t really know what to do with that. 

Sitting on this rooftop was becoming frigid, and all he could think about was your hand touching his when you handed him back his change, and your voice so earnestly saying I like listening to you. 

God, but he was fucked.

[theorphicangel]

“𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”

[ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ]

tags: strangers to lovers, roommate au!, best friends brother, fluff, mutual pining, smut, 18+

synopsis: In a desperate search of a new roommate, you have little to no choice but to accept your best friend's / best barista in the world's offer of letting his older brother rent out the room, who just so happens to be conventionally attractive.

You swear nothing will happen between the two of you but one thing eventually leads to another and you find yourself in his bed, leading to an unofficial roommates with benefits situation.

You know deep down it's wrong and you're worried when you start catching feelings...but it's okay because it's only temporary, right?

séries | previous chapter | next chapter

chapter two: two turtle doves (that awkwardly get along)

You were right about not expecting to receive a reply from Gabriel.

You had actually tried to call him a few times, yet it ended up going to voicemail. Your best bet would be that he actually turns up for work today.

On returning back to your apartment last night, you had tried the best you could to remind yourself that you were living in an empty space again. Remembering to not make a meal for two, remembering to switch off the lights, remembering not to turn your head searching for someone to listen to the random thought that had just popped up in your head. It was hard. You couldn’t lie about that.

But with it especially being the holiday season, you can’t help but feel the prickles of loneliness brush up at your skin as you skim through the shows and movies to watch, with all the recommended Christmas romance movies popping up on the home page. Being petty, you turned off the tv and decided to give yourself an early night.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’ve decided to decorate your apartment this upcoming weekend for Christmas. Due to MJ’s moving you would’ve had it done all up last week, but instead you were focused on helping her pack during her last few days at the apartment.

Checking the time, it’s currently 8:15am and you’re on your way to O’Hara’s. As you stroll down the busy streets of New York city, you can’t help but cross your fingers and pray to the gods above that Gabriel is in for his shift today. You don’t think you could really stand another cup of terrible coffee, no matter how compassionate you’re feeling.

Stepping into O’hara’s, the familiar ding of the bell above the door announces your arrival. Once again, it’s a small queue and you can’t help but notice the familiar cheery tone of the barista which most certainly contrasts the rough, bored voice which you had heard yesterday.

A wave of relief fills your body as you move to the front of the queue, a smile spreading across your lips.

“Buenos días.” Gabriel greets with a smile, “Did ya’ miss me yesterday?”

“Pftttttt of course not.” you murmur. “It’s not like I’d much rather the new barista yesterday who had made the world’s worst cup of coffee word to man– I don’t even know if I can call that a coffee.” you grunt, pulling a disgusted face.

Gabriel lets out a loud laugh as he taps in your regular into the till without even asking you. “You must be talking about my brother, Miguel, m’sorry about that, he was called in as an emergency. We’re low on staff.”

Your face drops at Gabriel’s words. “Your brother?! Oh shit m’sorry—”

Gabriel waves his hand at you, stopping you mid sentence. “Don’t be, we all know he’s shit. Mama couldn’t find a replacement at the last minute so she was desperate.”

“And it was an emergency?” you repeat, crossing your arms as you look him up and down.

“It’s not my fault that I got forcefully dragged to a bar against my own free will!” He exclaims. “It was bottomless Wednesday!”

You hum in response not really believing him. “So that was really your brother then?” Grabiel nods.

At the sounds of footsteps behind him, Gabriel turns his head and then quickly turns back.

“Oh, speaking of the diablo.” He mutters before calling out to his brother. “Oi Miggy, no vas a creer lo que esta chica dijo de ti." [you won’t believe what this girl said about you]

“¿Qué?”

“That you’re shit at making coffee.”

“If you’re gonna continue complaining about me then I’m not coming in to help you next time, Gabi.”

“I’ll tell mama.”

“Uh–huh.” Miguel hums in an unbelieving tone.

Now that you had Miguel standing next to his brother, you could really see their similarities and you almost wanted to kick yourself for not spotting it beforehand. They were almost the spitting image of each other, though Gabi was a little shorter and Miguel seemed to be like a total gym rat in comparison.

Miguel now looks at you, deadpanned as he was the previous day. “I’m sorry about the coffee yesterday—”

“Oh no worries, it was fine.” you lied.

“I mean, it would’ve been better if someone had actually taught me how to use the machines.” Miguel says.

“It’s common sense in my opinion.” Gabi replies hastily.

“Good thing no one asked you for your opinion.”

“Ay, callate.”

“Whatever.” Miguel trails off to the backrooms, tired of the conversation, muttering the excuse that more oat milk is needed.

“Ignore him. He’s a dick but you’ll get used to it once you’re around him more.”

“Is he working here permanently?” you ask, curious about the mysterious older brother, “You never spoke much about him, Gabi.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t around a lot. He was at university doing his post-graduate degree at Stanford Uni–”

“Stanford?” you practically shout out the word, a few heads turn in the cafe to look at you.

“Hey, keep your voice down.” Gabi warns. “But yeah, yeah, studying genetics or whatever he’s obsessed with at the moment. He’s moved back in with us…in fact that’s what I wanted to tell you—”

“Hold on, hold on, you can’t just move away from the fact that your brother just graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in the country.”

“He got a funding grant–”

“A funding gran–”

“Shhhh!”

You mouth the words, “fucking hell.” to yourself.

“Yep, he’s truly raising the standard for the family.” Gabriel awkwardly chuckles. “It’s weird having him around after being gone for so long but…” Gabriel looks back through the door to the backroom, there’s a sound of things falling and spanish curses which echo from the storage room. “I’m glad he’s back and so is mama, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

You hum along, your expression becoming soft. “Just make sure you teach him how to make good coffee now.” Gabriel chuckles loudly at your comment.

You turn your head and scan the cafe. Your eyes widen. Today, it seems will be a good day as your favorite spot in the corner is available today. Making your way over Gabriel doesn’t take long to come over with your drink.

“Anyways chica, I saw your missed calls and—”

“Oh, did you?” You say aloud sarcastically, playfully swatting him on the arm, “And you didn’t think to be bothered to reply to me? After three years of my loyal friendship this is how you repay me?”

“Okay, one: ow!” He pointed a finger at you. “And two: it wasn’t like that. It was bottomless Wednesday and don’t reprimand me because I’ve already had that from my mother and my brother.”

“Serves you right.” you snort.

“As I was saying, if you’d ever let me speak.” he says, still wincing. “I have good news and bad news regarding your roommate situation.”

“Oh…”

“So, what do you want first, the good news or the bad?” Gabriel offers.

You take a sip of your coffee first as you debate.

“The good news first please.”

“I found you a roommate.”

“Really?!” you exclaimed, your face lighting up with excitement. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“As serious as I can be.” Gabriel wincing again as you hit his arm. “You really have to stop doing that to me.”

“Maybe I can forgive you for ignoring me yesterday.“ you mutter to yourself, a smile now tugging at your lips. “So what’s the bad news?” You’d think that after hearing that good news you can barely think how you would even be affected by the bad news now.

Gabriel points back to the counter, where Miguel stands serving another customer. His face is currently in a state of pure confusion, as his fingers aggressively tap at the till.

“That’s your new roommate.”

Your face dropped as Gabriel’s words sunk in.

“Are you–”

“Serious? Yes, yes I am.” He exhales. “But look, he really needs someone to cheer him up.” You raise a brow at his sentence.

“Listen, but you didn’t hear this from me so this stays between us, okay?” Gabriel held out his pinky finger in front of you.

“Okay.” your promise, not hesitating to join your own pinky finger with his. Gabriel twists a little, as if to seal the promise for definite.

“He wasn’t really meant to come back at all, not even for the Christmas period. It was just random. His roommate back in California moved out and he had no choice but to move back with us because the rent is so skyhigh over there— but anyways, his girlfriend also broke up with him and he never really said why but I just think she can’t be bothered going long distance. Buttttt to be honest who would? Miggy is so boring over text, like I don’t even think he can understand the meaning of emojis–”

“Wait, so he needs a place to stay?” You interrupt, your brain trying to process all this information.

Gabriel nods, “And for someone to cheer him up!” he adds. “Pleaseeeeee, you’d be doing a really big favor for me, it’s so awkward between him and my mom, they’ve barely spoken since he’s moved back in. In fact since he left for uni I’m not even sure that they spoke at all. But please get this tension away from me.”

“What makes you think that I’ll be able to cheer him up?”

Just from looking at him you could already tell that he's a grinch. Totally miserable. A total opposite to what you had with MJ.

“Because you’re you andddd it’s only temporary. That’s another piece of good news actually. By New Year's he’ll probably find a place of his own.”

You wince as you repeat the word. “Temporary.” Another roommate who’s ready to leave before even signing the lease.

“I know that he’s not the ideal roommate but it’s just something for now whilst you look for someone a little bit more permanent.”

You hum at him in agreement. It does take the stress of your back for now….what’s the worst that could happen?

“Por favor, ¿para mí, mi dulce mujer?” Gabriel pulls the one trick move that you can’t resist.

[please, for me, my sweet woman]

The puppy dog eyes.

You let out a sigh as he stares at you, curling his bottom lip which makes you roll your eyes even more.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

/

“Do you want help with that?”

You wince at Miguel carrying four large boxes in one hand. You can’t see his face, his large veiny hands gripping the bottom stack of the boxes.

“No, gracias.” he mumbles, managing to lug them all to his room without a struggle. You knew he was a…big guy, but you still felt uncomfortable at his refusal for your help. Miguel left you no choice but to stand in the corner awkwardly as you watched him make multiple journeys to and fro the apartment.

It had all happened so quickly. Once you had agreed to let him move in, Miguel agreed to sign the contract the next day, albeit it was only for one month. At least that gives you more time to look for a future tenant for next year.

Once he was all moved in, you both awkwardly waited for one another to speak. Thankfully, he began first.

“I guess I’ll go…tidy up my stuff.”

You nod apprehensively. “Right. Uhhh, dinner's at six if you want it.” Miguel nods along too, not adding anything more to the conversation and disappearing into his room.

At six, he didn’t emerge. You knocked on his door as a reminder and a muffled voice replied indicating that he was busy.

You know you shouldn’t take it personally, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of loneliness that surrounded you despite having a new roommate. You let out a deep exhale as you ate at the kitchen table alone.

This was going to be one long Christmas.

taglist: lmk if you would like to be tagged!

@nakimushiohime @keidilla

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me: Tea For Two Deleted Scene

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her, “Sarge”, British, backstory)

Category: coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Your lieutenant joins you for a cup of tea.

Warnings: tension, banter, flirting, mention of dead hamster, mask is off, domestic Ghost (he sits and has tea), Ghost doing normal things (he sits and has tea), British terminology/slang

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME!! 🥳🥳 I cannot believe I started it so long ago, it’s crazy. This is for everyone who has read, enjoyed and supported me along the way. This takes places directly after the first chapter.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The door of your flat creaked open, accompanied by the awful sound of your keys falling out of the lock and crashing to the floor uncermoniously. You winced at the sound but said nothing, sticking your foot out to prevent the door from slamming closed again right onto your face. You didn’t need a broken nose right now. The hinges were loose but you couldn't be bothered to tell your landlord, or fix it yourself, since you weren't even living there most of the time.

You stepped into your flat quickly, ushering your lieutenant in behind you. "Welcome to my humble abode." 

Ghost went to close the door behind him but stopped when it just swung shut by its own accord.

"Very humble." You re-iterated. It wasn't the Ritz, that was for sure.

He made no comment on the state of the door, despite clearly having some thoughts if the slight frown on his face was any indication.

"You live alone?" He asked, taking a nice long look around at your flat. You wondered if he was judging the trinkets scattered all over the place and the lack of real decor.

You nodded, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and hanging it over the back of a chair. "Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back." 

You missed Señor Duncan.

He blinked at you slowly and said nothing so you rushed off into the kitchen with your bags clasped tightly in your hands to make the tea and avoid further awkward conversation. You tried desperately to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

But he had other ideas. As you turned to get the milk out of the fridge, Ghost was stood in your doorway watching you.

"You can sit down, lieutenant." You assured him, not needing him hovering as you made the two cups of tea. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He took a moment to answer. "Here to make sure you make my tea right."

You scoffed. "I know how you take it, sir."

The double meaning of that statement hung in the air between you for a few seconds.

"I've seen you make tea about a million times on base so..." The clarification probably didn't help you. In fact, it made the previous sentence even more glaring.

"Okay." He nodded. "I trust you."

The way he said it wasn't convincing.

The kettle clicked behind you but you ignored it.

"Got any biscuits?"

You shook your head. "Nothing you’ll like, no."

"Hmm." 

"Sorry." Your jaw clenched tight.

"Don't be sorry."

You broke off the staring contest that was happening between you, knowing he'd probably win in the end anyway, and turned around to actually make the two of you a drink.

The thought that this may have been a bad idea plagued you as you watched the teabags drown in the boiling water. You were just trying to be friendly. Maybe friendly with your lieutenant wasn't good. Although, he agreed to come. So some of this was on him.

Ghost was silent behind you but you assumed he was still there. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, the hairs on your neck and arms standing up on end. When you were done, you turned to find him stood a lot closer to you than he had been just a minute or so prior.

His hand was stretched out ready to take the mug from you. "Thank you, sergeant."

"You're welcome, lieutenant." You croaked back at him, unprepared for how close he was. You could smell him, the distance was that small. You begrudgingly admitted to yourself internally that he smelt nice. Of course he did. You avoided looking at how his hands enveloped the cup you'd handed to him. "Umm, living room?"

“Not going to put your things away?” He lazily gestured at the bags sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Oh… it can wait a while.”

He nodded and followed you as you swerved around him, mouthing oh my god to yourself as you walked away. In the lounge, you settled on the sofa and were not surprised in the slightest when he chose to sit in the other chair, his large frame consuming the cushions almost completely. He looked comical.

There was a brief moment of tense silence between you and just as you opened your mouth to say something, say anything, he cut in.

"Want a chocolate digestive?"

Your teeth clicked shut. "Uh, sure!"

Sipping on your tea to hide your face behind the mug at the way-too-upbeat tone of your response, you burnt your tongue on the scalding liquid. Luckily, your lieutenant was too distracted by pulling the pack of biscuits out of the carrier bag at his feet that he didn't take any notice of you.

When he held out the packet to you, you tentatively took one and started nibbling on the edge. You were really unsure of what to do with yourself. Think. Just think of something to say.

"So, what does Lieutenant Simon Riley do for fun when he's on leave?"

Idiot.

"Not this." He grumbled.

"Not what?" Of course he didn't do this, this was the first time this had happened.

"Socialising."

Oh.

"Then why did you agree to come here?" You asked, frowning. Seemed a bit silly to you honestly.

Ghost said nothing, just stared back at you.

So you filled the silence by rambling. "You didn't have to. Just because I asked you to. Don't feel forced or anything. I mean, like, you never listen to me in the field. So why is it different out here? Don't think you have to be polite. I'm a grown woman, I can take no for an answer."

"Christ, you talk a lot."

You frowned. "Sorry."

"Between you and Johnny I don't know how I don't get more headaches."

"Charming." You snapped back despite the pull of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

He continued on. "Without the two of you I'd get some silence once in a while."

"How boring."

"How peaceful."

"Overrated.” You waved your hand in a dismissive motion. “I think a couple of hyper sergeants are a lot more fun."

"If you'd like." He took a mouthful of his tea and you wondered if he was hiding anything behind the cup. A smile, a smirk, just something. Probably not.

You decided to pry. "You never answered my question."

He sighed. "What question?"

"What do you do when you're on leave?"

"What do you imagine I do when I'm on leave, hm?" He evaded the question by shooting back one of his own. Tricky bastard.

You shrugged. "Mope at home all day probably." 

"Mope." He repeated back to you.

"You seem like a moper."

He didn't reply.

"I think it's a fair assessment."

"Based on what?"

You barked out a short laugh. "Based on everything!"

"For all you know I could be the life of the party when on leave." He drained the rest of the tea from his mug in a few steady gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your mouth hung open for a second as you watched.

"You just admitted you don't like to socialise. Or like how loud me and Soap can be. I seriously doubt you're the life of any party." You deadpanned, noticing how your cup was still mostly full.

"Should I take offence to that, sergeant?" He asked, resting his own cup between his knees.

Your eyes flickered down towards it. "Didn't say it was a bad thing necessarily."

"But it can be?"

"If you're boring in general, I guess."

"I see."

Your back straightened in defence. "I'm not calling you boring, sir! In fact, I think you're rather interesting. I was just saying it can be bad if you are always boring. Which you are not."

"This might be my cue to leave, you don't seem so sure." His head tilted to the side. "Very enthusiastic to prove you don't think I'm boring. Too enthusiastic."

"That's just my general demeanour." 

He nodded. "I'm aware."

"Now I feel like I should be insulted."

"And why's that?"

"You seem disgusted."

He repeated your words back to you. "That's just my general demeanour."

So you did the same. "I'm aware."

"Hm, clever." He grunted, glancing down at the empty mug. "I should probably go."

"If you want." You watched him shift in his seat.

His eyes shot back up to meet yours. "Kicking me out, sergeant?"

"No. Just not going to insist that you stay if you want to leave."

He nodded and looked around the room. "You should get another hamster."

What an odd thing to say.

"Why?" You questioned, putting your cup down on the coffee table and gesturing for him to do the same.

"You're a social creature. Could probably use the company."

"A social creature. Gee, thanks." You rolled your eyes at him. "I have friends, y'know?"

"Seen 'em since you've been home?"

"Haven't had the opportunity yet." You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"Mhm." He hummed, not needing to say anything to get his point across.

You didn't even bother responding, what good would it do? You just watched him rise from the seat and pick up his plastic bag of stuff, following him when he started towards the front door.

Neither of you exchanched pleasantries as you opened the door and held it open with your foot, you didn't need to pretend that this was anything less than awkward and slightly odd altogether. There was no oh this was nice we should it again sometime. The exchange was very short.

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No, I don't live too far."

"Okay."

Silence.

Tense silence.

"Goodbye, lieutenant."

"Goodbye, sergeant."

And then he was gone.

A/N: thanks for reading!!

[abbeym28]

Carry Me Out

In which you and Satoru realize you don't know what to get Megumi for his birthday, and in which Satoru comes up with a simple way on how to know.

Third drabble, could be read stand alone again! Sorry this took so long to get out! Almost 2,000 words! This has been a work in progress for a while, and to be honest, I have no idea why I finished it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Megumi’s birthday was coming up.

You’ve been there for two of his birthday’s, but this year, he was turning ten. Obviously, this was a very big deal for you and Satoru.

The problem you are facing is that when the two of you asked what he had wanted, Megumi just shrugged and told you that he wanted what he would normally get. (Which since being under the care of Satoru, was pretty much a mix of money, books, toys, candy, or other things Megumi was interested in. Sometimes he asks for things for his dogs, so treats, balls and chew toys will occasionally be added to the pile.)

So, a week before the day of your adopted son’s birth, you and Satoru held a private meeting between the two of you to brainstorm.

“I think he said he wanted monster high dolls. And some pokemon cards, as well as a disk copy of that latest Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle iteration. Also, a day spent looking at candy shops.” your ever-so-helpful boyfriend was lying down across the length of your shared bed.

You hit him with one of your pillows as you paced around, anxiously tapping a pen onto a notepad. “Satoru, those are all things you want.” you paused, thinking a bit for a little. “But actually, I will put monster high dolls down. I think I caught him staring at the Sweet 1600 Clawdeen the last time we went to Target.” You jotted a few notes and then looked back at Satoru.

His arms were settled behind his head and his eyes were closed, his sunglasses placed on his bedside table. Satoru still smiled as he confidently whispered, “See, I’m helpful.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned before you flopped down next to him, face first. Satoru began rubbing small circles onto your back and you turned your head to look at him. His blue eyes stared back into yours, which was slightly alarming and caught you way off guard.

“I know this is super important, but you should take it down a notch. It’s not good for your skin.” You sighed.

“Satoru, it's Megumi’s 10th birthday. Two digits! My skin doesn’t matter as much as him having a good birthday.” He pulled you closer to him and he pressed a kiss onto the top of your head.

“Okay, you know what? I’ll talk to him. Maybe, all he wants for his birthday is some quality time with daddy, the strongest sorcerer and man in the whole wor-”

Satoru wasn’t able to finish his sentence before a pillow hit him in the face and you were out of the room.

Satoru decided that the best way to get answers is to catch Megumi off guard.

So, he was going to do something he hadn't ever done before- pick him up from school. At first, he had left it up to Nanami to drive his kids around, but pretty soon it was you who took up that spot.

He had to admit, something about watching three of the people he loved most come crashing through his front door, all in a mess to shed off school related things just to get a snack quickly, warmed his heart up in way’s he figured would never be possible.

Satoru leaned onto his (expensive) car door, arms crossed in front of his chest, a smirk on his lips as he greeted other random parents who were also waiting for their kids.

The sun was beating down pretty bright onto his face, extra bright from the reflecting of the white snow all over the ground, so even with his sunglasses he almost missed the school doors opening. But, he did have his six eyes and multiple other powers that allowed him to doge the punch Megumi had thrown at his knees.

“Why are you here?” Megumi went in for another swig and a kick, but Satoru picked him up before he could. Megumi squirmed as his dad placed a wet kiss on his cheek.

“I’m here to pick you up! Aren’t you so happy?”

“Dad!!!”

“Tsumiki!!!”

Satoru placed down Megumi so he could sweep up his daughter, who was running right at him, matching huge smiles on both of their faces.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is great, ‘Miki. Just figured you guys would want to see my face a little sooner than normal.”

Tsumiki giggled as Satoru pressed a bit more of a softer kiss onto her face.

“All right, let's get in the car and go home! Snacks are waiting for you.” He set Tsumiki down in the back seat, buckling her in and then patting her shoulder. Satoru shut the door and then jogged to the other side of the car where Megumi was struggling to reach the door handle and get in.

Satoru opened the door and smiled at him, but Megumi just scowled and climbed up, using all of his strength to get in the seat and buckle himself. The drive started quiet, the jolly holiday music softly playing from the stereo.

“So…. Megumi. Your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it? Is there something you would like?” Satoru looked at his son through the rearview mirror.

Megumi grumbled something, too low for even his sister to catch.

“What was that, oh sweetest child of mine?”

“I said I want you to disappear.” Tsumiki gasped and Satoru tutted as he made a turn, getting closer to home.

“How about you make a list! All of the things you want, all on one paper! It would make both of your parents very happy!” Satoru’s sing song voice made Megumi scoff.

“Megumi! That is such a good idea!” Tsumiki spoke excitedly.

Megumi turned towards her fast while a smile grew larger on the dads face.

“We can work on it together! I’ll help you! Oh my gosh, this will be so much fun!” Megumi’s expression soured.

This, he thought, would not be fun.

You were doing dishes when you heard the loud crashing that walked through your front door. Wiping your hands on a towel, you walked over to find your family struggling to take off your boyfriend's shoe, the left one.

Well , Tsumiki was trying to help.

Megumi was repeatedly hitting Satoru in the leg with his small light up sneakers.

“You have big fat feet! Get out of my way!” You couldn't help but giggle as Megumi yelled at Satoru.

“Gumi, there’s hot chocolate on the table for you. How ‘bout you leave your dad alone for now, hmm?” Megumi’s eyes brightened despite his continued grumbling as he left Satoru standing, still struggling to get his shoe off.

“Is there one for me too?” Tsumiki perked up, stars surrounding her as she asked you that.

“Of course!” She yelled a quick hooray before running after her younger brother. You moved closer to your boyfriend as a pout settled onto his face.

“How did you even get your shoe stuck on?” Kneeling down, you laughed at him as you tried to loosen the laces a bit, tugging on a few places to help widen the hole that still was hugging his ankle.

“They must be older than I thought.” Satoru shrugged. “Are they always more happy to see hot chocolate than they are to see me?”

There was a slight hint of jealousy and pettiness in his tone, making this even more hilarious for you.

“Hey, stop laughing! This is a really serious situation!” The shoe you were pulling on popped off, making you fall back a bit. Before you really could though, Satoru attached one of his hands to the area just between the middle of your back and your waist.

“Oh! You got my shoe off! Thanks hun!” He pressed a kiss onto your cheek and then tugged you up, keeping you in place in front of him, still in the doorway. “Anyway, I had a genius idea! Megumi’s going to make a birthday list!" There was a pause that was filled with silence.

"Tell me that I’m a genius please.”

You snorted as a response to his need to inflate his ego. “That is smart, good job Toru.” You put your hand on his cheek and he seemed to snuggle into your palm as a smug smile grew on his lips.

“Do the kids have paper? You should probably get some down for them.” Your brows furrowed as you moved away from him (killing the moment in the process) and towards the dining table where both your son and daughter were nursing their hot drink as they watched Sofia the First on the tv Satoru set up on a portion of the huge kitchen counter.

You pressed a soft kiss on both of the tops of their heads before getting some markers and then sitting down besides them.

“Honey! I got the paper!” Satoru came back over to you guys, pressing a wet and loud kiss onto you and Tsumiki’s cheeks before getting hit in the face by Megumi.

“Stay away from me, old man.” Satoru’s expression turned from ecstatic into despair as he sat down in the chair next to you, his head finding home on your shoulder as he and his son engaged in a glaring match.

“Still salty, huh? You literally have hot chocolate!”

“I don’t enjoy seeing your face right when I get out of school. Don’t you think you've extended your stay here?”

“This is my house! And I’m on vacation. You will be as well, so prepare to see me even more!” Megumi stuck out his tongue which caused Satoru to huf and to bury his face more into your collarbone.

“Are you sure he deserves a good birthday?” He muttered to you. You pushed him off of you (which was a bit of a struggle) and slid the papers and markers to be in front of Megumi. He gave you the cutest confused look you have ever seen.

“It’s for your wish list sweet boy. You can write whatever you want on there.” He nodded, a little bit of blush colored his cheeks.

You could almost also think that he was excited.

Megumi handed his list to you after you had tucked him in and read him his favorite children's book about dogs. He didn't say anything when he did, so you took it with a thank you and an I love you.

You settled into your own shared bed with Satoru after you had done all of your nightly routines. The lamp from your bed side table was alight when you decided to read your son's list.

“So? Are his demands doable?” Satoru slid into the sheets beside you and pulled himself closer to you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist in the process.

“Most of them are. He is really good at making lists, it turns out.” Satoru hummed as you continued to skim through Megumi’s scribble writing. It was the second to last one there that made you pause.

A day with my family doing fun stuff.

The words were drawn on slightly lighter than the other items on the list.

He spelt doing with a b.

All of the letters were closer together and looped, as if he didn’t actually want you to see what he had written.

All of those things melted your heart for some strange reason.

“Hmmm. That was cute of him.” Satoru cuts through your thinking with his slightly teasing words. “Oh. look at the last one!”

And so you did, only to find a less sweet wish, but still as cute as the one before it.

Replace Satoru with a dog.

[prodigaldaughteralice]

So, I was tipped off a while ago by a post that’s probably still in my queue (I have a long reblog queue u_u;; ) that a few words were changed in the US edition of Monstrous Regiment. As it’s my favourite Discworld book, and I’d only ever read the US edition, I tracked down a second-hand UK first edition online and had a re-read as soon as it came, with my battered old US edition next to me so I could check when anything pinged me as ‘off’. Here’s what I found, not counting minor UK->US spelling changes like turning “girlie” into “girly”.

(There may be more that I missed, I didn’t have both copies open the whole time, but I’m pretty familiar with this book. As my sister teased me about when I mentioned I’d done this comparison, I did have it in my bed for several years as a teenager so I could reread it whenever my insomnia was hitting particularly hard.)

Spoilers from here on out, of course.

The first two are just kind of pointless? Changing “coprolite” to “coprolith”, which is just a less common word for the exact same thing, and changing “riff-riff-raff” to “riffraff” feels like they forgot Jackrum was playing drunk in that scene. Whatever. These don’t bother me.

There are a few UK->US type changes in the next one (“wooly vest” to “woolen undershirt”) which similarly feel pointless to me, but what really gets my goat is the last word. “The man’s bare chests,” plural, being changed to “the man’s bare chest”. Because that’s foreshadowing, but it’s not a giveaway, because on a heavier (cis) guy they do hang separate. It’s a nice little touch, and they took it out.

The next one is the one I’d been tipped off to, and it’s the change I’m the most annoyed about. “Turned her chair to the fire/around him the kitchen worked” -> “turned her chair to the fire/around her the kitchen worked.” I’m sure whatever editor changed it didn’t do so with any kind of malice or agenda, they just weren’t paying enough attention and thought they were fixing a continuity mistake, but it’s just such beautiful writing that they removed.

Because they’ve just had this incredible, delicate, vulnerable conversation about the girl Jackrum left behind him, and that that girl was him, and that he has a son out in Scratz and he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s leaving the army. Polly cries. And it’s Polly who suggests that he really can remain Jack Jackrum, he can go back to his son in medals and braid and be his father, and Jack gets to really settle in to the idea that he can be happy that way. Both those pronouns being “her” doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily; I always read it as Polly processing. But the switch between the two sentences is so beautiful. It’s a gentle closing of the conversation, it’s that girl being fully put behind him, and Sergeant Major Jack Jackrum (retired) getting to go on with his life.

The last one is just… odd. Inexplicable, and it’s the hardest to explain as just an editorial accident. They added a word that specifies something that was not previously specified. “One of them was Maladicta, in full uniform” becomes “one of them was Maladicta, in full female uniform.” I was thinking about it on this reread, and Mal is the only member of the squad who wasn’t publically outed at the Keep. Mal wasn’t involved in the actual raid— too busy gibbering and sucking on a sack of coffee beans— and at the trial Mal kind of stood in the back vibrating from caffeine overdose. Even Jackrum said “with vampires, who cares”. Only Polly knows about Maladicta.

And what that means is that Mal is the only member of the squad who could reasonably remain presenting as male in the army. Polly encourages a couple of young recruits in the very end that it’s their choice to enlist as men or as women, with Mal right beside her, and I think the original ambiguity there is really lovely— it doesn’t matter if Mal has an ‘a’ on the end at the moment, because Mal is there to help Polly fuck shit up, and that’s what matters. By adding the specificity, they just… took away a really nice bit of subtext, a really nice effect.

So yeah, I’m ticked off as a queer person about the (minor) subversion of the book’s general gender fuckery, but I’m almost more ticked off as a writer. Pratchett was so talented, and we talk about it a lot on a large scale of themes and motifs and characters, but he was also just so fantastic on a sentence to sentence level. This is craft! This is really beautiful, delicate writing, elegantly put together and perfected, and some US editors just. Took out some of it. And it’s still an incredible book! As I mentioned, I had it in my bed for years as a teenager so I could reread it over and over, it means a ton to me, it’s my favourite of his work and I love his work! But it hurts to see these little places where it was originally even better.

[marie-swriting]

Waste Of Time - Jake "Hangman" Seresin [1/2]

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : You can't stop reminiscing your relationship with Jake despite your break up.

Warnings : angst, sad ending, Jake being a dick, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 1.9k

Song inspiration : Things I Wish You Said by Sabrina Carpenter

Sitting on your bed, you’re holding your phone in front of you with Jake’s contact picture on the screen. You’re so excited to talk to him again that you have a big smile on your face. You’re currently on deployment so you haven’t been able to communicate properly with your boyfriend for the past few days. 

After a few seconds, Jake’s face appears and you see he’s sitting on his couch.

“Hey, I’m sorry for not calling earlier, it’s crazy out here.” you apologise.

“Don’t worry, I totally get how complicated it can be to call.”

“Anyway, what’s up?”

“Not much, it’s pretty calm.” Jake says before avoiding your gaze. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I… Look,” he nervously starts and you stand up, fearing what’s about to come next, “I don’t know how to tell you this so I’m just gonna rip the bandage off; we should break up.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“It’s not you, I swear, it’s me.”

“What kind of bullshit is this?” you say, angry and confused. “Everything is fine between us. I don’t understand why you want to break up. Did I do something?”

“No, like I said, it’s not you. I just want to focus on my career and-”

“And what? I’m some kind of distraction? You can’t be in a relationship and work like a big boy?” you retort, annoyed.

“You’re mad and I understand it but it’s for the better.” Jake calmly replies which makes you even angrier.

“Clearly.”

“Y/N, you’re a good person, I don’t want you to doubt it for one second.”

Jake’s sentence should bring you some kind of comfort and yet, it just makes you turn on him even more. You don’t even look at your phone anymore, a million emotions going through your head. You don’t know if you’re more devastated or mad. Understanding it’s of no use to insist, Jake sighs before talking one last time:

“I’m gonna leave you alone now.”

You glance at your phone again, waiting for Jake to say something else and yet, nothing comes. Jake doesn’t even add a “I’m sorry” before hanging up, leaving you in your bedroom alone and in a heavy silence. You keep your eyes on your phone, still in shock by what just happened. You can’t grasp it. 

You met Jake four months ago and everything happened so quickly, but you both didn’t mind it. Some people tried to warn you by telling you about his reputation with women, nevertheless you ignored them. You and Jake clicked instantly and that’s what mattered. And also, you’re not going to lie, he knew how to get you hooked in one conversation. You felt like it was the same for him, that Jake was as attached to you as you were to him, now, you have some doubts. What bothers you the most is that your relationship was becoming more serious - until now. You were seeing each other whenever you could, you even talked about owning a house together. You had begun to imagine a future together and with just one phone call, Jake threw it all away.

That night, you don’t shed a tear. You tell yourself you made this phone call up. Though, the next morning, once you wake up without Jake’s usual morning text wishing you a good day, you realise it was, indeed, real and you break down the second you come home from work. Never had your heart known such heartbreak, it didn't see it coming.

Five months passed since this sinister call. Every night, your last conversation is stuck in your head, you think back to your relationship with Jake, searching for what you could have done wrong and the more you think about it, the more you realise you always put more energy in this relationship than Jake did. Now, you consider yourself stupid for hoping for something beautiful when you had been warned that Jake couldn’t commit to someone. You thought you were different. You are not. You find yourself even more pathetic because Jake is always in your head. Even when he’s not with you anymore, he still manages to make you waste your time. 

Tonight is another proof of it. You ran into Jake at a Navy event. Unfortunately for you, you saw Jake there and now, here you are, laying on your bed, thinking back to him and this event and more specifically the moment you saw him in the parking lot when you left the party, a moment that won’t leave your mind for the next several days.

You went to this event without much conviction. You were accompanied by your new friend Scott whom you had met during your last mission.

At first, you didn’t want to be here, then you saw Jake and the second you recognised his laugh from the other end of the room, you wanted to run far away from the get-together. Scott, always a good friend, stayed by your side and distracted you. He even managed to make you laugh, although internally, your heart was breaking all over again. You didn’t talk to Jake all night. In fact, you didn’t even get close to him, you avoided him like the plague. You did until it was socially acceptable to leave the party. The second the evening began to wind down, you wanted to bolt far away from this place. While you were walking to your car, you found yourself face to face with Jake. At first, you both stood there, looking into each other’s eyes without talking and then, as you weren’t ready to confront him, you started to walk away to your vehicle when Jake held you back.

“Can we talk, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Jake.” you had told, on your guard. 

“Yeah, I imagine talking to me is the last thing you want to do but I need to tell you something.”

“You said more than enough last time.” you had declared, turning on your heel to go in the opposite direction to him.

“Actually, I didn’t say enough. You deserve an apology.”

At his sentence, you turned to him, surprised. Getting an apology from Jake was the last thing you expected. You stood in front of him, your arms crossed over your chest as a way to show him you wouldn’t let him get under your skin so easily - when in reality, this felt like doing something impossible.

“I’m sorry I left you in the dark when I broke things off. I’m sorry I pulled the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. It wasn’t fair to you. And I’m…” Jake had sighed, “you deserve a real apology, better than this one, though I had to, at least, tell you this. Maybe I’m going too far but I’d be happy to make it up to you correctly by meeting each other someday soon.”

“Jake, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” you had refused, looking down for a second. “But thanks for what you just told me, it’s always nice to hear it.”

Following your sentence, you thought the conversation was over so you took out your car keys from your purse when Jake’s voice resonated in the parking lot once more:

“Is it because of the guy you were with tonight that you turned me down? Have you guys been together for a long time?”

“Scott? He’s just a friend.”

“The way he made you laugh…,” Jake had scoffed, “it didn’t feel like you were just being friends.”

“And yet, there is nothing between us.” you had replied, defensive. “And anyway, why does it bother you so much? We’re not together anymore, do I have to remind you this was your decision?”

“And it was a dumb decision. I miss you so damn much!” He had exclaimed with a guilty look on his face. “God, you have no idea. Everything reminds me of you. The second one of your favourite artists is on the radio, I can still picture you singing the lyrics with a huge smile on your face. What I wouldn’t do to see that smile again!” he had added more softly. “Even now, I always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car then I realise you’re not here anymore because I fucked up. I’m watching everything that you do, every achievement you make, I make sure to know them. I’ve always known you were a damn good pilot but you keep impressing me. I should’ve realised the chance I had when I was with you before ruining it. I can’t move on, I can’t even stomach loving somebody else beside you.” Jake had confessed, taking a step towards you.

As soon as you saw him getting closer, you couldn’t help but look at his lips, oh, how you’ve missed those lips so much! Looking at him more carefully, you also noticed he wanted to touch you, too. Several times, his hands had almost reached over for yours, nonetheless he held himself back, not wanting to ruin anything with you by acting impulsively. Listening to Jake’s confession almost made you fall for him again and forget about the pain he caused you. Though, you stayed silent, knowing that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn’t know how to resist him. With a desperate voice, Jake tried to go all in by stating one last time:

“I swear if you gave me one last chance, I would do better for you. I will be the man you deserve, I won’t break your heart. I learned from my mistakes, I promise.”

“Jake, you hurt me.” you had said with a weak voice.

“I get it but if you ever were to change your mind, I’d always be free. Again, I’m sorry.”

With this last apology, Jake left you alone and you got in your car with teary eyes. You hold them back until you left the parking lot.

Unfortunately, this is not what happened. 

You did run into Jake in the parking lot but he stayed silent. At one point, you thought he was about to say something nevertheless he just walked away, a guilty look on his face.

And here you are now, in your bed, fantasising about things you wish he said to you. Despite the break up five months ago, you’re still desperate for his love. Despite the pain he caused you, you yearn for his apologies, but especially you wish he’d still want you and even if in the scenario you made up, you refused to see Jake again, you know that once you would have gone home, you would have called him and said yes. You still love him and you wish you didn’t. He’s still playing with your feelings when he’s not even talking to you anymore. Your heart conspires against you by torturing you and making you long for a Jake who would know how to fix his mistakes and be the man you deserve. Yet, it’s of no use. Jake will never change and if he came back, it’d be just to play with your feelings before leaving you hanging again. You waste your time on idiotic things. It’s a waste of time to hope for him to change, it’s a waste of time to think of things he never said and things he’ll never say to you. Jake is a waste of time and you’re mad at yourself for dedicating so much time of your life for a man who stopped thinking about you a long time ago. You just hope one day you’ll be able to feel lighter, away from Jake and your feelings for him.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Part two

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

[yandere-sins]

Guard #200

a/n: This got way longer than I wanted again, but at least some smut, hehe >:D Hope you like it! Thanks for requesting ^^

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Nanamix GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Clit Stimulation, Dub-/Non-Con, Sexual Fantasies), Obsessive Behavior, Possessiveness, Restraints, Pressuring, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

"And who should believe that?"

"You, obviously."

Unable to hold back the snark in your voice, you let out a sigh, leaning as far back in your chair as your hands tightly chained to the table allowed. Questions over questions over questions, and as of date, no new answers for either of you. As if being in prison wasn't enough, you had to deal with the constant interrogations by the guards, only rivaled by having to fight off your psycho of a roommate.

It wasn't enough for the prosecution that you admitted to your guilt of trying to kill your boyfriend. Oh no. They wanted you to suffer for a way longer time than your self-defense judgment ruled. So they sent their best man (presumably) to roll you through the grinder. Ten hours a day until you'd cave in and make a mistake. Like vultures, they were waiting for you to have a slip of the tongue as they asked you about the progression of events over and over. Every interaction was recorded as you went over your version three to four times per hour, only so they could listen to the recordings again after releasing you for the day.

Tedious, annoying, and unnecessary.

There were many words to describe it, but at least their assigned torturer was a treat for your tired eyes. With all the ugly and piss-reeking prisoners around you, sitting across from a showered, shaven, and hugged-by-his-clean-uniform officer was nice. Kento Nanami looked like a salesman—a really hot one with finely toned muscles hidden under the fabric—even though he talked as if he was presenting diagrams to you. Good to look at but hard to listen to.

Glancing at the clock above the blacked-out window where his co-workers undoubtedly were following every conversation you two had, you felt yourself relax a little, realizing there was barely any time left for the day. The last few minutes, you'd simply stick out in silence, having already learned the hard way not to respond when not asked. You had the judge convinced of your innocence until the very last second, where that damn prosecutor repeated your statement about being deeply, madly in love with your (ex-)boyfriend.

It was your own fault for chuckling. You knew that now.

In the end, the judge still decided that you wouldn't have tried killing your boyfriend for his infidelity when he confessed it to you. But because of your last reaction, your sentence ended up being more on the upper end, rather than the lower one you pleaded for, by trying to convince everyone that your boyfriend attacked you after you said you'd leave him. If only you had twisted that knife after sinking it in his stomach... Then you'd actually have a reason to be in prison.

But what was done was done. You messed up by not killing your ex, but sitting across Officer Nanami was at least a better pastime than dodging your roommate and finding a hiding place where you could sleep for the night to avoid getting stabbed in your dreams. As much as he was stoic, bland, and handsome, you preferred him over anyone else in this shithole, keeping your eyes pinned on his collarbones pressing into his tight shirt with every intake of air as if it was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

The loudspeaker clicked on just as the hands of the clock signaled the hour coming to an end. It was nearing eight in the evening, but if you got out quickly and hurried, you might have been able to snatch a sandwich from the cafeteria. If not for bathroom breaks, you were chained to the table pretty much all the time, missing lunch and dinner on most days which was infuriating but no doubt just another simple torture of the guards to get you to confess.

“Nanami, it’s eight.”

You glanced from the loudspeaker to your personal torturer, who gave a firm nod before closing his folder with all the papers and pieces of evidence he liked to interrogate you on. You've always been a good liar, so you had no problem remembering your answers and repeating them to him even though his collection seemed to grow every day.

Sighing, you flinched from your own stomach grumbling, and quickly moved around to mask the sound, pulling your hands inches away from the table and rattling the chains. There was no reason for anyone to know how affected you already were by their methods. Guard Nanami halted, eyes cutting back to you. Raising a brow, you shook your head before rattling the chains some more.

"What?" you asked. "Hurry up and free my hands."

"Someone will come to escort you back shortly."

Just as quickly as his gaze had locked onto you, it dragged back to his orderly assortment of pens and paper that he put back inside the folder so he'd have everything ready for tomorrow. Then he picked up his cap, setting it back on his head before getting up. Looking down at you with the eyes of someone clearly thinking you were a miserable mistake, he nodded to you, saying, "Good night."

"And 'til tomorrow," you chimed after him mockingly as he left, letting out a long sigh as you waited for release. 

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Heaving a quiet sigh, you rubbed your belly, trying not to let the frustration eat away at you.

Dragging yourself to your favorite corner in the dark hallway across the infirmary, you sunk to your butt, relieved you made it here without being seen. Staying inside your assigned cell and being locked in with the psycho was certain death, but as long as no one saw you and you hid well throughout the night, nobody would notice you were gone.

Once again, you made it through the day. By now, that was all that mattered. One less day of prison for you to get through and one day closer to freedom. Even though this prison and the prosecution tried so hard to make you crack, you stayed determined. With that thought, you dozed off, not noticing the shadow approaching as you hid behind an unused infirmary bed.

Your dreams didn't give you the peace you sought after, however, showing you the place you had called home for so long. It was almost as if you could feel the sun shining on you, warming you as someone gently petted your head. It manifested an even greater longing as someone hugged you in your dreams, holding you closely and trying to make you forget the horrors of your everyday life. But they caught up to you in no time. Before you knew it, you were behind bars, feeling the predatory eyes on you from the other prisoners and guards, and felt the shackles weighing you down.

Only, the sensation felt too real to be a dream.

Your eyes snapping open, you gasped, your body signaling you immediate discomfort. Whipping your gaze from side to side, your vision was still blurry from your sleep, your muscles straining instinctively as you tried to sit up. But the sound of chains rattling was all that welcomed you back to reality, forcing you back down, your chest hitting a hard surface. You were chained to a table once again, making you wonder if you fell asleep while you were interrogated. However, the position was unusual as you didn't seem to be on the side where you usually sat, but rather, on the guard's chair, strapped across the table with barely any room to move.

"You're finally awake," a voice too familiar, yet strangely smooth, noted. You forced yourself to blink away the blurriness so you could face whoever was in the room with you, your eyes darting up towards the voice, but you never got as far as to see your captor. Instead, you flinched as a light shone directly into your field of vision, blinding you with pain.

"What the fuck..." you cursed, but you felt someone shift the light, allowing you to get accustomed to the semi-darkness of the room with a few more blinks.

"Language, please. Or not. I don't care."

When you finally focused your view, you were shocked to find familiar eyes peering back with an intense fixation on you. Across from you, on the chair that you'd normally sit in, was no other but Officer Nanami, and yet, you almost didn't recognize him. His tie slipped off, and the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. No jacket wrapped around his arms, but his sleeves rolled up, and his hair loosened from the slicked-back style he usually wore, some strands falling into his face, accentuating his features beyond fairness. That, together with the spare light illuminating the room and him, he looked like a statue carved in stone. He had been handsome before, but while you liked the clean style he usually donned, seeing him so casually gave you butterflies. You damned yourself for getting the hots for your guard in this situation, but neither could you deny he was your type before, nor could you deny it now.

"You know I hate to repeat myself, but what the fuck," was all you could think of as a comeback, and for the first time ever, you saw him huff, uncharacteristically normal behavior, the corners of his mouth irking upwards before he covered them with a strategically well-placed cough.

"You should be happy it was me who found you and not any of the others."

Seeing how Nanami saw it fitting to bring you back to the interrogation room, you weren't so sure it was any better. However, you were indeed grateful not to be locked up with your psycho cellmate. But you wouldn't tell him that. Instead, you flailed like a fish out of the water, there not being a lot of room to move when you were strapped to the table, and huffed. "I'm a little too preoccupied to feel this way, I'm afraid, Sir."

He let out a curt, unfazed grunt, then reached forward towards your hands. The tips of his fingers slid under the double-wrapped chains, lifting them but a few inches away from your skin, and yet, you let out a breath of relief as if he had just peeled you out of your restraints. Nanami's eyes shot up to you, more fingers wrapping around your wrist in a strange, tingling sensation, lingering there before he eventually pulled back.

"Hm." Facing the palm of the hand that had just touched you with, towards him, and you could watch him flex and relax his joints a few times before curling his hand into a fist. "I didn't mean for it to be this tight," he admitted after a few seconds of thoughtful silence before adding, "Please bear with it."

That was not the answer you wanted. You had been waiting for an explanation, a reason, for Nanami to bring you here. He was dodging questions before you could even speak them out loud. But no matter if it was fair or not, you couldn't get trapped in his net, couldn't say anything. You could only learn to manage your disappointment before it seeped out in the form of aggressions or confessions, which he so desperately wanted.

"You know why I brought you here, don't you?" he suddenly asked, his question taking you aback.

Because he wanted answers.

It was the first thought that came to mind, and you instinctively knew it was the right one. This was after hours. No one would see anything, hear anything, unless Nanami wanted them. No one would know if he tortured you here and broke one finger after the other. But if you confessed your full guilt, he'd finally have you right where he always wanted. You knew what you had to do, even though the thought of losing your fingers wasn't a nice one.

"I have no idea if I'm honest."

His jaw ticked at your answer, feigning naive innocence, and he remained silent even though you could see the annoyed twitch in his leg. There was no tension otherwise in his body, legs crossed leisurely, body leaned back in his chair, too casual for the relationship you two had.

"After all this time, you still don't know..."

For a moment, you thought you heard a hint of desperation seeping through his voice, covered by disappointment that could mean anything. With a sigh, he uncrossed his legs, leaning forward, his hands gripping either of yours and pulling you a few more inches towards him. Then, he slipped his touch under the chains again, petting the rash that the restraints had caused with feather-light brushes.

"After hearing your complaints about your roommate, I've been looking for you every night. You had me worried sick with your absence, but I've kept quiet, finally finding you curled in some dirty corner tonight. Don't you think I deserve a... reward?"

"You think taking care of prisoners—as is your job description—makes me want to fabricate some truth you want to hear? How about unlocking the chains, and we can talk about it again? Face to face?"

Your snarky response might have revealed that you were aware of his intentions, but it was a well-deserved dig at the arrogant idea of his that he deserved anything from you. You were the one tortured and restrained every day. If anyone deserved anything, it was you.

Nanami grew thoughtful again but took your words with more grace than you would have liked. Getting under his skin would have been a nice reward, considering how composed he was always. But instead, you felt his fingers dig into your skin as he wrapped his hands around your wrists, the chains rattling as you hissed from the burning sensation it left.

"I'm inclined to. But I want you to ask me nicely."

You could feel the bile rise in your throat, disgusted by his demands. "Please, kind Sir! Won't you unlock me? I won't run away, I swear." Blergh. The thought alone made you physically sick. There was only one way to respond to his ridicule—with mockery.

"What happened to you? You're always so... correct. This isn't like you," you taunted him, forcing a mocking, concerned smile.

His stare was so intense you felt it burn imaginary holes into you as he dragged his gaze all over you, from your eyes to your lips, soaking up every move of your lips and the words coming from them. "I don't have to be this way when work's over, you know. I can be much more honest with my feelings without anyone else hearing us talk."

"And what are your feelings?"

Eyes locking with yours once again, you could feel the hairs in your neck bristle as a never-before-seen fury flamed up in his eyes. Suddenly, he snatched forward, wrapping one hand around your throat before pulling you out of your chair and towards him. "You drive me crazy," he confessed through clenched teeth as if admitting his feelings were hurting him. "And you know it."

If this was him outside of work, you might have underestimated the boring interrogator you were staring at every day, all day. Sure, he had been assertive in his questioning too. But this was downright abuse of his power, grabbing you violently just like you feared. But what you didn't expect, were his lips suddenly crashing against yours, a husky groan escaping his throat as he relished in dominating your mouth, forcing your lips apart. 

You gasped briefly, trying to pull away, but the hand around your throat kept you in place as he slid his tongue down yours, a strong muscle exploring every inch of your mouth hungrily. When he said 'crazy,' you would have never believed he meant this kind of crazy! Crazy angry or crazy frustrated, maybe! Not crazy with passion!

It was sheer impossible to escape him, and he knew it, enjoying the experience to the fullest. You were a hundred percent sure he expected your struggles. But he didn't expect you to lean into him. Closing your eyes, you prayed for it to be over soon, but when he felt you accepting him, he exchanged the grip on your throat for a grip on the back of your head, pressing you up and into him as much as your restraints allowed. Nanami had long risen from his chair, so he hovered over you, letting out satisfied grunts and huffs as he tortured you with his tongue, again and again, needily unearthing every secret of your mouth.

At least it's him, you thought to yourself. Better Nanami than any other disgusting inhabitant of the prison. You never thought you'd get out unscathed anyway, and perhaps it was easier when it was a guard that you found conveniently attractive when there had to be someone to lay hands on you.

Only when he pulled away, hand sliding forward to cup your face and wipe away the exchanged spit from your lips, did you realize this wasn't just a pure act of lust. There was a dark affection hidden behind inquisitive eyes that seemed to want to explore your very soul. But his gentleness had to have its limits.

"Still got nothing to say to me?" Nanami asked, and you shook your head immediately. You knew that all his kindness came with a price that you weren't willing to pay. So when you opened your eyes, you glared at him with determination, making sure that he knew you'd never break, never reveal the truth he wanted desperately.

"Fine, let's try something different."

Getting up from his chair, he walked around the table and out of your sight. You felt his arm snake around your waist before he hoisted you up into a stand and pulled the chair out from under you completely, making you rely on his support. "Hey, what are you--!" you complained, suddenly feeling a twinge of panic rise despite your best efforts to stay composed. But Nanami was unsympathetic as he pulled down your pants with ease. You cursed yourself for wearing your overalls only halfway up your body—a decision Nanami had constantly reprimanded you for—the upper half merely tied around your waist and making it much too easy to bare your naked ass in one swoop of his hand.

"That's assault!" you yelled, completely taken aback by his actions.

"And?" he casually returned. "Who's going to believe it? There's no one here to witness us, and you don't think they'll take you seriously if you tell anyone, do you?"

The fact he was right was infuriating. Even more so than his hand landing on your ass, making you yelp. "I've tried to be nice, you know?" he muttered before sighing. "I've been doing overtime every day since accepting this task of making you talk. And I am tired of it. This ends now."

Another slap, but you clenched your teeth in preparation this time, holding back the frustration and humiliation you felt. This wasn't about him! Nothing was! Why couldn't he just leave you alone? Why couldn't he accept your version and your sentence, even if it was a lie?

"Tell me you did it, and this will be over. Tell me you stabbed that idiot on purpose."

Shaking your head, you refused to give in. Truth be told, for a moment, when he kissed you, you thought he wasn't that bad of a guy even though he had very strange methods of conveying his feelings. "Tell me," he kept urging. "I want the truth and nothing but."

Slap. The burning tingle sent a shockwave through you like nothing ever had. One that made you sniffle but also made your core clench like a bitch in heat. Your boyfriend had been way too vanilla, a blowjob and five times in-and-out guy before he rolled over and fell asleep, so you never got to experience anything more exciting than missionary and being asked if he made you feel good. It was nothing like the tantalizing feeling of Nanami's palm remaining on the burn, heat spreading from his hand before he lifted it, fingertips teasing the irritation until the last second as he brushed them over it with a feathery touch.

Only to strike out again.

This time, you couldn't stay silent, a gasp pushing through your teeth before fading into a whimper. You wanted to hide behind your hands so badly, but all they could do was rattle and strain against the chains. "Good," Nanami declared, and you weren't sure what he meant when you felt his hand slide down the curve of your ass, fingertips reaching lower until you felt them probe against your entrance. For the first time, you started to actively struggle, having forgotten the one arm he had used to hold you up from underneath you and immediately getting lifted off the ground until you were on your tiptoes, unable to move without risking falling over.

"Don't make me take it back," he warned you. You bit your lip, having to endure the sensation of his palm cupping your thigh this time, wandering upwards in a painstakingly slow motion. "I imagined," Nanami muttered, though you could only give him half of your attention. "What it would be like to fuck you over this table so many times."

What?

"Every day, I have to sit across from you, watch you flaunt and twist your body for me as you make up your lies. And I imagine slipping off a shoe, pressing my foot right here to keep you still for once."

Without warning, Nanami visualized his words into your mind, finding your sweet spot above your cunt, and flicking his nail over your clit with careful precision. Even if he were to let you go right then, you'd still be on your tiptoes as electric sparks ran through you, making you arch your back and mewl. Like the torturer he was, he began showing you the exact rubbing motions he had come up with in his mind when he pictured pleasing you beneath the table.

His fingers imitated a vibration better than your toys did back when you still needed to please yourself. Short, controlled left-to-right strokes, then the gentlest caresses of his fingertips, petting you like a little kitten. You could feel your muscles tense, shaking from the strain your body went through as you wanted to escape and lean into his touch at the same time. He shouldn't have been allowed to be so good with his hands when he was such an asshole.

However, as you felt yourself edging closer and closer to the sweet release of the damned, Nanami suddenly pulled away, causing you to gasp loudly as your bubble of pleasure was popped suddenly. "Don't stop--!" you whined, realizing much too late what words were leaving your mouth. Without realizing it, Nanami had an iron grip on you, forcing you to play his game too well and making you fear for everything there was to lose.

"Oh? Someone decided to speak again. Do you want more?"

Placing his pointer and middle finger to your entrance, Nanami probed again, dipping in an inch before missing it and slipping through your lips to the front, once again perturbing your poor little knob pulsing with hot need. "Tell me what the truth of what happened, and I'll fulfill your wish."

"No! Ne—hngh! Never!"

Back at your clit, Nanami continued his assault, adding twisting and long, deliberate strokes with his whole palm to push and pull at the nerve endings for as long as needed to make you gasp and shudder again. "I'll admit I like this side of you. How does it feel to not be in control for once?"

Pulling his hand away once again, you withheld the urge to scream bloody murder as you were once again denied to feel the relief you sought. As much as it pained you to admit, he was right. You definitely weren't in control over the situation, your reactions, and even your feelings—a dangerous mix considering what was at stake.

"I don't like this side of you at all, you fucking asshole--"

Slap. With no warning, Nanami brought his hand down against your butt again before slipping his hand down the roundness of your cheeks and burying his fingers in your slick. You mewled and moaned, but when his second arm reached between your legs from the front to play with you, you were nothing but a whimpering, panting mess, burying your face in the table.

"Language, please. You can tell me everything without insulting the person making you feel good."

There was an undertone of amusement in his voice, but you had no time to return a witty comment as he dug deep inside you, curling his damn fingers against your walls, your pussy spreading and wrapping around him eagerly. That traitor, you thought, cursing at your body being wet and welcoming to his antics as you felt Nanami spread his fingers in scissoring motions, your cunt making a pleased, sloppy pop! when he finally pulled them out.

Only to go right back in again. Mercilessly, Nanami carved you out in a most delicious way, your core doing somersaults every time he brushed past the good spots. There was a barely noticeable shift on your feet as your body decided to rock back into his hand. Just slightly, but enough for him to get cocky.

"Got anything to say?"

"N-No..."

"And now?"

"Ngh! S-Stop--!"

"Not until you tell me what I want to hear."

Hooking you on his fingers, Nanami pulled you upwards until there was barely any room left to stand on your toes before he pulled out, catching your body with his arm around your waist before it could cascade to the ground. "You're so mean," you whimpered, realizing that he could tell whenever you neared your orgasm. He couldn't possibly know you well-enough, so perhaps he was simply experienced. Or all this time spent watching you had been enough to reveal all your cues to him; you'd probably never know. Either way, losing the stimulation even though he teased you with light touches against the hot, dripping wetness soaking your skin, all you felt was horror and shame.

On the other hand, your stomach was no longer filled with hunger and frustration, just need and pleasure. Knots filled the emptiness in you, and you were waiting for Nanami to release them all at once, exploding fireworks in you like your selfish boyfriend never could. Your need was palpable in the room, making you greedy no matter how much you restrained yourself. It gave you all the worst ideas, from how it would feel if Nanami was the one on top of you. How big his cock must be when his hands left these enormous marks on your ass, and what kinds of things he'd do with you if you gave in.

No.

No, you couldn't. You absolutely mustn't give in to him, no matter the cost.

"... can't."

"What?" he asked, perking up at the sound of your voice even though he was busy fucking you with just two joints of his long, slick fingers, shallowly sliding in and out, teasing your need to be filled to the brim by him.

"Maybe you can't do it."

"Do what?" you could hear the hints of irritation, feel them in the way he let his fingers spread and close at your entrance over and over as impatient punishment. And you smirked, knowing he was hooked now.

"You can't make me cum. It's taking you a long time, for sure."

The silence was delicious to you, having hit a sore spot, apparently. Then, Nanami let out the faintest of laughs, sounding uncharacteristically beautiful, before pressing his fingers back in with one skillful push. Working simultaneously at your clit and pumping his fingers in and out, it wasn't long until he led you back to the edge of orgasm, making you mewl and shudder as he found the right methods to please you, his movements so naturally as if he belonged to your body. To your pleasure. At the last second, the last pump of his fingers, you felt your body tense, your back arching as you stretched on your tiptoes to accommodate him, and Nanami...

Nanami stopped.

He did so with what felt like the force of a cold ice bucket thrown over your head. Pulling away and stepping a few steps back, even taking his body warmth away from your dripping cunt, was the worst kind of torture. You tried to push yourself over the edge, clenching your walls and releasing them, imagining once more what it would be like to be fucked by his massive cock. But with tears shooting into your eyes, you failed, curling into yourself on top of the table as you had to realize he wasn't going to come back to finish this. No matter the number of deep breaths you took, the frustration was hard to settle, even though you got what you wanted—it was finally over.

"Wow..." you muttered, the knots in your stomach tightening painfully. The sound of his shoes made your brain aware of Nanami's presence, even though he kept a respectful distance as he walked back to his chair. You heard him sniff something, then forced your eyes to watch him lick his fingers with an unfittingly stern expression. Sitting down across from you, you could see the bulge in his pants, not even hidden behind the dim light or the tight uniform trousers. Seeing this and knowing he had to manage just as much self-restraint as you had to was your only solace.

"Thanks for nothing," you chuckled, forcing a mocking grin at him before letting your body weight relax on top of the table again. No more strain was needed, with your orgasm completely ruined.

"You can thank me after you beg me to make you cum. These games of yours don't work on me."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that," you muttered into the table, feeling exhausted. But there was gratification in knowing you had won, even though the price had been incredibly frustrating. Instead of fighting the chains, you merely flattened your palm, your fingertips barely reaching his chest. You dragged them downwards, feeling his abs underneath his shirt. Nanami caught your hand, clutching it painfully tight for a moment before he let out a tense breath, leaning down to press your tips against his lips.

"Next time, I'll make you talk, I promise."

"Tough luck," you huffed back, undeterred by his determination. With all the tension between you two disappearing into thin air, you were incredibly exhausted. Even so, your brain managed to still think straight and watch him close his eyes as he pushed his lips against the tips of your fingers repeatedly, almost reverently, as if he was in a silent prayer.

"Why me?" you whispered, and Nanami's expression turned softer, eyes never opening as he mumbled back, "Why you, I wonder."

Then, his eyes snapped open again, dark but sharp as always, his gaze drilling right through the shell of your body and into your very soul. You couldn't read him at all, neither the stoic, assertive guard version of him nor his after-hour, dominant human self. But at the same time, you learned two things that day. Two things that frightened you even after he undid the chains on your hand and left you alone in the interrogation room for you to pick yourself up and drag yourself out. Two things that made all your plans to sit out your sentence and return to your normal life much more difficult.

One, you really, really wanted him to make you cum.

Two, his reason for being so determined to catch your lie was so much worse than you could have ever expected.

"Because if I can make you confess, no one can stop me from making you all mine."