#or else i would hate him if he was an earth sign he would be a taurus or a virgo

[crimsonlovebartylus]

I'm still a Regulus is a cancer truther, and no, I don't care if you disagree.

therefore, for MY regulus his birthday is coming up. Junr 30th - he was a pride month baby.

[multifandom-exe]

Oblivious - A. Hotchner x Reader

Request: Hotch x bau reader where hotch has feelings but reader is completely oblivious? 

Word count: 2k 

A/N: this is a rewrite of a fic from like 5 years ago, if you want to check out the original here to see how much has changed. Feel free to leave requests! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK IN COMMENTS OR ASKS PLS i need to know if I'm still writing like I'm 14 😭.

The line. There was always a line. A line between good and evil. A line between love and hate. A line between professional and personal. That was a line you loved to flirt with, to teeter on, to play with like it was your favorite toy. Of course, you shouldn't be flirting with your boss, but when he was stood there, in that suit that highlights his shoulders and his wrists and his thighs and oh god... 

“(Y/N)?” And the way your name came from his lips was like heaven on earth right there. “(Y/N)?” What? A hand lightly brushed against your shoulder as he moved his head to be in eyeline with you. Slight concern in them as he gave you a small smile, sending electric through your body and thoroughly grounding you to earth. 

“Yes, I'm sorry, I'm just... tired.” You tried to look anywhere but his eyes as you so desperately tried to cover the train of thought that had your skin buzzing and your heart racing. You glanced at his hand on your shoulder as he took it away, wanting to whine at the loss of contact.  

Flirting with your boss was your own self sabotage. But you relished it every time. Every touch he missed. Every glance he didn't see. Every time your heart rate sped up as you saw him leave his office. He didn't notice any of it. And it made you want him all that much more. You should've been glad. Ecstatic even. Because once he realized you liked him, in a way he didn't like you, in a way no subordinate should ever like their boss. That line would be crossed. And no amount of ‘I'm sorry’ or ‘let's forget about it’ could undo it. 

Morgan and JJ stood a length away, taking in the scene in front of them. You, absentmindedly playing with your hair, a sign of flirting. And him, fiddling with his hands as he looked into your eyes whilst you spoke. 

- 

“Do you think they’ll ever notice the other is so head over heels for them?” JJ stated, watching you two with a look that's usually only reserved for Henry when he doesn't understand what he did wrong, or when Emily is openly talking about someone right behind her. A grimace more like. 

“Nope.” He started, popping the ‘p’. “They've been doing this dance for too long; I'm starting to think it's never gonna happen.” He tutted and tried to take his eyes off... whatever was happening over there. 

- 

“You look nice today, by the way. You do every day, but you know.” His attempt at flattery didn't go amiss as you smiled bashfully. 

“Thank you, so do you. I enjoy this side of you much more, the happier side. Is this some new technique to raise team morale?” You quirked an eyebrow as you smiled at him, desperately trying to quell the faint blush on your cheeks. 

His smile faltered slightly. Right. The team. It's been years since he flirted with anyone and clearly, he must be doing something wrong if you're thinking of him and the team. Every day he saw you. And every day he just wanted to throw caution to the wind and hold your hand, touch your face, stroke your hair. Feel you. Gently. Fully. Months. Months of slight flirts and fleeting touches and he feels no closer to being with you now than when you first joined the team. How one of his best profilers could miss something that was right there, he would never know. He was sure he was getting to the point where he looked pathetic. Rossi had even mentioned it to him, a late night in his office over a bottle of scotch. ‘I'm starting to question your profiling skills Aaron, if you two could see what everyone else sees, you'd know there's no question about what happens next with you two’. But here he was, trying his best to put his heart on his sleeve, and even that wasn't working. Or maybe it was, and you knew, and you were simply saving him the embarrassment of rejection. 

A cough broke him away from his thoughts. He looked at you as you nodded your head towards your nosy team members, who stood absentmindedly watching the two of you. He copied your cough and looked pointedly at his team. 

“Back to work.” He said firmly, turning to touch your arm and give you a small smile before returning to his office. Your cheeks heated as you stared at the spot on your arm, slowly walking back to your desk. You sat in your chair, thoughts going a mile a minute and you sighed, pulling your files closer. 

“Oh, Hotch your just so dreamy!” Morgan lays his hand dramatically on his forehead, attempting to mock you. 

“Oh (Y/N), you look absolutely ravishing today.” Emily came over to join in the teasing, doing her best Hotch impression. 

“What are you two idiots yapping about?” You looked up at the scene, laughing inwardly at their antics. 

“Cmon, Hotch is so into you!” Came from JJ as she giggled softly. “And I'm willing to bet the feeling is reciprocated.” She tugged at your cheek, pointing out the obvious blush dusting them. 

“Okay, we’re all bullying me, stay mad.” You tried to joke but they all gave you pointed glares like you were the stupidest person in the world. “He is not into me! He just wants someone in this office to actually do their work.” You giggled before pulling all your files together. You pushed your chair back and stood up to deliver your files for the day. 

“Keep telling yourself that, Sugar!” Derek shouted as you walked away, receiving an unceremonious middle finger in response. 

You jogged up the stairs to Hotch's office, raising your hand to knock on the door, finding it already open. Your heart hummed against your chest at the thought of him hearing the ‘workplace gossip’. Well, can it really be gossip if it's true? 

“I have the files you wanted.” You held them close to your chest as you absentmindedly played with the small pieces of paper sticking out. The tension in the office was palpable. The same tension that hung over you when you looked a little too long, or smiled a little too brightly.  

His head snapped up at your voice and he broke out into one of those very rare Aaron Hotchner smiles TM. “You can just put them there.” He pointed to his desk, trying to shield his face that sported the same bright pink as you. As you approached, he begged to every god on earth you couldn't hear his heartbeat threatening to break out of his ribs. There was a beat of silence as you put the files down. You knew you shouldn't linger, but you couldn't help it. Youd do everything in your power to look at him a second longer each time he leaves. He looks up at you. He really looks at you. Eyes so bright whilst still working a job like this. Plump lips being gently bitten between your teeth. That conversation, outside. A conversation he never should've heard. This was his in. 

“They are right you know.” Your head lifted gently, taking you away from whatever thoughts lingered. Your eyebrows knitted together as a nervous smile and quizzical look painted your face. He stood and moved around his desk toward you. “i am ‘so into you’.” He tried his best to keep his earth shattering confession as light hearted as he could, rolling his eyes a little at the end of his sentence. He sucked in a breath as your face didnt move an inch from the shocked look plastered on it. God. This was the worst idea ever. He could already feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the everything, trying to claw its way out of his throat. His usual stoic look must have faltered, as he felt you lay your hand on his arm, breaking through his layer of despair. 

“Hotch.” Your eyes softened as you looked at him, and your eyes closed lightly, a blush spreading on your cheeks. It felt like this wave of emotion had hit you and you just wanted to cry. The line. It had been crossed, and it was so utterly terrifying, and felt so fucking amazing. 

He had obviously mistaken your soft tone as one of pity, of rejection. He stuttered slightly and turned his back to you, flushing deeply. He babbled, about how ‘sorry’ he was, and how we should ‘just forget he said anything’. God, he had taken risks in his life, but this was possibly the most, stupid, miscalculated, inconcieve- 

“Hotch!” Your raised voice broke him out of his spiral as he turned to face you once more. You moved toward him and lightly pushed a stray hair from his forehead. He so desperately wanted to lean into your touch. “Whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, at least let me finish what i was saying.” He shook his head lightly, like he was trying to shake his thoughts away, as he gazed into your eyes for the first time since his confession. “I'm totally into you too.” You mirrored his earlier words with a slight giggle. And just like that, a wave of emotion erupted in him. He breathed deeply, not realizing he was depriving himself of air waiting for your answer.  

He moved to softly run his thumb over your cheek as he gazed at you lovingly. “I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I tried flirting but I figured I just wasn't very good because you hadn't realized.” 

“Stop. I've been doing the same thing!” You gently dropped your head to his chest, laughing incredulously at the stupidity, that two very intelligent profilers had missed all of this. So oblivious. Both wrapped in their own little world of desperate pining.  

“How about i take you on a date? I could definitely use some time away from this office.” He lifted your chin gently, so you were looking into his eyes. 

“I couldnt think of anything better” You gazed at him, happiness threatening to burst your heart into two. 

Bonus 

Through the large office window, the 5 profilers stood, huddled around your desk, staring intently, like it was the finale of their favorite rom-com. They all sighed a huge breath as they saw you lay your head on Aaron's chest, all turning to eachother with the most shit-eating-grins. 

“I think, Reid and Morgan owe me 20 bucks.” Rossi smirked as JJ and Emily burst into laughter. Morgan hit himself on the cheek playfully with a little ‘ouch’ before rooting through his pocket for a 20. Reid had tried to argue ‘as Hotch's best friend, of course you'd understand him the best’ But it was to no avail, as Rossi just stuck his hand out and gave him an unconvinced look. He sighed and rooted through his pockets.  

After much laughter and gossip, they all turned back to see you placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and hurrying out of his office. They caught him lifting a hand to where you had kissed. Upon realizing his blinds were open, he promptly shut them, trying his best to plaster his intimidating look back on his face. You stopped at the top of the stairs as you realized all eyes were on you. You coughed and tried to indignantly hide the blush that coated your cheeks.  

“Back to work.” 

-

let me know what you think! and pls request this was so cute.

Taglist

@back-totheoldhouse

[propertyofwicked]

SCANDALOUS - OP

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

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

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

masterlist the playlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

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

“not bored, just-”

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

“always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you're ridiculous.”

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

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

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

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

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

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

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

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

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

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

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

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

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

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

[kissitbttr]

you slam your purse down on the kitchen counter, heels clicking towards the fridge.

behind you, toji rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a loud sigh. he shrugs off his coat before hanging it on the rack. “here we go” he mutters tiredly,

you throw a glance over your shoulder and shoot a glare at him. “what?”

“nothing” toji strides towards you with hands on his hips. “just think that maybe you should act your fucking age for once, sweetheart”

and it makes you let out the loudest yet sarcastic cackle in the middle of the kitchen, unaware of toji’s clenching jaw as he stares at you.

“funny you should say that because it was definitely me who’s acting like my own age while my fiancée was out whoring himself out with a skinny blonde skank in green dress during the gala”

oh fucking—

“jesus” he sighs, rubbing his face up and down with both palms. staring at how your body turns away from him, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and closing it with your heel. “this is what is all about?!”

“yeah, what else?” you sass, looking at him while twisting the cap off. “got another bitch you’re flirting with i do not know about?”

thread carefully fushiguro he thinks, don’t forget how mean she can be

“baby..” he tries to talk softly with you, calming himself so he wouldn’t lash out. “she was an investor… it is my job to find a high quality investor so i would be able to extend my business overseas.. why would i be flirting with another woman when i got you there with me tonight, hm?”

you raise an eyebrow, hand on hip. “so are you saying you’d flirt with more if I wasn’t coming with you?”

he gapes. “what the fuck— that’s not what i meant! you’re my woman! why should i even look at other girls?!”

“you just did tonight!” an argument leaves your mouth. “right in front of me!”

“i fucking wasn’t!” he raises his voice. “why would you even think that?!”

“you were staring at her far too long” you point out, eye brows scrunching together, a sign that tells him that you’re not wrong,

toji shakes his head, “we were having a conversation!”

“so you had to look at her like that?!”

“where the fuck my eyes should be looking then?!”

your tongue clicks against your teeth, watching how your man becoming frustrated. “my tits”

and there it is. the smart comeback that toji loves and hate at the same time. fucking christ, he sometimes wonders how on earth could he put up with you for so long.

the answer? ask God.

“you’re being a smarty pants right now with me, mami”

“nope” you pop out the word, putting the bottle down on the counter it creates a sound. “dead serious.” you turn on your heel and move to the other side of the room,

“oh we are not finished” in quick seconds, toji is able to pull you by your hips and draw you to him. causing you to let out a gasp. “hey, hey—how long have we been together, hm?”

no answer. instead, you look away. arms crossed over your chest. but toji isn’t having any of that, his one hand moves under your chin to get you to look at him.

“come on—how long?”

“…three years” you mumble

he nods, locking his eyes with you. “exactly… and when you kept rejecting me because you weren’t saying yes each time i ask you out… what did i do?”

you sigh, eyes closing for a moment. “waited a whole six months for me. sent me details about your whereabouts and what you were doing because you wanted me to know that you’re serious about having a relationship with me”

again, toji nods. the grip he has on your hip loosen, palm squeezing the soft flesh over the fabric of the dress. “now… would i even be willing to throw away our three years spent together for a woman that I don’t even know about nor find attractive? do you not trust me, baby?”

the tone of his voice becomes softer, eyes pleading to let you know that he’s here for you. and it’s always going to be you. he sees a future together even far before the two of you hit your first anniversary. you’re it for him.

“i do, ji-ji” a pout forming on your lips, eyes looking down as you hold onto his arms. “never doubted you one second”

“then why did you do what you did, hm?” he pulls you in closer, arms snaking around your waist. “you know that I wouldn’t leave you—never in a million years—the thought of finding another woman has not even crossed my mind, gorgeous…”

your shoulders come up in a weak shrug, “just don’t like it when girls are attracted to you… it’s pissing me off that they know you’re hot”

he laughs at that, pecking your forehead. “while that might be true, you then know how it feels to be me when i see men gawking over my fiancée. it’s crazy.”

toji earns a small smile from you, blushing a bit. “i guess…”

“you know what goes through my mind when i was talking to the woman tonight?” he asks, watching you shake your head. “i kept thinking about wanting to fuck you in this dress.. so bad.. you were such a distraction I couldn’t think straight” he groans,

with a giggle, you ask “really?” hands moving up around his broad neck and shoulders. he nods with a half smirk. “do you still want to?”

he raises both of his eyebrows, before moving his hands down to your thighs and catching you off guard by throwing your body over the shoulder with one arm. toji picks up the cold bottle of water off the counter and easily make his way upstairs with a giggling soon to be wife.

“you’ll find out soon enough, doll”

[rinarin-karimel]

Chapter 431 analysis. why everyone drew the wrong conclusions.

When the first spoiler frames from the volume came out, hell on earth began, some shippers rejoiced at the canonization, others cursed Horikoshi. I was initially going to say that all these wishes of dirty things towards the author are very ugly: at first, when 430 came out, the Katsudeku shippers rejoiced, and the Izuochi shippers wrote Horikoshi curses, and now it's the opposite, and I would like to ask him to behave decently. I was also upset by the leaks, not only because I liked the other ships, but also because I never saw Deku's romantic chemistry with Ochako, and I hate the trope "a good girl is in love with the main character, he doesn't think about her, but in the end they get married" BUT then the whole chapter came out. And no. In the finale, there is no Izuocha as a canonization at all. At all. And it’s not about the ships, but about the fact that many people didn’t understand what the author wanted to say. It's just that some have already gotten wound up and drunk from the "canonization", while others have started to wind themselves up with their disappointment and savor it, pulling things onto it that don't actually confirm their disappointment", that is, we have a crowd effect.

At first, without context, only by spoilers (it has already been confirmed that some of them are false), it seemed romantic in itself. That is, out of context, you can see how the hero notices a girl at a party after the timeskip, and can't take his eyes off her

But in the whole chapter, this page followed this.

And Deku doesn't look in love here, he looks... scared.

What moments before this does this page refer to and parallelize? And these? Deku, Tsuyu notice that Ochako is very ill and she hides her pain, and forces herself to smile.

And this is what parallels this image, which is confirmed by the context of the whole chapter from the very beginning: Ochako is in pain.

8 years of pain and abscess and this is referenced in her conversation with Tsuyu before the party Next: Deku runs to Ochako as he ran after the war: to save her, he saw that his friend needed saving and urgently.

Ochako herself. You might think that this frame is a confirmation that she still loves Deku.

But the whole chapter had a completely different context.

She remembers this moment as if out of a desire to remember it and feel it again, as if wanting to deceive herself that it is still like that. Just pay attention to the frames: Ochako is shown alone in the crowd, her gait is unsteady, she remembers things that happened 8 years ago out of nostalgia and most likely her wishes will be deceived, that she still has this feeling, because she feels empty. That's why she remembers her conversation with Izuku in chapter 428: Ochako longs for salvation again.

In some form, she gets this salvation when in her head she pushes herself on behalf of Toga to live on. In some way, there is a romantic subtext here, Uraraka on behalf of Toga tells herself that she should let her go and try to experience something else, she herself feels a romantic subtext here, remembering her feelings, but are they in love with each other at the moment?

VERY, very unlikely And, so as not to accuse me, I'm not even a Togarako shipper, because I don't like Toga.

Then the fandom carried on and everyone was charged by each other: Izuku left Bakugo and did not go with him to the agency. But A) it goes without saying that he always wanted to be on equal terms with Kacchan, and compete on equal terms, so he wants to quickly become an independent hero. B) and this is the most important thing. The car and their conversation in the car, which was not in the Friday spoilers, and most importantly the context of this conversation.

During the discussion between Kirishima, Katsuki and Izuku that Deku did not agree to work with Katsuki in the same agency, Deku looks at the signed card with All Might and smiles softly and thoughtfully. It would seem: Deku is happy for his friend

But the Context. This is the same card that was next to Katsuki when he died, and Izuku saw him dead. And Izuku considered himself guilty of his death, that he was not there to protect him, he did not manage to arrive in time to save him, he allowed Toga to drag him into the portal, he was distracted, he did not save.

Deku considers himself - guilty. And this is exactly what goes in the context of the conversation about Izuku not agreeing to be with him in the same agency, although he himself once wanted it. Izuku still thinks that he is too Guilty to be near Katsuki. Hence his running away from him, which Katsuki reads as if he is no longer needed.

But who is Deku? The one who was told to keep his heart under lock and key in order to be the heir of One for All. The one who suppressed his emotions since childhood, and made others always believe that he was okay.

And no, this doesn't mean that Deku doesn't care about Kacchan and doesn't love him (in what sense it doesn't matter), Deku thinks that Katsuki would be better off without him and doesn't understand at all how much he hurts Katsuki. Deku - hides his pain after all the traumas of the war still behind a smile on his face, and this is exactly what Uraraka does in the same chapter. That is why Izuku immediately notices that something is wrong with her at the party, because he feels the same way. The very context of how he looks at Uraraka, the guys discuss couples and a happy life, but what Deku remembers before turningon Ochaka? Shigaraki and his injury.

About Deku's blushing: when they clash, he probably blushes because of the sexual context, but during the promise to spend more time with Ochako, this is most likely not the case: it's a promise to save her and shame for himself for not noticing that she needed help earlier, as well as some kind of "self-conviction", when a person tries to convince himself of something that he can handle or deceive himself, his face often heats up: after all, Deku can't "save" himself.

That's why he is the one who reads Uraraka's feelings, their traumas are similar. And as a hero who can't stand aside when someone is in trouble, he runs to give her what she needs: help and salvation. This is not a chapter about the canonization of ships, these are the traumas that haunt them already in adulthood and the story about them.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

[writingmeraki]

the proposition of us — k.mg drabble.

❝ in which mingyu realises he hates the idea of you going out on a date with your crush more than he hates you.

( or a date with your crush, alleged crush, makes you think that perhaps you don't actually know how you feel. )

pairing : frenemy/menace! mingyu x reader, frenemies to ?? genre : fluff, a little angsty and a whole bunch of attempted humour. warnings : cussing, bickering, mingyu is down bad to the point he doesn't actually acknowledge how much he likes reader, oblivious reader.

a/n : a very very late birthday gift to my darling, I love you so much 💌 I hope u all like this randomness that sprouted while I was literally showering <3 !! i have a love hate relationship with this but! menace mingyu for the win ( although it is very less here i'll admit ) anyways let me know what you think!!

word count : 1.8k

Wonseok was good. 

Great even.

The best actually.

But was he the best for you? 

For a long time, that's what you'd concluded. 

His looks were definitely as though Aphrodite herself crafted him and his sharp jawline, perfectly shaped nose, eyes as bright as if diamonds were specifically embedded in them.

Or maybe you were just way too infatuated with him because when you told Chaewon you finally are going on a date with him, all she did was furrow her eyebrows in what seemed like confusion and questioned,

Are you sure you like him and not someone else? 

Now it was your turn to be in confusion at that time, because what on earth did she mean by someone else? Were you doing something that implied you liked someone else and not Park Wonseok, the guy who stole your heart when he saved you from falling and embarrassing yourself,exactly 6 months,10 days ago? 

This same confusion stuck with you like a pestering thought, unable to be moved until you finally left the date, more at unease than at excitement. 

The unease you felt made you irritated because you couldn’t quite understand what it was that was bothering you. 

So in all that chaos, you stood outside the one place that would hold the answers to your confusion. 

The convenience store.

The owner probably thought you had lost it or were drunk, no in between because for one you were all dressed up in your prettiest outfit, makeup done and hair one while you stood outside looking at the sign. 

Who dresses up for the convenience store? A crazy person. 

Are they drunk? Probably. 

Luckily it was none of those. 

You might rip your hair out now, because the one thing you came looking for in the grocery store was not even there.

The blueberry flavoured ice candy. 

Your favourite blueberry flavoured ice candy. 

You just gave up then and there, without buying anything you went outside of the store, and decided the sidewalk was the best place to sit. Ah yes, the sidewalk with the uneven edges and small stones that would dig into your butt and probably bruise it if you sat on it longer than ever. 

Perfect. 

Shutting your eyes, you began to think of possible reasons behind your discontent with Wonseok. 

You didn’t even notice, someone followed you out of the store, with the very thing you’d been craving right in his hands. 

The crinkling sound of a wrapper, made you open your eyes in both surprise and fear, and you almost would have fallen down even while sitting as you looked in front of you. 

A hand, holding...the blueberry ice candy? 

Your eyes immediately darted towards the owner of said hand, and you’re sure the surprise now showed on your face as it was none other than Kim Mingyu. 

Kim Mingyu…how do you even introduce him in your life as a person? Did you hate him? You’d say hate is a strong word, but he was annoying you’d say that, get on your nerves more than you’d admit it.Did you find him hot? Hey now, anyone with two eyes could see he was definitely attractive.

Tall, pouty lips, pretty chocolatey eyes, even prettier smile, buff like very huge buff you were pretty sure he could punch you to another corner if he wanted to with just one hit. 

You’d seen him carrying like two boxes of books once and you remembered how you almost broke your arm trying to even lift one. You also remember staring at how his veins seemed to pop out, how large his hands seem,how nice they would wrap around yo-

Okay you were getting off track now. 

In a way you might say you hate him, not in the despise kind of way but because it was as though he was both everything you wanted to be and everything you wanted to have. 

Both being not attainable to you apparently. 

Now a big question rose up amidst the hundred others you already asked by now, what the fuck was he doing there?

“Here, maybe if you put in the effort of searching more nicely, you’d have found it.” You took the ice candy from his hand, him taking it as an invitation to sit right beside you, his other hand holding his ice cream of the night. 

He looked nice…good actually. It was unfair how great he looked despite his clearly messy hair, worn out black t-shirt and oh God were those grey sweatpants? You tried not too put too much thought into it. 

You frowned in annoyance once you processed his words, finding that there was surely an underlying meaning to it.

“What the fuck are you doing here Mingyu?”

“Last time I checked, the convenience store was a public facility.”

You scoffed at his sarcasm, opening up the candy and for a moment as you took in the dark blue purplish colour, you think all your worries dissolved right there. 

Mingyu thinks he might have melted then and there with the way your eyes immediately sparked up as you saw your ice candy. It was cute how you found the absolute delight in the most seemingly boring things. 

It was one of the things that made him just fall for you even more and more. What you didn’t know about the boy next to you was that he was gone, finished, down all just for you. It began when you went out of your way to save him from being hit by a flying football. His personal knight in shining armour. 

From that moment, he figured if he wanted to be at least a part of your life, he’d somehow have to play something noticeable enough to you. So he took the bite and made himself one of your greatest frenemies. Not that you had any other so probably your only frenemy. 

He hated you…or that’s what he made others think. It was working well until his feelings caught up, his true ones at least, his very real bitter feelings when he found out you went on a date with your ‘crush’. 

He was having a terrible night, figured going to the convenience store would help him and there you were, the cause of all the bitterness. 

“So are you following me or something? And- and how do you know I like this?”

He rolled his eyes, his turn to scoff at you,

“Not everything revolves around you.” A lie, for him, most things did. He did. 

“And I just have good observation skills.” Just for you though, only you. 

The sweet and tangy taste of blueberry juice lingered in your mouth as you blissfully closed your eyes, the coolness of it only adding more to your satisfaction and Mingyu wishes he brought his camera because you looked so…content. So beautiful.

“That sounds stalkerish, please you’re obsessed with me.” It was just a joke, to pull his leg, like you always did.

“What if I am?” Okay and he sounded way too serious for that.

You almost choked on the candy if it weren’t for your quick swallow reflex, eyes widened at his no hesitation reply. 

“Wha-what?”

“What, what?”

“What do you mean by that?” 

He blinked once, twice. And it was then he realised, what he replied, to who he replied. Your widened eyes looked at him both in curiosity and astonishment, lips purplish due to the candy that was now melting in your hand.

“Is it really you know that bad?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. This was it, for him.

“You know, the proposition of us? Like actually us.”

You held your breath, waiting for the punchline or anything that would indicate he was joking but, if there was something you knew surely about him is that his eyes would never lie. And right now, they showed all seriousness. 

“Like us- as in us being civil? Friends?” You nervously laughed, knowing you could be misinterpreting it but you want to take back your words when you see the way his expression drops and the scowl that’s on his face. 

“No. I mean- I mean as more than friends. More than whatever this is. More like a couple.”

“Min-mingyu are you- are you suggesting we date?”

You didn’t exactly know what else to respond other than the obvious,

“Yes! Yes exactly, finally. I- yes a date. A date is all I ask for.” 

Now you think, you have more questions than ever because why exactly did the idea of going on a date with Mingyu, excite you more than your actual date that you just had?

“When did you even like me? I- what? This is so confusing, I thought I annoyed you?” 

“Well you did, you still do but it’s just- I thought it was the only way to be apart of your life and now that I think of it, it sounds stupid but I just-You know what I'll explain it to you on that date so uh what-what do you say?”

In that moment, he looked at you like a puppy pleading to his owner for a treat, his suspicious eyes looking way too innocent but they indeed made their way right to your heart.

“Okay, okay fine! I’ll go out with you. One date.” 

That stopped his brief mental spiraling immediately, in a bit of shock as he looked at you in disbelief for agreeing. For actually agreeing because he did prepare himself for the worst scenario. Which was you probably humiliating him then and there.

His disbelief quickly turned to content and that, that sickly adorable giddy smile of his made its way onto his face, canines peaking out. It seemed the bitterness he’d been harbouring went away. 

“But what about your date tonight?”

You didn’t ask how he knew, but rather answered his question and your own dilemma,

“I don’t think I actually liked him. Probably just that I was grateful he saved me that time, and I mistook it for something else, I guess.”

“And you’re sure you want to go out with me because it’s not just… I don’t know out of something else too?”

“Don’t worry about that Mingyu, you aren’t that special.”

You joked and the way his smile dropped made you giggle even more. 

“Fine then, I’ll show you just how special I can be. How does Saturday, 7pm, near that downtown record store sound as a meet up place?”

“Alright then. Saturday it is.” 

You didn’t think you’d ever reach a point where Kim Mingyu was something or someone attainable in your radar but there you were, not just with him but a whole date with him. 

Perhaps, this time you were indeed wrong about some things in life remaining as just unrealistic wishes because this was in a way your daydream come true. What a bizzare night. 

And oh, your hands were now also blueberry flavored and bonus! disgustingly sticky too!

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writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

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[krakensdottir]

Something else I've noticed about Crowley's compassion is that it also extends to his enemies.

To a point, mind. What he did to Ligur makes clear that he has limits. And those two pushed them like no one else. If it's compassion or survival, he will pick survival every time, even if it means melting your ass.

But outside of that? Look at him with Shax. He knows she's a threat, he keeps her at arm's length. When she asks about the boiler, though, he's instantly helpful. He could have grinned at her and said 'figure it out' and shut the door. But he didn't. He answered her question, because hey, this Earth shit is hard and she needs all the help she can get. And that's remarkable. Because I doubt most demons would do that - even though helping your replacement settle in could be seen as practical, they generally don't seem to go out of the way for each other at all, certainly aren't obligated to. This was Crowley's decision.

Then there's Gabriel. Crowley doesn't trust him, he initially argues that they shouldn't help him because it's dangerous for them both to be anywhere near him. But once he has agreed to help... he is remarkably gentle with Jim. Answers questions about gravity even when he doesn't have to - when he could easily just not talk to him at all. Even when he tests him, almost gets him to jump out a window, he ends up calling him back (once he's satisfied Jim isn't faking, I have no doubt). He ends up offering him hot chocolate. Even when Crowley wants to be mean, even when he tries, his nature ends up winning.

And finally, Beelzebub. I've seen a lot of talk about how jealous Crowley must be, how bitter... but he doesn't seem like it, does he? He's very soft in that scene. He's the one who recommends them a nice date spot to retreat to - one that he himself was considering at one point. He sounds a little wistful to me, like yeah, he wishes he and Aziraphale could have that happiness too. But he doesn't show any sign of begrudging it, either. It seems like he is, in his Crowley way, happy for them. (Of course I'm sure it doesn't hurt that this means they won't be his or Aziraphale's problem anymore. If it were just that, though, I don't think his voice would've sounded like that.)

So all of this is remarkable, but of course, with a little consideration, it's not surprising coming from Crowley. This is who he is underneath. This is who he wants to be. (Even if he hates that he wants it, lol.)

[writeyouin]

Bumblebee X Reader – Returned

Description – When Optimus told Bumblebee to fake his death, Bumblebee followed orders, choosing his loyalty to his leader over his love for you. Now, after returning to Earth, he regrets that decision and is trying to win you back.

A/N – Just a little Earthspark scenario I had in my head for a while. It changed somewhat when written down, but I like it.

Warnings – Mild angst (happy ending).

Rating – T

Bumblebee glanced at you, quickly looking back at Optimus when you met his gaze. From there on out, his optics stayed firmly fixed on his leader, too afraid of what he might see in your eyes.

The two of you had been in love once. Then, Optimus ordered Bumblebee to fake his death and to leave Earth. At the time, Bumblebee had asked about you, his spark-mate, but Optimus forbade him from telling even you about his mission. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, but now seeing you again, older, sadder, different yet somewhat similar, Bumblebee wished he had fought harder to keep you in his life. Granted, he valued little over Optimus’ leadership, but even great leaders could be wrong every once in a while.

“Meeting adjourned,” Optimus finished, having re-acquainted the team with Bumblebee and provided him with his mission with the Maltos.

It was then that Bumblebee knew he had to say something to you, an apology, a request to talk, anything, but when he looked over, you were already walking away.

“(Y/N),” He called your name and you stopped at your car, waiting silently for him to say what he had to say.

Bumblebee hadn’t expected the silent treatment. That was somehow worse than if you began screaming at him.

“I- I’m glad to see you again,” Bumblebee started hopefully, but by the way your expression closed off, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Look, I-” He went quiet as a Megatron drove past, feelin suddenly paranoid that a GHOST Agent might have followed the ex-warlord.

“I don’t have long,” He sighed. “But I’ll meet you at your place and we can talk.”

“Oh, can we?” You said, clapping your hands together sarcastically. “The great and almighty Bumblebee has time to talk to me?”

“Uhh,” Bumblebee stepped back nervously, even though there was nothing you could do to hurt him; your sharp demeanour was enough to make him nervous. “(Y/N), I-”

“I thought you were dead!” You huffed, tears in your eyes as you glared up at him, wishing you could be happy that he was back, but pained by the fact he had chosen isolation over you. “There was a funeral for you and I had to stand by as Optimus read your final rites. Oh, but silly me. You were alive all along and he knew it. That must have been a good laugh for the two of you.”

Bumblebee was speechless as you wrapped your arms around yourself, a sign you were feeling vulnerable.

“I loved you Bumblebee, and I would have done anything for you… I would have waited for you or gone to that damned space station with you. But I guess that was just me being naïve. You just didn’t feel the same, did you? I guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

Bumblebee reached his hand towards you, “(Y/N)-”

“Leave me alone Bee. Just do your mission and whatever else Optimus tells you. You’re good at that.” With that, you got into your car and drove away, heading home where you would be able to cry over all you had learned.

Bumblebee found the following weeks almost unbearable. He worked with the Malto-Bots. You also visited the Malto’s homestead from time to time, teaching the young bots about life on Earth and culture from your perspective; it helped the younglings to have someone else around who they weren’t related to, to listen to their problems, offer guidance, and generally be there for them.

Yet, when you visited, you were quiet and shut off around Bumblebee, treating him with professional courtesy and nothing more. Sometimes, it seemed like you hated him, but then your mask would slip and you would say something kind, reminisce over a private moment with him or laugh at one of his jokes only to excuse yourself afterwards and go back to that cool professionalism which he hated.

He knew he had hurt you and he couldn’t expect things to go back exactly the way they were. He had changed, as had you, but by Primus, he wanted you back. Well, if that was going to happen, then he knew he had to go back to basics. Flowers and a moonlit walk were a good place to start. It wouldn’t solve all of your shared problems, but it would make his intentions clear and hopefully break the ice that had formed in the years you had been apart.

Bumblebee held the bouquet he had picked for you by his side, trying not to gesture too wildly while he practised his speech on the walk to the farmhouse GHOST had provided for you.

“I think you should try forgiving me-” He shook his helm, “No, that sounds like I’m blaming them. Okay, things have been hard the last few years but I think we should give it another shot and- That’s not it.”

Bumblebee vented air through his systems, taking a minute before trying again, all too aware he was running out of time to practice, “Look (Y/N), we still have to work together, and if we’re working together you can stand to be around me and-”

“And you think that’s a good enough reason to get back together?” You said incredulously, startling Bumblebee as you stepped out of your car.

“(Y/N)! Uh, no- I mean- I wanted to- That wasn’t the final speech- I thought you were inside,” He pointed accusingly at your house, stammering, “I-I mean, I was supposed to have more time and- and- These are for you!” He thrust his servo at you, showing off his bouquet.

You raised an eyebrow bemusedly, “That’s ragwort.”

“Yes?” Bumblebee agreed uncertainly, hoping you liked ragwort since you knew what it was.

“It’s poisonous.”

“ARGH!” Bumblebee threw the weeds to the ground, crushing them with his pede. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“Are you mad?”

You allowed yourself a small mirthful smile, “At this? No.”

“And at me?”

Your smile faded, “Jury’s still out. It depends on what you’re going to say in the final draft of that speech you were practising.”

“Right…” Bumblebee deflated. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He expected that the right words would come out, just like they used to when he visited you in days long gone. He opened his mouth, trusting his spark to lead him to the right words, “I- I miss you.”

You looked sad at that. “I know, Bee. I miss you too, but it’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

You turned away from him, ready to retire inside for the night.

“Wait,” Bumblebee begged, “Please.”

You hesitated, giving him your full attention, despite the pain he was causing you.

“I miss you,” He said again. “I miss us. I wish I could turn back the clock and that I’d fought harder for you but… But I can’t. All I can do is try to make things right, now. I was an idiot back then. I’m still kind of an idiot, but I want us to be together and I want to fight for this. Please, just tell me there’s a chance and I’ll do anything. I love you. I always have.”

You stared up at Bumblebee warily, wanting to lower your defences but scared that if you did, he would leave you again or worse, that he might actually die this time. Yet, as you opened your mouth to reject him, the words wouldn’t come out.

However, you couldn’t readily accept him either. Your relationship with him was in an odd state of limbo. There was too much history to start anew, but you couldn’t simply pick up where you left off.

Looking into Bumblebee’s desperate optics, you knew you had to make a decision immediately.

You sighed, “Look, I’m not promising anything but let’s- Let’s go for a walk and see where the night takes us.”

Bumblebee’s expression lightened, a smile forming that made your heart flutter with a whirlwind of happy memories. Just like that, you knew that he would win you back, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t make him work to build up your trust in him first.

[literaila]

bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

last part | next part

*

year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long. 

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly). 

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze. 

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell. 

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong. 

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable. 

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences. 

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward. 

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked. 

“what happened?” 

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks. 

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else. 

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?” 

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you. 

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.” 

“the kids say something?” 

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“ 

“what about you?” 

“what about me?” 

“you’re frowning.” 

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.” 

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong. 

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar. 

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.” 

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.” 

“you didn’t sleep?” 

“i did…” 

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie. 

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about. 

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core. 

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business. 

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you. 

“why?” 

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out. 

“what?” 

“a little space. i just…” 

“what?” his brows are furrowed. 

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.” 

“i don’t want to talk.” 

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone. 

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“ 

“just tell me what happened.” 

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.” 

“clearly, it’s not nothing.” 

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly. 

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?” 

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips. 

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing. 

so he does. 

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that. 

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything. 

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

*

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said. 

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her. 

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals. 

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear. 

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows. 

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong. 

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets. 

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink. 

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting. 

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.” 

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.” 

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?” 

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.” 

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.” 

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?” 

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.” 

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin. 

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.” 

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.” 

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.” 

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” 

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft. 

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits. 

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist. 

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.” 

“wow. way to narrow it down.” 

you pinch his leg. 

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy. 

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.” 

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline. 

“he did?” he whispers, eventually. 

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.” 

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.” 

“you would only care about that.” 

“hey, a free meal is no joke.” 

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.” 

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own. 

“so, did he say why? something happen?” 

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.” 

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.” 

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?” 

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.” 

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it. 

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up. 

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…” 

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough. 

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.” 

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes. 

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know. 

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again. 

you wipe the tear away as it comes. 

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say. 

so angry that he's never been enough for this. 

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.” 

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.” 

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed. 

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes. 

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.” 

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.” 

you shake your head. “you never do.” 

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers. 

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.” 

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead. 

“i know.” 

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go. 

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know. 

what would you do if the situations were reversed? 

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.” 

“satoru…” 

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means. 

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.” 

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying. 

you laugh. 

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.” 

you push him away. 

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in. 

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains. 

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?” 

satoru grins. 

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention. 

just staring at you. for a different reason this time. 

*

next part | series masterlist.

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on–”

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR 2. YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

WARNiNGS » pop culture references, profanity, errrm cant rlly think of anything else

3.6k words (IMSORRY), also it may be a bit confusing but its kind of written like an audio transcript! not all written parts will be like this only the podcast episodes! also this is NOT proofread so pls excuse any typos or grammar mistakes 😞😞

episode desc -  enjoy your stay today in yap central :D ! in todays episode we started off with a deep question about love and relationships and gave our inputs on that. after allll those deep talks we did a good ole blind ranking forms of ‘first dates’. following that up we mention alpha male podcasts and why they should be indefinitely wiped off the face of the earth. to wrap things up we discuss proper aux etiquette *COUGH* kat *COOUGHHH*. hope you had fun with us today and come back to visit yap central! 

*the set up is a big living room, there’s two couches, mics propped up. the room has a very calming aura, there’s fairy lights and blankets on the couches. as well as plushies and throw pillows. on the couch to the left, kat, riki, and you are seated, adjusting your seating positions to be comfortable. on the couch to the right, jungwon, giselle, and sunoo are seated. jungwon sits back down after standing and gets comfortable*

jungwon: okay the camera is on now 

sunoo: kat i can’t take your costume seriously 

*all laugh in unison, riki is pointing at her, laughing and even after everyone is done he still can’t stop.* 

yn: for audio listeners we’re dressed as mario kart characters and kat is.. 

kat: YOSHI *in yoshi voice* 

riki: *still laughing* it’s the tail man 

giselle: this might be the best theme we’ve had so far 

sunoo: no no the one where we switched clothes was funny 

*girls laugh at the memory, jungwon groans and rolls his eyes* 

jungwon: okay no the girls chose bad clothes on purpose that day 

riki: i think we were set up 

yn: i lost a beloved crop top that day 

jungwon: it was way too tight around my arms! 

giselle: that’s surprising considering you have noodle arms 

riki: false *makes buzzer sound with mouth* he actually has been going to the gym more often 

kat: what improvement won *claps* 

sunoo: oh my god did i tell you guys about the comments on my skin care video with jungwon 

yn: no? the one where you opened the PR package right?

kat: wait can you give me some of those? 

giselle: yeah same 

sunoo: of course, thank you dr jart by the way for the package! *he looks to the camera, giving a peace sign* 

jungwon: what the hell were the comments?

sunoo: no yeah basically some of them were like oh how cute, or just about the skincare then the others were saying me and jungwon were a cute couple. 

*riki moves the mic away to laugh at sunoo, you and jungwon gasp.* 

kat: honestly i was expecting ship edits of me and yn 

yn: SAME! 

giselle: that’s so cute you guys are official!

*riki continues to laugh while jungwon glares at giselle, then looks to the camera* 

jungwon: me and sunoo aren’t dating hate to break it to you all

sunoo: you aren’t even my type calm down 

riki: rejected in front of the whole world how do you feel jungwon? 

jungwon: anyways beep- 

giselle: wait before we sign in can we get a water break 

yn: yeah i have to go to the bathroom

jungwon: i literally told you guys to go before 

yn: would you want me to piss on your carpet 

giselle: how would twitter feel knowing you let your editor go thirsty

jungwon: *sighs* go hurry up 

*you and giselle walk out of the room, talking but mics cannot pick it up* 

kat: did you guys see the whole brooke schofield and clinton kane thing? 

sunoo: oh my god yeah.. that shit is crazy 

riki: what happened 

sunoo & kat: basically- oh no you go first 

jungwon: one of you say it 

*kat looks to sunoo, nodding for him to speak* 

sunoo: basically brooke, the co host on cancelled, dated this singer named clinton kane and he full blown LIED about every aspect of their relationship like he said his whole family died but they didn’t and he faked having an australian accent. 

riki: rip you can’t make your mom jokes

jungwon: *laughs* no but there’s no way 

kat: no yeah and she made like a tiktok series kind of exposing him and they’re just going back to back. 

riki: what does this dude look like 

sunoo: *snorts* look him up on tiktok. clinton kane 

*both riki and jungwon get out their phones, typing away. the two of them look at their phones then each other. jungwon and riki start laughing* 

kat: i know! like how did she date him *laughs* 

jungwon: brooke dated HIM? 

sunoo: YES! that’s what i’m saying 

jungwon: look at his teeth he probably has gingivitis 

kat: ugh his breath probably stinks all the time 

*you and giselle come back into the room, confused at the conversation at hand and taking your seats. riki stares at his phone confused then looks to everyone else* 

riki: wait he’s not a ginger 

yn: what? 

riki: his hair is brown idiot 

jungwon: wait what are you talking about 

sunoo: riki are you on the right account stupid 

riki: i literally am. you said he has gingivitis, he’s literally not ginger 

*giselle gasps and starts laughing, causing the others to laugh. riki laughs nervously* 

riki: what

giselle: gingivitis means the tar on your teeth, not being a ginger 

sunoo: oh my god *wiping his tears away, still laughing* 

*riki groans, making everyone laugh, once collected jungwon clears his throat, sitting up* 

yn: thank god we came back to that 

giselle: i know

riki: okay guys that’s enough it’s not that funny

sunoo: oh it is. 

jungwon: alright, can we sign in now? 

*jungwon looks to everyone and they nod, each getting comfortable in their spot* 

jungwon: beep beep! you’ve arrived in yap central im your co host for today, mario. 

riki: and i am your second host, luigi

jungwon: starting from the far left we have 

kat: yoshi *in yoshi voice, waving to the camera* 

yn: princess daisy! *you show your crown, smiling.* 

giselle: princess peach! *she gives the camera a peace sign.* 

sunoo: and i’m toad *he giggles at his hat, the top of the toad.*

yn: i think out of everyone’s i love kats costume 

*kat laughs, pulling her yoshi onesie hood over her head. making the others laugh and smile at her.* 

jungwon: she’s so lucky she’s in a onesie me and riki have these stupid ass gloves 

riki: i don’t know man it’s kinda sick 

sunoo: *taking a sip of his water* is it not uncomfortable 

giselle: it’s giving mickey mouse 

riki: it’s giving your mom 

sunoo: guys riki discovered your mom jokes today 

kat: well your mom has ligma 

sunoo: the fuck is ligma 

yn & kat: LIGMA BALLS!!!! 

*everyone bursts out laughing at the immature joke. sunoo does not look amused yet still laughs along*

jungwon: it’s the way i saw it coming too 

riki: i saw your mom coming 

yn: pause?? 

sunoo: oh that’s not 

giselle: boyfriend! i’m nervous! 

*you, kat and giselle all giggle at her little reference* 

riki: wait no- 

jungwon: dude my mom watches this 

riki: i’m sorry miss yang i didn’t mean it 

jungwon: SHES MARRIED. 

riki: okay then what do i call a married woman?!? 

kat: mrs, not ms. 

riki: see was that so hard. *riki looks to the camera, interview style.* i’m sorry mrs yang i promise i will never say anything like that again 

jungwon: yeah she doesn’t watch the pod man, but thanks for apologizing to all the mrs yangs out there! 

*you and kat hold back your laughs as you look at riki. riki then rolls his eyes and jungwon earning a smile from him and opens his phone to the questions he has pulled up.* 

riki: everyone ready for the first question?

*they all nod, shifting in their seats a little to get adjusted. you sip from your water, giving your attention to riki and making sure the mic doesn’t pick it up.* 

riki: it’s kinda deep, is it easier to love or be loved. 

giselle: *gasps* that’s good one 

jungwon: it came from the patreon 

riki: since i asked the question let’s start on the other side, sunoo. 

sunoo: i think being loved has like a feeling you can’t  replace you know. 

yn: i agree, it’s like everything comes like full circle when you’re being loved by someone. it’s a really good feeling. 

sunoo: i do think though, to give love and to be loved has like its cons too. say if you were in a one sided relationship and you were giving love to someone who wouldn’t want it back, it hurts a lot. 

jungwon: it’s just draining on the person overall. 

kat: but i feel like if you were on the other side of that isn’t it equally as bad? you know if you were being loved by someone who you didn’t love back it’s just another issue because you feel like you owe them your love 

giselle: i agree with you, kat i do but i think it’s so much more tolling on the person giving love because it’s like you’re giving a part of yourself to someone else to cherish and hold. 

sunoo: wow that was poetic 

giselle: i know right? 

kat: yeah i get what you mean

giselle: giving your love is just so much deeper. sure to be loved is such a great feeling but giving your love isn’t just surface level, it’s like you actually love that person so much, and it’s so passionate too. 

riki: but that can be said for the other perspective too

giselle: you’re right 

yn: i honestly think being loved is something everyone gets to experience once in their lifetime, it’s not only limited to intimate relationships 

jungwon: ahh you have a point 

yn: you get to be loved by your parents, friends, anyone really who cares about you. it’s a good feeling and i think that almost everyone should have that kind of feeling in their lives. 

sunoo: what would you describe it as? 

yn: i think it’s different for every relationship. like for example being loved by my family is the thing that nothing can replace, it’s like a warm hug after a long storm. it’s familiar and it’s a feeling that i just think i would give the world to have all the time. 

riki: im the same way, even though i don’t live near my family anymore i miss them like crazy all the time. like my moms hugs. 

sunoo: ughhhh my moms hugs, im gonna drive by and hug her after this 

kat: are you gonna open the door and just give her a big fat hug and leave 

sunoo: you make me sound like a situationship who fucks you then leaves 

giselle: not our fault you worded it like that 

jungwon: i agree with you though yn. i do think that being loved just offers so much more than just intimate relationships. 

riki: i do too. but i see giselles point too. why did i have to pick the best question ever. *riki groans but smiles in the process, making kat slap his arm.* 

sunoo: you just wanted an ego boost. 

niki: perhaps. 

jungwon: i think that it’s a tie, both of them have their pros and cons 

kat: that’s a good way to end it 

sunoo: didn’t know it was a deep podcast today 

riki: sorry *laughs nervously* 

yn: no it’s okay i liked the question *you smile to riki, rubbing his shoulder* 

giselle: yeah same 

jungwon: well then you guys are gonna like this next segment. 

kat: wait let me guess would you rather?

jungwon: no

kat: scenarios?

jungwon: no kat-

kat: opinions on the [BLEEP]?!

*the group look to each other, then burst out laughing.*

giselle: fuck i’m gonna have to edit that out 

kat: what?

sunoo: we cant talk about the [BLEEP] thing remember. 

yn: yeah or else it’ll be our neck. according to [BLEEP] 

jungwon: guys stop bringing it up now we have to bleep all of that 

kat: sorry.. *she smiles nervously at jungwon and giselle and they both wave her off*

jungwon: what i was trying to say is that our next segment is blind ranking

sunoo: oh my god i love these

yn: same 

jungwon: topic is first dates 

riki: okay well i can’t participate i’ve never been on an actual date 

*sunoo moves his mic away to laugh at riki, riki stares at him to shut him up* 

jungwon: yeah that’s why i chose it for our episode dumbass. anyways there’s five of them so here’s the first one. a music festival  

kat: oh my god 3 duh 

yn: ehhhhh 5? 

kat: *gasp* what 

giselle: yeah im with yn 

sunoo: yeah 5 

kat: why that’s so fun 

yn: it’s too sweaty like i had to be super comfortable to even go to head in the clouds with riki and won

giselle: i feel like that’s cool to do if you’re already dating but first date? i don’t think so 

jungwon: majority rules sorry kat 

kat: yall are fake 

riki: okay next one is a classic, the movies 

sunoo: honestly 4 

giselle: maybe 3 i don’t know it’s very like highschool

yn: yeah i see what you mean. i think it’s just weird because what if you’re watching a popular movie and neither of you really like it. also you can’t really talk to get to know the person 

jungwon: personally this is a 5 for me 

kat: it’s so like.. middle school 

riki: doing that damn arm stretch. 

*everyone laughs at riki’s joke as he fake yawns to stretch his arms and put it around kat, making her laugh even harder.* 

jungwon: i was abusing that card in highschool 

yn: it’s so corny eww *laughs* 

kat: no it’s kinda smooth if someone can pull it off 

sunoo: i remember i did the counting shoulder thing in middle school 

yn: oh my god i remember that 

riki: i never heard of that one 

kat: like 1, 2 *she counts her own shoulders* and 3 *she puts her arm behind riki, him laughing as she did it* 

giselle: that’s a good one 

jungwon: so movie 4?

kat: yep movie 4. 

yn: this is so fun

jungwon: the next one is go karting 

sunoo: OOOOO

yn: might put this as a 1 

kat: okay but what if they choose a really really good one for the last one 

yn: ugh you’re right 

sunoo: im saying 2 

giselle: lowkey 3 

yn: noooo its so fun. like its playful and it’s not too much talking where it awkward. and then after that you can grab food and talk 

riki: that honestly sounds perfect 

kat: okay you’re convincing me 

sunoo: let’s stick with two because i know they’re gonna pick a good one 

giselle: okay yeah 2 

riki: next one is eating. like going out to eat 

yn: 3 it’s a safe choice 

giselle: yeah it’s safe 

sunoo: oh my god what’s the last one i’m excited 

jungwon: sitting at your number 1 spot is a date in the park 

kat: oh..

*you and sunoo side eye one another, and start laughing* 

riki: you guys fumbled 

giselle: ugh we should’ve put go kart at 1 

jungwon: i would’ve put go kart at 1 too

yn: okay park isn’t that bad 

sunoo: no it’s bad imagine all the bugs. and there isn’t a single cute park where we live 

kat: that’s definitely 5 

giselle: yeah i agree 

yn: what time are we at won? 

jungwon: about an hour. you guys ready for a break 

riki: yep, i’m gonna go grab water 

kat: yeah i have to use the bathroom

*riki and kat get up, moving their mics. they both walk out of the room. the rest of the group continues to scroll on their phones, checking notifications. giselle laughs and sets her phone down* 

giselle: did you guys see the top albums of all time? from apple music. 

jungwon: *snorts* yeah, yn what’d you think about the list 

yn: oh i loved it, i think there was too much classic rock on there but my girl lauryn hill sitting pretty at number 1 

sunoo: i love that album, like it’s so good 

jungwon: frank ocean was top 5 i think we’re getting an album 

*giselle laughs, shaking her head* 

giselle: i fear we won’t be getting one for a while. 

yn: no but imagine not knowing who lauryn hill is? 

*sunoo and jungwon side eye each other but stay quiet to let yn go on* 

yn: you must have some shit music taste if you don’t know lauryn hill is all i have to say 

sunoo: must be an alpha male 

*giselle, you and sunoo laugh. jungwon looks at sunoo, holding back a laugh* 

jungwon: cmon we weren’t gonna talk about it 

yn: speaking of alpha males let’s talk about alpha male podcasts. have we ever covered that? 

giselle: don’t think we have 

sunoo: it has to be rage bait 

jungwon: well no have you seen andrew tate, he was like so serious about it. 

yn: i think alpha male podcast are so stupid. like you must be so sensitive about your masculinity if you have to run a podcast all about it. 

*riki and kat enter the room, taking a seat* 

kat: what are we talking about? 

jungwon: lauryn hill and now alpha male podcasts

riki: i fucking love lauryn hill 

kat: alpha male podcast should be wiped off the face of the earth

giselle: and they invite like instagram models on there and like flame them for no reason 

jungwon: they are like the bane of this existence 

sunoo: honestly is it just me or like recently has there been an uprise in podcasts 

giselle: no i get what you mean 

yn: i think when all those like old youtubers started doing podcasts they became popular again. 

riki: everyone and their mom has podcast 

kat: dude we have a podcast 

riki: yeah.. we’re everyone and their mom keep up 

*you laugh next to him, shaking your head* 

jungwon: you guys ready for the last question 

giselle: mhm 

jungwon: so as surprising as it is we’ve never talked about aux etiquette on this podcast. what do you guys think proper aux etiquette is? 

giselle: i think proper aux etiquette is playing music that everyone listens to 

jungwon: yeah.. *jungwon glares at kat, making you and riki laugh. kat furrows her brows in confusion*

kat: um hello im an amazing dj 

sunoo: you’re in fact not 

yn: yeah babe 

kat: *scoffs* what! wait do you guys seriously not like my music? 

riki: well no it’s just whenever you’re on aux- 

jungwon: which is all the fucking time 

*you and sunoo laugh* 

riki: like i was saying whenever you’re on aux, you always try and get us on to the music you listen to and it’s just shitty house music like *starts imitating one of the songs* 

kat: you guys don’t appreciate taste 

jungwon: you mean noise? yeah we don’t 

*kat laughs* 

sunoo: hot take i really don’t want music when im hanging out with my friends 

yn: your worst take yet 

sunoo: okay what the fuck 

riki: i’m sorry but pitch silence? fuck i’d go crazy in a car with kat and yn 

yn: rude 

riki: you two talk soooo much 

kat: not our fault you’re a nonchalant emo 

jungwon: *laughing* fuck 

giselle: i agree with sunoo to an extent like it depends on what we’re doing. if we were going to a club or something i’d want to get hyped up but on the way back i would want to debrief 

sunoo: yeah i agree with that

riki: let’s rank us in terms of aux 

jungwon: kat is dead last 

kat: your music taste isn’t amazing i don’t know why you’re talking 

jungwon: least i can admit it 

sunoo: the girls are fighting.. 

yn: i think it goes kat in last, then sunoo 

sunoo: wait what 

yn: your music taste isn’t like versatile. no hate it’s just not great on aux 

sunoo: yeah well yours is shit too 

yn: don’t care *you stick your tongue out at him making him stick it out back, the two of you giggle*

giselle: i think first place is between riki and yn 

yn: my brother just another me 

*you and riki fist bump each other, giggling* 

jungwon: it’s gonna go to their big fat egos 

riki: frank ocean is never gonna release an album ever again 

jungwon: take that back 

riki: your mom 

kat: as much as i hate to say it jungwon might be second. it’s tied between you and giselle 

sunoo: so we agree that kat should never get aux 

giselle: she’s always fucking arguing for it too 

*the group laughs* 

yn: like damn if you’re gonna fight for aux atleast put on music we all like 

kat: ugh fine i will next time 

riki: next time im getting aux 

jungwon: we’re gonna hear emo music the whole ride 

riki: to be emo is to be free 

giselle: rikilations

sunoo: what time are we at? 

jungwon: an hour thirty ish. should we end it? 

kat: i mean did you guys have any other questions 

riki: nah i didnt, did you? *he looks to jungwon* 

jungwon: nope 

giselle: okay sign us out then 

riki: thank you for staying with us today at yap central we hope you enjoyed your stay. 

jungwon: remember to subscribe, like, comment, and share this video. check out our bio for resources and sign up for patreon. peace! 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » i had SOO much fun writing this, like it felt like i was actually sitting there with them. the bleeps aren't too hard to guess bc its pretty obvious. i wanted to include them so it felt more real and i hope this wasnt TOO confusing

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[agirlandhersweetdelusions]

Mermaid who is infatuated with your legs and wants to be in between them. The encounter is by chance, but it ends in something deeper than friendship. 🌊

Feminine Reader x Mermaid

CW: Smut | Some Horror | Mentions of Drowning | No death

"C'mon don't be a baby," Noah said. His tone indicated that he was joking, but you knew well enough that deep down, he hoped you would swim in Lake Lost at night.

"Leave her alone. You know she's not down for things like that," Mira hissed in his direction.

Mira had been your best friend since high school. She knew what you liked, didn't like, and downright hated. Which made it all the more surprising when she started going out with Noah years later.

Noah had always been an ass. He spent a majority of 11th grade in detention, and a majority of college skipped class from being too hungover. In your opinion, Mira was too good for him. It was an inside joke that if she were into girls that you would treat her way better.

You sighed. "If only," you thought to yourself.

The water seemed to have an electric hum to it tonight, and the closer you walked to the edge of the dock, the louder it got.

"Do you guys feel that?" You asked, turning to face your two friends. Of course they didn't because they were too busy making out. Again.

You cleared your throat.

"Earth to horny. Can you hear me? I am standing right here, you know."

Pulling away from Noah, Mira's eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Embarrassed looked cute on her.

Noah, however, wore embarrassment about as well as he would wear anything. Proudly and way too loud for your liking.

"What can I say," he pulled Mira back to his chest. "She's hot," he finished with an annunciation on the "t".

"At least go back to the car so I don't have to watch," you sneered. Clearly, you were the least important thing here.

"No! This is supposed to be our little reunion before the wedding," Mira's eyes dropped as she tried to step towards you. Ah, right. The wedding. You were going to be Mira's maid of honor next week.

None of it felt real. The wedding. College graduation. Hell, even life itself felt strange these days. It's as if everything you knew turned inside out over night, and nobody else felt the difference but you.

You took a deep breath.

"I can always jump in the lake some other time," you faked a half smile.

"Besides. I'm sure you two would like to make one last memory here before becoming," you swallowed, "husband and wife."

Mira turned her head. What her eyes fixated on, you couldn't quite tell. The only thing apparent is that she'd rather look anywhere but at her so-called best friend.

"Well," Noah said breaking the tension.

"Maybe she's right. We can always go for some new memories." He wiggled his eyebrows and Mira's shoulders eased. Your stomach lurched in a pattern with the waves behind you.

"If you're sure -" Mira began.

"I'm sure. Go. I'll be here. I - I missed Lake Lost."

"Really?" They said in unison, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. You know, I love lore and mysteries. What is Lake Lost besides one big mystery. All those bodies are still missing. Surely, it was from boating accidents or drowning, but still. You guys deserve some privacy."

Mira's gaze leveled with yours. Her eyes, a coppery brown, finally showed signs of softening.

You were getting comfortable under the heat of her eyes when Noah swept her off of her feet. Literally.

"Let's go, future Mrs. Scobolt."

With that, they were disappearing in heaps of laughter back towards the car. It wasn't quite that far from the dock, but Mira suggested parking at the entrance in case anyone showed up.

Technically, the park closed at sunset which was 2 hours ago, but when you saw the sign from the backseat of the car, you got a little excited.

Mira hadn't been wrong. You guys used to spend every evening here in the summer. It was where you learned to swim, where Mira caught a baby crab, where a pelican stole your shoe, and where you and Mira kissed.

These waters have seen everything and more. Much more.

Your spine ran cold in the July heat at the thought of the deaths. They had explanations for all of them, but it was eerie how they all occurred at night. Who would go boating at night? The lake is closed!

Then again, here you were. You looked back towards the car, but a thick fog had begun to roll off of the restless waters. You couldn't see more than 200 feet around you in any direction. It was as if a cloud had swallowed you in the time you were thinking.

Going back to the car was still an option, but the mental image of Mira being pounded into by Noah set off a dozen alarms in your head.

Her head rolling back, his hands on her hips.

No. You'd stay at the dock until you were sure that whatever they were doing was over.

Cementing the idea in your head, you say down at the edge of the wooden structure. The water reminded you of the midnight sky, an abyss that had no end. Yet, the clinginess of your shirt to your skin meant that the humidity was only rising.

You decided to soak your feet in the water, and as your legs made contact with the coolness of the lake, a happy sigh escaped your lips.

A few minutes pass of you relaxing on your forearms, feet gently swaying in the lake. You watched the ripples from your moments with hooded eyes.

"I can see how people fall asleep out here," you think whilst fighting back a yawn.

The rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, the chirp of bullfrogs, the increasing bubble of the water - wait.

You sit up, fully alert and eyes wide. The bubbles are concentrated in one area, but they're quickly moving closer to you.

Whipping your head to the car, you open your mouth to call for help. The problem is that nothing comes out. You're stuck.

It's as if you've been submerged in ice. A chill coats your bones, freezing you in place. Your mind races onward, begging your legs to rise from the water.

The circle of erratic lake closes in and as the bubbles reach the edge of your legs, you come to your senses.

But it's too late.

The summer air is warm, but the spot of the lake where you're pulled into is warmer. Water floods your vision and you find yourself flailing, gripping as nothing as you are pulled down into an ombre of darker blues.

You can't see what's grabbed you, nor do you care. Why does it feel like a hand? That doesn't matter, you begin to kick with the hope of striking anything.

The murky water is quickly filling your lungs, and your ability to struggle is growing weak. A blackness eats at the edge of your vision, and dizziness begins to set in.

"Mira!" You try to scream, but it comes out in a slew of air bubbles that only floods your lungs quicker.

You give one more kick, stronger than the rest. You feel your heel connect with a mass. Suddenly, you're free. You slowly make your way to the surface, fighting the urge to pass out.

"Fuck," you gasp in a voice that sounds unlike your own. Coughing and sputtering, water spews from your body, and you grab onto the wooden base of the dock for support.

"What on earth was -," you stop when you hear the familiar rumble of hot water. The bubbles. They've come back, and they're racing towards you.

With no time or energy to pull yourself onto the dock, you wait - panting, for whatever the creature is to take you again.

Maybe it's for the best? You weren't exactly happy with your life before, and it's not like Mira would miss you at this point.

Just as you've resigned to becoming fish food, the creature begins to show itself. First, a black spot appears on the surface. Then, as it rises, you're frozen to the spot by icy white eyes with thick lashes of the same hue.

It's a woman. No? It's - what is she? Her eyes are huge and nearly human minus the color, but her skin is a milky blue. She's beautiful albeit definitely not human.

"Are those," your voice trembles, and you reach a shaky hand up towards her face.

The woman - thing, tilts her head. She doesn't move from your touch. Instead, you made contact with her skin. It's ice cold, and your suspicion was correct. She has gills.

Lost in a sea of thoughts, you hardly realize that you'd begun to stroke her skin.

"What -" her voice startles you back to the present. It is dreamy and quiet with a lilt that has you mesmerized.

"What are you?" She asks. Her eyes are wider than yours, but while you're staring at her face, she has taken a liking to staring at your chest.

The look on her face isn't at all displeased, and a heat trickles down your neck. As if on cue, her eyes snap to yours. She waits for you to respond.

"Oh, um. I'm a human. I'm a woman."

"Human? Woman?" Her head is still tilted, so you continue.

"Yeah. A human. I live up there," you point towards the land and her eyes follow. She blinks a few times before looking down into the water.

"And what are those?"

"What are what?" You look down to see what caught her attention, but instead of finding the source of her curiosity, you stir up your own.

A tail. She has a tail. Her human form ends at her bellybutton, and from there blooms a tail that glitters in sparks of white and lavender beneath the dark surface.

"Mermaid" you whisper under your breath.

Apparently, you did not answer the mermaid's question fast enough because you feel her looming over you before you see her.

Her chest comes into view, and you're forced to look up to meet her eyes once more. You bite your lip to avoid smiling at how gorgeous she is.

She chuckles, emitting a sound like tinkering bells and you feel a webbed palm on your thigh.

A panicked yelp slips from your lips before you register what happened.

"I apologize!" The mermaid responds.

"I did not know that your tails were so sensitive. I should have asked first."

Tails? She thinks you have tails? You look down at your legs, then back up at her. She's shrunken into herself, embarrassed at what she thinks may have hurt you.

"No. No no no," you begin to laugh.

"These are my legs," you swim around her in a small circle.

"They help me to swim, walk, and run. They're kind of important. I guess they are to me what your tail is to you."

You don't know why you've become so animated, but seeing the mermaid smile at your explanation has your heart picking up it's pace.

"By the way," you can't stop talking. You've tried, but the words keep flooding out.

"Why did the water bubble when you came? Also, why did you try to drown me?"

She blinks again, narrowing her eyes.

"Drown you? I - I thought you could swim like me? Are you not able to breathe water for long?"

"I can't breathe water at all. I have no gills. Human."

"Huh," she looks off to the side.

"Perhaps that is why those other humans did not last very long with me. I only wanted to study their two tails, but by the time I took them back to my shell cave, they did not want to talk to me."

Your stomach lurches again. She's the reason Lake Lost is called Lake Lost, and she has no idea what she's even done.

"So - So you only wanted to look at their legs? You drowned those people by accident?"

Recognition hits the mermaid like a wave. She spins around, scaled fingers over her mouth.

"I took their lives. Oh goodness, I drowned them!"

She did, and she should probably feel bad about it, but watching her tail flap in distress was not only upsetting you, but it was causing some bigger waves to form in the lake. You could swim, but you weren't sure if you could survive a tsunami.

You swim to her, placing a hand on her back.

"Warm," she turns to you, claimed.

"You are warm."

"Yes. I am. It's human blood. If I'm not warm, then I'll die."

She giggles at your factual explanation.

"You're very interesting. I still feel remorse for the humans that I hurt. I didn't mean to. I promise," she looks at you pleadingly.

"I know you didn't, and if it makes you feel better you can study my legs," the end of your sentence comes out as more of a question. You can't believe you just said that. What if she tries to rip your legs off?

Still, she's stunning. The moon is in its crescent phase, casting a dim shadow over the lake. Her dark hair has a faint light to it, and her white eyes look pearlescent. You could study her for hours, but her lack of shirt deters you as you don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She, on the other hand, has no problem with taking all of you in. Her claim is that she wants to study your legs, but every time you look away, her eyes flutter back to your chest, your lips.

Her hand twitches, and she claps both of them together in front of her.

"I would like that. Thank you," she smiles, and you shiver again at her teeth. They're razor sharp. She could kill you with one bite.

Not that she would. In fact, what happens next surprises you. Grabbing onto the dock, you begin to hoist yourself from the water without much success. Your hands are too wet to get a decent grip.

Sinking back into the water for the second time, you let out a frustrated huff.

Without warning, you feel a pair of icy cold hands gripping your hips, and a torso pressing itself to your back.

Staring into those white irises, she doesn't break your gaze and she lifts you onto the dock, setting you down gently.

You open your mouth to speak, but she beats you to it.

"You are welcome, human." A light blue creeps onto her neck and cheeks.

"What is it that fascinates you about legs? I know you don't have them, but they must look awfully funny to you from beneath the lake's surface."

"They do, but that is why I like them. They are something new. I have had this tail since I was young. It no longer interests me."

The mermaid takes pause, and her eyes scan you over again.

She continues, "Humans are different. Your anatomy is more complex. There are parts that do different things. I have heard many stories about your kind."

"Really? From who?"

"Fish that get set free, my sisters who used to watch humans from a distance. They say that if you make a human very happy, then something good happens. They called it "the cry".

Now it's your turn to be confused.

"Crying is usually not a good thing when humans do it. At least, in my experience. Though, I've not had many joyous occasions to cry over," you avoid her piecing eyes.

"No. It is not a sad cry. It is one that happens when you touch the spots between a human's legs."

She speaks in a voice that edges with excitement. You inch closer towards her at the edge of the dock until your legs brush her chest.

"Do you - are you saying that you want to do that? You want to have sex with a human?"

She laughs again, "Yes. I want to know everything about you. How your legs feel when I wrap them around my waist, how the -"

"What?"

"What would you like me to call your sensitive place, sweet human?"

"Well it's -" you snort out a laugh. You can't believe this is happening.

"Most people refer to it as a pussy, but you can use whatever word you see fit,"

"May I take a look at it?" she asks, moving forward to close any space between the two of you.

"And while I'm at it," she maneuvers your legs so that they rest on her hips, stroking them with her palms. You expected more scales, but her palms are completely smooth.

Leaning towards you until her nose nearly brushed yours, she whispers, "is this ok?"

You nod eagerly as words fail you again.

"Gosh, your legs are so cute. It's like they were made to hold people - or merpeople between them," she looks down, admiring the connection of your limbs and her body.

"Human."

"Hm?"

"I asked you earlier, but I think you were too distracted. May I see your pretty, sensitive areas?"

You think for a moment.

"Only if you promise that you'll greet them with a kiss."

Her eyes beam, a faint white glow added to their usual milkiness. A high pitched purr rumbles from somewhere within her throat, and she smiled, barring all of her teeth.

You lifted yourself enough that she could pull off your bottoms, but she protested the action.

"Human. I think you misunderstand my kindness. Please, do as I ask like an obedient creature."

Your ass hit the dock with a thump. Why on earth were you listening to her willingly? Is she using magic?

You didn't have to ponder because with a airy whisper of the word, "lift" you found yourself rising again for her to do exactly what you tried to help her with.

"Good girl," she mumbled.

And it was if your head no longer existed for the second she saw pussy, she was in a trance. She sunk into the water, leveling her gaze with your cunt. Her eyes reflecting no trace of what she saw, yet you could feel the wind rolling onto your clit.

You were wet, and she loved nothing more in the world than water.

"Pretty," she said breathlessly, still moving closer until her lips were centimeters from your clit.

"Is this it, sweet human?"

You knew she meant your clit. You could feel her cold breath chilling you from the outside, in.

"Yes, miss," you tested the nickname.

She made no sudden movement and to say, "What a polite pearl you are."

That must've been her last thought, too because after that you felt bliss. Short kisses were being peppered onto your folds.

She was working her way down to your entrance, teasing your hole with her double pointed tongue before she spread her affection to your inner thighs.

Your hand reached out, resting lighting in her damp hair, and emitted another of those high-pitched whines.

You gripped her harder.

"Do not get greedy, human," she teased, lifting one of your legs from the water to kiss her way down to your ankle.

"If it is me you want, then I will give it to you with time."

Her movements never ceased, and within seconds she was back between your legs, lapping at your folds.

Delighted hums left you in waves, and with a shaking voice, you mumbled, "Clit. Please, suck on my clit."

"Silence," she whispered, shutting you up in an instant.

She obeyed nonetheless. Her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves while her tongue continued its journey. It was clear that she was being extra careful not to nip you with her teeth, but the tentative behavior only made you want more.

You began to pant, grinding your hips onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open unbeknownst to you, and while she continued to sail you towards an orgasm, one of her eyes bled into an inky blue.

Her efforts ceased, and your eyes opened immediately. It wasn't like you to outwardly pout, but the loss of contact had your lower lip trembling.

When you noticed her eyes, you felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

"Are you alright?" You said breathlessly.

She did not respond.

Her hands gripped your legs in a bruising fashion, and she yanked you into the lake once more.

Instead of drowning, you found yourself being held to her bare chest. She was looking down at you expectantly.

"I want to know what you're feeling, sweet pet."

Her tone was like molasses. Sticky and sultry. You were lost in her, and her gaze did not move from you.

Securing you in her arms, her tail found a home between your legs. As she positioned herself, a few of her scales glided across your cunt, and you moaned into her chest.

A breath was let out by her, and a strangled groan followed.

"Did you - did you feel that?" You searched her neverending pupils for signs of pleasure.

"A mermaid's tail is much more than a vice for swimming, pet. I can feel every contraction, every throb of your pretty pearl. I love it."

She closed her eyes, hugging you tightly while her tail moved back and forth against you. Every few seconds she would go farther out with her movements so that a stray scale would make contact with your clit.

It was as if you were grinding on her except she was holding you, suspended in the foggy lake.

"Miss, please. More. Need more," you begged.

Her tail moved faster. Meanwhile, her lips found yours, kissing you harshly as if to keep you quiet.

Your tongues found each other, swirling before she plunged hers into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning into her mouth as your wetness coated her scaled.

Her heartbeat was increasing, and you were a mess.

"Pet, I am not going to last much longer. Use those pretty legs to move yourself on me. Let us finish together."

She loosened her arms. You used the opportunity to place your hands on her abdomen, grinding yourself faster against her.

"Such a good pet," is all you heard amongst the splashing of the water. The bubbles had returned, and steam rose into the air. You felt the nerves in your pussy throbbing, and you knew that she could feel it, too.

"Let it out, sweet human. Finish for me," she cooed into your ear.

Your legs trembled, and you nearly gave out onto her as your orgasm crashed onto you. Your hand groped her breast, and she placed a shaking palm over yours.

Her tail vibrated, and you heard faint a whimper and whines as she gasped for air. She had cum.

"Keep going. Keep moving. I am almost done," she begged, rocking you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of warmth and wet kisses, you both regained your breathing.

A tail and a set of legs stay intertwined in the sway of the waves, and she guided your hand up towards the moonlight.

The two of you stayed that way, enjoying the frog symphony and the crickets hum. Drifting to the center of the lake as you lay on her belly, watching as her webbed fingers toyed with yours.

"Thank you, sweet human," she said after a while.

You felt like you should be thanking her. After everything that's been happening to you, you finally felt real. You had been seen for the first time in a long time.

"If it is not too much to ask, may I see you again? I am sure there are many more parts of you that I could learn from."

You smiled to yourself.

"As long as I can learn from you as well. I'm sure you've got a ton of stories to tell."

She laughed. You were prepared to ask her about her family, but the familiar sound of tires on asphalt made you both freeze.

Mira and Noah. You had forgotten.

You felt your new companions heartbeat race. Turning to her, you took her cheeks in your hands.

"They're good people, but I understand why you might not want to be seen. I'll come back again tomorrow. This time, I'll bring you a gift."

"A gift?"

"Mhm. Something that you can keep or take to your sisters to show them,"

A few clicks sounded from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to yours.

"Fine, but take care of these legs, sweet human. I do like them very much."

She swam towards the dock with you on her back, shifting to set you on the wooden structure unharmed.

With a wink, she dove into the abyss of Lake Lost, and you heard Mira in the distance.

"Hey! Are you ready to go? Noah saw a park ranger coming this way."

Shit.

"Yeah! I'm coming," you glanced back at the lake, and a shimmer of lavender twinkled not so far away.

"Tomorrow" you thought to yourself.

You could look forward to tomorrow.

[weefers-x2]

It's so interesting seeing all the protagonists flaws so clear and seeing the consequences of them right in front of us. Also I like analysing things and people

Wemmbu doesn't care about people except for Eggchan, and he has close to no allies now because he prioritises himself over anyone he's made connections with. He became close with Wato from their time together, and mind you Wato hates talking to people. They had trust in each other, Jaron gave him the mace out of trust, Pangi was Pangi, and he just abandons Skyblock Civilization when given the option to escape danger. He only cares about Eggchan, and maybe debatabally Zam because he was worried about Zam being completely alone against Clown's goons and prioritised Zam's safety in the end

Spoke on the other hand cares too much. He puts so much faith and trust into the people he meets. He was easily tricked by Ashswag because he trusted Ash so heavily that the only thing that made him lose that trust was the fact that Ash blew up the farms for no good reason. Minute saved him one time and his reaction was to put so much trust in him, and he lost Minute to the Mafia. And literally Planet was spying on them while invisible but then was so quick to be like "yeah he's nice we should team". Similarly with Bacon, he put a lot of faith in him to be an excellent teammate and Bacon runs at the first sign of danger

Parrot doesn't care about himself. He cares about himself so little that he forgets to care about anyone else, and it caused him and Wifies to have a falling out. He didn't care enough about how Wifies felt. He's reckless with his own life and it fully contradicts what Wifies wanted. He watched Luigi die at the hands of the mafia, and now the only thing on his mind was to get revenge even if it killed him. He's so selfless that he's selfish. He was willing to keep Dean on the team even after finding out he has been the reason the mafia kept finding them and putting them in danger, evident from the fact that he was running around trying to find Dean for a good few minutes because he didn't want Dean to be by himself. When he was being chased by Clown is put Wifies in danger, and he thought the only way for everyone to be safe was to disappear of the face of the earth. And that still put Wifies in danger because Clown threatened his life if he didn't tell him where Parrot was. He cares about himself so little that he tunnel visions on anything self destructive and forgets to think about how it would affect others because he thinks it's better for everyone

They're all so flawed and I think that's so beautiful. This was also an essay that I did not expect to become an essay

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?”

Or

An interview gives unique insight into Pedro Pascal and his vast amount of love for his wife

I make my way through meeting the cast of HBO's unexpected hit “The Last Of Us” rather easily.

Bella Ramsey lives in a far nicer apartment in London than anything I would have been able to afford at the same age. Despite their fame and talent, they remain settled and down to earth, dressed in an outfit a little too cool for me to understand and eager to show me around their lovely apartment that is decorated in a way that I quite liked but I'm sure my baby boomer father would find offensive. I even end up meeting Ramsey's girlfriend, a fellow actor (who I admittedly had never heard of) who is equally as young and pretty as Ramsey is. They are both lovely and down to earth, a sentiment I don't often find relatable working with celebrities.

Kaitlin Denver is in her late 20s and still looks like she could be in high school. She lives in a shared house with her sister, whom she also shares a music career with. Despite the controversy surrounding her character in the show, she seems to remain completely unfazed by the backlash and threats that surround Abby Anderson. Denver merley shrugs when I ask her how she deals with it, leaving me to assume her vices when it comes to dealing with unprecedented hate.

I meet other stars of the show too. Gabriel Luna has all the southern charm of Tommy Miller and more, making me question whether he really does any acting when playing the sweeter, younger Texan brother. Isabela Merced is very beautiful in person and is also far shorter than I had imagined. What she lacks in height she makes up for in personality and charm.

Of course, when you think of the stars of The Last Of Us, there is probably someone else that comes to mind. Securing an interview with Pedro Pascal is probably one of the harder things I have had to do in recent years. It's not that Pacal is hard to come by; in fact, in recent years we haven't been able to escape him. I originally doubted that I would even be able to secure an interview with the internet's "daddy." Pascal has had a busy few years, and this one is no different. With multiple projects coming out this year, including the new season of The Last Of Us and his highly anticipated entry into the MCU as the iconic Richard Reed, it seems that everyone wants a piece of him. While all the other actors on this list do have notable careers outside of the show, the point of this interview series was to be able to interview the main cast members of the show in anticipation for the new season; however, I found that same sentiment hard to carry across when interviewing Pascal. I don't want to spoil the show for anyone, but I will just say that he won't be back next season. Whether that's due to internal conflicts or simply being too booked, we’ll never know.

I was rather ecstatic to receive a phone call from someone on his team letting me know the time and date for our interview. Like normal, I'm given an NDA to sign before receiving any personal information, such as his address (which I did require for the purpose of the interview). But everything else seems to go off without a hitch. 

I was admittedly nervous to meet him. In the best way possible, his reputation definitely proceeds him. Pascal is only ever described as kind, loving, funny, and any other positive synonyms for a massive sweetheart that you can think of. I personally have been a big fan of his work since he played forever thirsted over narcos agent Javier Paner. I know they say you shouldn't meet your idols (and trust me, I've had my fair share of heartbreaking realizations that someone I once admired is actually a piece of shit), but I had high hopes for meeting Pedro. And I am happy to report that it did not disappoint. 

I arrived at his home in Los Angeles ten minutes earlier than I should have. Not that I'm kept waiting, as before I can get a second knock in on the door, a young woman flings it open, smiling at me tightly. She quickly lets me in, introducing herself as Pascal's assistant, offering me tea or coffee, and ushering me to sit down on the comfy-looking couch while I wait for her boss to arrive (which she insists should not be too long). I take a moment to look around the room while I'm waiting. The room is sweet and welcoming, much like the rest of the home, which feels very well... homely (like stepping into your best friend's house and chatting with their parents at the dinner table). It's a hard feeling to describe, such a sense of nostalgia from a place that I had never been in before. It feels fitting though that a man so beloved as Pedro Pascal should have a home that feels so nice. I snoop to get a closer look at the photos that hang up on the walls and sit on cabinets. Most of them seem normal. There are a few faces I recognize within the photos; Oscar Iscac can be spotted alongside a younger-looking Pascal in one of the photos on the wall. I spot John Favro amongst a few people in a photo that looks to have been taken on the set of The Mandelorian, but apart from that, the photos seem normal. They depict family and friends in various places over various years; it appears that Pascal cherishes his relationships with loved ones above all else. 

I'm stopped in my snooping by another face in one of the photos, a face I recognize instantly, a face that has been all over the internet and tabloids for some time now. Pedro's wife. The photo is the first one in which she features prominently, sitting alongside what I can only assume to be one of her husband's sisters. It's a sweet photo, one that I can imagine Pedro was on the other side of, grinning wildly while taking. Y/N Pascal is an elusive figure that the media and her husband's fans have been trying to know better for a few years now. She is what is best described as a "normie," that is to say that she is just like you and me; that is perhaps what makes her so interesting to fans. She doesn't appear to have any ties to the industry; she isn't some big-wig producer's daughter; in fact, despite their insistence, fans have been unable to find anything on her. She has no public social media accounts, no company profiles online, and no one she went to high school with has come forward with a tik tok horror story (yet!). The couple are shrouded in mystery; no one seems to know how they met, where Y/N is from, or even the highly shrouded question of her age. She certainly appears younger than Pascal by a good few years, and I'm sure that I could find thousands of posts online speculating (or being downright nasty) about how young she is. But out of respect for the happy couple, I leave it a mystery. 

The sharp heels of the sensible shoes that Pascal's assistant is wearing suddenly come back into earshot. She warns me to be ready with my stuff as “they” will be home soon. I don't think twice about her words before hauling ass back to the couch and trying to pull myself together. It's not long before I hear the front door open. Amy (Pascal's assistant that I had only just remembered the name of) runs to the door. I walk slower behind awkwardly, not wanting to intrude (despite the fact that I had spent the last ten minutes snooping around what was essentially a stranger's house). I peek round the corner to be greeted with Pascal's broad back. He is facing away from me, talking to his assistant lowly. His assistant finishes speaking and moves past me, wishing me luck in passing. Pascal doesn't turn around to greet me yet; in fact, he drops down onto one knee to reveal to my utmost shock his wife. Neither of them pay me any mind as he begins untying her shoes for her, ever the gentleman everyone believes he is. 

It's not a second later that the man of the hour turns around to greet me. He smiles widely at me, and I find myself blushing slightly at his unwavering eye contact as he introduces himself. He only introduces himself by his first name, not something I find often when meeting famous people; they are often eager to give me the name that everyone knows and loves them by. It seems a bit of a strange phenomenon in Hollywood that has missed Pascal. His wife then steps forward to introduce herself. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to the millions of jealous fans, but Y/N Pascal is strikingly beautiful; even as I meet her in her own home with no makeup, she glows ethereally with a striking smile that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. In that moment meeting her I quickly see why Pascal holds her in such admiration.

Much to my disappointment, that is the first and last time I see her during the interview. Pedro ushers her away somewhere out of sight with a protective arm around her shoulder. I can hear him mutter to her lowly, promising to be quick. Before kissing her goodbye with an "I love you." It makes my heart ache with a longing. Much like the rest of the internet, I wish I had a man like Pedro Pascal. We chat for a while, while exploring his house, he speaks passionately about his career, which he clearly loves. He has a flame behind his eyes as he speaks about his long-winded love for the cinema. He tells me stories of his famous friends that are featured on his walls. We laugh together, and he very much reminds me of an old friend. Even though I should be interviewing him, I let him talk, rambling on about things that I didn't find important enough to put in this interview, but they certainly put a smile on my face. 

The house is beautiful; it's decorated nicely and feels authentic and homely. It's not massive, not overly obnoxious in the way many celebrity houses are; it's still big, the kind of size that screams loving family. I don't mean to make assumptions, but it almost feels like it's been brought with the idea of a growing family in mind. I complement the house easily. Pedro smiles at me. For the first time in the interview, he refers to his wife. He tells me that he hadn't cared where they lived; “anywhere is home when you are with someone that you love,” but insists that she had loved the house the moment they first saw it. "She has better taste than me,” he tells me with a loving glint in his eye. "She did a good job.” I compliment, he nods and smiles, "always thought I was biased 'cause I’m married to her, but glad to know it's not just me." I feel awfully privileged to get an insight into Pedro's fondness of his wife. It's not often that he speaks about her publicly; she gets mentioned in passing during interviews and is often spotted at events with him, safely away from the cameras, but it's clear to the general public that his marriage is a part of his life that he wishes to keep away from public scrutiny. 

Its towards the end of the interview that I do ask him about his marriage. We walk past a wedding photo that depicts him and his lovely bride squashed together on one seat, smiling widely at the camera. He doesn't say anything when he notices me peering at the photo. I ask him carefully if he thinks being a married man has changed him. He ponders for a second. "Probably,” he answers me carefully. It's not the response I had expected from him, so I quickly encourage him to go on. "I suppose it has in a way,” he continues. “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?” I smile and nod at his explanation. I understand what he is saying—such a sweet sentiment that it makes my heart warm. 

We don't speak for much longer after that; he briefly mentions a few upcoming projects, which he seems excited for. I ask him what he has planned next, after his next few big projects are done. He hesitates for a second. “Truthfully,” he says, “I plan on taking a step away for a bit.” I ask if he wants to settle down more. “Yeah, that's part of it; I mean, I’m not getting any younger.” He tells me, “Things are changing soon, and I just want to be settled with my family.” He finishes. I wonder for a moment what he is referring to when he mentions these soon changes; I don't ponder on it too long; much like a crazed fan, I have a few theories floating around in my head. 

We wrap up the interview from there; he is as polite and gracious as he has been the entire time, shaking my hand and thanking me for my time. I try to thank him for the interview and for letting me into his house, but he simply shakes his head at me, insisting it was his pleasure. He disappears soon after that, saying he has something to attend to (and speed walking in the direction that his wife disappeared to). I'm left to see myself out; I don’t snoop too much after I’m left alone. I make my way back to the front of the house, peering around as I go. I peek inside one room that appears to be in the middle of some kind of renovation or do-over. There are multiple pieces of yet-to-be put together furniture on the ground as the walls look to be in the middle of being painted a pastel purple color. 

I’m about to leave when something catches my eye—on the table by the front door, which has various bits and bobs scattered over it, but none of these catch my eye. I step closer to get a clearer view of what appears to be a small black and white photo. I quickly realize what it is: tucked beneath the wallet I had seen Pedro place down before our interview began is an ultrasound. I smile knowingly as my theory is proven correct; the Pascal family is about to be adding another member. 

Congratulations to Pedro as his wife on the upcoming addition to their family.

[georgiapeach30513]

A Snowflake Melts, Part 3

Summary: it's spring time...or is it?

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, stalking, voyeurism, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You take a glance out the window, eyes raking over the still powdery white lawn. Winter is lasting too long. You had chosen this place because of its long winters, but this has gone on far longer than anticipated. You catch a glimpse of Steve, tending to the animals with a much larger Sugar Cookie and Mistletoe trailing behind. He looks towards you, winking, and your cheeks flare up like the heat of coal.

You look down to the sourdough, trying to avoid his lingering gaze. Steve gives you a boyish grin that you don’t see, his face just as heated as yours, despite the never ending snow. The two of you had too many moments of getting too close, and still it isn’t close enough. You don’t know how much longer you could withstand not touching him.

Especially if the temperature continued to plummet. You fear for the livestock. They’ve been cooped up all winter, and there should be signs of spring arriving. Sighing, you take a glimpse at your phone. You know what you have to do. Your dad had a busy Christmas season, and now he’s in a hibernative state until preparation for the next Christmas season begins.

He would know what to do. He would know how to get in touch with Jack, and demand that he stops the winter. This isn’t right, and he wouldn’t be aware of it if you didn’t tell him. Gulping, you pick up the phone. Steve still had a while before he would come back into the house, you really didn’t want to explain either man to each other.

Rolling your eyes, you call up your dad, waiting until his jolly voice answers the phone. Tapping your fingers on the counter to the merry tune, you nearly lose your voice when he says your name. How long has it been since you’d fully heard his deep timbre, “Babydoll!” You want to cry. He sounds like home.

“Hey, daddy,” the overwhelming feeling of just wanting to crawl into his lap hits you like a ton of bricks. He always knew how to make things better.

“I have so much to tell you, but it doesn’t even matter. It’s good to hear your voice. The few photos you’ve shared haven’t been enough. Did you and Jack make up?” You shake your head like a nerd, but your silence tells him everything. “With it being winter I should have known. To what do I owe the pleasure of this conversation?”

“Can I not just call you?” His laugh jingles in the air. Everything he does always seems so magical. He is your hero in so many ways. “Well, it’s still very cold.”

“Some places the winter takes longer to fully defrost, you of all people should know that,” it wasn’t just the cold. It is frigid. Steve could only stand to be outside for short bursts to tend to the livestock, and let the girls run around. They love being in the snow.

“There’s no patches. Ste — umm, the lake is still frozen. There’s no melting to see earth. And the snow is still falling,” silence befalls the conversation, and you can only hope it’s a good thing. Your father rarely involved himself in Jack’s business, but Jack to your knowledge has never been so vindictive. His superior is your father.

“Daddy, his tracking works better in the winter. I swear I smelled peppermint, and Missy hissed at me to get back inside,” your father didn’t want to believe that Jack could be mean to you. But he wouldn’t never deny Mistletoe’s unwavering intuition concerning you. She is special, and she takes her job very seriously.

He takes a deep breath in, a low growl spewing out of his mouth, “I’ll take care of it,” the line ends quickly, and you turn your phone off. Laying it on the counter, and watch Steve. You hate to call it frolicking, but you didn’t know how else to describe it. He runs around with the girls in the snow, smiling and teasing them. Missy looks to be playing a game of tag as she bounces between the two of them.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, and you wish that you could be out there with them. Frolicking in the snow, and throwing snowballs at Steve. His cheeks are more red when he’s outside. The prettiest shade of pink. You’re happy that they had someone that could get them out and running.

Nearly returning back to your bread, you notice Missy pausing. Her crystalline eyes darting around the clearing before a gut wrenching scream echoes through the forest. You watch in terror as she sprints to the house, and Steve and Sugar Cookie follow swiftly. They didn’t know what her battle cry was for, but you did. You take tentative steps away from the window. He’s here.

Too scared to even start pulling down the blinds. Huffing and rustling noises sound outside, and you collapse on the floor. Scooting away from the entrances and windows. Clenching your eyes as you cover your face. Rocking back and forth when Missy hisses as she approaches you. Her thick muscular body stalking around you. Followed by Sugar, and you look up to see Steve bring in a wheelbarrow of firewood before he slams the door shut.

He makes quick work of placing the board over the door. He stomps around the house, closing every blind and curtain before he sits on the floor behind you. Steve wraps his arms around your body, and he rocks the two of you much slower than you had been. A steady rhythm before you even dare to speak, “Why did she scream?”

You don’t know if Steve happened to see anyone, or if it was just her instincts. There’s a reason she was yours, but you were also hers. And she immediately liked Steve, even brought him to you. It’s something you struggle with ignoring. It meant something good.

“I believe she smelled peppermint. You want to tell me about this ex?”

“He’s a bounty hunter. The best in the world, and he flourishes in winter,” your words clip off as you look up. The cabin is cast in so much darkness and shadow, and the wind roars outside. Your father clearly spoke to Jack. “There’s going to be a blizzard,” you answer with finality. “The cows and horse?”

“They were fed, and I made a covered cat walk to get to the barn earlier this winter. Nothing will stop me from getting to them. Not snow, not ice. But we’re not dealing with a normal man are we?” You shake your head no. It’s too difficult to explain everything. “Peppermint. Is it like your never ending scent of marshmallow?”

“You smell me?” Everything is caked in terror right now, but Steve can smell you. Mortals didn’t have the gift, but he smells you. That can’t be just luck or coincidence. That’s fate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. He slides his body from behind you to in front of you. You two stare at each other, sitting on the floor like children. “It’s a very strong scent. Sometimes you smell like roasted marshmallows,” you look away from him, while your embarrassment radiates through your body. He could smell the change. Did he know what that change meant? Did he know that whenever the two of you fell asleep, and you woke up with his arm around you that your body burned for more than his arm.

You’ve tried to remain cool with him living with you because he’s been the biggest help. But simply put, you want him. You like him. You want to feel him all over your body. “What do I smell like?” A bit of pink stains his cheeks, and you look down at your lap, wondering if he’s been feeling the same way you do.

“It depends,” his brow cocks up as he looks at you with a mischievous grin. “Most of the time you smell like pine. Fresh, a bit of darkness, but also bright. But sometimes — sometimes your scent is like burning embers in a fire. That brightness is still there, but it’s smoky, and…deep,” you gulp, and Steve shuffles around on the floor. Making it no secret of adjusting himself. Surely you aren’t alone in these feelings.

“Why,” Steve clears his throat, his eyes cast down your body, staying on your neck and chest. Your body heaves with how deeply you’re breathing. “Why does one’s scent change?”

“Well,” your throat is parched, and you need a tall drink of water, or just him. You aren’t sure, but you’re not the only one uncomfortably swishing around. His scent is so heady and deep that it makes you dizzy. Your vision blurs everything out, but him. He’s more clear than you’ve ever seen him before. “Generally speaking, it’s during heated moments.”

“And what does that mean?” He smirks. Is this flirting? Is he toying with you because he wants you to be explicit about why his scent is changing?

“When,” you close your eyes softly, unable to look at him anymore because emotions are running like crazy in your mind. You try to focus on anything but the quickened beat of his heart. You’d heard about how scents of true mates mimicked one another in some way. Your dad smelled like cinnamon, and your mom like cookies. They complimented each other.

You forced yourself to believe that marshmallows and peppermint worked, but you were the warmth, and he was the cold. You are the very heart of Christmas, while he is the crystal on the trees. Steve’s scent is warm, and harmonizes with yours, and you’re terrified as to what that means.

“Holly?” He pries for more information. His body scoots ever so slightly closer.

“When your scent gets darker like that it’s usually because you’re aroused,” you look away from him quickly, but he captures your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, this close proximity is getting to me. Fear is elevating it. And…”

“You don’t find me attractive?”

“I didn’t say that,” your voice is timid as you look at him, wishing you could shrivel up inside yourself. His eyes flick down to your mouth, and you forget to breathe. It was only a split second and it stole your thoughts. “You know you’re attractive.”

“To you?” You nod your head, and he inches even closer, “Breathe,” impossible. You cannot breathe currently. You’re struggling to stay afloat here. Your body screams for him, and your mind is saying there’s a blizzard outside due to Jack’s anger of needing to cut winter, and let the spring prevail. He is probably running through the woods looking for you. He’s close, but Steve is closer. “I’m right here.”

Steve holds your gaze, and you wish he’d just close the gap. Wish he would end your misery, and judging by the tightness in his pants, his own. What did you have to lose? You’d been here for months with Steve, growing to know him. And nothing happened. The most that had happened was snuggling. Giggling. Smiles. Fun. Warmth despite the cold. Home.

It’s hit you in this moment, while you missed your parents and ‘home’, you’d miss Steve even more. He is home. Wherever he is, you want to be.

“Kiss me,” you whisper because you dread the rejection that’s about to follow. Instead Steve adjusts himself to his knees. Leaning forward too slowly, “Steve?”

“I’m taking my time, but I do plan on kissing you,” he studies you from this angle and closeness. Looking at you like he’s never seen you before. Never seen anyone but you before. Everything freezes and stands still as you study him. Nothing before now mattered, and nothing else will ever matter but him. Home.

The two of you create a snow globe with this tiny little cabin. The snow may swirl around outside with Jack’s fury, but you’re safe with him. Right where you belong. Jack’s need to isolate you, made you want to truly be alone, and in that journey, you found Steve. A friend. And now…

He inhales briskly before he closes the gap. A tingle of a snowflake surges through you the moment you touch, and then your body lights up with a cozy fire. Immediately you pull him back with you as you lay down on the floor. His body hovers over you, and this just doesn’t seem enough. Months of being separated by clothes, and all you want is him all over you, and in you. Two people becoming one.

His tongue instantly brushes against your lips, and hungrily you open your mouth to grant him access. Home. You can’t explain it. It’s just a perfectly fuzzy feeling. Like Christmas morning with people you love. People that you need in your life, and you claw at the material daring to keep the two of you separated.

Howling winds beat at the doors and windows as each of you pull and tug desperately at the other's clothes. Swirling hands and arms wrestling to get each other naked. To feel him in the depths of your soul. Your hand runs up his bare chest, resting over his heart, and you take comfort in knowing his heart is bursting to get out, too.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks. Giving the two of you a moment to realize that you are as naked as the day you were born. You hadn’t even given yourself a chance to stare at the most perfect man in existence. Hadn’t even gawked at the steel rod he’s kept hidden. Has it been as hard for him these past few months as it has been for you? “We can wait.”

He tries to keep his eyes on yours, but he curiously glances over your body. Tracing the gentle curves of you, until he sees your weeping cunt, and a squeak exits his mouth. “I don’t want to,” he grips tightly to the base of his cock, and smooths it through your folds. Your mouth gapes open at the erotic feeling of his wet skin on yours. You’ve never wanted anything more.

“Steve, I want,” his hips jut forward, and the crown of his cock rests at your entrance. “I want you.”

“Shh,” he looks down between the two of you. Silently gawking at his head just kissing against your entrance. “They say when a woman really wants a man,” his mouth lifts into a smile, while yours turns into an O. Arching your back, while you look up at the ceiling. “That her body just sucks him in.”

If you didn’t see it happen or feel it, you would laugh and think he was crazy. But your cunt pulls him into you. Sucking him like a lifeline, and he sinks into your wet heat slowly. Making your body mold to him. Letting you feel every ridge of his cock, and follow the vein on the underside of his length. He doesn’t stop until he is balls deep, and the cabin rattles. Shutters trembling when he fully seats himself into you.

Your arm wraps around his neck because you’re obsessed with this feeling. The feeling of having him so close, and still it didn’t feel close enough. The lights fade in and out. The power suffering from the connection, but you still only see Steve. You see nothing but the man that changed everything.

Grunts, sniffs, snorts, howls, screams, and a world of horror rages outside your bubble, and you don’t hear the torment of Jack’s wrath. The storm of his power failing to break in, and rip the two of you apart. You don’t hear the lashing of his anger. Water immediately turns to ice. You only hear Steve’s heartbeat.

Steve pulls himself out of you, snapping his hips quickly back in place. The feeling of not being in you, torturing him to the point of a quick return. Grabbing onto his ass, you pull him more into your depths. Pleasure wraps you into a cocoon with every roll of his body into yours. Had it been so long or was this really that great? You’re guessing it is that great because immediately you're dumb off him.

Your vision is blurry with anything that doesn’t involve this moment. Hell is happening in the forest. The demons of winter come out as reinforcements for Jack, but inside is the brightness and warmth that winter can have. The Spirit of Christmas being reborn, and coming into its own power. Sobbing out his name when a crash of lightning rockets the most intense pleasure in your body, and Steve halts his movements to stare at you.

“What was that?” He smiles down at you.

“I wanna ride you,” you knew Steve was a strong man, but the ability he has to lift you up without leaving your warmth. He walks you over to the couch. Sitting down, and immediately you start bouncing on him. Bringing his hands to your chest, letting him knead the spheres, while you ride him. Pressing your forehead against his. Breathing in his smoky scent. Fusing the two of you together for all eternity.

Breathing so deeply you see stars, and you crash your lips into his like your life depends on it. Swallowing all his moans, and all his sweet pleasure. Because each of you owns that. You’re claiming the other’s euphoria as your own.

“Son of a bitch!” Jack curses. Looking up to the sky when another crash of lighting lights up the cabin and your silhouette. “Such a fucking whore!” He kicks a tree, knocking it down to the forest floor. Bringing other trees with it, creating so much chaos, and you don’t falter your movements. You hear nothing.

“No! Nonononono!!!”

His eyes turn to pure ice. Gathering up all the cold he can muster until a figure lands in front of him, punching him in the chest. “That’s enough of that,” he cracks his neck as he looks to the cabin. Another round of lightning illuminating the two of you.

“You get off on watching your ex? I’m sure her father wouldn’t think too kindly of this temper tantrum.”

“Why are you here?” Jack grunts, and crawls out of the snowflakes. He glares at the head of the soldiers of winter. He’d known where you were all along. Of course he did.

“Well, I am her personal bodyguard, and your time is up. You’ve extended winter, were told to cut it out, and now you’re sorely pissing me off by making this storm, and more damn snow. She doesn’t realize you’re even out here, you know why, don’t cha?” Jack glares up at the tall soldier. His eyes are nearly as icy and cold as his own.

“There’s nothing you can do now. You chased her right into the arm of her mate,” it’s the very thing Jack has been refusing to admit. To see. The reason he was trying to break into the cabin, and stop this foolishness. You belonged to him, and instead, just like the whore you were, were spreading your legs for an idiot.

“He’s a mortal!” Jack growls. He bounces up, and stands nose to nose with the soldier. “He’s nothing. He’s not good enough for her! She belongs to me, and I will destroy him!”

“Are you threatening the Spirit of Christmas’ mate?” Jack doesn’t back down, but the soldier sees in his eyes the fear. “You’re already on probation. You were supposed to return north.”

“And what about her!” He shouts, and it isn’t lighting that lights up the house, but something else entirely. A warm glow encapsulates you and Steve, and the soldier grimaces as both of you scream out in pleasure. And the glow remains, and all anyone can see is you two sharing breaths.

“It’s done. You can’t fake that, and he’s not ready. They have seasons to get through. And nowhere does it say she belongs north. You do. So get your ass back where it belongs, and deal with your consequences. She wasn’t ever for you. You dulled her light. You were with her for years, and never could produce an heir. Because she wasn’t yours!”

“You’re playing the old man’s politics again, soldier. It doesn’t look good on you,” Jack cocks up an eyebrow, but the soldier knocks him again, sending him to the icy floor. “Would you stop?” Jack had forgotten how deadly the soldier could be.

“Go home.”

“I don’t want to. I have business to attend to.”

“Go home!”

“She is mine!”

“She’s been fucking claimed, you creep. Do you see that glow? Do you see the two of them wrapped in it? If you stayed in contact with the boss you would have known,” the soldier looks back to the cabin, and still that glow radiates around the two of you. Growing brighter. Warmer.

Jack rolls his eyes as he starts to walk deeper into the woods. “The fucking cat again?”

“She’s not an ordinary cat. You hate her because she’s never liked you. Kris just tolerated you because he thought you made Holly happy. And you’re not walking that way,” Jack freezes, and spins around to glare at him. “You’re coming directly with me. The boss wants a private word with you, and I’d meet with him. You’d hate to be demoted. Again.”

Jack’s full arm points towards the cabin. Annoyed that the soldier is ignoring you laying down with a mere mortal. Hadn’t even let him slip out of you. The two of you were sickeningly just staring at each other, “Now that you’re gone, those two will have some peace and quiet, and she can go outside, and enjoy the snowflakes, like she’s supposed to,” Jack grunts again, but the soldier grabs his arm roughly, and they disappear with a flicker.

You tremble in Steve’s arms, but his soothing hands on your back calm you slightly. That was new. All of it was new. Like you’d never had sex before. Nothing has ever been or felt like that, “That was magical,” he pants, looking across your glistening skin. He starts ghosting his lips over your shoulder. Looking so beautiful, the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

You should tell him. You should tell him everything, but you can’t. You’re terrified that he will run. You just need more time. Let him see you in your element. Unafraid of the outdoors. Missy meows loudly, and you jerk your head towards her. He was gone. But he was here. Lifting up Steve’s hands to your mouth, you kiss his knuckles, “Winter’s over.”

“Holly it was brewing a blizzard earlier. Winter isn’t over.”

“If you say so,” you know deep down inside of you that winter is over. He’d returned. Somehow you just know that this snow wouldn’t last. By tomorrow afternoon, you’d see a patch of earth, maybe even some green. His power couldn’t hold the winter any longer. It had overstayed its welcome, and now spring can prevail. And you can join Steve outside tomorrow. A new adventure awaits.

“How does this work?” He asks, kissing around your neck, and you hum in question. “Are you on anything? Are we taking a gamble here?”

“Are you asking about pregnancy?”

“Yeah,” he looks up at you confused, and you give him a sweet smile. “I’m not opposed, but it’s very early,” you couldn’t tell him that your window with pregnancy was during a true winter. While not impossible, it is extremely unlikely to happen.

“I’m not, but after this time, maybe we should be more careful,” you see what he’s thinking. He didn’t have a supply of condoms with him. “Just pull out. I trust you,” you pull him in for a sweet kiss, you’d never tire of this.

“Are you worried about your ex?” You shake your head no. Jack could never hurt you again. Well, almost never. At least his powers would be drained until next winter. “Are you going to come outside and build a snowman with me tomorrow?”

“He’ll probably be a teeny tiny snowman,” you didn’t have the heart to tell him that snow outside was not going to last. You didn’t want to terrify the man. Leave him with more questions before he ever works through his feelings with you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you smile, kissing him as you answer yes. “Okay. Me, too.”

And everything would be okay. Everything is going to be okay.

“You girls stay away from the cows!” Steve yells over to Mistletoe and Sugar Cookie. Giving the two of them a disapproving look because Missy wants to play. He clears his throat when the stubborn cat takes another step towards the cows.

“Steve,” you giggle trying to pull him back down to the blanket. “Just sit back down. Leave them alone. The cows enjoy the attention,” you always let them get away with everything. “Here. What do you think of this?”

“Everything you make tastes delicious,” he says with a grunt, falling down onto the blanket, but more importantly onto you. Your cheeks heat up with unashamed happiness as he starts nipping on your neck. His body crawls more on top of you, and you playfully try to get him off.

“Steve! We’ve got to eat.”

“Mmm, I’d rather be eating you.”

“I’m sure you would,” your voice darkens, and Steve jumps off you. Sitting up straight, and starts to pick at the fruit in the picnic basket. “No, that's not fair!”

“If you don’t want me to eat you, then I’ll eat these grapes. I can think of something so much sweater,” he’d been insatiable. So had you. You wanted to try and get some fresh air that didn’t include washing the sheets again.

You groan, falling onto the blanket, and in his lab. “What cha doing?” He asks, looking more like a schoolboy than the sex fiend he is. As much as you love winter and the snow, seeing Steve’s arms exposed in that stupidly tight shirt, and his freckles start to pop out over his nose is amazing. You’ve loved the seasons for their own beauty, but Steve is adding to that beauty. He is beautiful.

You discover something new about him everyday. Every hour, you learn a new story of his, or find a mark on his body, a new move he’s used on you, a new way to make him climax, a new facial expression when you tell a corny joke. It didn’t matter, you just wanted to soak every part of him up. So much newness and you thought you were learning about him when you were just friends in a cabin.

“Winter would have been miserable without you,” he pops another grape into his mouth before he looks down at you. “I’m serious.”

“Are you talking about me or my cock?” You roll your eyes at him. Did he seriously forget the months that you were just cuddling?

“You’re such a teenager! I am talking about you,” his cheeks turn rosy as he looks across the property, avoiding your gaze, and you can’t look at the beauty here, because you’re struck on him. He is far more beautiful than any forest.

“Stop staring,” he giggles, staring down the road that leads to his cabin that he’s never returned to. Well, to stay in. The two of you did bring his clothes here. “I think we should go visit your folks,” he says nonchalantly. Still refusing to meet your eyes. He’s so embarrassed, and it’s adorable.

“I don’t know if you’re ready to meet them.”

“Why not?” He looks down at you accusatory. “I’m fun. And cute. And you love — spending time with me,” holy shit. He knows. He knows but is afraid to say it. It’s more endearing in a way. “Why?”

“It’s complicated. My dad is kinda famous.”

“A famous delivery man? Okay. So you’re not ashamed of me?” You gasp, clutching your nonexistent pearls. “Okay, I’ll take that as you’re not ashamed. So when do I get to meet them?”

“You really want to?” He gives a smile, nodding his head as he lifts you up from his lap. Holding you almost like a doll as he kisses your lips over and over again. “Okay okay! But you have to have an open mind, and you can’t judge. Judging kills the — essence.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“My dad kinda runs on people believing in him,” you cringe, trying to come up with a way to explain things. It’d probably work best with actually seeing it. Everyone believes when they see. “But he does tend to hibernate in spring. Maybe…maybe in fall? Give him some time to get ahead for the winter season.”

“I like these riddles,” he starts kissing you again. Pulling you on top of him as he lays back, his head in the grass and not on the blanket. “He’s a delivery man, he hibernates in spring, Christmas is his biggest season but it’s everyone’s in retail, he needs you to believe him so his ego must be a bit broken, and you flourish in winter. I get why you call yourself the Spirit of Christmas,” he had no idea…

And you didn’t call yourself that. That was a title bestowed to you. But for the first time in your life, you feel like you deserve it. The joy that wraps around your heart with just the simplest of acts makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. Like roasting the most decadent marshmallows.

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