#this strive to push forward is all because of you

[evilminji]

O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>

Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!

Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.

It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.

I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.

That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.

But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.

Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.

Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.

Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?

It looks radioactive.

He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.

Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.

He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.

He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...

Their containment field drops.

They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.

Arthur is sucked in.

Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.

He hits HARD.

But not the ground like he had planned.

He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.

He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.

Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.

Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.

"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"

Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.

More concerning? The injuries.

There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.

"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"

Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[romugh]

SHE'S ON THE FLOOR ROLLING HER EYES AT ME- SJ

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 25th — stress relief, free use, friends with benefits

DAY SIXTEEN || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- scarlett johansson x fem!reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!scarly,

wc- 10 276 words

a/n- wrote this as i kept refreshing ticketswap in the hopes of scoring some last minute CAS tickets, and edited this for the past four days... i'm still not happy with it, but this is what you get! anyhow, got chase atlantic tickets for in april so i'm happy :ppp (recognise the title = smooch!)

synopsis- scarly + needy + strappy? = baby?? if only lol

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches, @lizziewitchy ❀, @simpforlizzie, @riyaexee - comment or dm to be added :)

DISCLAIMER- i don’t believe any of what i write about real celebrities is or would be real, neither do i ever want to shove it down said celebrities faces. in fact, i'd rather they never see these kind of fics.

these fics ARE AU original pieces of fiction using actors as a general basis/face claim, so no need to spam my dm's saying 'writing rpf is wrong' :)

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you lay there, awake, with Scarlett nestled against you. Her body was draped over yours, one hand possessively holding your breast while the other gripped your shoulder tightly, as if she could anchor herself to you even in sleep. The gentle weight of her head resting on your chest brought a sense of tranquillity that contrasted with the restless nights she’d had lately, filled with endless to-do lists and the persistent hum of stress. Now, though, she seemed at peace—almost.

You felt the subtle movements of her body, the way her hips shifted and rocked in slow, rhythmic circles against your pelvis and abdomen. Even in sleep, Scarlett sought comfort, pressing her heat into you as if trying to chase away the tension that had become a constant companion. Soft breaths escaped her parted lips, each exhale slightly ragged as it caught on a moan, the sound barely audible but unmistakably there. Her brows drew together faintly, and her fingers tightened against your skin, clutching as though seeking reassurance, her subconscious yearning for the comfort only you could give.

You didn’t dare to wake her. She had been so tired, her exhaustion carved into the hollows beneath her eyes and etched across the lines of her face. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; it was something deeper, more draining—a kind of weariness that came from giving too much of herself to the demands of work and the expectations of others. She was juggling too many roles, always on the go, always striving to meet impossibly high standards. You had seen her push through days where every smile was a mask, her energy stretched thin, yet she still found ways to keep moving forward, never quite allowing herself the luxury of simply stopping.

Watching her now, you saw hints of the toll it had taken. The slight tremor in her exhale, the restless way her body sought friction, and the quiet whimper that escaped her throat—it all spoke of needs that had been left unattended, desires she had pushed aside because there simply wasn’t enough time or space for them. But here, in the stillness of your shared bed, her defences were down, and her body’s quiet pleading told you what she couldn’t say aloud: she needed release, a moment of surrender to let go of everything that had built up inside her.

As her hips continued their slow, unconscious grind against you, a sense of protectiveness welled up in your chest. You wanted to give her what she needed, to be the balm that soothed her stress away. There had been moments over the past week when her frustration seeped through in small, uncharacteristic snaps—brief flashes of irritability that hinted at just how much she was holding in. The way her voice would rise slightly when she answered the phone, or the way her replies grew shorter and more clipped as the day wore on.

You thought back to last night, when she had come home late again, her shoulders slumped and her gaze distant. When you had greeted her with a warm hug, she had melted into you, but her embrace had been tight, almost desperate, as though she was trying to ground herself in the solidity of your presence. There had been a tension there, an unspoken plea that came out in the way she clung to you a little longer than usual before letting go. Her laugh, when you managed to draw one out of her, had been tinged with a weariness that spoke of more than just a long day—it was the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure.

Now, as she shifted restlessly against you, you could see all the signs, her stress manifesting in the unconscious roll of her hips and the quiet moans that slipped past her lips. She was craving not only the release of tension but the comfort of surrendering control, of letting someone else take the reins so she could simply be. 

With gentle fingers, you brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, watching the faint crease between her brows smooth out at your touch. The small sigh that followed seemed to echo through the quiet room, a sound that stirred something deep within you—something protective and possessive. You wanted to take care of her, to give her a space where she could let go completely. And perhaps that was what had driven your decision to surprise her later, to bring not only her favourite lunch but something extra, something that could offer the kind of comfort and release she so clearly needed.

You knew that later today, when you showed up at her office with the surprise lunch in hand, there would be a moment of recognition in her eyes—a quiet understanding of what you were offering her, not just a meal but an escape. And if she needed more than just a break from her day, if she needed to be taken to that place where she could let go completely, then you would be ready to give it to her. For now, though, you would let her sleep, cradled in your arms, her breath hot against your skin as her body continued to move in that slow, seeking rhythm.

Slowly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb her as she slept. A quick glance at the time told you it was nearly seven. Scarlett would need to get up soon, another busy day at the Outset office awaiting her. You considered waking her gently, but as her fingers tightened on your breast, you decided to let her rest just a little longer. She needed every bit of sleep she could get.

The day moved quickly after that. Scarlett had woken with a groggy smile, briefly leaning up to kiss you good morning before hurrying off to get ready. There was a hint of frustration in her movements as she pulled on a dress and hurriedly applied her infamous “three-step routine” in the bathroom mirror. It was subtle, but you could tell—she was rushing to keep up with the day before it had even begun.

When you made your way to the kitchen to prepare her coffee, you heard her phone buzzing incessantly on the countertop. It seemed as though even before she stepped into the office, work was pulling her away. She grumbled under her breath when she picked up the phone, irritation flashing in her eyes as she scanned through the endless messages and emails. You didn’t comment on it, only offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as she passed by, but you felt the weight of her stress growing heavier by the minute.

Later that morning, as you packed the Thai dishes you’d just made—Scarlett’s favourites, the comforting aromas already filling the kitchen—you glanced at the clock. Time was running out, but the idea of surprising her made you move with purpose. 

You slipped them into a small cooler bag, and you couldn’t help but picture the look of pleasant surprise on Scarlett’s face when you walked into her office. She’d appreciate the gesture, you were sure of it. But you knew there was something else she needed, something she wouldn’t say out loud, and you wanted to be prepared for that, too.

With that thought, you made your way over to your shared wardrobe. Sliding open the wooden door, you rummaged through the lower shelf, past neatly folded stacks of Scarlett's favourite Black Widow pillowcase and spare blankets, until your hand found the strap stored in its leather case. You unzipped the case and pulled out the deep black silicone toy, its length heavy and textured with faint ridges. It wasn’t built for delicate moments like teasing or taking in one’s mouth; it was for pushing boundaries, for reaching places that nothing else could. Its girth was substantial—wide enough to fill completely without room for doubt, designed to stretch with every thrust.

You ran your fingers along the smooth, cool surface before setting it aside to grab the harness. The straps of the harness were made of black leather, worn soft over time from use and care, with an O-ring securely fitted in the centre to hold the base of the strap in place. It took a few moments to adjust the straps around your hips and thighs, tightening each buckle to ensure the harness fit snugly. Once you were satisfied with the fit, you slipped the strap into place, its weight settling low between your legs as you clicked it firmly into the O-ring.

Before pulling your pants back on to leave, you reached for one of Scarlett’s belts—a black leather strip with a gleaming buckle in the shape of a heart, adorned with the red emblem of a black widow spider nestled in the middle. The buckle’s metal was darkened slightly from wear, the edges smooth to the touch. Looping the belt through the harness straps, you cinched it tight around your waist to keep the strap hidden firmly in place.

You took a moment to adjust the angle of the strap and the harness, pulling your trousers over everything until the toy was concealed against your body, its outline invisible beneath the fabric unless one knew exactly where to look. If Scarlett didn’t want anything more than a warm embrace, you could keep the strap hidden. But if she did—if she gave you that look, the one that said she needed you to take charge—then you’d be ready. Either way, you were prepared to give her what she needed, whether that was a moment of emotional comfort or the kind of release only you could provide.

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before grabbing the cooler bag and heading out the door.

You stepped outside, bag in hand, as the crisp late-morning air greeted you. The cool breeze brushed against your cheeks, a contrast to the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds above. With a sense of determination, you slid into the driver’s seat of your car, the leather interior cool against your back. You placed the bag carefully in the passenger seat and buckled up, a flutter of anticipation running through you as you started the engine.

The drive to the Outset office wasn’t a long one, but the anticipation made it feel like the minutes stretched on. The city was alive with its usual buzz—cars whizzing by, pedestrians rushing to their destinations, the distant hum of conversation in the streets. As you navigated the familiar route, your mind wandered back to Scarlett, imagining her sitting at her desk, probably typing furiously on her laptop or going over product launch strategies. You knew her well enough to guess that she was immersed in a whirlwind of tasks, the weight of responsibilities bearing down on her.

With each stoplight you passed, you could feel a rising excitement in your chest—a mix of eagerness to see her and the hope that you could lighten her burden, even just for a little while. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel as you thought of her reaction when she realised that you hadn't actually forgotten to pack her lunch. The idea of catching her off-guard, of seeing that flicker of relief in her eyes, was almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting your arms back around her.

Turning onto the street that led to the Outset office, the sleek, modern building came into view. Its glass façade reflected the blue sky, towering high above the bustling city below. You pulled into the underground parking garage, your car’s tires humming softly on the polished concrete. Finding a space close to the elevator, you parked and grabbed the cooler bag from the passenger seat, taking a moment to steady your breath. The coolness of the bag’s handle against your palm anchored you as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for Scarlett’s floor.

As the elevator ascended, a faint hum reverberated beneath your feet, and you glanced at your reflection in the polished metal doors. The smooth surface captured the outline of your figure—a blend of strength and softness. Your broad shoulders filled the frame, the muscles sculpted from years of dedication and routine, yet there was a distinct femininity in the curve of your waist and the subtle swell of your hips. The light fabric of your shirt stretched slightly across your chest, hinting at the toned definition beneath while still showcasing your natural shape.

The faint glint of the heart-shaped buckle peeked through, just barely visible under the hem of your shirt. The black widow emblem in the centre was a playful nod to Scarlett's iconic role, a small but powerful symbol of your connection, one that spoke of shared secrets and mutual interests. The way the belt cinched at your waist, securing the strap snugly against you, made you feel empowered, ready for whatever the moment would bring.

You allowed yourself a small, satisfied smile, the reflection staring back at you with a quiet confidence that came not just from physical strength but from the knowledge of what awaited on the other side of the elevator doors. As the chime announced your arrival on Scarlett’s floor, you took a deep breath and straightened your posture, the movement of your muscles rippling subtly beneath your shirt.

Stepping out into the office, you let the brisk, cool air of the space brush over you. The Outset headquarters was its usual bustle of productivity, a place where sleek modernity met the frantic energy of constant motion. It was an environment Scarlett thrived in, even when the pressure was relentless. Her office came into view, the glass walls giving a clear sightline to her slender figure moving restlessly inside, one hand pressing a phone to her ear while the other gestured animatedly.

You walked with purpose, your frame cutting a path through the hallway as you approached her office. The slight click of your shoes on the floor echoed softly in the open space. The moment you reached her door, you paused, catching sight of Scarlett’s tense figure through the glass. She was pacing, her brows knit together in that familiar way she did when she was overwhelmed, the muscles in her jaw flexing as she spoke into the phone.

You noticed the fatigue etched into Scarlett’s face as soon as you walked through the door. Her eyes were slightly red from exhaustion, and the lines of tension around her mouth made it clear that she was on edge. The moment she spotted you, a flicker of relief flashed across her features, quickly replaced by a kind of resignation as she let out a deep breath.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, her voice strained and weary. “It’s been one thing after another all morning. Deadlines keep getting pushed up, and I’ve got interns running around like headless chickens. Nobody seems to know what they’re doing, and—” Her voice trembled as it rose in frustration. “I just…I don’t have the time or the patience to keep dealing with every little crisis. I swear, it’s like no one can make a decision without asking me first.”

Her words came out in a rush, each one clipped and hurried as if she could barely keep up with her own thoughts. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead, and you could see the strain in the way her shoulders hunched slightly, the weight of all the things she was juggling pressing down on her.

You stepped closer, catching her eye as you listened without interrupting, letting her vent. She continued, her frustration spilling over into a few harsher words about some pressing deadlines and missed calls from her acting manager. The mounting stress was evident in her quick, shallow breaths, her gaze darting restlessly between you and the paperwork scattered across her desk.

“It’s just been…too much,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t had a second to breathe.”

You moved with quiet purpose, closing the gap between you and Scarlett. Your hands found her waist gently, your touch firm but reassuring. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re doing everything you can.”

She flinched slightly at the contact, a reflexive reaction to the stress rather than anything else, but then her body seemed to recognize the comfort you offered. You guided her back toward her chair, steering her with gentle pressure from your hands, easing her away from the tense stance she’d held moments before. Scarlett's protests died down as you led her to the chair and then took a seat yourself, pulling her down onto your lap.

Scarlett's body sank into yours with a quiet exhale, her initial rigidity slowly giving way as she leaned into your chest. She brought her knees up onto the chair on either side of you, settling into the embrace as if finally allowing herself a few seconds of rest. You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close, the warmth of your body providing a buffer against the coldness of her stress.

“Just take a moment,” you murmured against her temple, your voice steady and calm. “You’ve been carrying so much.”

Scarlett rested her head on your shoulder, her breath coming out in a shuddering sigh. “Feels like there’s never enough time,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and fragile in a way that twisted something inside you. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, as though clinging to the security of having you there.

You ran a hand through her hair, letting your fingers glide soothingly over her scalp, down to the nape of her neck, where you massaged in slow, steady circles. “There’s always time to take a break,” you assured her. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes.”

Her shoulders sank further, and you could feel the weight begin to lift ever so slightly. The quiet, intimate space you’d carved out in the chaos of her day wasn’t just about distraction or indulgence; it was about giving her permission to let go, to feel cared for in a way that went beyond the demands of her hectic world.

You brushed your fingers through Scarlett's hair, gently separating the strands as she curled closer against you. Her breathing had steadied, the tension in her muscles melting away little by little. The familiar comfort of her weight on your lap felt grounding as you began to braid her hair. Each twist and fold of the strands was a rhythmic motion, a quiet act of care that seemed to ease the lingering anxiety from her frame. Scarlett nestled into your chest, her head tucked beneath your chin, the warmth of her body melding with yours.

She was still exhausted, too worn out to notice anything beyond the calming sensation of your hands weaving through her hair. The strap beneath your clothes remained hidden, out of her mind and out of sight. You worked slowly, not wanting to rush the moment, letting Scarlett sink into the quiet reprieve, her fingers resting lightly on your biceps as you braided with steady precision.

The sound of the office door swinging open shattered the stillness. Jasmine, one of the newer interns, stood hesitantly in the doorway, a stack of folders clutched in her hands. “Um, Ms. Johansson, I just need you to—”

Scarlett's head snapped up, a frustrated sigh slipping out before she could hold it back. “Jasmine, this isn’t the time,” she cut in sharply, her voice carrying a bite that was usually softened by her usual patience. “I’ve told you a hundred times, if it’s not urgent, then leave it on the desk downstairs. I don’t have the bandwidth to handle everything right now. And please, call me Scarlett, I’ve told you already.”

The young intern stiffened at the reprimand, mumbling a hasty apology before backing out of the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, Scarlett slumped against you again, letting out a weary breath. “These interns are morons,” she mumbled, her tone softening with a reluctant fondness. “But I still love them.”

A chuckle rumbled in your chest at her words, the familiar warmth of your amusement bringing a slight smile to Scarlett’s lips. You could feel her body relax a little more, giving in to the comforting weight of your arms around her.

“Do you feel like eating?” you asked gently, stroking a hand down her back in soothing circles. Before Scarlett could answer, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl that filled the quiet of the room. Scarlett let out a small, tired laugh, her head tilting back against your shoulder. “You didn’t pack my lunch or snacks or even make breakfast,” she mumbled in a small, almost whiny voice, her cheeks flushing with the faintest hint of embarrassment. “But I still love you… I’m just… hungry.”

You couldn’t help but coo softly, tightening your arms around her as you cradled her closer, allowing her to sink deeper into the embrace. You gently brushed a thumb across her cheek, taking in the weary lines beneath her eyes and the slight tremble in her voice. It wasn’t just hunger. It was a need that ran deeper, a desire for someone to take over for a little while, to let her stop carrying the weight of everything around her. Scarlett wasn’t asking for anything physical; she was reaching for reassurance, for the kind of care that allowed her to let go without the burden of being in control.

As you held her, you could feel her need to be taken care of, not in a sexual way, but in a way that reminded her she didn’t always have to be the strong one. There were times when she could lean on you completely and let you guide her through the chaos. You recognized that this was one of those times, and you wanted to show her that she could let go and be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

Before you could continue coaxing Scarlett into taking a break, the door creaked open again, this time revealing Kate. She took one look at the two of you, immediately picking up on the subtle shift in Scarlett’s posture and the protective way you held her. “Hey, I just wanted to check in—”

Scarlett didn’t respond, her eyes fluttering shut as she nestled back into the crook of your neck, ignoring the intrusion completely. Without a word, you lifted a hand, signing to Kate to give you both a little time. She gave a knowing smile, the kind that carried sympathy and understanding in equal measure, mouthing, ‘take care of her.’

You nodded appreciatively, watching as Kate quietly exited the office, pulling the door shut behind her. With a reassuring smile, you reached over and pressed the button that made the walls go from transparent to an opaque blackish tint, effectively sealing the room from prying eyes and granting Scarlett the privacy she so desperately needed.

Now cocooned in the peaceful dimness of the room, Scarlett seemed to relax even further, her breathing evening out as she sank completely into you. The weight of her exhaustion was palpable, and as you held her, you felt the silent gratitude in the way she clung to you, allowing herself, just for a moment, to be taken care of.

As began to feed Scarlett, it became increasingly clear just how much she was depending on you to guide her through every motion. She didn’t even lift her hand to help, allowing you to bring each bite to her lips and waiting passively for the next, her eyelids fluttering lazily shut between each mouthful. Her body moulded against yours, completely relaxed as if she’d given up any pretence of staying in control. You held her securely, making sure each bite was small and manageable, soothing her with your touch as you rubbed slow, steady circles against her thigh.

Scarlett’s breathing grew deeper and steadier as lunch went on, her tension melting away with every gentle caress and each soft word of encouragement you whispered. It was as though she were slowly being untangled, one knot at a time, her exhaustion finally seeping through and sapping what little energy she had left. The last few bites came and went, and when the food was finished, Scarlett rested her head against your shoulder, her arms draped loosely around you.

You set the chopsticks aside and adjusted her in your lap, wrapping her up in your embrace. Scarlett nestled deeper into you, her cheek pressed against your clothed collarbone, and you felt the weight of her beginning to sag. Her breathing became slow and even, and before long, her head lolled slightly as she slipped into a light sleep. You stroked her hair gently, the rhythmic motion comforting for both of you. As you watched her drift off, you couldn't help but notice the signs that had been appearing over the last few days—little hints that Scarlett was edging toward a kind of subspace, almost involuntarily.

It wasn’t the typical kind of subspace brought on by intimacy or desire; this was different, driven by sheer exhaustion and the need to relinquish the burden of control. The signs had been building, subtle at first—a slightly glazed look in her eyes when you’d run your fingers through her hair after a long day, the way her body would lean into you whenever you touched her, how her breathing would hitch when you whispered reassurances that she didn’t have to worry about anything for a while.

Flashbacks surfaced as you continued to soothe her, recalling the moments from the past few days that had hinted at her state. There had been an evening where she’d come home unusually late, her voice thin and frayed as she’d told you about all the missed deadlines and last-minute changes at work. You’d taken her coat off for her, helped her undress, and she’d stood there, motionless, as if she couldn’t muster the will to do anything but let you handle it. She’d sighed so deeply when you’d wrapped a blanket around her, her shoulders finally slumping with relief.

And then there was the morning she’d snapped at you about the coffee grounds being spilled on the counter before having rushed out the door. Frustration had flashed across her features before her expression had crumpled into a look of apology. She’d slumped against you right after, her forehead pressed against your chest as she whispered a string of soft “I’m sorry”s, letting you comfort her without any resistance. It was as if her need to be taken care of had become so great that she couldn't help but fall into it, the strain of trying to keep everything together becoming too much for her to bear alone.

Now, as Scarlett lay slumped in your lap, her breathing deep and even, you recognized the same look on her face—the softness around her eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she gave in to the comfort of your embrace. She was surrendering completely, leaning into the safety you provided and allowing herself to rest. It wasn’t a conscious choice; it was simply what she needed—someone to take over, to give her the space to let go of everything that had been weighing on her.

You continued to stroke her now braided hair, your fingers moving with a slow, reassuring rhythm, as you watched over her.

As Scarlett nestled further into your lap, her body began to shift again, the familiar rhythm of her movements returning. Her hips rolled slowly against you, just as they had that morning, with a gradual, seeking motion that brushed against your pelvis. Your hands moved to stroke her back, your touch soft and comforting, as if you were simply soothing her back into sleep. But as the moments passed, her breath began to catch, the quiet exhalations becoming small, needy whines that told you everything she couldn’t articulate. They were faint, almost imperceptible, yet heavy with meaning, spilling out with every unconscious shift of her hips.

She ground down in one particular motion, her breath catching sharply as if that angle had jolted her back to consciousness. Her eyes flew open, wide and glazed, but not quite seeing—her gaze locked on you, pupils blown, lips parted in a silent plea. You smiled gently, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, one that had slipped loose from the braid you’d woven half an hour earlier. Your hand lingered against her cheek, the tender touch grounding her as she trembled in your arms.

You didn’t move beyond that, didn’t try to push her one way or the other. You simply watched her, letting her find her own pace. Her grinding became more insistent, her hips rocking down harder, and her eyes searched yours with a quiet desperation. Her breath hitched again, the whine that escaped her lips now unmistakably filled with need. It was as though she was asking without words, leaning into you with all the yearning and exhaustion she had kept bottled up.

You ran your thumb along her cheek, brushing over the warmth of her flushed skin as you whispered softly, “You have to be quiet, Scarlett. We’re still in your office.” Your voice was steady, calm, as though coaxing her back to the reality of the room around you.

But Scarlett shook her head, her hair falling loose from the braid, the motion sending a shiver through her frame. She looked up at you with glassy eyes, her voice barely above a murmur, slurred with fatigue and longing, “Please just– make me feel good. Please, need it, need you.” The vulnerable pleas spilled from her lips, her tone so small and fragile, laden with all the need she’d been holding back.

You nodded slowly, your voice a calming murmur as you traced the curve of Scarlett's spine with your fingertips. "Okay, sweetheart," you whispered, “but only if you keep working. I’ll be right here with you…I’m not going anywhere.” Your reassurance seemed to steady her, a small spark of relief lighting up her eyes. She looked back at you, her lips trembling with need, before nodding faintly, as if agreeing to the terms in the only way she could.

Her hands moved to your waist, fumbling as she pushed your shirt and sweater up and struggled to free the strap from beneath the belt. Her fingers were clumsy with anticipation, each tug growing more frantic as she wrestled with the buckle. The blush that crept across her cheeks deepened into a rosy hue when she realised it was her favourite belt—the heart-shaped buckle with the Black Widow symbol a familiar sight. She hesitated for a breath, her eyes widening when it dawned on her just what you’d brought along.

Scarlett’s breath stuttered as the realisation sank in further, her skin flushing all the way down her neck. It was her favourite strap, the one she’d always gravitated toward when she wanted to feel utterly full and stretched to her limit. It wasn’t exactly discreet—meant for deep, satisfying penetration rather than anything subtle. Yet, here you were, prepared to have her on your lap while she tried to continue with her work, the mere thought making her heart pound in her chest.

She shifted on your lap, her dress sliding up as she positioned herself just right. The hem bunched up around her waist, enough to hide most of the intimate act from any wandering eyes. Her breath hitched sharply as she eased herself down, feeling the initial resistance before the strap slid deeper inside her, stretching her with a slow and deliberate pressure. Her moan came out as a half-stifled whine, the needy sound echoing in the small space of the office as she sank all the way down onto your lap. The fullness made her tremble, her thighs pressing into yours as she tried to get used to the sensation.

You shrugged off your sweater, knowing that technically, anyone could just walk in the room. The office was surprisingly cold, and you didn’t want to risk her becoming uncomfortable, so as an extra measure, you reached over Scarlett’s head and pulled the oversized hoodie down over her frame, adjusting it until it covered her almost completely, draping over her like a protective shield. Now, if anyone did happen to walk in, they’d see nothing but a cosy moment—Scarlett resting in your lap, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, looking every bit like she was simply leaning on you for comfort as she typed away on her laptop.

Her hands settled against the desk to steady herself, and you continued to caress her back over the fabric of her dress, letting her adjust at her own pace. There was a softness to your touch, a reassurance in the slow, steady movements that told her she didn’t need to rush.

As Scarlett nestled deeper into your lap, you could feel her surrendering to the moment, inching closer and closer to that delicate line of subspace where she felt safe, cherished, and utterly at peace. The way her breath began to deepen, slow and steady, was like music to your ears. It was a sure sign that she was slipping further into that blissful state of submission, her fingers moving sluggishly over her keyboard as if every keystroke required more effort than usual.

The trust she placed in you was palpable, and it made your heart swell. You watched as she leaned back against you, her body curving against yours, her entire demeanour softening with every gentle caress. It was almost intoxicating to see her give in so completely, the tension of the past weeks melting away as she became pliable in your arms.

To draw her even deeper into that trance, you began to tease her with soft commands and subtle touches, each action deliberately crafted to heighten her anticipation. “Keep working for me, babe,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing. Your fingers trailed along her back, sending shivers through her as you coaxed her further into the depths of her submission.

With every slow stroke, you could feel a different kind of tension building within her. Scarlett's breaths became shaky, little whimpers escaping her lips as her body reacted to your ministrations. You kept her on that precipice, refusing to let her find that release she craved. Hours slipped by, and with each passing moment, you noticed how her arousal grew. She was already so wet, the evidence of her need staining the fabric beneath her as she almost unnoticeably rolled her hips in a rhythmic, unconscious dance, seeking friction against you.

By the time the clock struck 6 pm, it became clear to you just how far she had fallen into that deep mindset. Her expression was one of pure need, eyes glazed over as she looked at you over her shoulder with an almost dazed desperation. The way her lips parted, the soft gasps spilling forth from her throat, and the subtle way her walls pulsed around your strap told you everything you needed to know.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice soft yet filled with urgency. “Make me forget.”

Those words sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire in your belly as you realised just how close she was to losing herself completely. The constant fullness had become a torment for her, a tantalising tease that simply wasn’t enough anymore.

With a firm grip on Scarlett’s waist, you lift her from your lap slowly, savouring every reaction as the thick length of the strap brushes over each nerve, dragging against her sensitive walls. Each inch you pull her away is torturously slow, every movement controlled, intentional, and you watch as her breath hitches, her eyes fluttering shut. Scarlett clings to your shoulders, lips parting with a soft gasp as her body shudders, helpless to the way each nerve is ignited with need. Finally, the strap slips free, leaving an obscenely wet sound in its wake, accompanied by a slick warmth dripping down her inner thighs.

 For a moment, you catch a glimpse of your mark left within her, her entrance still slightly gaping, pulsing, a visible reminder of her submission.

As you guide her to her feet, her legs are shaky, nearly giving out beneath her, but she’s obedient, unwavering in her focus, her mouth slightly parted, breaths coming in shallow waves.

“Good girl,” you murmured as Scarlett sank to her knees in front of you, her legs trembling from the effort. Every inch of her body speaks of surrender, from the lingering imprint of the strap to the way her thighs tremble as she kneels, waiting. You’re captivated, and that familiar thrill rises in your chest, igniting as she stares up at you, ready, trusting, and open to whatever you decide comes next. There was something undeniably captivating about the sight of her like this—kneeling obediently before you, her body still pulsing from the fullness that had just been taken away.

Another gush of wetness dripped down her inner thighs as she stayed on the floor, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the dim lighting of the office. You could see the way her skin flushed as she breathed heavily, eyes locked onto yours with a mix of exhaustion and submission.

“Stay right there,” you commanded, your voice soft yet firm as you reached for Scarlett’s laptop. “I’ll finish your work.”

Scarlett’s lips parted in a quiet sigh as she rested her hands on her thighs, her posture completely surrendered. She looked up at you with a gaze that was filled with trust and need, her body still trembling in the aftermath of the pleasure you had denied her for so long. It was clear she was still deep in her submissive headspace, her mind willing to follow your every word.

You placed the laptop in front of you on the desk, positioning it so that you could type while still maintaining a steady gaze on her. Scarlett remained still, eyes heavy-lidded as she watched your every movement, her breath hitching each time you shifted your attention back to her.

You felt Scarlett’s head grow heavier against your thigh as she began to drift, exhaustion wrapping around her like a shroud. You stroked her hair gently, pity filling your chest as you looked down at her. She was clearly on the brink of falling asleep, her breath deep and steady, her body lax and surrendered. But that wasn’t what you wanted for her—not yet. She needed to stay awake, even if just for a little while longer.

“What would help you, sweetheart?” you asked, your tone laced with gentle authority as your hand continued to comb through her loose hair. The question stirred her from the edges of sleep, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked up at you with a dazed expression. You already knew the answer, your chest tightening in anticipation as you watched her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink.

Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the strap that glistened between the two of you, wet and thick from being inside her just moments ago. The blush on her cheeks spread down her neck as she glanced back up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. Her lips parted, a small, needy sound escaping her as she reached up, her fingers curling around the base of the strap, but you tutted softly and shook your head.

“My princess knows to ask before taking,” you reminded her, your voice a mixture of softness and firmness. Scarlett’s eyes widened at the reprimand, a lone tear slipping down her flushed cheek as she let out a frustrated whine. She immediately lowered her gaze, her face nuzzling against your thigh to shield herself from the weight of your steady, commanding stare.

She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of your pants, her breath warm against your skin as she tried to gather the courage to speak. The struggle was evident in the way her body tensed and then relaxed again, like she was teetering on the edge of giving in to her desire and retreating into herself. You waited patiently, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her scalp as you felt the heat of her blush spread even further.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice shaky and filled with longing as she turned her head slightly to peek up at you, “Can I…?”

Your hand moved to cup her chin, tilting her face up to meet your gaze fully. “Use your words, Scarlett,” you instructed gently, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Tell me exactly what you need, or want.”

Scarlett's blush deepened as she pressed her lips together, her breath coming in short, uneven puffs. Her gaze flickered up to yours, and for a moment, it seemed like the words were stuck in her throat. But she finally found her voice, though it was timid and soft, barely above a whisper.

“Can I… suck your cock?” Her tone was a mix of hesitation and desperate need, her eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

Your brow arched, the faintest hint of amusement curling at the corners of your lips. “And why do you want to do that, sweetheart?” you asked, voice low and calm, your thumb still resting against her chin.

Scarlett hesitated again, her blush spreading to the tips of her ears as she swallowed hard. “B-Because… it helps me,” she stammered, her voice faltering under the weight of her own admission. “It helps me… ground myself.”

Your eyebrow arched a bit higher, and Scarlett's cheeks burned even hotter. Another tear rolled down her flushed face, and she shifted uncomfortably on her knees, the movement betraying just how vulnerable she felt. The sight of her so deep into her own embarrassment tugged at something tender within you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you traced your fingers along her cheek, your touch as gentle as your voice was firm.

“You know this isn’t a strap for sucking, don’t you, Scarlett?” you replied, your tone taking on an almost childlike quality as you tilted your head slightly. “It’s too big, sweetheart. I doubt you could even get half of it into that pretty mouth of yours.”

The humiliation was evident in the way Scarlett’s breath hitched and her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, as though trying to shut out the reality of your words. She hadn’t thought about it—not in the way you were explaining it now—and the realisation only made her blush harder. But then, her gaze found yours again, and the fire of determination burned behind the haze of submission. She shook her head, the movement small and insistent, as though a child refusing to admit defeat.

“I… I can do it,” she whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute. “I’m… I’m a big girl. A good girl.” There was a pleading in her eyes now, a desperation to prove herself, even as she quivered under your touch.

Scarlett's lips wrapped around your length, her breaths coming in soft, needy whimpers as she took you deeper with each bob of her head, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed and glistening. The room was silent except for the obscene, wet sounds filling the air, each desperate suck drawing her further into a space where her only focus was you, and pleasing you.

Her hands instinctively gripped your thighs for support, but your fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her back just enough to make her gasp. "Only please me with that pretty mouth of yours, princess. Hands behind your back," you murmured, your voice gentle yet unyielding.

A soft whine slipped from her lips as she obeyed, her hands slowly moving to clasp together behind her. The moment she relinquished that bit of control, the trust in her gaze only deepened, her vulnerability on full display as she gave herself over to you completely.

Scarlett’s determination shone in her glassy eyes, each tear staining her flushed cheeks and smearing her mascara. Her jaw worked tirelessly, her lips stretching around you as she pushed herself further, cheeks hollowing as she tried to take more of you, to meet your silent approval. She was so close, and the thought of making you proud fueled her every motion. Her breathing hitched when she reached her limit, her throat fluttering around you, but she pressed on, determined to make you proud, the weight of your gaze driving her to keep going.

Tears streamed freely as she strained, her whimpers muffled against you, her resolve unwavering. She was yours—utterly and unquestionably—and that trust wrapped around every hitch of her breath, every soft sob as she looked up at you, wordlessly asking for your approval.

Without a single word, you slipped your hand from her hair to cup her jaw, guiding her gently but firmly, pushing her down further onto the thick strap. Scarlett’s eyes fluttered, her throat contracting as she gagged, and the wet sounds grew louder. She tried to maintain her rhythm, even as tears mixed with her gentle make-up and streaked her flushed cheeks, but she never once pulled back or looked away. Her gaze stayed locked onto yours, wide and glossy, the vivid green of her irises nearly lost in the depth of her pupils.

You brushed your thumb across her cheek, a silent approval, watching the way she responded, eager and desperate to please. Her breaths came in choked gasps between each plunge, drool slipping from the corners of her mouth and trailing down her chin, mixing with her wet remnants already coating your strap. She was a vision of need and devotion, every part of her vulnerable and open, as though she’d surrendered not just her body but her very soul to you.

With every inch she took, she sank deeper, her whole being focused on this moment, this act of submission. The look in her eyes said it all: you were her entire world right now, the centre of her universe. And in that gaze, through her tear-streaked face and soft, muffled sounds of effort and adoration, you saw everything—her trust, her willingness, her absolute need to be yours.

Your fingers slip beneath Scarlett's chin, pausing her as she eagerly works over the strap, her lips glistening, cheeks flushed. You gently tug her back by her hair, watching as her gaze lifts to meet yours, her eyes heavy with a mixture of need and reverence. A quiet whimper slips from her, the loss of contact a sudden ache, but she doesn’t question it—she simply obeys, letting you guide her upwards.

As you guide Scarlett up from her knees, her breaths are still heavy, cheeks flushed a deep red that only adds to the haze of submission in her eyes. Your hands rest firmly in her hair, both grounding and possessive, as she rises, her hands slipping from your thighs to brace herself. The heat of her skin against you, the way she follows your lead without resistance, only deepens the thrill settling in your chest.

When she’s fully standing, you keep that hold on her, savouring the haze in her eyes, the way she’s waiting, hanging on your next move. Her breaths come shallowly, still tinted with the intensity of submission, her lips parted as if they’re still moulding themselves around your strap. You slide a hand to her waist, guiding her step-by-step back until her thighs brush the edge of her desk, a slight shiver running through her at the contact. Your hand releases her hair, trailing softly down her cheek as you turn, carefully moving her laptop to the side and making room for exactly where you want her next.

The moment you step back, Scarlett moves with unrestrained need, perching herself on the edge of her desk. Her hands move purposefully across the surface, sweeping documents and pens to the floor behind her without hesitation, clearing everything that separates her from you. Pages scatter around her feet like fallen leaves, forgotten in the moment as she leans back slightly, resting her hands on the desk for balance. Her parted thighs cradle the space between you, inviting you closer, and her chest rises and falls with each breath, anticipation radiating from her as she watches you.

When you step forward, her hands instinctively find your shoulders, holding onto you like an anchor, her fingers digging in ever so slightly. There’s a look in her eyes—one of complete trust and surrender, mixed with the rawest need. She is wholly yours in this moment, and you know she’d follow wherever you lead, without question. 

With a familiar but sturdy grip on her hips, you pull her close, her warm thighs parting to cradle you as she sits obediently on the edge of her desk, waiting with that unshakable trust and raw need in her eyes. Her hands immediately find your shoulders, clutching onto you as if you’re the only thing grounding her in this moment. Without a moment’s pause, you sink into her, filling her completely. The sheer stretch and fullness has her gasping, back arching as she lets out a guttural moan that echoes through the office.

You don’t hold back, finding a relentless pace that has Scarlett's fingers digging into your shoulders. Every thrust drives deeper, pushing her closer to that raw, untamed place where everything—stress, worry, tension—melts away, leaving only you and her together, bound by the intensity of this moment. Her head falls back, and you can’t help but lean in, pressing a hand gently around her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm as you apply just enough pressure to keep her present, grounded, and so thoroughly yours.

Her breaths become shallow, eyes widening in rapture as you slide three fingers into her mouth. She accepts them eagerly, lips wrapping around them as her eyes flutter shut, sinking further into the rhythm you've set. The way she works her mouth around your fingers, desperate for that grounding sensation, shows just how deeply she’s fallen into her need. She gags slightly as you push in a little further, and you watch, captivated, as her cheeks turn pink once more with the effort, saliva beginning to trail from the corners of her lips.

The framed photo of you two, once sitting so carefully on her desk, topples to the floor with a muffled clatter, but Scarlett doesn’t even notice. Her world is so completely consumed by the feel of you, by the way you’re giving her exactly what she needs, that everything else has faded away. She clings to you even harder, nails pressing into your skin, her whines turning louder, more desperate as your pace grows even more intense, leaving no space for anything but this moment.

Her legs shake as she pulls you even closer, whimpering your name between gasping breaths around your fingers, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm, to you. Her trust, her submission—it’s all yours, and in this pure, raw exchange, you feel her stress, her tension, everything melt away, leaving only the beautiful, messy vulnerability she offers up so willingly.

You hold Scarlett so close that there’s no space left between you, and as your hand slides from her throat to cup her cheek, you murmur soft, grounding words against her lips. “I’ve got you, Scarlett,” you tell her, voice low and steady. “You’re safe. Just let go, baby—I’m right here.” The reassurance, the comfort—each word is like an anchor pulling her back to you as she spirals, her breaths catching in little, desperate gasps. She leans into every touch, every gentle kiss, letting you guide her, fully immersing herself in the trust and safety you've built together.

You feel her need, her trust in you heightening with each stroke, each whispered word, and you can’t help but tighten your hold on her, supporting her through every wave of sensation as she hurtles toward a release so powerful it could only come from the pure connection between you. 

It’s not just sex or making love, not just her body unravelling at your touch—it’s the way she feels seen, cherished, understood. It’s the way you’ve made it clear that nothing matters more than her well-being, her peace. You’d already planned the calls you’ll make, to Kate, to her agency, to give her this week she desperately needs, time to just rest, to be taken care of, with you.

You pick up the pace, pushing her further toward that shattering edge, watching her expression shift, eyes growing glassy, mouth falling open with the sheer intensity of it all. Her body tenses, thighs quivering around you, and you know she’s close, so close. You don’t hold back, murmuring her name, reminding her just how cherished she really is. “Let go for me, Scarlett. I’m here. Just let go, beautiful.”

And when it hits her—a release so overwhelming that it leaves her crying out, voice trembling and raw, her arms are ready to give out, her arched back ready to hit the surface of the desk with a small thud. Her whole body shudders, and you can see her pulse around you as the intensity rips through her, wave after wave, until she’s almost limp in your grip, barely able to keep herself upright. It’s a release that’s more than just physical. You know this moment is everything—safety, trust, the overwhelming knowledge that you love and worship her, flaws and all. One of Scarlett’s hands moves up to cling to your shoulders, nails pressing into your skin as if holding onto you will keep her grounded in this beautiful, freeing sensation.

And maybe, just maybe, you know there’s a part of her—a small, mischievous part that’s always secretly dreamed of this exact moment: of you absolutely wrecking her in her office. But that’s a story for another day.

A surge of need floods through you, and for a moment, you can’t hold back. The way Scarlett looks in front of you, her body open and ready, her trust so complete, ignites something deep inside. You gently push her back to finally hit the desk and slide her knees up, pressing them to her chest, taking in the flushed, glistening sight of her—all red, and achingly sore from how much you’ve already given her. Yet there she is, waiting, craving more.

You start moving again, each thrust deep and deliberate, eyes fixed on where your strap meets her. She’s pulsing around you, slick and needy, her wetness coating the base, leaving a faint, creamy ring with each pull out that only drives you further. Her pussy clenches around you as you thrust, the delicate flesh red and puffy, the way her body is moulding itself around your strap telling you everything you need to know—how much she needed this, how much you’re giving her right now. The red marks around her neck, the remnants of your grip, make your heart race with the raw intimacy, with how deeply she’s let you in, trusting you to push her limits but always knowing you’ll catch her when she falls.

Her face is a masterpiece of pleasure, mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyelids heavy, lashes clumped from the tears she’s shed in complete surrender to you. Her beautiful lips part in that perfect “O” shape, soft little moans escaping with each movement. You watch her eyes roll back, her brows furrowing as she loses herself completely, letting those helpless “hmm, mmhh” sounds spill past her lips in pure ecstasy. The little gasps she makes, the way she trembles under you—it’s everything. Every reaction pulls you deeper, grounding you in this shared rhythm that’s both raw and profoundly tender, each of you finding something you didn’t even know you actually needed.

You feel her building up again, her body tensing, the pull of her muscles around you signalling that she’s close, so close, and you don’t hold back. You thrust with everything, moving in perfect sync with her, giving her exactly what she needs. And as you watch her, the trust, the love, the way her body is opening for you, you know you’ll stay right here as long as she needs you—filling her, grounding her, cherishing her, in every single way.

You see her tightening around you, each tremor intensifying, her body teetering on that precarious edge, and you know exactly what's coming. Her brows knit together, lips trembling, and with one last, deep thrust, she breaks. You watch as the first wave of her release hits, her walls pulsing around your strap, and then, just as you sink even deeper, you feel it—a sudden, hot rush of wetness spilling over, coating the strap, soaking down through the fabric to your thighs.

The base of your strap is slick and creamy, each pulse of her release making it even messier, her wetness spreading as she rides out the crest of her climax. You know you’ve pushed her somewhere she rarely goes. Her muscles contract so tightly, a light, glistening spray that soaks your clothes and the desk beneath, her body surrendering every ounce of pleasure you’ve built up in her. The sight has you captivated, watching the way her release catches the light, a rare and precious surrender that she only ever reaches when she’s completely given over to you.

This is only the third time she’s ever done it, each time burned into your memory like a treasured secret: once after you’d completely ruined her, left her no choice but to let go, and once after you’d edged her past the point of no return. That day, your phone—with which you had been filming—had been left drenched in the aftermath, proof of just how deeply you could unravel her. But right now, watching her face soften, her body convulse with those final aftershocks, you feel like this might be the most intense and beautiful one yet.

Her chest heaves, cheeks flushed, and she’s dazed, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, yet still locking onto yours with that unmistakable look of devotion.

You keep her close, feeling the tremors slowly fade from her body, gently running your hands over her skin, grounding her with each soft touch. Her breaths are still shallow and shuddering, so you murmur gentle praise, each word a steady reminder that she’s safe and cared for, and that you’re here to guide her back. “You did so well, my love,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so proud of you… I’ve got you.”

Carefully, you help her sit up, supporting her as her body relaxes into you. Her gaze is still hazy, her pupils blown wide, and you brush a few stray locks of hair back from her forehead, your fingertips warm against her flushed skin. She leans into your hand, eyes fluttering shut as if your touch alone is helping her find her way back. You take your time, reaching for tissues to clean her (and yourself) up, your movements gentle and patient, each pass of the tissue over her skin a silent affirmation of your devotion.

When she’s settled again, you take her hands in yours, kissing each knuckle softly. “This week is yours,” you say softly, looking her in the eyes as she begins to focus on you, fully present again. “No work, no stress. Just you and me.”

You feel her squeeze your hand in response, a subtle but sure sign that she’s starting to ground herself. She takes a deep, slow breath, the look in her eyes shifting, becoming clearer with each passing second. You stay like that, just the two of you in the quiet of her office, letting her absorb everything, taking the time she needs to process.

And when she finally leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder with a small sigh, you know she’s back.

You hold her close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath against you. She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck, her vulnerability raw and open. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and sincere. “For everything.” There’s a slight tremor in her words, and when you pull back to look into her eyes, you can see the depth of emotion there—a mix of gratitude, trust, and a kind of love that defies words. You bring a hand to her cheek, wiping a stray tear away with your thumb.

“You don’t have to thank me, Scarlett,” you murmur, brushing your lips softly against her forehead. “I’d do this for you a thousand times over. I want you to know that I’m here… always.”

She smiles, the edges of her mouth quirking up even as a blush spreads across her cheeks. For a moment, she just looks at you, as though memorising every detail, every feeling. Then, as if a switch has flipped, her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “Well then…,’” she says, biting her lip, “we might just have to do it again sometime.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Exhibitionist,” you tease, and she laughs, that light, infectious sound filling the room.

“Only for you,” she replies, resting her head back on your shoulder, the weight of her words and the warmth of her embrace settling over you both like a promise.

“Thanks for the food, by the way. I’m expecting dessert for the rest of the week.”

a/n- i don't know how to feel about this one :') hope yuo guys like it x (sorry for the late post! stayed up and wtched AAA (kill me rn, agathario fics coming up.) and fell asleep! second-to-last kt fic tonight!)

[rubysunnday]

blood on your lies

summary: four times Y/N got injured and the one time kaz did

"How many fingers?"

"I didn't hit my eyes."

"How many, Y/N?"

Y/N sighed. She squinted slightly. "Four?"

Kaz narrowed his eyes. "Three."

Y/N pursed her lips but didn't move. Her vision kept swimming in and out of focus. Sometimes Kaz and his concern disguised as displeasure was clear and then a moment later, he was just a black blob.

"I'm -"

"If the next word out your mouth is 'fine', I will deduct your wages for this job and hit you with my cane," Kaz warned, raising his eyebrows an inch.

Y/N wanted to argue. She hated appearing weak in front of Kaz. He was the one person she constantly strived to impress and being injured, again, whilst on a job with him was not what she wanted.

She tried to stand up, putting her hands against the wall behind her, intent on using it to push her up.

"No."

A gloved hand pushed down on her shoulder, forcing her to sit back down on the cobble stones. Y/N relented, her head already swimming. She closed her eyes, swallowing back the bile and trying to breath through the nausea building in her throat.

"You can't go to sleep."

Y/N sighed. She opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the light glowing just behind Kaz.

Kaz's eyes narrowed a fraction and he readjusted his weight, moving to block the light with his body.

"I can't sit on the cobbles all night, Kaz," Y/N muttered, bringing a hand to her head and shielding her eyes.

"Jesper will be along soon," Kaz replied, glancing down at his shoes, inspecting them one at a time. "Then when we get back, you're going to rest -"

" - but Kaz -"

" - and not go on any jobs for a few days," Kaz finished, ignoring her. He raised his gaze from his shoes, focusing on her. "You are allowed to be injured. It doesn't make you any less of a Crow."

Y/N, surprised by Kaz's sudden honesty, nodded, silent. Her eyes began to burn and she harshly wiped them, breathing out shakily.

"Ah, Jesper!" Kaz said, turning to face up the street. "Y/N has a concussion."

It was early afternoon which meant the Crow Club was almost silent. Kaz was sat downstairs on the main floor, his papers and books strewn across a booth table. He didn't need to write down the numbers, but he did, just in case anything happened.

It was only because Kaz was sat downstairs, and not in his office, that he heard the almighty bang, followed by a thud, that came from the basement.

He paused, pen hovering over the parchment. There was a groan of pain and whoever was downstairs muttered, "fucking cupboard".

"Y/N?" Kaz called, setting his pen down. "Did you get into a fight with a cupboard?"

Y/N emerged at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. "I walked into a cupboard," she corrected, her voice muffled as she pressed her hand to her her nostrils. Her fingers came away, tinged with red, and she swore.

"Sit down before you bleed on my floor," Kaz said, easing himself out of his seat. "Tilt your head forward, not backwards."

Y/N followed his advice, sitting down in a chair and tilting her head forward. She pinched her nose, just above her nostrils, and held her hand under her nose, catching the blood that dripped down.

A white handkerchief was thrusted into her vision. Y/N blindly took it, pressing it to her nose.

"Don't forget to breathe," Kaz said, his voice coming from somewhere in front of her.

Y/N raised her eyes and she could just see Kaz's shoes, standing in front of her. "I cannot believe I walked into a cupboard."

"You didn't see it coming?"

Y/N lifted her head, looking at Kaz. "Did you just make a joke?"

Kaz's shoulders moved in what looked like a shrug. "I'm actually hilarious, do you not know that, Y/N?"

Y/N huffed out a laugh, lowering her head one again. "My deepest apologies, sir."

Kaz's lips curled up into a smile.

Kaz woke with a start, his mind racing. A quick look around told him that his was no longer inside the building they'd entered. Instead he were outside, lying on the street.

As Kaz sat up, he became aware of how damp the back of his jacket had become, the sensation sending shivers throughout his body as memories came flooding back.

The wet jacket clinging to his back as he stumbled ashore. How it dragged him down, taunting him to let go and sink back under. Jordie.

Jordie suddenly morphed into Y/N and Kaz sat up, looking around the street for any sign of her. He put a hand on the ground, bracing himself to stand up, when he felt a hand brush his. Or he brushed the hand, Kaz wasn't sure.

The contact sent him back to the cobbles but, as Kaz turned his head, he realised it was just Y/N.

She looked serenely peaceful, lying there on the ground, her arms outstretched slightly. Kaz watched her for a moment, waiting to see the comforting sight of her chest rising and falling. It took a moment for his eyes to focus but when they did, he could see her breathing.

Some part of him relaxed.

Kaz pushed himself up onto his knees and crawled to Y/N's side. Swallowing back the panic and the urge to run away, he leant over her, one hand braced on the cobbles on the other side of Y/N, whilst the over reached up.

His hand hovered over her face for a moment. It shook. Kaz breathed in deeply. He put his hand against her cheek, his thumb moving up and down for just a second.

Kaz bought his hand back and moved it down to her shoulder, shaking her as hard as he dared. "Y/N. Y/N, come on, wake up."

Y/N's head slowly moved to the side as Kaz shook her, the orange light from the street lamp above casting shadows across her face. Kaz shook her again, hard this time. He was feeling water rising around him.

"Y/N!" He yelled and, before he could even think, he slapped her.

Y/N inhaled sharply and groaned, sitting up as quickly as she could, hands blindly reaching out to grip whoever had slapped her. Kaz let her grip his hand, let her realise it was him, and then pushed her back.

"What the fuck, Brekker!" Y/N exclaimed, falling back onto her elbows. "What was that for!"

"We have no time to sleep," Kaz said, wincing slightly as he awkwardly clambered to his feet. He was trying not to show his earlier panic and opting for despair and irritation seemed best.

Y/N groaned again, lying back on the floor, closing her eyes. "I have no idea what happened."

"We triggered something in that room," Kaz replied, looking around for his cane. "Knocked us both out. Then we were dragged and dumped out here."

"How long for?"

"Half an hour," Kaz said, still looking. "Ish."

"Ish? Kaz Brekker just said ish, I must be dreaming," Y/N muttered.

Kaz picked his cane up off the floor - it'd been next to his foot the entire time - and turned back to Y/N. Silently, he held out a gloved hand to her.

Y/N, still disorientated and confused, reached up and grabbed his hand, letting him pull her to her feet, without even realising what had just happened.

"What now?"

"We break back in," Kaz said, already making his way down the street. "Come on!"

The boats in the harbour bobbed about as a wave rolled in and sloshed up against the stone walls. They were mid mission - at the most important stage.

And Y/N couldn't breathe.

She'd been pushed down a staircase earlier on in the day, when the mission had just begun. Whilst Inej had taught her how to fall, it hadn't saved her ribs from hitting the edge of the stone steps.

Once the initial pain had faded, Y/N had managed to keep going. She rejoined the group, got assigned a new task by Kaz, and was on her way to do it when she'd breathed in just a little too much.

The pain had flared up until she couldn't stand. Y/N had perched herself on the harbour wall and had sat there since, trying to get control of her pain.

"I don't recall sending you here."

Y/N didn't even have the energy to acknowledge Kaz. She lifted her head, noted him standing in front of her, and dropped it again.

Pain was coursing through her body and Y/N could feel the tears burning her eyes. Tears of frustration and of pain.

"You okay?"

Y/N forced herself to straighten up, to look at Kaz. She breathed in, felt something twinge, and her shoulders shook as she felt the tears spill over.

"Try and breathe through it," Kaz said quietly, his cane hitting the floor once as he moved closer, leaning against the harbour wall beside Y/N. "I get its hard, but try."

Y/N tried to, forcing herself to breathe beyond the pain. Her nails dug into the harbour wall, the stones digging into her palm.

"When I first broke my leg, the pain nearly consumed me," Kaz said, his words almost lost to the wind. "It's hard, when it gets bad, to think beyond it."

"I." Y/N paused. "I tried to cope." She squeezed her eyes shut. "But it got too bad... and then I couldn't breathe."

Kaz's blazer sleeve brushed against her arm. "Nina is near by."

"No, she's busy."

Kaz dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small metal tin. He flipped the lid open and picked two white circular tablets out. "Here."

Y/N held her hand out and Kaz dropped them into her hand. "What's this?"

"Drugs," Kaz replied, smirking. "The good kind."

Y/N tried her best not to laugh, but her smile grew. "Thanks."

She put them in her mouth, grimacing slightly at the awful taste in her mouth as they began to dissolve. Kaz held out a flask and Y/N took it, swallowing the tablets with what she'd expected to be alcohol but was actually water.

"When it gets bad and I have to keep going," Kaz said quietly, taking the flask back, "I take those. It doesn't get rid of the pain but it helps."

Y/N turned her head, her eyes settling on his. "Thank you."

Kaz just nodded.

Blood was spilling out onto her hands as she pressed the bandage to Kaz's shoulder, trying to staunch the blood. Kaz was sat on the stone tomb, his head lolling to the side, hitting Y/N's arm every so often.

"You still with me?" Y/N asked, pushing her hands harder against his shoulder, the blood dripping down her arms.

"Ahuh," Kaz muttered, his eyes still shut.

Y/N knew he was battling with himself and his mind and didn't take his grumpiness and silence personally.

Her hands were trembling as she pulled the bandage away from his shoulder for a moment, checking to see if the blood had stopped or not.

"How did you get shot?" Y/N asked softly, pressing the bandage back to his shoulder.

Kaz stilled. Y/N squeezed his shoulder, the blood still running, and he breathed in sharply, coming back.

"He was aiming for you," Kaz said quietly, his voice hoarse. "At your... head."

Y/N froze. She took her hands from Kaz's shoulder, happy that the bleeding had stopped. The cloth dropped to the tomb. Y/N stepped back, standing in front of Kaz, her knees brushing his.

"Is that why you pushed me?"

Kaz nodded stiffly. "Didn't expect to get shot, however."

"Don't think anyone does."

"Unless they see the gun pointed at them," Kaz quipped.

Y/N smiled. Her leg brushed against Kaz's and she was surprised when he didn't flinch. He raised his head, gazing up at her. Y/N, for once, didn't fight the urge. She reached out and gently combed her bloody fingers through his hair. Kaz leant forward, resting his head against her stomach.

"I can stop," Y/N said softly.

Kaz nodded against her. "I know."

She let her fingers run down to his neck, never straying further than where his collar sat.

"We're okay, Kaz," Y/N whispered, leaning her head down to rest on top of his. "We're okay."

[leclarifies]

off the grid — II

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 5k

a/n: hello everyone! sorry for the slight delay in posting this part, i was super busy yesterday and couldn't proofread this part. please do let me know if there are any spelling / grammar errors in this part. all of the other parts of this fic will go in the masterlist <3 thank u so much for reading

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“nothing happened in the way i wanted, every corner of this house is haunted.” - gracie abrams, ‘i miss you, i’m sorry’

——— ₊ ⊹ BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX 

"kelly, stop it. we're in public— what are you doing?" max was exhausted with his relationship with his girlfriend. she always made his personal life quite tiring with all of her demands. she harshly pushed him away, not wanting to hear anything else from her boyfriend.

max always tried his best in his relationship with kelly, always listening to her demands, always trying to make him happy, always trying to appease whatever demon that was inside of kelly for the day. but it seemed like his actions were not enough for her.

"no max, i'm done. if you don't want to put a ring on my finger, then it's over," kelly had tears in her eyes before she turned her back on max.

with those last words, she stormed off.

and max didn't bother to chase after her anymore because he, too, was done with their relationship. it was his last straw.

he didn't really understand how it started but kelly started becoming obsessed with the idea of marriage. he had told her in the middle of their relationship that he wasn’t looking for someone to marry. personally he didn’t really want to get married, it came with too much legal issues that he wasn’t looking forward to in case their relationship fell apart.

"what if we got married max?" kelly rubbed her dainty fingers over max's knuckles, max stiffens up at the question before looking at her with a sigh, his look was all that she needed for her to roll her eyes and look away, snatching her hand that was lovingly holding his own.

max didn't understand where this was coming from, he had explained his boundaries very early in the relationship, that he, himself, didn't really understand the concept of marriage or want it.

"love, we talked about this. i don't want to get married, i like things how they are," max touched her forearm, but she moved away from him, a bit too harshly for his liking.

the comfortable atmosphere built around their shared apartment had shattered, and all there was left was the fragments of that comfortable space.

"what if p grows up and she asks, 'mommy, why do you not have a ring around your finger?' then what max?" kelly snapped, standing up with her back faced towards him, not wanting to be near his proximity. max looked away from her, anywhere but her.

"p will understand as long as you explain it to her, why are you so worried about that? she doesn't understand other than the games you install on her ipad and coloring. i seriously don't understand where this is coming from," max tried to stand up and touch her shoulder but she turned around roughly and glared at him.

"it does matter if she understands, what were you thinking?" kelly raised her voice, now getting angrier by the second, "i'm going to be forty soon and still no ring on my finger max, time's ticking and i'm going to have what i want or it's over."

he had caught wind about people on social media bullying her, how they called her a groomer when she approached him when he was young and he didn’t know how to feel about it. 

they all called the relationship "inappropriate" and kelly preying on a young driver, but he didn't think it was at the time. now, he was starting to realize that maybe it was.

maybe she wanted things from him a man her age at the time couldn't give her.

max's mind was clouded when he got in that car at australia, it was hard for him of course. he had a long relationship with kelly but he knew when to stop when he felt tired.

the dnf made it harder on max, fucking engine failure. there were rumors going around, as per usual, on why max decided to dnf that day. a lot of people had assumed it was because of his breakup with kelly but that wasn't the reason but it sure as shit added onto his sour mood.

the season went past and he tried his hardest, scoring points, getting poles, wins. he felt hollow though, he still couldn't get over the break up which was uncharacteristic of him.

max scolded himself sometimes, for loving too much. for giving the people who didn't deserve the love he gave. but sometimes he knew that he was a bit rough around the edges, his personality was a lot and he knew not a lot of people were willing to put up with it.

that included you.

he felt horrible for causing you that much heartbreak but he didn't know how to properly show remorse to you, it was his fault and he knew it. both accidents were his fault now that he looked back and actually thought about what actually happened.

then the incident with you and him, sleeping on him just to find some semblance of comfort.

and for once in his life, he was scared.

not scared that you might hate him even more for trying to comfort you, but more so of the fact that how comfortable he felt when he was comforting you.

but after months of heartbreak, that was the first time he didn't think about kelly.

your rookie year ended on a positive note at least, ferrari had managed to overcome all odds and win the constructor's cup with charles becoming the driver's champion.

on the off-season, as soon as he got home. he entered his apartment he shared with kelly, with her sitting there as if she was waiting for him.

"i'm taking the apartment, you have a lot of money. get yourself a new one."

the words coming out of her mouth were cold, and as if that wasn't enough, she had already packed his things into boxes, thankfully they were labelled and not just strewn about without care.

the first night he had settled into his apartment, he was in his feels. he felt upset, rightfully so. he just got kicked out of his own apartment that he paid for, taken by his, now, ex-girlfriend to live in.

and just his luck, the convenience store down the street (which he thought was going to be open around the clock) was closed.

'why the fuck do these things happen to me when i'm already feeling shitty?' he thought to himself before begrudgingly trudging up the street back to his apartment, letting his feelings out in the elevator, when the elevator doors opened, he was caught off guard by a pretty ferrari driver.

max greeted her with as much warmth as he could muster up, "oh, hi y/n."

"what are you doing in my apartment complex?" were the first things out her lips.

SECOND YEAR ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

you and max never really talked about whatever the fuck happened in that ferrari motorhome that night and you didn't want to. your mental health was already fucked as it is and you didn't want to make it worse for the second season, if you were even getting a seat in the next season.

thankfully, ferrari saw the potential in you and resigned with you for a multi-year contract, up until 2027. surprisingly, you had offers from different teams but refused to meet up with them as you were already signed to the iconic red team.

it was finally the winter break and everyone was off races until next year, it felt good. not having to attend multiple parties every month and socialize with people that you really didn't give a fuck about but needed their networking in order to boost your career.

being a female in motorsports was hard, you had never shared your hardships with anyone. knowing that they probably didn't have the same difficulties as you getting through the ranks.

you remembered the taunts, the teasing looks from the boys you were competing against in the karting days but those looks and the taunts gave you enough to propel you to the spot you had now.

"oh look, it's the girly girl driving today. must be an easy race for you ey?" one of the friends of the boy that you were competing today taunted you near enough so you could hear.

it hurt. hearing those words hurt.

you were 14.

and was just discovering the world of misogyny that the motorsports world was filled with.

the competing driver just laughed and shrugged him off.

your dad had looked at you softly before bending down to look you in the eye, he had heard all of the taunts, seen all of the looks and knew how down you felt in your career, but he always encouraged you to push forward.

"you got this champ, ignore them. you are miles a better driver than he is, go wipe the floor with his ass."

and that you did.

you continued to wipe the floor with his ass that race, the smug look on your face was priceless as you saw him look at you angrily and storm off to cry to his daddy about how a girl just beat him in a race.

the plan was stay at home in monaco until someone dragged you out, but a late night snack sounded nice.

begrudgingly listening to your grumbling stomach, you decided to get up and head to the convenience store down the street of the lavish apartment complex you lived at in monaco.

it felt refreshing just to be out and about in monaco without a care in the world what strategies and what upgrades ferrari would bring the next weekend. it wasn't the hardest job in the world but you told yourself that you deserved this long-needed break.

you exited your apartment and locked it, making sure to bring all you needed, your phone and apartment keys and access keycard. your eyes travelled to the door in front of you with lots of folded but used boxes in front of them.

you wondered if someone had moved in but pushed it to the back of your mind as you heard your stomach grumble again.

okay maybe ramen doesn't sound too bad right now...

you walked over to the elevator and pressed the button, but before you could, the doors opened and you were surprised to see who you were faced with.

"oh, hi y/n," max breathed out, his eyes were puffy and face was red as if he was just finished crying, you were genuinely concerned as he exited out of the elevator, the words stuck in your throat. you didn't know what to say, so you blurted something out.

"what are you doing at my apartment complex?" it sounded stupid, and you quickly reprimanded yourself for it inside.

max locked eyes with you before letting out a laugh, despite the despair that was lingering in his eyes, "you do know that multiple people can live in an apartment, right? that's what they're supposed to do."

you internally smacked yourself on the head before letting out a small laugh as well, the elevator doors closed as it dinged to another floor. you looked away from max, trying to press the button for the elevator to come back but it was useless.

"were you heading out?" max asked as you didn't answer his last question, getting distracted from the elevator going to another floor. you finally looked back at him and nodded.

"sorry for the stupid question, i just didn't expect you to live here. on the same floor as me, no less," you spoke gently, as if not wanting to stir any unwanted drama off the grid in the off season, "but yeah, i was quite hungry so i wanted to go to the convenience store down the street to get a bite."

"it's not open 24 hours, i just left to go see myself," max shot you a small smile, "i mean, if you don't mind, i have some instant noodles if you want any?"

you wanted to decline, just go back to your apartment, sleep the hunger off but your idiotic self blurted out another stupid response.

"sure."

you were settled into his apartment and on his sofa, turns out it was the one right across from you. he just moved in. you also didn't know that max was a cat dad. having two cats lovingly named sassy and jimmy, named based from clubs located in monaco. you wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the names.

max was in his kitchen cooking up the instant noodles that he promised earlier. his cat, sassy— or was it jimmy? it was hard to tell them apart, they looked the same— was curled up in your lap, purring to its heart's content.

you pet the cat gently, liking the way she— or he?— purred. they sounded a little bit like an f1 car which made you giggle a little.

the sound of two bowls being set down in front of you on the coffee table broke you out of your little trance with the kitty, you looked up to see max's soft smile, sitting on the floor across from you.

"which one is this?" you ask as you point to the cat snoozing on your lap, max looked up from his bowl of instant noodles, before responding.

"that one is sassy," max spoke, grabbing a pair of chopsticks that he left on the table as he set the bowls down earlier, "come eat."

you nod as you sit on the floor, still across from him to take the chopsticks as well and start to dig into the instant noodles. it wasn't the best thing in the world but your stomach thanked you for it.

you both ate in a comfortable silence before jimmy approached you and started playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie, pawing at it and making you smile, "hi there, you like my hoodie?" you giggled as you pet the cat gently pawing and biting on the strings.

"excuse him, he's quite the playful one," max said in between bites of his noodles, you paid it no mind. the cute little bugger already stole your heart.

you continued eating in silence with him before thinking back to how you found him in the elevator, puffy eyed and red faced, you wanted to ask but was scared that it might come off as intrusive.

"if you don't mind me asking, are you okay?" you asked, going against your gut, assuming that he would probably do the same for you if he had found you in the elevator crying, "you looked like you had been crying earlier, is everything okay?"

max, who had his eyes locked onto you when you first asked the question now looked away to another part of the apartment, he took a pause before answering your question.

"i moved into this apartment because i broke up with my girlfriend and... it's just hard," max breathed out, as if the answer was tight in his chest, "we were in a relationship for four years, it's hard to let go of something like that, you know?"

you nod before finishing up your noodles, not really knowing what else to say. max also didn't add on top of what he said earlier.

it was only when you were getting up and go and excuse yourself back into his apartment when he said something, "thank you for the instant noodles max, i think it's time for me to head back to my apartment though."

"i- uh— do you want to watch a movie–? with me? or i mean if you're tired you can head back... i just need a little human company tonight if that's fine with you," max stuttered over his sentences and you couldn't help but find it cute for a moment.

you scolded yourself for a second before making another stupid decision for the night.

"okay."

testing the car felt great, no big problems whatsoever. lap times were more than satisfactory and it was time for bed. you were tired. being an introvert meant that there was limited social battery for people and it meant that it was time for bed.

"what are your thoughts on the car?" charles came up to you after you got out of yours, taking off your helmet and balaclava, you shot him a small smile.

"it feels better than last year, i think it's fine. i just have a small issue with the brakes, but so far it's alright. we'll just have to see in the first race," you spoke to him and he agreed with you about the brakes. they were kind of slow to respond to the touch, you had to tell your mechanics about that.

you off season had spent mostly with your friends and family. the occasional dinner at either your apartment or max's but that was it. you haven't contacted the other drivers, and they didn't either.

you had speculated that maybe it was because you were a woman and they were scared of women— that was a joke.

this round of testing was done in barcelona, catalunya wasn't one of your favorite tracks but you managed. you were excited to try out the car in abu dhabi though, one of your best tracks. scoring good lap times even when you were a rookie.

as you retired the car for the night, you took off your racing gear, gloves, suit and all. you wore a simple sweater and some shorts to get back to the hotel, but what you didn't expect was max to come up to you and talk.

"hey," he waved you over as you were about to leave the track, he was seen in some red bull gear.

of course he was.

"hey max," you waved at him, you didn't know whether to feel comfortable in his presence or awkward, considering you did spend a bit of time with him in the off season.

"how was your car? i saw you flying with charles earlier," max chuckled, you shrugged with a smile on your lips, the car did feel great. he wasn't lying when he said you were flying with charles.

"yeah, great speed and control for this year," you told him, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "how was your car? you got your problems from last year fixed?" you asked him, you had heard him complain about his "wagon" a few times when you guys were spending time with eachother in his apartment.

"unfortunately no, i told them that we're still having the same problems as last year. i guess it's better but it's still not 100%," max had told you before gesturing to the exit, "you wanna walk with me to the hotel?"

you nod and just listening to him talk the entire time you guys were walking to the hotel. you didn't feel like talking and he was the yapper in the dynamic so you let him talk your ear off, you didn't mind though.

"—and imagine! sassy was there, behind the door. staring at me like i did something wrong but she was the one that locked themselves inside of the room. i had a punch a hole in the door to get them. it was ridiculous," max shook his head as you guys entered the hotel lobby.

you just laughed and made your way to the elevators, thinking back to that time when you had found him in your apartment building, puffy eyed. i guess that was the start of the healing in your relationship, no longer angry at him but still feeling a little bitter about your could've been maiden win.

"your cats are adorable, i would forgive them," you had spoken softly to max while pressing the button in order to go to the floor you needed, max rolled his eyes.

"they're lucky i love them," max had scoffed sarcastically, "well, what about you? you don't really talk much about your personal life..."

"there's not much to talk about," you shrug and shove your hands in you pockets, your family dynamic was complicated. people who knew you on a deep personal level knew that and you didn't know whether you were ready to spill that particular can of worms to max just yet.

"my family life is not great, but i have friends to help. that's all i can say for now," you glance at max who had his eyes on you, but he nodded. he knew a thing or two about an unstable relationship with family.

"which floor are you staying at?" you ask him as the elevator dinged, trying to change the subject but not being subtle about it, signaling that it was at the current floor you guys were at, ready to pick you guys up and deliver you to whatever floor you desired.

"the twelfth, you?" max had asked as he stepped into the elevator as soon as its doors opened, you followed suit.

"i am too, i guess the drivers are all put in the same floor for ease," you shrug but max shook his head, objecting your statement.

"usually, it's the teams that decide which floors to put the drivers. it's based off of room availability. coincidentally, we just stay at the same floor," max had corrected you, you didn't say anything back to that. social battery more than dead.

you had thought it would be funny if you guys were placed right across from eachother just like at home. the elevator ride was filled in comfortable silence, you appreciated that it never felt awkward being silent for a period of time with max.

as the elevator dinged once again, you and max exited.

"well, i'm off to bed, goodnight max," you wave him off as he went right and you went left, "i hope you rest well, we have a flight to catch tomorrow."

you had walked away and he had too, but you heard something that made you turn around.

"you wanna fly with me?" max had almost blurted out, now you fully turned to look at him, you guys were quite far from eachother.

"what..?"

"i have a private jet, do you want to fly with me?"

"max, what the hell? why do you have a private jet?"

"just answer the question."

"i'll double check with my manager and give you an answer later," you shook your head, him having a private jet was definitely not something out of his character, but you didn't know. he never brought it up on the late nights you would spend with him.

"alright, goodnight y/n," max had a small smile toying on his lips, he was waving before you rolled your eyes playfully and waved back, turning back around to rest up.

he's insane.

there you were the next day, on a flight straight to abu dhabi sat with max verstappen. no one had asked for a ride with him, so it was just the two of you on the plane with flight crew.

you didn't know whether to thank the gods or to curse them out for ferrari not having booked a flight for you yet last night.

you were chatting with him, about and anything except for your cars or the race upcoming in abu dhabi. you didn't want to think about that right now, you had told him at the start that you were feeling anxious about it and he respected your wishes and didn't talk about it.

as you landed in abu dhabi, ferrari staff were awaiting your arrival. max was hot in pursuit behind you, you figured it would've been nice to talk and say thank you for the flight but one of the ferrari staff present, your pr manager jessica had come up to you to interrupt your train of thought.

"so, y/n. we have some media coverage to do today, you have a few things to say and address," jessica had explained but you looked up at her confused, what did she mean by 'address'?

max was right behind you and gave you a teasing look that said, 'being bombarded with work already?'

you wanted to roll your eyes and laugh.

when did your relationship get that casual?

"can i at least thank max for the flight before you throw me into media duties?" you rubbed your temples as jessica handed you over an ipad filled with things you needed to answer and address.

jessica lets you go with her hands up held in the air, like she was a guilty criminal.

you turn and look at max who was now next to you, "thank you for the flight max, it was nice chatting with you," you told him before he gave you a small smile.

"no problem, call me if you need another flight. i need a new jet buddy anyway, last one told me to fuck off and stole my apartment," he waved you off before walking away, you really wanted to laugh now. he was so silly.

you finally looked over to the ipad before gasping.

address relationship rumors with max verstappen.

what the fuck was happening?

you were on the press conference line up for today, and of course pr responses rolled off your tongue as if you gave a fuck.

you just wanted to drive, why were press conferences so necessary for you to drive?

"last question for l/n before we end the press conference," one of the journalists spoke up as you nodded, mic up on your mouth, ready to give whatever bullshit they wanted to hear, "what is your current status with max verstappen?"

you wanted to vomit.

"sorry, what do you mean by that? can you clarify?"

"rumors are spreading around that you were spotted boarding his private jet, do you have a comment?"

"well, all i can say is that if i was a man, this news wouldn't be happening. i'm just friends with verstappen, nothing more, nothing less. please refrain from asking me ridiculous questions like these, i just want to drive," you had shot back, thinking that the question was ridiculous, all because you were on the same flight as him?

the press conference wrapped him and charles nudged you, a teasing look on his face.

"'i just wanna drive', ey?" charles laughed and you smiled at his teasing look, knowing that it was all in good fun, "nice job at shooting down the journalists. they have no boundaries sometimes."

"thank you, just because i'm a woman," you joked back and charles laughed, "let's make this testing worth it because i want to beat his ass now."

the abu dhabi grand prix weekend was in full swing, the paddock being filled with people here to watch the race or staff from respective teams trying to wrangle their drivers or trying to fetch important people crucial for the race.

fireproofs were on and a ferrari cap was sat atop of your head, waiting for the go ahead of the engineers for you to sit in your car and finally drive.

quali day today, and you were starving for a fight.

"you look so serious, amour," a soft voice spoke up as you tore your gaze away from your car, looking up at the owner of the voice. it was alexandra, charles' girlfriend.

"oh hey, alex," you laughed, stood up and greeted her, "how are you doing? i haven't been seeing you around the paddock," alex hugged you and smiled at you, she was always nice to you, much like her boyfriend.

"yeah, i've been busy with dealing with things at home, how are you? you seem quite eager for today's quali," alex had asked as you laughed, apologizing for your seriousness today.

"i was quite angry at the journalist the other day for bringing up me and verstappen's relationship status. i just want to take pole today. don't mess with an angry woman, right?"

alex would only laugh at your statement, knowing full well that you were right.

"AND WITH THAT L/N MAKES A STATEMENT TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE DOUBTED HER IN HER ROOKIE YEAR, SHE TAKES POLEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"let's fucking go anthony!" you screamed into the radio as he informs you that you start first place in tomorrow's race.

"you deserve this, you worked so hard to get up to this point. i'm very proud of you kid," anthony spoke to you through the radio before you pulled into the pits, your side of the garage was awaiting you with full smiles on their faces.

and this is why i race.

you exit the car and you're immediately swarmed with hugs and cheers.

"l/n takes pole, l/n takes pole, l/n takes pole!" were the cheers of your engineers as they lifted you on their shoulders and screamed, the screams in the crowd mixed with the adrenaline of the pole made you smile the widest.

"I TAKE POLE THIS WEEKEND, LET'S FUCKING GO!" you yell on the top of your lungs, your engineers were so happy. everyone was happy.

you were rewriting the history of motorsport by force, whether they liked it or not.

you were one of the first few women to enter f1 and the first woman to take pole ever.

this was your break. this was what you deserved– no, this was what you worked hard for. all those years of people doubting you, telling you that you had no place in the sport, that you didn't know how to drive, that you didn't deserve to drive all because you were a woman. to prove all of your doubters wrong. to tell the world that, hey. i'm here, i'm here to prove every single person wrong.

and as if a weight was lifted off your chest, tears freeflowed onto your cheeks.

i fucking took pole today and i'm gonna win again, and again, and again.

you exhale deeply, it was refreshing to not see any cars in front of you for the first time ever. starting front row, on pole no less was exhilarating.

you weren't going to let this go to waste. you were going to take this opportunity by the balls and turn into your first win.

you felt it in your bones.

"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS SEASON, IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!"

hi there, an anon had recently informed me that y/n being the first female driver in formula history is actually not accurate in real life, so i edited the parts for off the grid from this point backwards to fix any mistakes in my writing. so sorry for not doing my due diligence and actually researching the history of women being in this sport. looking forward to do better in the future.

- aria 🤍

[ichatake]

Hii! Can I request a Kakashixreaderxobito fic where the reader is helping Obito “re enter” society and they basically become best friends( but Kakashi starts to feel weird about it because he actually fell for the reader too (but refuses to accept love because duh) ya know, some angst to get through the week 🕺 I hope that makes sense hahaha thank youuu so much! 🫶

Requests are open! (Request rules)

Part. 1, Part. 2

A/N: This is one of my longest works I’ve ever made tee hee. I really hope you enjoy!! (Sorry it seems a little rushed :( )

Summary: Obito, after surviving the war was allowed back into the village. You made it your mission to make sure he gets completely rehabilitated. However, a certain someone gets jealous at the loss of attention.

Pairing: Obito x reader x kakashi

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

It was a process. Everything that came after the war was a process. Great ninjas were lost, and some were found. Heartbreaks and heartwarmths were felt by all the people who were affected by this dreadful event. However, they sought to move forward, and push the formidable thoughts away. Because there was no time for regret, but only determination to bring back the villages—the families that were caught in the hellfire.

You had thankfully survived the war right along with some of your comrades. You had lost some to the Ten Tailed beast, but you knew the only way to honor their lives was to remember them for the outstanding ninjas they were. They had fought their final battle alongside you, and it was time for them to rest as the brave heroes they were. Your heart had been shattered by everything that had occurred—the deaths and the revelations. The revelation of the man who seemed like the spitting image of a boy you once knew. A kind, sweet boy that strived to become the Hokage. A boy with dreams so big, he’d do anything to achieve them. Obito Uchiha.

It shattered you to see who he had become, and why he had become this new person. It hurt how he didn’t think of himself as Obito Uchiha, but as someone else. He lived as someone else. It broke you a little, because you couldn’t wrap your head around this. How could this man—the boy you once admired when you were both at the academy—become so heartless. You couldn’t understand it. However, as if the universe was trying to put the pieces back in place, Obito had a change of heart. You thank Naruto for this—you didn’t know how the boy did it, but he always managed to get into people’s hearts. And just like Sasuke, Obito was welcomed—with very hesitant open arms, back into the leaf village.

Of course, this wasn’t an easy process. There were still people who didn’t trust him, and wanted nothing to do with him. It was a hard decision to make, but everyone deserves a second chance. So, the decision was made. He would be welcomed back to the village on the conditions of having someone watch him at all times—or as they called it—being under supervision. This was, to Obito, reasonable. He had been one of the main causes of the war, so the least he could do was accept this with a good heart. The difficult part was searching for someone who would actually agree to watch him. They needed a strong ninja. One that could put Obito in his place if he ever did anything remotely threatening. They thought Kakashi would’ve been the perfect candidate, but he was now the Hokage.

However, they never expected you to volunteer. You were a great ninja. Strong, smart, truthful. You were fit for the job, sure, but they were hesitant to just let you supervise him. But, after some convincing, you were allowed to take Obito under your wing, and trust me, it was a hard process. This man had been socially secluded. He was hated by most of the villagers, and he could see it. Anytime he walked down the roads of Konoha, the people would glare and snarl at him. He was a monster to them, and he knew that. He was difficult to crack open. I mean, did you really expect him to be just like he was when he was a kid? Of course not, you knew better than that.

You would always notice how his eyes landed on the ground, and he walked with his head low. You also knew he was slightly embarrassed of his scars. They were permanent proof of everything that had happened since the beginning. How could you get him used to society again? Had you volunteered to do this with blind eyes?

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

“Are you hungry?” You asked as you searched around in the kitchen. You didn’t think the ‘have him under your supervision at all times’ rule was going to be this strict. I mean, he was living with you now. It’s been about two weeks since he’s been in your house, and he’s still tense. The unfamiliar atmosphere was just… not easy to get used to. At least for him. He wasn’t used to people, or kindness, or just… this.

“No,” he mumbled while he sat tensely on the dining chair. He looked like a black dot on a white sheet of paper. He didn’t quite fit in anywhere. You’ve tried to get him to speak more, but the most you get out of him a day is a few polite sentences. That’s it.

You frown, looking back at him as he looks out the window, “well you have to eat something. You can’t just go without eating for long hours,” you say as you lean on the counter, “how about we get some ramen, I bet you’d—,”

“I don’t want to go out,” he quickly cut you off, his head snapping towards you. Although the action might’ve seemed rude, his tone was soft, and… tired. He genuinely didn’t want to go out. Not that it surprises you. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to leave the house.

You sigh and rub your face, not out of frustration, but because you were thinking of a way to convince him, “I know that you don’t like going out—I understand, but you’ll make no progress being stuck in here with me,” you look at him to see a reaction, but his face still held that frown you hated to see. “I mean, sure, you can stay here if you want to, but you already know I’m not good at conversation. I’m pretty boring,” you chuckle, your attempts to lighten the mood were pretty bad.

You walk over to the dining table and sit across from him, crossing your legs and looking out the window, “you’ll have more fun outside than in here. Unless you want me to bore you with some of my life stories,”

His brow was raised with curiosity, his interest being peeked, “Maybe not,” he says and sits a little straight, his body turning to face you. You were surprised at this, just a little. He had never made an effort to keep the conversation going. He usually just stayed quiet or gave dry responses.

“Oh come on, you definitely don’t want to hear that,” you chuckle nervously, but his eye never left yours. “We don’t know that,”

“Okay then…,” you pause for a moment before continuing what you were going to say, “I’ll tell you about a few things, and if you're not bored out of your mind, we can stay here for the rest of the day. If you are, however, we’re taking a walk,” you say, although you knew that even if he was fed up with your blabbering, he’d still prefer that over going out. With a nod, he agreed to your offer and listened attentively.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Hours had passed since the offer. It turns out, you weren’t really bored at all. At least, in his eyes. You two hadn’t spoken since his ‘death’ so he had missed out on a lot of things. It was interesting to hear all of the stories you had. You were… cool. He thought. Yeah, you weren’t half as bad as he thought you were, no offense. He caught himself wanting to know more, nodding and interrupting you sometimes to just ask about certain things. To you, this was a massive win! He seemed to be getting used to you, and he was warming up a little.

“So you teach?” He asks, amusement laced his voice, “what? Is that really absurd?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms slightly while he gently waved his hand over his face, “No, no, I just remember you as a bad teacher,”

“A bad—excuse me?” You gasp with fake offense, which made him crack a smile. Your heart almost stopped because this was the first time he smiled since he got here. “I’m just saying, remember that time I asked you to teach me about a specific Jutsu?” He asks and you nod your head, “well, I have great memories of you shaking your head in disappointment and telling me I was doing it all wrong,” he looks at you and almost cracks a chuckle,

“Okay, I was young alright? I didn’t have the patience I have now,” you chuckle and shake your head, “so, for your information, I’m a very good teacher,”

He made an expression that screamed ‘suuuure’, which made you laugh, “oh, come on, don’t look at me like that,”

He shrugs, “I’ll believe that when I hear it from your students,” he says, not expecting anything to come from it, but a lightbulb had just been lit in your mind, “Alright, then let’s go talk to them,”

His eye suddenly widens as you say this, “what?” He watches you as you stand up and grab your keys. “Lets go talk to them so you see what a good teacher I am,” you say with your hands on your hip.

“I— I didn’t really mean it like that. It was just a joke—,”

“Joke or not, you deserve to meet them. Come on, they’ll love you,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

With a lot of convincing, you had gotten Obito to go outside. He was once again going into shut off mode. He didn’t speak and his eyes were glued to the ground. However, you wanted him to look forward to going out, so you tried your best to make him comfortable. “You see, they’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say to catch his attention. He slightly looks up from the ground, to look at you. You were a few feet ahead of him, guiding him though the village. “This one boy, he really reminds me of you,” you look back at him, only for him to look back at the ground. “How so?” He asks quietly.

“Well, he’s very stubborn. Always having a rivalry with his teammate and—,” you stop yourself and clear your throat, “he’s just like you in different ways,” she says and stops in front of Ichiraku. Two silhouettes sat inside. “Ah, here they are,” you say as you enter, looking back at Obito with a reassuring smile. He looks at you and hesitantly enters the shop, looking at the two boys who were sitting on the other side.

They look back at you and one of them grins, greeting you loudly while the other sits calm and politely says hello. The loud one had thick black hair, round dark eyes and a contagious smile, while the quiet one was quite the opposite. It made Obito… uncomfortable. No, not because he didn’t know them or anything, but the similarities between them and Obito and Kakashi were unsettling.

“I thought you weren’t showing up,” Toko, the loud one, whines, “I’m not surprised, she’s always late,” Kenji, the quiet one says. His nose was buried in his book while his friend rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” You chuckle and stand aside, “I’m here with a guest,”

Kenji lowers his book in curiosity, his pale eyes falling onto Obito with a monotone expression. It reminded him so much of Kakashi. “A guest? Where?” Toko asked, before he looked at the obvious answer right in front of him. “Oh—Oh!” He exclaims, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re—youre,”

“Obito,” you say, “Obito, this is Toko and Kenji,” you introduce them, earning an awkward ‘hey’ from Obito, and the same with Kenji. However, Toko immediately stood up in his seat, “I have so many questions,” he says with bright eyes, “I never thought I’d see you in person so soon,”

Obito was taken slightly aback, he wasn’t expecting such a reaction, and to be honest, the boy kind of reminded him of himself. “Sit down Toko,” Kenji scoffs, but it was obvious the boy had some questions of his own.

“Now, now boys, I don’t think Obito feels comfortable answering questions just yet. He’s still getting used to things and—,”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off before you continue. He sat down beside Toko, who seemed like he was shaking out of excitement. For the first time since Obito got here, he felt… visible. Like he wasn’t being judged by anyone. On the contrary, the boys looked at him not with disgust, but interest.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to,” you reassure, worried that he might be doing this because he felt forced to, “I’m sure,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The night went on smoothly. You were surprised at how much Obito talked—heck, he talked more with your students than with you! The conversation ranged from different types of Jutsus, to the sharingan, to the Uchihas. You had been worried all night that Toko might ask something too personal that would make Obito uncomfortable, but to your surprise, he seemed to be very at ease. Even Kenji had begun to ask some questions, to your surprise.

Of course, the night was coming to an end, and the boys needed to leave. They said their goodbyes and left, making you sit there with Obito. You were silent for a few minutes before you looked at him, “Are you okay?” You asked, concerned that one of the boys asked him something offensive.

“Yeah,” he says and looks at you, his eyes wandering your face and his lips moving as if to say something. You wait patiently for him to speak, tilting your head to the side, “what is it?”

His lips press against each other, turning them into a flat line before he finally speaks, “there’s two of them, aren’t there supposed to be three?” He asks, his eye staring deep into yours.

“Oh..,” you say and look down for a moment, “yeah, there’s supposed to be three,” you look at your nails, trying to find them interesting as the topic makes you a little saddened.

“Then what happened?” He asks curiously, not catching the glimpse of your smile fading slowly. Now it was your turn to bite your lips. You didn’t know how to bring this up because you never liked bringing it up. No one ever asked before either, because the whole village knew what happened.

“We uh… we lost her,” you say with grief, “on a mission,”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” he says and shook his head, “I shouldn’t have asked—,”

“You didn’t know. It’s okay,” you smile reassuringly and pay for the meals. “I’m okay. And so are the boys. They’re strong,” you stand up and look outside, “it’s getting dark, we should probably head back home,”

“…yeah,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

“So, you haven’t made any progress?” The silver haired man you know as Kakashi asks from in front of you. Considering he had become Hokage almost immediately after the war, you two barely got to see each other. Obito was currently getting tested at the infirmary for… who knows what. Kakashi didn’t give details about it.

“No, that’s not what I said,” you furrow your brows, “he’s having a hard time getting around. He doesn’t like going outside because people treat him nasty—,”

“And rightfully so. (Y/N), you might not get it, but this is the man who almost wiped the earth clean,” he says in a serious tone, “I know you keep thinking he’s like he used to be—the Obito from the past, but he’s not,”

“He’s trying—,”

“He’s a criminal,” you were slightly taken aback by his tone. You had never heard Kakashi speak about someone so roughly, and you’ve known him for years. You had become good friends since he became a teacher—so it really did surprise you. “You can’t be treating him like some old friend. You must take this seriously,”

“Everyone deserves a chance. He was your friend. You know him better than anyone here,” you say as you sat uncomfortably, “Even Sasuke isn’t being shunned to this extreme,”

“Because Sasuke didn’t start a war,” he refutes, “Then what are you suggesting I do?” You ask as you cross your arms, “I don’t get why you're being so.. so,” you look at him and sigh, “I’m sorry, I’ve just been really out of it. You know I hate mistreatment,” you rub your temples.

“It’s okay,” he sighs, “I just want to make sure you're not doing this because you feel forced to—,”

“I would never. I volunteer to supervise him, and I intend to make this an easy process for every party,” you say confidently, “after all, Obito and I are getting along just fine. He’s even met my students. I’ve seen good progress in him, even if it takes a little time,” you smile, “it’s like I’m slowly bringing him back,”

Kakashi stares at you for a few seconds—it was impossible to read his expression or what he was thinking, but his brows were furrowed together. You might've thought he had an expression of distaste if it weren’t for his mask, “I see… then that’s all for today. I wanted to check up on your progress, but I see that you are doing fine by yourself,”

You frown slightly at his words. You would’ve felt praised if it weren’t for his tone of voice. It seemed a little cold. You didn’t understand why—maybe it was because he was still bitter about everything that happened in the war, just like everyone else, but he out of all people should understand Obito, or at least, try to. “Right, then I’ll get going,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

It seemed the time that you used to spend with Kakashi was replaced by Obito. You two seemed to get closer to each other with each day, and you were glad. He woke up early in the morning now, telling you good morning, and asking what you would do today. If you had to go out, he’d go with you. If you stayed inside, he’d stay with you—Although you mostly thought it was because he literally had no choice but to do so.

You saw him smile more often, and the village seemed to be accepting him more and more. All of your hard work was starting to pay off. Your students seemed to love him, and so did Naruto. Obito loved to speak with your students as well. They reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. Your friendship grew so much, he even insisted on going to watch you train your students. You were glad—no, not glad. You were happy to hear this, immediately agreeing to his request.

Currently, you were sitting down on the grass while your two students sparred, Obito sitting right beside you. “You know, they remind me a lot of how things used to be,” he says while looking at the two boys, “you really weren’t kidding when you said Toko was my twin,” he chuckles, leaning back against a tree.

“I told you,” you smile at him gently before looking back at your students. “So, have you spoken to Kakashi yet?” you ask curiously, considering the last time you spoke to Kakashi about Obito he was a little… bitter about it. You understood why, but it didn’t mean you wanted that to happen.

“No, not since after… everything,” He says with a straight face, "I don't think he’d want to talk to me ever. Not that I care much anyways, I also carry resentment,” he says, not meeting your eyes as he’s focused on the two figures in front of him. They fought hand to hand, and their friendly rivalness was giving him nostalgia. The sound of their weapons clanking made him remember just how much he and Kakashi would always fight. Rin would always watch. His face drops at the memories.

“I see,” you frown, “I just wanted to know because you two deserve to flip the page and start anew,” you look at him, “I certainly forgive you. And I don’t blame you—,”

“(Y/N), I’m not a good person,” he cuts you off with furrowed brows, “And I don’t expect anyone to forgive me. Especially not kakashi. After everything that’s happened, the best thing we can do is forget we even exist,”

“I don’t think that way,” you say sternly, “I believe everyone deserves a chance, and that doesn’t exclude you. You had your reasons—heck, you were a kid when you were manipulated—”

“Manipulated?” his head snaps towards you, “it was my decision,”

“You were a kid,” you refute, but he shakes his head, “It doesn't matter,”

“It does! You were a kid, you were vulnerable—”

“And what do you know?” he asks, a little agitated. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, but his chest was slightly burning up. “You weren't there when it happened. You didn’t know Kakashi, Rin or me that well. So how could you possibly know what I feel? How could you understand?”

“Because I have a heart. You were a vulnerable kid who was grieving the death of someone you loved. You were filled with rage, and Madara took advantage of that,” you spoke calmly, because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel even worse than he already was, “You didn’t speak to the people you held closest to your heart. You were ripped away from the village in hopes of false promises,” everything you said, you knew because of him. He had talked about this with you shortly after becoming more comfortable with you. You did know, you weren’t exactly there, but you did understand him.

“Please don’t live your life regretting what you did, or hanging onto hatred,” you frown and put a hand on his shoulder, “This is a new beginning for you. One that you were given even after thinking you didn’t deserve it,” you smile, “take advantage of that and work on yourself. If you’re having a hard time doing so, then I’ll help you. I will always be here for you,”

Your words left him speechless. Honestly, he didn’t know what to say. He was at a loss for words. You made him feel… different. A good difference. It was like you were the thing he most longed for. You were pure kindness… It almost reminded him of Rin. No, it did remind him of Rin. His eye never left yours as he tried to think of something to say. Your hand on his shoulder felt so tender and gentle, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. “I care for you Obito,”

He stares at you for what felt like ages, but finally, he worked up the courage to say something, “thank you,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

“I want a rematch!,” Toko whines, looking at the other teenager who stood crossed arms, “I already won, I don’t think you want me to beat you again,” he says and rolls his eyes.

“Okay boys, that’s all for today. Go home and rest,” you say and chuckle, seeing how Kenji helps Toko up from the ground. The boys packed their things before saying goodbye to both you and Obito. After they left, it was silent. Obito was still deep in thought after your conversation.

“Well, I need you to help me get some things. We’re kind of out of groceries and I need to restock,” you say before turning to him, “Unless you want to go home. That’s okay, I’ll do the grocer—”

“No, I’ll come with,” you were once again surprised by this, but immediately smile, “Okay then,”

It’s safe to assume that you and Obito were starting to become closer than what anyone imagined. Some might say it's too close. He seemed to smile more around you, and since some time had passed, he was now allowed to roam freely without having to be under your supervision. However, he refused to leave your side, and you didn’t mind at all. You were glad, because the bubbling feeling in your stomach everytime he laughed or made you laugh was amazing.

However, you were conflicted. For the longest time, you had always liked a certain silver haired Jonin. Kakashi was always your crush—kind of. You weren’t obsessed with him, but there was an obvious interest. You spent a lot of time together, and were set out on a lot of missions together as well. It’s safe to say that you were always together at all times. You weren’t sure if he had actually reciprocated your feelings, because he never showed any sign of interest in you. I guess that’s kind of why you started losing feelings for him as soon as he became Hokage. He was always busy, and you were too. He never seemed to be interested in you the way you were of him, so it didn’t matter.

Obito seemed to be replacing Kakashi in every sense of the matter. He was now the person you’d spend your time with 24/7. You laughed and joked with him, ate with him, lived in the same house as him. Everything you did, he was right by your side. And the best thing about all of this was that Obito seemed to be interested in you too. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the way compliments would slip out of his mouth from time to time would make your stomach flip. The way he now sits right beside you instead of across you everytime you eat just to be closer to you made you feel amazing. He was trying to be as subtle as possible, but he failed miserably. To him, you had become someone he truly cared for. You were so kind to him, even after everything. You trusted him, because you knew who he was. You understood him in every sense of his being, and he was glad. He was just so glad he had you. Because it was as if the universe reunited you two. It was meant to happen.

It seemed the tables had been severely flipped, much to someone’s distaste. Kakashi, although always busy, heard the talk of the town. He heard the rumors, he heard the stories. He heard about how you and Obito were supposedly going out. Or how you were supposedly spotted at a restaurant together. All of this, Kakahsi could handle, because he knew they were just rumors of the town. Of course the people would start to assume things like that. Obito had to be with you at all times, so of course it would stir up a few rumors here and there. But, it made him wonder if it was actually true.

What exactly were you to Kakashi? Why did he find himself caring so much about these stupid rumors going around? He never admitted this before, but you were special to him. Ever since you were kids, he had an interest in you. At the academy and even after joining the Anbu. You always had a special place in Kakashi’s heart. To him, you were priceless. You cared too much about silly things, and too little of yourself. He hated that about you, but he also loved it. Because it left room for him to love you. He always found himself thinking about you, both when he was a kid, and still to this day. He cursed himself for never telling you how he truly felt, but to him, his romantic feelings would subside with time. They didn’t, of course, he was just lying to himself.

Why exactly did he refuse to believe his feelings towards you? Well, he’s always been alone, and when he’s not, he ends up losing those closest to him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t afford to love you when he knew that you might leave him. He couldn’t afford another heartbreak, so he treated you as a friend. He was sure you liked him, he wasn’t stupid, and he was glad. He bathed in your sweetness, and he loved it. He loved knowing that you felt the same. However, his biggest mistake was never saying anything. Because now, he was worried that you didn’t want him anymore. Now that you didn’t want him, he wanted you the most. You barely come visit him at his office anymore, and when you do, it's strictly professional. He had never expected things to go this way. Sure, he was now the Hokage, but out of all the people to treat him with such ‘respect’, he didn’t expect it from you. He thought you’d stay the same as you were. Heck, you didn’t even call him by his name anymore. It was either Hatake or Sir, and neither of them left a good taste in his mouth.

That’s why he made sure that tonight, he’d make up for all the time he wasted just pushing you away.

“You called me here for something, Sir?” you ask as you enter his office,

“You know you don’t have to use formalities when we’re alone, right?” he asks with a chuckle, earning and chuckle from you, “I mean, you’re the Hokage, it’s disrespectful to talk to you as if you’re a normal person,”

He shakes his head before sitting down, “How have you been?” he asks, waiting for you to sit down, which you did.

“Um… Well, i’ve been good,” you say hesitantly, “It’s been peaceful,”

“Is that so? I would’ve assumed you’d be stressed thanks to Obito,” he says and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. You quickly look at him and smile, shaking your head with a chuckle. You instantly melt into the conversation, as if you two had never stopped hanging out, “Oh no, he’s an angel,” you cover your mouth with a giggle, “He’s already getting used to everything. You should’ve seen him helping the seniors. They love him,”

The more you spoke about Obito, the more his expression seemed to change, “i see,” he clears his throat, “I’m glad you’re getting along,” he says a little bitterly, but you didn’t quite catch that.

“I was meaning to ask,” you look at him with a smile, “Have you gotten to speak to him? I think it would be a good idea to talk things out. He told me he hasn’t spoken to you since he got here, so…,” you look at your hands, “maybe it wouldn’t be a bother if you two got to speak. I know things are tense right now, so I wanted to—,”

“I don’t think he’d want to agree with that. We’ve parted ways. It’s better to leave things as they are right now. Let things smooth as they go,” he says, earning a small ‘oh’ from you. He noticed how your smile slightly dropped.

“But, I do have tonight free. I was meaning to ask you— well, if you wanted to go out and eat. You know, so we can catch up,” he was hopeful. There was a big chance you’d say no, but to his surprise, your eyes lit up and your smile came back to your pretty face. “Of course, around what time were you planning? Not that I’ll be busy anytime today, I’m free all day,” you smile excitedly.

“How does six sound?”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

“You’re going out?” Obito asks as he lays on your bed. He had a habit of laying on it whenever he could. He would always say it was much more comfortable than his.

“yeah, I thought I told you?” you say as you look through your closet, “No, not really. Where are you going?” he asks curiously, sitting up to look at what clothes you were pulling out.

“I’m going out to meet the Hokage,” you say with a smile, slightly excited that you would get to catch up with him again. This made Obito raise a brow, “So, you’re going out to meet Kakashi,” he states with a ‘matter of fact’ tone “Yes,” you affirm and turn to him. He lays back down, but still looks at you, “Why? Is it like, some weird date or something?”

“No! We’re just going to catch up since we barely spent any time together since he became Hokage,” you say and hold up a dress, “Do you think this is nice?” you smile and show off your dress. A hand comes and pushes the dress aside gently, “It sounds like a date to me,” he looks at your face, kneeling on the bed now.

“Obito, it’s not a date,” you put the dress down, “Even if it was, what's the big deal?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying,” he stands up and walks towards the closet, pulling out another dress, This one was a navy colored one, nothing fancy, but it was still pretty “This one would look way better,” he grins “It’s my favorite color too,”

You smile and take the dress, “Alright,”

After getting dressed and ready, you say goodbye to Obito, who is still on your bed. You heard him ask for some sweets when you got back—but you didn’t really hear him well.

You were both excited and nervous. You didn’t know what to expect. I mean, you knew Kakashi wanted to catch up, sure, but you didn’t know what to expect from yourself. One day you thought you were completely over Kakashi, and now you’re questioning your feelings again. To some extent, your feelings for Kakashi were still very much strong and alive. You were dumb for thinking that you could just forget about him. However, you also felt a little something for Obito. Your mind was reeling with many thoughts. You honestly didn’t know what to do anymore. It was like Kakashi controlled what you felt, and when you could feel it without even trying. You didn’t blame him of course, but it frustrated you a lot.

After a while of walking, you finally saw Kakashi waiting for you at the bridge. You smile and walk towards him, his head turning towards you once he hears your shoes. You assume he smiled at you at the way his eyes turn into crescent moons, “hey,” he greets, turning to face you. “You look wonderful,”

“Thank you,” you reply, your smile never leaving your face as your cheeks are dusted pink. You give him a compliment in return as well, “So, where are we going to eat?” You ask, standing besides him as he begins to lead the way, “I reserved a spot at the new restaurant that just opened recently. I’ve heard real good things about it, and I wanted to bring someone special with me,”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you didn’t want to think much of it, “I see,” your cheeks were dusted pink, your lips forming a small smile as you looked down. He noticed this, and smiled to himself. After all this time, he still had that effect on you.

The restaurant was pretty different from all the others in Konoha. It was a little more modern than any other restaurant, and it just screamed expensive. “Wow, this place looks amazing,” you say as you look around, already sitting across from Kakashi, “I’m not sure I can afford to come here more than two times. It looks really expensive,” you laugh, earning a chuckle from him, “Maybe you won’t have to pay. If you come with me, I’ll definitely make sure to pay for everything. Just like tonight,” he tilts his head with a smile, his eyes closed.

“Oh no, don’t bother, I brought money—,”

“I said I’ll pay (Y/N), don’t worry about it,” he put a hand over yours when you went to reach for your pouch. You look at his hand and then at him, “Are you sure?” He nods and leans back, pulling his hand away from yours, “of course, I was the one who invited you. I’m not letting you pay,” he chuckles. He was so handsome.

The afternoon was going really well. Both were having a nice conversation during your meal—although, you had no idea how he was eating since not once did you see him pull down his mask—and were just enjoying yourselves. You felt euphoric. It was nice being with him again. You had forgotten exactly why you had fallen for him all those years ago, and today you were being reminded. He was so nice, so funny, so perfect to you. He read you like a book and listened to everything you had to say. It was just nice.

“You know, I missed this,” you say, taking the last bite of your food and smiling, “I forgot when was the last time that we actually spoke like this. For hours,” you rest your chin on your palm, “I thought we wouldn’t get to do this anymore”

“I thought so too,” he says and looks into your eyes. He fell quiet as he stared at you. This had to be the moment. He needed to tell you now, because he wouldn’t get another chance if he didn’t.

“(Y/N), I have something really important I want to say,” he says, suddenly a little more serious than before, “I want you to be honest with me,”

You furrow your brows, sitting upright and nodding, “yeah, of course. What is it?”

“How do you really feel about me?” You were taken aback by his question, “I thought you wanted to say something important, not ask me something,” you chuckle a little nervously, trying to avoid answering, but he shook his head, “I’ll tell you when you answer me,”

“Well, I think…,” you stop for a moment, trying to form the words you so badly wanted to utter. ‘I’ve been in love with you for the past fifteen years,’ is all you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. Not when you were torn between telling him and forgetting Obito, or just never telling him at all. “You’re a wonderful person,” you say, and look at him. However, it seemed like that wasn’t the answer he wanted. “And I appreciate you a lot, for always being there for me for as long as I remember,”

The table was now quiet. He seemed to be thinking of what to say, and you were nervously waiting for his answer.

“Do you like me? Romantically,” he asks again, now going straight to the point, making your heart beat faster, “what?” You ask, gulping down the lump in your throat.

“Because I like you. I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember,” he declares, making your heart almost stop. You didn’t expect this. You never would’ve expected this. He had never treated you romantically in his life, so what was the occasion?

“I… Kakashi, I don’t understand,” you furrow your brows, “If that is really true, how come you never told me before—or at least dropped hints,”

“I didn’t want to give you false hopes. I wasn’t sure before, mostly because I was afraid to get hurt,” he admits, “but now I’m sure,”

“But why now? Why now all of a sudden?” You ask, the timing seemed weird. How come now, that you weren’t speaking as much as before, he wanted to confess. Why now?

“I.. don’t know,” he blinks, “but what matters is that I told you,”

“I.. Are you being genuine?” You frown, “because the timing seems a little strange. I don’t understand why you suddenly seem interested in me. I mean, we haven’t hung out, we haven’t spoken—you never showed interest in me before this moment. Why is it that now you suddenly want to say this to me,” you didn’t understand why you weren’t happy. I mean, you liked him, of course, but it felt strange.

The puzzle pieces didn’t fit, and the only reason as to why he was seemingly starting to take an interest now, was because you were spending more time with Obito. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but come on, it was plausible. It made sense if you thought about it. They technically hated each other, and it was no secret they were rivals and will always be rivals. It looked as if now that Obito was winning your attention, Kakashi wanted it back.

“Of course I’m being genuine. I’ve always liked you,” he frowns, “Do you not like me?”

“It’s… it’s not that. I just, I don’t think I want anything right now. The timing seems off and I— I just don’t know if I’m sure of what I’m feeling,”

The air seemed to get tense the more you spoke. You seemed conflicted, and Kakashi knew why. He knew why you were conflicted. “This is about Obito, isn’t it?” He suddenly asks, making your head snap towards him. “I…,” you didn’t know how to answer, because to some extent, yes, it was about Obito,

“I knew it,” he leans back, “you like him,”

“It’s not like that,”

“Then why is it that you suddenly changed your mind? I mean, I know you like me. Or at least liked. So why else would you not accept me?”

Now that makes you uncomfortable. He was speaking the truth, but the way he said it sounded wrong.

“Kakashi, things change,” you begin to explain, but you never expected what he said next.

“(Y/N), you can’t just fall for him. I’m not sure if he likes you, but if he does, it’s not genuine. It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before. Of course he’d fall for the first person to show him an ounce of respect,”

Your jaw dropped at his words. You couldn’t believe what you just heard. You had to process everything twice just to make sure you weren’t making things up. Kakashi had to admit he was talking out of frustration—since he wasn’t getting you easily. But this reached a whole different level.

“Unbelievable,” you finally say, reaching for your pouch and pulling out money. You slam it onto the table and stand up.

“(Y/N), wait—,”

“I want you to know that Obito deserves to be loved too, you know. Don’t you ever tell me I’m taking advantage of someone just because I love them,” you scoff and take your things, starting to storm your way out of there. Before you could leave, Kakashi caught your wrist, “I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to convince, but you pull your arm away, “I know what you meant,” you snarl and finally exit, leaving a guilty Kakashi behind.

The walk home was hot. You felt hot all around. You were angry. Angry and hurt. His words kept swirling in your head.

‘It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before,’

Who did he think he was? How could he even say that? It hurts you. It hurt you because you liked him so much, but this? This made you think about what you felt. It made you question things.

Maybe you were overreacting. You didn’t know. Right now, you didn’t want to know. You got home and quickly stormed towards your bedroom after locking the door. You looked disheveled—and once you reached your bedroom, Obito quickly sat up from your bed, “you’re here early,” he says, but quickly stopped when he saw your red face. Concern washes over him as he stands up, “hey, what’s wrong?”

You stay silent, taking off your shoes while shaking slightly, “(Y/N), what’s going on?” he asks again, coming closer to you and placing his gentle hands on your shoulders, “Hey, look at me,”

You finally look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. You were so mad, so frustrated, that you couldn’t hold back your tears, “what’s wrong?” His voice was so gentle, so soothing. It was exactly what you needed right now. You had possibly ruined your relationship with Kakashi—no, you didn’t ruin it. He did.

“I just,” you choked as your tears finally fell. You hated crying. You hated that you cried when you just wanted to yell.

Instead of pushing you to speak, Obito pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped around your waist as his hand held your head and pushed it towards his chest. It was so warm. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers, his fingers gently tangling themselves into your hair. Your arms found themselves wrapping around him as well, holding onto him for what seemed like hours. Yet he never moved. He never uttered a word to hurt you. On the contrary, he let you know he was there for you. This is what you needed…

“Thank you, Obito,”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Days passed by since what happened at the restaurant, and today was the first time since the incident that you were called to the Hokage’s office. You felt dread wash over you when you received the message, you didn’t want to go, not after what happened. Oh, had I mentioned how Obito and you now seemed to be inseparable? That interaction had built a strong bond between the two of you. No words were spoken that night, but they didn’t have to be. Both of you created a connection no other person could achieve.

With every step you took, your body felt heavier. Dread consumed you and you couldn’t seem to open the door to his office. You didn’t know what to expect… however, you managed to build the courage to enter his office, straightening yourself and walking towards his desk, “you called for me, sir?”

His head tilts upwards to look at you, “Yes,” he answers dryly and pulls a scroll from his desk, “a mission for you, out in Kirigakure,” he waits for you to take the scroll, watching you intently. You felt as if his eyes were burning holes onto your skin. You reached for the scroll and took it.

“Take both your students with you,” he adds, and looks down at some papers, “that’s all,”

You weren’t expecting this attitude, but then again, what were you expecting? You felt weird. “Right, thank you,” you say, bowing respectfully before turning towards the exit. As you were about to open the door, he called for you. You turn your head towards him, and wait for him to speak.

“Just know that I’m sorry,” he says, which you simply nodded and left. Once you were out of sight, your heart dropped to your stomach. ‘You should’ve said something’ you thought, mentally facepalming. ‘He was trying to apologize and you just left? You’re so stupid’ you insult yourself as you walk out of the building. You wondered what this mission was about, but you didn’t check until you were back home.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The mission was simple. There were some ninja terrorizing the village and they needed some help catching them. It wasn’t an S rank mission, but it was still pretty high up there. You assumed the ninja were pretty darn strong if you had to be sent out.

“A mission in the mist village?” Asked Obito as he peeked over your shoulder to see what the scroll said. “Apparently. It’ll take a few days I guess,” you sigh and place the scroll on the desk of your room, going to grab a bag to pack some things. Obito read the scroll with furrowed brows, “why couldn’t he send Naruto and his gang? I mean, they could handle it themselves,” he asks and watches you pack, “because they’re busy with their own missions,” you say, throwing some clothes and tools into your bag, “I have to leave in a few hours, so please keep the place tidy,” you say, turning towards him.

“Of course,” he shrugs and sits down on the bed, “and make sure to eat well—and don’t drool on my pillows this time,” you laugh as he blushed slightly, “that was one time,” he argued

“I know, I’m just messing with you,”

Once it was time to leave, you took your bag and wore your headband. Obito followed behind you as you walked towards the door. “Hey,” he called before you opened the door. You turn to him and raise a brow, “what is it?”

“Please be careful,” he says, obviously worried, “I mean, I know you’ll kick ass, but please be careful,” he smiles at you worriedly, but you grinned reassuringly, “don’t worry Obito, I’ll come back in one piece,” you chuckle and open your arms. He immediately leaned in to give you a strong hug, and for a moment it seemed like he didn’t want to let go. However, you needed to leave and he let go. He smiled gently and pinched your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you soon then,” he says and you nod, leaving him behind. You wondered what he’d do while you were gone, but decided it was better to keep your mind focused on your mission.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Now while you were gone, a surprise arrived at your doorstep. When Obito answered the door, it was two of Kakashi’s secretaries. “Obito Uchiha, you have been summoned to the Hokage’s office on urgent request,”

Him? What for? Although Obito wanted to ask these exact questions, he only nodded and followed them to the building. He hadn’t been called there for about two months, what could he possibly be called over there for.

Once they arrived, he was left alone in front of the office doors. Everything seemed different. The village itself had changed too much since the last time he was there—well, when he was a kid. He shook the thoughts away and entered the office. Finally, after two long months, Kakashi and Obito were back face to face.

“You called me,” Obito states, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waits for Kakashi to speak. The silver haired man looks up from his paperwork, his dark eyes burning into Obito’s.

“Yes, we need to talk,”

[cherryredstars]

Hello cherry

This is the first time I have asked you something, I would like it to be something like Miguel being a teacher with a female student reader. With NSFW, I'm ovulating please

I know you will know how to do it very well

Have a nice day nena

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut with Slight Plot, Student/Teacher Relationship, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Praise, Spanking, Squirting

Summary: You needed extra help, right?

Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)

Both of you knew you didn’t need the extra help. 

Miguel had been surprised when he had seen your name in the afterschool tutoring sign up sheet. He didn’t need to open up his gradebook to know you were one of the striving students in his class, getting high Bs to As on his assignments and exams. At first, he thought it was a mistake. That was quickly disproved the more he paid attention to you in class. 

You always sat front and center, pushing your body up against the table so your breasts were on display. Your eyes tracked his every movement, either giving him innocent doe eyes or half-lidded beauties. Your hands are always playing with something, let it be your hair, a pencil, or your lip. God those lips. He was sure you had an oral fixation. How else would you explain the way you bit the end of your pens, fingers, your own lips whenever he talks? You’re naive if you think he misses the fleeting glances you make up and down his figure as he paces around the room. Stupid if you think he misses the extra seconds you spend on his crotch. 

He definitely doesn’t miss the way you strut into his office, clothes skin tight and bordering on inappropriate. His eyes instantly zero in every time you try to tug your clothes down, revealing more of your cleavage or just shy of showing the band of your panties before the fabric rises up again. You let out small huffs, a pout on your glossy lips as if you didn’t do this to yourself. As if you didn’t plan this because you knew you were gonna have him all to yourself for an hour or two. Naughty, naughty girl.

But also oh-so-sweet, especially when your pretty cunt clamps so tightly onto his fingers. As much as he likes you sitting in the front of the class, he might just consider permanently moving your seat to his lap. You’re just so pretty, your back pressed against his front with your legs spread over his own. He almost misses your stuttering words over the sound of your squelching hole as you try to answer the questions he whispers into your ears. You never knew Miguel to be so impatient until now. Not until he gives harsh slaps to your throbbing clit when you get the answer wrong or take too long to respond. Every slap makes your hips jolt in pleasure and if he didn’t know any better, Miguel would have thought you were answering wrong on purpose. 

“Come on, chica. It’s an easy one, you got it right on the past assignment. Don’t be an airhead, now.” 

The words are said softly into your ear, but the condescending smile on his face makes you whimper in embarrassment. A deep flush covers your face and you try to recall the answer. But it’s just too hard. The words get more and more jumbled in your mind the more Miguel keeps pumping his thick fingers into you. His blunt nails scrape your gummy walls perfectly and you can’t escape the urge to throw your head back in pleasure. A pleased moan leaves your plump lips, slightly grinding against his hand. 

The sound almost immediately turns into a sharp gasp when Miguel’s hand comes in contact with your cheek. Your head whips to the side from the force, only to have it yanked forward and pointed towards the review material on his desk. The hand that he used to slap you squishes your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker up and muffle your noises. Miguel leans forward and presses up against your back, his breath tickles your ear and his fingers slow the slightest bit. 

“Pay attention. How am I supposed to help you if you don't cooperate, hm?” Miguel snarls, nipping at your earlobe. 

You try to respond, trying to apologize, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. Miguel simply chuckles, mumbling ‘stupid slut’ as his hand slides down to your face to your neck. Your moan is more audible this time, and Miguel hisses as you clench around his fingers the same time he applies the tiniest bit of pressure to your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pumps his fingers faster, pressing right below the perfect spot. It’s enough to do you in, hips jerking up as clear liquid gushes out of you. 

Miguel completely ignores it, pretending he doesn’t feel the wetness of his button-up sleeve or the splattering on his slacks. His fingers still work you through your orgasm, your protests falling onto deaf ears. “Go on, read the paragraph. What does it say, chica?”

You can’t even attempt to read it, the words an unfocused mess as your mind tries to come down from your orgasm. All you can do is whine, trying to squirm away from his hold and mumbling out ‘don’t know’ repeatedly. You barely register Miguel’s tsk of disappointment before his fingers disappear from inside you. His hand creeps into your hair, and a pleased sigh escapes you as your body gets the chance to relax. His hand is gentle, massaging your scalp until his hold suddenly tightens.

 “Maybe you need a closer look then, yeah?”

A yelp leaves you as he sharply tugs at your hair, forcing the side of your face to press into the papers and workbooks on his desk. Some of the pages crinkle as he forces you to balance on your legs. You faintly hear the rolling of his chair as it hits the wall, Miguel standing behind you and working at his belt. A shiver runs down your body when you feel his head slide against your folds, hands bracing on the edge of the desk to stop yourself from falling to the floor. 

“How about now? Can you read it?”

You don’t get the time to respond, a loud moan parting from your lips as he pushes into you. It burns slightly from his size, even with all the time he spent loosening your cunt. Your eyes and hands squeeze shut, trying to work through the intrusion. You can feel every inch he slides in, swearing you can feel the throb of a thick vein against your walls. Miguel hisses at your tightness, his hand wrapping around to play with your clit in an effort to relax you. It takes a moment, but your walls give away the slightest bit. It’s just enough for him to bottom out, both of your groaning as his head rubs against that spongy spot inside you. He slowly slides out before snapping his hips forward again, shifting you higher up onto the desk. 

More whines and whimpers leave you as you try to push back into him. But after a few more thrusts, he pulls out so his tip is the only thing in you. His grip on your hips is tight, preventing you from moving. A frustrated noise leaves you, but it's quieted by the slap he lands onto your ass. He massages the red spot, humming to himself. “Let’s make a deal, yeah? If you can answer this last question correctly, I’ll reward you.”

Your eyes sluggishly follow his finger as it comes into view. He grabs one of the worksheets, repositioning you on the desk so you rest on your elbows. He slides the paper in front of you, tapping at the number in front of the problem he wants you to answer. You want to cry, seeing the length of the worded problem. You can barely make out the numbers written down, your luck of even remembering the equation you need to solve it is a big fat zero. But, you really, really want to cum. So, you hesitantly nod in response. 

“Good girl.” Miguel praises, slowly pushing back into you again and continuing his thrusts.

You try to take deep breaths, trying to calm down your mind as you reach for the discarded pencil on his desk. You have to blink a few times, finding it difficult to get the words in focus between your distracted mind and the jolting of your body with each of Miguel’s thrust. Your hand tightens on the pencil so much you think you might break it. Your eyes scan the first few sentences three times, trying to comprehend what it's saying as you read on. Your handwriting is shaky as you try to solve the problem, the pencil sharply jerking upwards with some thrusts. When you try to steady yourself, the tip of the pencil breaks and you cry out. 

Your head falls to the desk, body trembling with your upcoming orgasm, “I-I can’t. Mr. O’Hara I can’t.” 

Your whines are absolutely pathetic, even to your own ears. Miguel leans over your shoulder, observing your shaky work before cooing in your ear. “Yes you can. You’re so close, just focus a bit harder, baby.”

You let a frustrated whine before picking your head up again. You look over your work again, trying to remember where you left off. With a few more stuttery strokes, you draw a wonky circle around your answer before letting the pencil roll away from you. You slide the paper to the slide so Miguel can check your answer, collapsing in the spot it used to be. Your head is turned to the side again, watching Miguel's finger trace over the work. A triumphed whimper leaves you when he hums in satisfaction. 

“There you go, that’s my smart girl. Knew you could do it.” 

A happy sigh leaves you at his praise, burying your head into your arms to hide the dorky smile that overcomes your face. The smile doesn’t last long when Miguel speeds up his thrusts, going harder and faster than he did before. Your head snaps up, moan after moan leaving you as your body begins to shake. When his finger flicks at your clit, your body falls lax as you finish. Miguel isn’t far behind, emptying himself into you. Both of you take a minute to calm down before he slides out with a hiss. 

You take another minute to yourself before slowly standing up. Your legs are still wobbly, but they regain balance after a few minutes. You startle slightly when Miguel’s hand comes into your peripheral, your panties dangling from his fingers. You blush, letting out a quiet thank you before you slide them back on. You help Miguel clean off his desk quietly, glancing at his figure from time to time. When you’re done, you clear your throat to say the last of your thanks before leaving. Before you can go, Miguel calls out to you. 

You turn hesitantly, watching as he slides one of his coats from the coat rack and motioning you forward. You walk hesitantly towards him, letting him move your limbs as he slides the coat over your small form.  “Keep this on until you get back to your dorm. Don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, keeping his eyes focused on buttoning up the coat. A roaring blush spreads across your face and you nod, whispering a small agreement as you let the warmth of it snuggle against your skin. When his eyes meet yours, they’re soft and warm. His hand grabs a hold of your cheeks again, puckering them up perfectly for the kiss he lays on them. When he pulls away, your mind is still buzzing with delight as he looks at the clock over the door. 

“Office hours are over. Get home safe, yeah? Don’t be late to class tomorrow.” 

He ushers you out of his office shortly after, another fleeting kiss on your lips as the door shuts behind you. You stand there in a daze before a wide smile spreads on your face. You tug Miguel’s coat tighter around you and make your way back to your dorm. 

Hopefully, your grade in performance was an A+.

THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I SCREAMED WRITING THIS!!

[maldaptivedreamer]

From Afar P. 1

You didn't know his name and you didn't care to. You were perfectly content to watch him from afar...Or were you?

contents: Errors and mistakes, too lazy to edit, probably not entirely accurate to alien universe, Bjorn is also not a major character in this part, kinda long

wc: 1.7k

a/n: First thing to address is the fact that I absolutely hated Bjorn. He pissed me off and SPOILER: I was entirely satisfied when he died. Now because he’s a fictional person, I CAN change him, therefore I will. Second thing is, I have never written creatively before, so if my writing is clunky I apologize.

Masterist Next Part

Sweat dripped from your brow as you drilled into the rock. Your goggles fogged with humidity and your mask only made it harder to breath. Your arms trembled with effort as the alarm signaled the end of your shift. Immediately, your arms sagged. Despite the pain, you continued to push forward towards the tunnel's exit, dragging the heavy drill behind you.

As you stepped out into the open air, you placed your drill on the ground and quickly removed the bulky gloves from your hands. They were shoved under your arm as you pulled your mask and goggles down. You briefly paused. Looking up to catch your breath, you found little reprieve. Jackson's atmosphere is dense and contaminated with humidity and pollution. Even outside of the tunnel, the air is only a fraction better than the air inside.

Taking shaking steps towards the desk to clock out, you silently lay the drill in a compartment, where it is promptly checked in. "Another twelve-hour shift, no drill damage," the attendant muttered, barely glancing up from his screen. You nodded wearily, not bothering to speak. Your throat too raw from the dust and fumes. The worker inside nodded to you and handed you your bag. You ignored them, snatching your bag from the counter.

As you shuffled towards the locker room, your legs felt like lead. The ache in your muscles had become a constant companion, a dull throb that never truly faded. You passed by other miners, their faces etched with the same exhaustion you felt deep in your bones. The locker room was a cacophony of slamming metal doors and muted conversations. You peeled off your sweat-soaked jumpsuit, wincing as the fabric clung to your skin. You change into a loose t-shirt and jeans. Boots shoved back onto your throbbing feet.

You uncaringly threw your goggles and mask into your locker, jumpsuit shoved into your bag. Slamming the door closed, you swing the bag around your shoulder. The sweat built up on your shirt quickly, soaking the bag as it pressed into you back and dug into your stiff shoulders. Your sweaty hands are wiped along your stained jeans.

You walked home as fast as your body allowed, but the trip home is long. As you weave through the crowd, paying no attention to those around you, you allow yourself to think. Deftly maneuvering between each person, you become lost in your own world.

The cycle never ends. Go home, go to work, go back home, and then back to work. Endless monotony. You exert all your energy for what? For nothing. Nothing to strive towards. Just a replaceable cog in their machine, destined to spend your whole life on this planet until you die. They have no regard for you, you’re just another expendable worker. As this bitter and depressing thought crossed your mind, you briefly faltered in your steps. All you do is work and work, you deserve to relax. To just sit and be.

You don't bother going back home to wash off the stink of a long work day. You know that if you go back home, it'll likely end with you not leaving. Instead, you make your way to the northern quarry. It had been completely drained and now acts as a spot for younger people to drink and hang out at.

The once bustling quarry now stands as a barren wasteland, its towering walls and deep pits looking more intimidating due to the dark sky. Graffiti covers its jagged surfaces, a mix of colorful art and desperate messages scrawled in quick strokes. The air around the quarry is thick with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. The faint aroma of weed lingers in the air, masked by the stronger scent of chemicals and decay. Despite the unpleasant smells, the quarry is usually alive with chatter and laughter.

You’d never been there before, only passing by, socializing and relaxing not having been high on your priority list. However, with this goal in mind, you determinedly walked towards your destination.

You tilted your head while chewing your lip raw, watching as he laughed. He leans in closer to his friends, flashing a handsome smile. Releasing your lip, you blow air from your nose and take a sip of the beer in your hands, grimacing at the taste.

Silently watching the people around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the pretty boy across the quarry. You’d noticed him before. Just in passing, but his pretty face hadn’t left your mind since. He stood out in the dim light of the quarry, his sharp jawline and tousled hair making him appear almost ethereal. His loose shirt waves in the humid wind. His laugh is infectious and loud, his eyes sparkling in the flickering light from nearby bonfires.

You watch as he focuses his blue eyes on a girl with a shaved head, sipping on his drink as she spoke. You chewed on your bottom lip as he licked the droplet of liquid that escaped his mouth. The pretty boy’s long fingers loosely wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle.

An amused voice cuts through your silent admiration, “You’re drooling.” You turn to see a girl with curly hair grinning at you. She brushes a stray strand away from her face and raises her eyebrows as she chuckles. You glance back at the attractive boy before turning fully towards the girl. You shrug, “Can you blame me? He’s hot and fun to look at.”

She nods towards him, "Are you gonna’ to go talk to him?" Her tone is playful and her brown eyes twinkle with humor.

You scoffed under your breath and responded firmly, “Absolutely not.” She looks at you with a puzzled expression as you give her a wry smile. Her own smile falters as she asks, "Why not? Are you embarrassed? I could introduce you to him if you'd like."

You emphatically shake your head, “Hah no. No thanks. I refer to him as pretty boy cause I don’t know his name. I do not want to know his name.  I haven’t talked to him because I don’t want to know if he’s an asshole. Like I said he’s fun to look at and I’d hate for him to ruin his pretty face with a shitty personality. It would also be too much work to find another hot person to quietly obsess over, so I’m good thanks.” You end your small rant with another wry smile and a drink. You return to observing the people around you as you await her response.

For a brief moment, there is silence before her boisterous cackling shatters the relative calmness of the night. You and several others instinctively turn to towards her. Her curls bounce as she laughs, gesturing towards the empty seat next to you with a mischievous smile. You nod and motion for her to join you. Squinting your eyes in amusement, your lips curl into a smile at the infectious energy.

Suppressing her giggles, she takes a seat next to you. "I'm Kay," she introduces herself. You exchange names and lean back in your chair.

"I don't recognize you. Are you new here?" You finish your drink, scrunching your nose at the bitter taste before responding, "No, not exactly. Lived in the northern colony til’ I was about 8 and my parents died in the mines… was moved here a little while after.”

Kay frowned and gave your arm a gentle squeeze, “I’m sorry…” There was a short pause before you spoke, voice soft “It’s been a while and I’ve had a lot of time to process everything, but I appreciate the sentiment regardless.” You return her gesture with a small smile and nudged her playfully.

Kay suddenly looks more alive, her eyes filled with a playful glint. "Do you make a habit of staring at people, or is it just him?" You chuckle and glance around, shrugging your shoulders. "I enjoy observing others from time to time...and yes," you nudge her playfully, "I may stare at him a bit more than others." She smirks and nods. Side by side, the two of you silently observe those around you.

As you take a quick glance at pretty boy, your face scrunches up in confusion. You sit up taller and ask, "Wait, do you know him?"

She laughs quietly and confirms, "He's my cousin." You take a deep breath and face her. Kay watches as you start to speak, but you stop yourself mid-sentence. She raises an eyebrow in question. “I was going to apologize but I’m not sorry.” You shrug and give her a playful grin. She shakes her head with a smile, “You shouldn’t be anyway, he can be an asshole.”

You lean back and prop yourself up on your elbows, shaking your head in playful frustration, “Damn…I knew he was just a pretty face.“ Cliquing your tongue, you give her a grin. You look up and lock eyes with pretty boy, whose piercing blue stare take in every inch of you. He takes you in from head to toe before meeting your gaze again. You raise an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as if you had never noticed him before. He flashes a smile and winks at you, licking his lips playfully.

Kay snapped you out of your staring contest with a gentle push and a mischievous smile. "You've caught his eye now. What should I say when he inevitably asks about you?"

You burst into a fit of laughter before shrugging, "I have no idea. Let's just not tell him anything. I don't need to know about pretty boy and he doesn't need to know about me." You gesture towards him with a playful grin, briefly meeting his gaze. His eyes widen for a split second before he returns the grin. He takes this as an invitation and stands up, prompting you to do the same. "Sorry to cut this short, but I'm exhausted from my shift." Kay stands up and surprises you with a hug - awkward, yet oddly comforting. As you part ways, you turn to leave but pause, “I’ll see you soon?” You cringe internally at how needy it sounds, but are relieved when she nods and says, "I'll see you soon." With a genuine smile, she leaves.

Without paying any attention to the pretty boy with blue eyes, you turn and begin making your way home.

Next Part

[cepheustarot]

Your karmic task in this life

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: As the cards show, you are one of those who tend to trust public opinion and adapt to it, the opinion of those people whom you consider to be an authority is important to you, and what matters to you is how you look in the eyes of other people, how you present yourself, what they think of you from the outside. You hear a lot of voices, but you don't hear your own, you can even suppress or ignore. Here your karmic task is to pay attention to yourself, listen to yourself, because you have a very well-developed intuition and you know best what you need in this life. You need to change your priorities and at least try to listen to yourself, question other people's opinions about your life. You could also feel for yourself that if you listened to someone else, took their advice into account and acted on their words, then everything went awry, you did not move forward, but there was a feeling that you were standing still or even moving backwards. As soon as you start paying attention to yourself, your thoughts and desires, then all the doors will open in front of you, nothing will hinder you, but on the contrary it will only push you into action and help you realize your desires and dreams.

Pile 2: You are probably one of those people who rarely finish what they started, you tend to give up after the first setbacks and never come back to it. Perhaps you are prone to perfectionism, strive to do everything perfectly the first time, it is important for you to be a successful person with great achievements, so you react sharply to your own failures. Here your karmic task is to learn not to be afraid of mistakes and failures, not to be afraid to look stupid and uneducated / ignorant, on the contrary, curiosity and the desire to learn something new should lead you ahead. You don't need to be too strict with yourself, to look up to someone else's result. It is very important to learn to be less strict with yourself, take care of yourself and move at your own pace. You can also be too categorical about yourself, it is important to learn how to recognize and use your talents and abilities, because you are a very smart and capable person. Don't be afraid to start something new and take on challenges, and don't be afraid to show initiative and self-confidence, you really can do a lot.

Pile 3: Most likely, you are one of those people who find it difficult to let go of the past, get rid of unnecessary things, and may be too attached to the material. You also prefer stability and tranquility in life, are reluctant to accept changes from the outside and cannot adapt to changes for a long time. Because of this, you prefer to keep everything under your control, because this way you feel supported by yourself and you feel less fear of losing something dear to you. Your karmic task is to free yourself from the fear of loss and the need to keep everything under control. Material things and some aspects of life come and go — this is a natural process of life. It is physically impossible to foresee all the consequences, all the changes in life, and thinking through further developments of events will only increase your anxiety and tension. It is important to learn how to take changes calmly, not to be afraid of them, to relax to some extent and go with the flow, because changes  ≠ something bad, they can be an opportunity to improve your life. You need to take into account past experience and be able to move on.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 💕

[htpssgavi]

Hello love 💗

I was wondering I could request some dating / boyfriend headcanons for Pablo Gavi?

Sending you lots of love

Mhuaw 💋 Mhuaw 💋

~ 🧸

GAVI BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS❤️💞

☆Gavi brings the same passion to his relationships as he does to the pitch. He’s fiercely dedicated and protective, always striving to make you feel cherished, valued and loved. Gavi is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a career, a hobby, or just need a confidence boost, he’s always there to cheer you on and celebrateevery single achievementof yours(even if what you have achieved is a small thing).

☆Gavi usually is an introverted guy around his friends and people, but with you Gavi has a fun and playful side, loving to tease you in a light-hearted way. Expect lots of inside jokes, playful banter, and maybe even the occasional pranks(I can write a fic about a prank if you want request it). He’s always up for trying something new, whether it’s spontaneous trips, late-night outings, or adventurous dates. He loves keeping things exciting and unpredictable. As long as he sees you happy he doesn't mind doing anything.

☆Gavi is extremely loyal. Since you two started dating you he unfollowed all the girls that he was following on instagram(it was his ideea).Once he’s committed, he’s all in. He’s not one to play games or be wishy-washy with his feelings. You can count on him to be there for you, no matter what. He values honesty and trust in a relationship, making sure there’s open communication between you. He’s always willing to listen and work through any issues that arise. 

☆Gavi enjoys surprising you with thoughtful gestures, like bringing your favorite snack or flowers after a long day or planning a romantic evening out of the blue. He also loves spoiling you with expensive gifts even though you told him he didn't have to do that, he still does that, especially if he was away for a long time, because of football. He might leave you cute notes or texts during the day(especially when he has early trainings), just to let you know he’s thinking about you. He’s not always super expressive with words, but he finds small ways to show his affection.

☆Despite his busy football schedule, Gavi always makes sure to carve out quality time for you. Whether it’s watching a movie together, going out for a walk, or just chilling at home cudling and talking about your day, he values those moments of connection. He’s a great listener and makes an effort to understand what’s on your mind. Whether you need advice or just someone to vent to, he’s always there.

☆Gavi can be really protective and jealous, especially when you get attention from the opposite gender. He wants to make sure you’re safe and happy, but he’s careful not to overstep boundaries. He respects your independence and accept your opinions, always encouraging you to pursue your goals and be your true self.

☆Gavi is really affectionate with you, often showing his love through hugs, kisses especially neck kisses, hand-holding and other small touches. He’s the type to pull you close whenever he can, but this all happens when you are just two of you because he is really shy around his friends and especially his family. He has a warm and caring personality that makes you feel secure and loved in the relationship. He’s attentive to your needs and always tries to make you feel special.

☆Gavi’s ambition on the field extends to his personal life as well. He’s always thinking about the future and working towards shared goals. He’s determined to build a successful and fulfilling life together. He encourages you to chase your dreams just as passionately as he chases his. He believes in you wholeheartedly and is always there to push you forward.

☆While Gavi might come off as carefree and easygoing, he has a deep emotional side. He values a relationship that goes beyond the surface, seeking a partner who understands and connects with him on a deeper level. It might take time, but once he opens up to you emotionally, you’ll see how much he cares and how deeply he feels. He appreciates when you give him the space to express his vulnerabilities without judgment.

[tiamathh]

What Sin do you Need?

Note: Hi!! Repost of an Old PAC hope you enjoy, like/reblog and comment if you do~ take what resonates leave what doesn't and please don't steal my work! Also follow my 18+ readings acc @xoxotiamathh (no minors pls!)

Masterlist <3

Pile 1: Greed

Strive for more, thirst for more, it may seem like greed is bad but a little bit never hurt anyone. You're limiting yourself a lot of the times because you refuse to let yourself want more. What's holding you back? Is it your past? Moving on from the past is important and will help you achieve the great heights you're meant to.

Be greedy for a better life, stand up for yourself and the life you want because if you don't start now than when will you? Greed isn't all about money and material objects, sometimes it's about oneself and what they want, what their ideal life is both socially and emotionally.

Pile 2: Gluttony

This might be a sensitive topic for some and I completely understand that so feel free to pick another pile and take care <3 TW// weight mention, ED, body shaming, starving, anorexia

Pile 2 I'll start off with this, I'm so so sorry if you've been through instances in your life where people have been rather unkind to you regarding your weight and looks, but please know they're all wrong. You don't need to starve yourself; you're doing so well just as you are. Instagram diets and diet suppressants are not what you or your body needs. You need proper nutrition, and healthy meals give you just that. I'm not telling you to be over indulgent of course not but keeping yourself from nutrition is doing more harm than good. For some of you, you've had run-ins with eating disorders, do what's good for your body, mind and soul, delicious food from different cultures will bring a lot of flavour, expand your palette. (Also, for some of you, stop being such picky eaters! Try new things!)

Take care pile 2 and stay safe <3

Pile 3: Sloth

GET REST PLEASE (sorry for screaming). Constantly working and burning the midnight oil and sleep, rest, take a pause. Inactivity isn't always laziness or negative sometimes you need to give yourself space to breathe and sit with your thoughts and feelings.

You're human after all, you need rest and relaxation to recharge. Or maybe you're running from something and distracting yourself by constantly working. You don't need to always work to prove your worth. Don't overwork yourself.

Pile 4: Wrath

Anger can be therapeutic, feel it. Anger can help you set boundaries, and establish your self-worth. A lot of people have probably hurt you before and taken advantage of your kindness, or calm demeanour but don't let them do that. Fearing conflict will not resolve anything, getting angry isn't bad especially when you have been wronged several times by the same people. We've always seen anger be a force for change, so use it in a way where you can change things about your life that you don't like and don't approve of.

Don't let people walk all over you, don't take the route of toxic positivity, your negative feelings are there to help you grow and are just as important for your overall development.

Pile 5: Envy

Have you guys heard of benign envy? I have, an exhausting amount to be honest and what I've learnt is it genuinely helps push you forward in life. It can often be bitter but it can lead you to work harder or be more determined towards achieving your goals. It can positively influence our attitudes towards life and help bring in good changes to your routine that will help you grow. And although it's said envy is rooted in low self- esteem, all that's needed is an abundance mindset to make it work in your favour. If you feel that pang of envy now and then that's not bad, use it as a driving force for to grow more in your own individualistic way because you may have been afraid to in the past. If you envy someone's style (this is coming through strongly) or their way of life, try to manifest and work hard towards making that your reality rather than wallowing in envy and self-pity.

Pile 6: Lust

Here I feel that lust is being talked about in terms of the self, not solely in a sexual manner but also in terms of desire. Pile 6, you need to understand that you are desirable and hot and stunning. If you feel sexual fantasies there's nothing wrong with that, it is a part of your human experience embrace it. There's nothing wrong or dirty about it, it helps you explore yourself more imo. You are sexy don't overindulge and sexualise yourself for others, external validation will not bring you the satisfaction you want, it needs to come from within.

Pile 7: Pride

Guys, pile 7, my loves, pride is not bad. Especially when it comes to the work you do, I feel like this is my artistic pile. Authentic pride is important to the integrity of your work, getting happy, feeling proud, getting satisfaction from an art piece or a written piece after putting in hours, days, weeks of effort should not make you feel guilty. Don't let people tell you that your head is too big or anything like that, it's not. Your pride will help you maintain your standards in everyday life, don't lower your standards for anything or anyone, you're too good for that. I would go as far as to say pride is one of the most important feelings/emotions but be careful to not let it turn into an inflated ego.

All Rights Reserved tiamathh©® DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, STEAL!

P.S. this is one of my favourite PACs I've ever done 🩷

[csmiclxtte]

Solar Return Observation (Mars Edition)

Early Degree Mars (0°~1°) can show that you strive for independence. You may have difficulty in directing your energy, which may lead to feeling of frustration, anger, and restlessness. Pay attention to the sign and placement. See if any people close to you have natal Mars in the same sign, because they may be the subject of your frustration too. They might do nothing wrong and being their usual self and yet it still irks you. House placement also cues to what you seek independence from e.g. home (4H), daily life, work, coworker (6H), friendship (11H).

Mars in Aries you want to get moving, channeling your inner energy through physical activity. You may feel pumped and eager to take opportunities. Exercises could help you to ease your mind. Staying active. You may pay attention more to your physique. You may be more confrontative, even if you are naturally not like that. I personally love this placement lol. This is the time when you stop giving a f to anyone and just go with your guts, what makes you feel good, what feels right to you. It's just an easier energy to move with, because Mars is in domicile.

Mars in Taurus is slow-progressing. Whichever house it's sitting in, you may feel like you're not making significant progress on that specific area e.g. slow progress in work (6H), dreams feel like it's faraway or impossible (11H). Achievement does not come instantly. Overall very slow, taking progress step by step. It may feel exhausting especially for mutable dominants.

Mars in 4H during this time, I spent most of my time at home. However, there is a restlessness of wanting to do more. Family may be your main motivation of taking actions. The closer Mars is to IC, it may pushes you more to move and progress away from your roots/house/home. All because you want to be more independent. Fights and arguments in family are possible, but understand that you can react differently from what you used to do in the past.

Mars conjunct Neptune can be times when one pour their energy to achieve their dreams. House placement often gives the theme (e.g. college/study for 9H, career or job for 10H). You can almost create everything in your dream to come true. From what I notice however, this aspect has a possibility to be short-lived. One moment you can "achieve" what you want, or there is a sense of achievement, but without careful planning such situation may not thrive. There may be a lot of confusions and crossroads. Your action may be taken differently by others, prone to be misunderstood.

Mars conjunct Chiron is actually not as bad as I originally thought. Maybe it also depends on the sign, but I found this aspect to quickly progress your healing era forward. You will face the wounds you had, whether you want to or not. Mars doesn't wait until you're ready. It would push you to take action and do something about your wound situation. It can be a messy aspect, of course. Not as enjoyable. Emotional outbursts is very possible. However, looking back to that time, I feel grateful because it kickstarted the journey in consciously managing wounds, and dealing with unpleasant things. Also signifies a lesson in handling your anger more efficiently.

Mars coniunct Mercury your mind is sharp, quick to process and to store information. You are decisive, assertive, even confident. Your mind is very capable, can solve problems easily. However be careful not to hurt people because of your words. You may feel lack of control/filter with your words, saying stuff you dont mean, or the word you want to say came off more aggressive than you originally intended. I'd say this is a good indication of good grades as well, because of heightened focus and mental capability.

Thank you for reading

[feyhunter78]

I’m sorry I never ask for writing requests but your Elrond fics have stolen my heart. I was wondering if you could write about him and a reader who had been through some trials (bad parents preferably but whatever you’d like is good) and he talks about how brave she is? Like how he loves her because of it? And possibly some sweet smut if you could? If not that’s all good, I love love your writings!

So my requests areeee closed, but I do have a soft spot for Elrond and comforting people, so I thought I'd make an exception, there is no smut though I didn't feel like it would flow naturally

Courage and Comfort

It is strange the bonds that bind, the joys, and sorrows that collectively inhabit and pass down a family line, tainting one, honoring the other. An endless cycle of shared traits and habits, a history that one cannot blot out no matter how hard they endeavor to, and Valar knows you have endeavored for years upon years to cleanse yourself, to rewrite the past. But you can no more do that than the sun can refuse to rise in the morn.

Though when you hear news that your parents were in Lindon, to visit your sister, you feel as if the sun has refused to rise, darkness overwhelming you, choking you. The news is delivered by a young elf, who looks appropriately concerned when the scrolls you are holding clatter to the ground, stooping low to retrieve them for you. You take them gratefully and dismiss him, your feet taking you away from your previously chosen path, and back to your shared chambers with Elrond.

But fate did not favor you, and you passed by your parents in the gardens. You kept your head held high as you made brief conversation with them, moving about as if it had not taken all your strength, until you were blessedly at the door to your chambers, scrolls clutched tightly to your chest.

Elrond, your sweet husband who no doubt will be buried in his work with the High King, you do not wish to bother him with your fear, your sorrow. He has spent so very long comforting you, the last time your parents had deigned to visit Lindon. Your vision blurs and you wipe your eyes, angry. You will not cry because of them; they did not deserve your tears. And yet when you cross the threshold, depositing the scrolls on your desk, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cannot stop them from flowing. How in such a short span of time have they wrecked you? They barely spoke a few words to you, and it has affected you so greatly.

Sinking down into a nearby chair, you bury your face in your hands, breathing slowly as you attempt to calm yourself. Attempt to push your fear and grief far from your body, to let it evaporate into the air and disperse, no longer plaguing you. After a while it works, a lightness replacing the heavy weight on your chest, the sunlight returning, the birds singing, and Elrond is there seated in the chair across from yours. You startle, having not heard him come in, your cheeks heating as embarrassment flushes through you.

“My love, apologies, I did not realize you had returned.” You say, giving him a weak smile.

Elrond shakes his head, reaching forward and taking your hands in his. They are warm, gentle, calloused more now that he has returned to training with his sword. “The messenger came and found me; he was concerned for your wellbeing.”

You give a soft, half-convincing laugh. “What a sweet boy, he simply surprised me, but it was very kind of him to be concerned.”

Elrond’s thumbs smooth over the backs of your hands, his oakwood eyes focused entirely on you, pulling you in, paging through your defense like they are a children’s book. You have never been able to hide your true feelings from him. “It brings me no joy to hear your parents are visiting, even if it is not to see you.”

It is an opening for you to speak your mind without judgement, a way to ease any guilt you may have for expressing reluctance, or anger for he has done it first. It warms your heart, how he cares for you, how he strives to make expressing your more difficult feelings and emotions easier.

“I ran into them, on my way here, I know it would bring them great pleasure if I hid while away for the rest of their visit, but I cannot—will not let them win. I have done well for myself, risen above their contempt, this is my home, I should not have to hide.”

“No, you should not.” He affirms easily, his expression steady but sorrowful. 

“I know I should not.” You look down at your joined hands, swallowing hard. “But why do I feel so afraid of the very idea?”

“Because you have never done it before.” He says simply, his voice calm, soothing the fluttering of fear in your chest.

You cannot meet his gaze. “Perhaps I am not courageous enough.”

“You are. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the act of looking past it, persevering even when you are afraid.” He reminds you, releasing one of your hands to gently tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his. “You are very brave, my starlight, you proved it today. You did not run, you faced them head on.”

“I had no choice.” You deflect, though his words pull your heart further into the light.

“That does not negate the fact that you stood your ground, you could have run.” There is a smile tugging at his lips, one that makes you wish to smile as well.

You give a slight shrug, looking away. “I guess you are not wrong.”

Elrond chuckles and brushes his thumb across the center of your lips. “I am never wrong when it comes to the bravery of my starlight.”

His touch makes you shiver, all fear, and sorrow banished, replace by a warm, glowing feeling. “Oh?”

He nods and sweeps a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Your courage is one of the many things I love so dearly about you.”

“Is that so?” You ask, your head tilting up instinctively seeking out his lips.

“Yes, your courage and kindness, your beauty, your intelligence, it all ensnared me for the moment we met.” He says, his lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your heart skips a beat, even though you have heard these words hundreds of times, they still affect you all the same.

You loop your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap, his lips meeting yours with slow languid movements, soft and sweet, he tastes of sunlight, banishing any lingering darkness from your mind. Your body and mind align, tuning your senses to Elrond, losing yourself in his very existence. The scent of him, the taste, the feel of his hair, his hands, his lips against yours. You can certainly continue to be brave if this is your reward.

TROP tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace, @emmyspov, @elrondswifey, @victoria-styles, @90angiex, @lucypaulette

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (15)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings (varies per chapter): best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, anal sex, smut, kissing

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

← Previous Chapter (14) | Next Chapter 16 →

*****

You never included urgency in your vocabulary before. Admittedly, it took you a long time to go from befriending five-year-old Jungkook to accepting Soobin as a part of your life. Your slow pace and reluctance can be attributed to your childhood trauma and the betrayal of loved ones.

You never included urgency in your vocabulary, but you’d be damned if your hands didn’t urgently—wantonly—peel Jungkook off his clothes.

“Ngghh,” Jungkook moaned into your lips; his hips rubbing desperately against you.

“Kookie,” you murmured, matching the need ringing in Jungkook’s voice. You unconsciously gripped Jungkook’s messy hair, pulling it back so you could have access to his neck and plant kisses there.

It felt good, too good. You couldn’t focus on anything else, lost in the moment. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, though. You two were just at ADA, eating your comfort food. Jungkook was finally sharing his past without a filter. He told you everything, revealing how he felt responsible for Jimin’s death.

You didn’t know how to react. You had a complicated relationship with Jimin, mainly because you knew Jungkook held Jimin in such high regard—almost akin to a God, someone who could do no wrong and could bring him into the light. 

So now that Jimin was gone, you realized just how it made sense that darkness engulfed Jungkook.

But he couldn’t be too far gone, you thought. Seeing Jungkook at the noodle shop, looking vulnerable, made your stomach sink. You yearned to see a genuine side of Jungkook, but were surprised by the woeful state of your best friend. Your soul felt as if it was set on fire as you cupped Jungkook’s pale cheek.

Jungkook strived to heave a breath, though it came out as a strangled noise—almost like a screech. Some people looked your way, worry clear on their faces. You couldn’t bear their stares, afraid they would push Jungkook further on edge. You immediately went near your best friend, taking off your jacket and carefully draping it over Jungkook’s shoulders. You ran your fingers through his locks before gently pulling the hood up and over the back of his head.

“Hey,” your move was agile yet deliberate. All you wanted was to envelop Jungkook in the thick fabric of the jacket, hiding him from the nosy onlookers. You felt lost after seeing this side of Jungkook. It left you feeling protective; your heart shouted that you were the only one allowed to see your best friend like this.

You dug your fingernails into your palm, swearing that you could have prevented Jungkook’s suffering if only you had known what your best friend was going through. It wasn’t your fault that Jungkook found someone else to bring him comfort. In fact, it was a betrayal on Jungkook’s part. However, to this day forward, you decided you would ensure Jungkook would not dare to look into other’s way.

The realization was like a tidal wave. You thought it was because you couldn’t stand such pitiful eyes of Jungkook. But you weren’t just seeing your best friend’s pain—you were feeling it, too.

You loved Jungkook. You fucking loved Jungkook, so much so that Jungkook’s pain became your pain.

And it hurt. You couldn’t breathe at the thought of Jungkook shouldering all this burden. You didn’t want to blame yourself because Jungkook fucked up, that’s for sure. But a part of you wondered... were you so insensitive that Jungkook sought your sister’s warmth instead? What was Jungkook thinking when he pressed his lips against Jisoo that night? What if you had been the one to kiss him? Would Jungkook swallow your shared spit along with the violent urge to curse the people at Bighit who betrayed him?

You snapped back to reality. Your unholy thoughts made your heart recoil, but you couldn’t get the image of Jungkook relying on you for comfort out of your mind. You wondered what it would feel like to let Jungkook fuck you until all of his pent-up rage oozed out of him and into the soft plush of your skin.

You guessed your fantasy led you here—with Jungkook moaning and whining. But thoughts were all you had. An unclear line between desire and uncertainty messed with your mind. It was Jungkook who made the first move, easing your worries: that everything would be fine. You both wanted the same thing:

You called for an Uber because you wanted to hide Jungkook from the nosy onlookers. Meanwhile, Jungkook realized he couldn’t stay outside anymore, wanting to be alone with you as he reprocessed the trauma that had broken his soul. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck while waiting for your ride home. He sought solace against your skin. A rush of warmth flooded through you, hopeful that maybe this time, you could be the one to understand Jungkook.

And so home you two went. You guided Jungkook to his room and brought him tea to soothe his nerves. Jungkook seemed to be out of it, clumsily accepting the teacup and ending up burning his tongue with how absentmindedly he drank from the cup.

Looking closer, this seemed to be the reason you two were all over each other now. Jungkook wasn’t used to you being soft to him at all. Something in him must have snapped when — 

“Slowly, Kookie,” you reminded Jungkook, before gently wiping his mouth with your bare hand and taking the cup away from him.

Jungkook’s lips were soft, and touching them sent a tingling sensation through your body.

Jungkook shivered too. He rubbed his lips against your hand that was lingering near his face. You didn’t flinch, indulging in the warmth of Jungkook’s breath grazing your skin.

“You know, you can continue with your stories, right?” There was a lump in your throat, yet you managed to voice what you should have insisted years ago. “I’m here for you, Kookie. I’m not gonna leave. You can do whatever.”

It was meant to placate Jungkook—a form of apology, if you will. It was unclear what made Jungkook think you were getting his letters, but you believed it was your fault for not knowing. You wanted to pry more information from Jungkook about this, but you could talk about that later, as Jungkook seemed to have other plans.

Your softness instilled an idea in Jungkook. He thought... he really thought he—

“Can you...” Jungkook swallowed thickly. “—kiss me?” His lips still burned from the hot tea, and it didn’t help that his eyes were bloodshot, hands shaking with adrenaline. Jungkook felt like he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had such a strong desire for you, so he acted without thinking: he forcefully pressed his lips against yours, kissing you until you were left breathless.

Frankly, it wasn’t at all a force of intimacy. It didn’t take long for you to kiss Jungkook back—with much more urgency—more fervently. You pushed Jungkook to bed and got on top of him.

“Fuck.” Jungkook’s toes curled when you sucked bruises to his collarbones, fingers flicking his clothed nipples. Jungkook’s jeans felt tight; it didn’t help that you were rubbing your hips there.

Jungkook wanted to feel more, to have you above and under him. He grabbed your nape, just like how wolves bite the back of their mate’s neck. The need to feel you going pliant in his embrace fueled his already burning desire, but just as he was about to kiss you, Jisoo’s face, along with those men in prison, suddenly flickered in his mind.

Jungkook instantly let go of you as if burned, causing you to collapse onto his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was hoarse. You cupped Jungkook’s cheek to see any sign of discomfort, though all you saw was fear.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was Jungkook having second thoughts about you again?

“Hey,” you forced yourself to speak. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” It was an immediate and straightforward response, yet it just made you more confused. You raised your brow to question him.

Jungkook bit his lip, a wave of uncertainty washing over him. Yet, as your fingers lazily caressed the side of his waist, heat surged back through him, tightening his pants once more.

“Then what do you want? Use your words, baby.”

Jungkook fought his tears, and the urge to melt against your embrace. For a split second, Jungkook considered throwing away his rational thought and to just selfishly indulge himself with this sweetness.

“I want y-you.” Jungkook stammered as he gripped the bedsheet tight. He wished he could touch you instead—pin you under him and kiss you senseless. “B-But...”

Your face crumpled, a flicker of worry crossing your features. Nothing good followed the word but.

“But you have a boyfriend.” Jungkook ruined his life years ago when he gave in to his desire and slept with Jisoo. He could very much do it again, seek pleasure from the only person who could give him eternal bliss. However, pleasure wasn’t the only thing on Jungkook’s mind.

Above everything, Jungkook wished to prioritize your happiness. You both wanted to sleep with each other now, but what about the aftermath? What would you feel after the heat of the moment had passed? He didn’t want to let you forever carry the burden of a one-night pleasure (despite it being a perpetual act of love for Jungkook.) Jungkook didn’t want you to hate yourself for ruining a relationship with your lover. Jungkook might not know the person you were dating, but it didn’t make it less real.

You and your lover had something. He noticed it firsthand when he saw you two kiss.

“Hmm,” You hummed thoughtfully, your breath warm against Jungkook’s skin. Relief washed over you. “We’re not cheating on him.” With that, you trailed wet kisses along Jungkook’s jaw. The warmth of your mouth was a scorching fire, making Jungkook swallow as you moved upward, kissing and licking Jungkook’s reddening ear. “Min-ah and I are over.”

“Min-ah?” Jungkook pinned you beneath him in an instant, his heart pounding in a frantic rhythm. Acid burned in his throat. Min-ah? Why were you calling him that... softly?

You chuckled devilishly, the sound low and sultry. “Yes, Min-ah and I broke up. He gave me a goodbye kiss, that’s all.”

“Goodbye kiss,” Jungkook echoed, his tone stone-cold, lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Like this...?”

Your lips brushed ever so slightly. You fought the urge to chase after Jungkook’s lips. Instead, you said, “Harder,” with a voice thick with desire.

Jungkook pressed your lips together, teeth grazing your lower lip.

“Harder,” you whispered, the heat pooling in your core.

Jungkook laughed mockingly, but his kiss deepened. This was getting ridiculous. One moment, he was battling with the thought of doing this. Now, all he craved was to kiss you deeper, harder. God, he wanted you so badly.

“Harder, Kookie. I want you. Not him.” I never loved him. I love you. These words were stuck in your throat. You simply kissed and touched every inch of Jungkook, fingers exploring your best friend’s body as if memorizing the way he arched his back. You were desperate to see him fully.

Jungkook felt overwhelmed, torn between worshipping you and the chaos inside him. He swore he wanted to give everything he had to this moment, but...

“Are we going somewhere here?” You spat, impatience getting the best of you. It felt like ages since you’d tried to strip Jungkook’s clothes, but you only managed to peel off his jacket.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing the hem of Jungkook’s shirt as lust threaded through your voice. “Strip for me, Kookie. Let me see you.”

Jungkook’s lips trembled, but he obliged. His shirt landed on the floor, revealing his upper body that was covered in goosebumps.

Bandages.

Jungkook unconsciously covered his body with his hand—an alternative to the out-of-reach bandages. He wished he could cover himself with bandages to hide his every scar.

“Kookie...ma douce douleu,” the French term of endearment unconsciously escaped your mouth. You weren’t fluent in that language, but the most intense emotions that painted your heart happened in France. You wanted to love Jungkook with all parts of you.

“Don’t hide. Please.” A plea. You carefully gripped Jungkook’s arms, urging him to lower his defenses and let you see.

Jungkook groaned, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was weak. He was so fucking weak for you.

However, you didn’t want to take advantage of Jungkook’s soft spot. You only wanted to see your best friend. Your eyes didn’t even linger on the marks left by those men, but you didn’t ignore them either.

You craned your neck to kiss Jungkook’s scars.

“It won’t happen again, Kookie.” The scars would never be fresh. Your soft kisses were an assurance. You didn’t say it was okay now, because it was never okay to begin with. But at least, it wouldn’t happen again. You would sell your soul to ensure this.

“I want to love you.” You stripped off Jungkook’s pants, stroking his now-free cock. Jungkook shivered at the touch. He whined.

“Shh,” You climbed on top of Jungkook once more. Jungkook was shaking, but he froze when you touched his bottom.

It was a sore spot. Literally. Time had passed, but Jungkook’s pain had yet to heal.

You knew that.

“Let me love you, Kookie.” You squeezed the lube over Jungkook’s cock, your eyes locked on him as you spread your legs, exposing yourself.

Jungkook’s mouth went dry, and he felt breathless as you sank down onto him.

“I—ah,” Jungkook grabbed your hips, but you swatted his hand away. You wanted to do this all by yourself, your intention clear as you suppressed the discomfort of having your other hole filled.

You moaned, face contouring with exaggerated pleasure. Sex, at best, was performative—a way to show desire.

But you wanted to show love. You wanted to control everything for now and let Jungkook know that taking itshouldn’t hurt. You wished to erase Jungkook’s unpleasant memory of having someone inside.

It should make him feel “Full,” Your lips parted, a sweet moan escaping your lips. “Kookie, you make me feel full. Fuck. I’m—”

Tears filled your eyes as you bounced up and down Jungkook’s cock. He nearly lost his mind at how well you clenched him. He wanted you to feel the same pleasure, so he attempted to rub your clit.

But you pushed Jungkook’s hands again. You wanted to come untouched. 

“Just kiss me, Kookie.” Your eyes glistened with tears. It shouldn’t turn on Jungkook, but seeing this pitiful look on you made him feel hot.

He leaned forward and shoved his tongue inside your mouth, wantonly tasting every part of you.

“Ah, so close.” You scratched Jungkook’s back, feeling your legs shaking. It didn’t take you long to reach your high.

“Fuck, Kookie. I love you.” You couldn’t hide it anymore, and neither could Jungkook. Time seemed to stop, rationality leaving his body as pleasure took over him. He couldn’t honor your wish anymore. You had cum, but Jungkook had yet to feel his sweet release—he grabbed your hips and pounded your ass relentlessly.

“Inside.” You didn’t even let Jungkook ask. You bit the brunet’s neck. “You can come inside, baby.”

Jungkook used to be the biggest flirt, thriving on dirty talk and irritating smile, but loving you made him lose all his senses. He was completely smitten with you, causing all his thoughts to vanish.

Jungkook could only call your name as he cum inside of you. I love you. He wished to say. I love you so much that I lost my mind. He wasn’t Jungkook anymore—he wasn’t prisoner Jungkook nor was he the drug dealer Jungkook.

He was simply Jeon ‘who loved you’ Jungkook.

Loving you was so easy. It felt like you were a part of him. Jungkook collapsed on the bed as realization hit him: This time, I wouldn’t survive without her by my side.

Jungkook didn’t know it, but beside him, you thought the same. You loved Jungkook so much, all his baggage be damned.

*******

You and Jungkook lazed in bed for a few hours after kissing and worshipping each other’s bodies. You didn’t dare talk about Jungkook’s past anymore, even though you still had questions. Some things could wait. For now, it was enough that you were okay.

Besides—

Jungkook abruptly sat up when he remembered something.

“What’s wrong?” You creased your forehead.

“Soobin,” Jungkook’s expression was that of a worry. “We’re late. We have to pick up our son from school.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Soobin’s in good hands.”

After booking an Uber earlier, you also texted your ex. You broke up with Jang Min, yet a part of you still trusted your ex. You asked Jang Min to pick up Soobin from school and babysit him for the day, as you wanted to focus your attention solely on Jungkook. Fortunately, Jang Min agreed. He even said he was happy to do as he treated Soobin like his own child.

“Oh? Did his teacher agree to look after him?” Jungkook was relieved, but he felt bad—like he abandoned his son once again.

“No,” you answered. You got up and stretched. Your body ached. “I asked Jang Min to babysit him.”

“Jang Min?” Jungkook blanked out, but weirdly enough, he felt as if blood was draining from his face. He tried to clear his throat and laugh as if chuckling would soothe his nerves.

It did not. He felt his throat burning.

“Yeah, Jang Min.” You sighed, thinking that Jungkook was going to get jealous. “Jang Min’s my ex-boyfriend, but we—”

“Hey,” Jungkook stood up and gathered his clothes on the floor. He gripped his shirt tight, a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Is…is Jang Min his real name?”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow and stood up, too. You knew it was normal for Jungkook to get jealous, but wasn’t he acting too weird? “Why do you ask?”

“Just answer me!” Jungkook didn’t mean to snap. However, the ugly feeling twisting in his gut made him agitated. Jungkook was rarely wrong when it came to pain and bad news. He was the king of receiving those.

“Why are you so fucking pissy?” You clenched your jaw.

“Just answer me, please.” 

Jungkook didn’t enjoy begging. He was a proud, flirty man who figured out things on his own, but right now, he was acting like his literal life depended on your answer.

You couldn’t help but worry. You stopped beating around the bush and sighed. “His Korean name is Jang Min.” You swallowed, “But he’s half-Russian, and people there call him Fyodor. Jang Fyodor or Fyodor Dostoevsky--”

The world seemed to stop—no. Jungkook’s breathing stopped. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say Jungkook’s heart stopped for a while before its beat doubled.

Jungkook’s hands were shaking. He called your name ominously and then he said, “Soobin is in danger. We have to get to him now.”

*****

A/N: Guess who came back with a new chapter? Me! Unfortunately, the next update will probably take a long time again since I am battling with mental health issues. My corporate job has drained me so much that I feel like I need to resign. My parents have been supportive (even though I legit ugly cried in front of them for days.) But I figured I need to suck it up for a while until I have enough work experience and money (to afford law school, and frankly? therapy.) I, unfortunately, live in a country where mental health issues are still quite taboo (?) One session of therapy probably amounts to my 3 day salary LOL.

Writing has become my outlet to somehow lessen my stress, so I am very happy to be able to share this story on Tumblr. Likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated. Thank you!

P.S: I don't really like writing smut, or anything related sex, but my brain FORCED me to write this. (Wah, I'd rather kms (jk)) than reread this chapter again, so apologies for any errors. Haha!

See you next time! xxxx

Oh! Btw! We are nearing the end of this story ;)

← Previous Chapter (14) | Next Chapter 16 →

[updatingranboo]

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

[lovebvni]

Winter Themed Pick-A-Pile !! (from 12.21.21)

❍⌇─➭ welcome to ﹀﹀     ︵↷

⌗my blog : ๑ ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ⌨꒱

Here are the questions we'll be answering today! Summited by the LOVELY Rozy !!

1. What do I need to do to fully shift?

2. Shifting advice from your spirit guides.

3. Shifting journey for this month.

4. Advice from your s/o.

There will be 4 piles today, all unique, but you can always pick more than one!! But remember, everything comes with a grain of salt because this is an amino with over a THOUSAND people in it. It wont be specific just to you ! Also, if you're unsure, just do this for me.

Take a deep breath in....

Hold for 3

Now let it out and allow your intuition to speak.

The first number 1-4 that comes to mind, THAT'S going to be your pile. If more than one comes, trust it.

[1, 2

3,4]

Pile 1 - With your perfect toes TRIGGER WARNING : DERALISATION IN THE 3RD QUESTION, ALSO DEPRESSION AND MENTIONS OF TRAUMA/SH

Spirit, What does Pile 1 need to fully shift? Like a final push?

The Hierophant (R), The Devil (R) The Chariot

I feel like you guys need to let go of traditions, or routines! You don't need ANYTHING other than yourself to shift, you're powerful! Your doubts, I feel like you're silently telling yourself you'll never shift, You will ! I promise, so STOP telling yourself you're weak, worthless, etc. Then you're gonna STRIVE!

Shifting advice, from your spirit guides !

King of Swords, 2 of Pentacles (R), 10 of Swords (R)

Okay wait, let me say something, I think you're shifting before january 1st... I got 10 of swords and thats like the end of waiting for something. Realize your power, and the good things will run to YOU !! Write a letter to SOMEONE, ANYONE in your dr ! I feel like they'll be really happy about it ! I see an abundance of good luck and success for you guys, just the weight of the world being lifted off you, just so much peace, happiness, love, abundance, GOD I love you guys sm, keep working for you goal ! Just - GOD I LOVE THIS I CANT IM GOING TO CRY!! I FELT MY HEART JUST FLOAT ITS - GODDAMIT I CANT WORDS !

Your shifting journey this month

Page of Pentacles (R), King of Swords, 3 of Swords + Ace of Pentacles

I don't think you guys have that great attraction to this reality... I feel as if you're going to suffer this WHOLE month because of one bad thing that happened, you heart is in pain, you want to end it all, DONT! I see a new beginning for you this month, so PLEASE! Don't stop trying, everything seems like its falling apart, it's not I swear!

General Advice from your s/o

10 of Pentacles(R), The Devil, The Chariot

OKAY WAIT THESE ARE THE SAME CARDS FROM QUESTION ONE??? THE DEVIL AND THE CHARIOT - BUT THIS TIME THE DEVIL IS UPRIGHT...

But they saying stop obsessing over someone/something, like material possessions? but probably not, that only applies to some of you. There's stuff going on around you, and I can tell, that's black energy, let go of it, cleanse it, FUCKING BLOCK IT OUT! That will help you move forward a LOT !!!

I hope this pile made you realize something !! also check this out below !!

IMPORTANT THINGS ABOUT THIS PILE (personality traits, things i kept hearing, important things/people, angel numbers): distractions, shifting for your s/o, love, lack of self-love, misunderstood, determined, "it's set in stone", "It's stuck in my chest", messages, lots of signs, heartbreak, blood,  the colour red, Himiko Toga, Hisoka (bestie idk), derealization, spacing out, ADHD, ADD, attention disorders, stop - no go, WAIT STOP (almost like things you're being told are contradicting), material girl, Air signs, Capricorns, Cancer, Fire signs, 555, 111, 1111

Pile 2 - the deer is gonna start chasing you soon, NOW RUN !!!

Spirit, What does Pile 2 need to fully shift? Like a final push?

The Empress, 8 of Wands, 8 of cups

Realize. I could stop right there, but you just need to REALIZE everything. You are SO LOVED !! You have so many good things coming to you. A union is coming, I can tell your shifting for someone, probably friends and just to have fun.Walk away from ALL the doesn't serve you, things that aren't helping, worthless things.

Spirit, can Pile 2 have some shifting advice?

Ace of Cups, The Lovers, 10 of Wands

Okay, there is a new beginning coming, but you need to realize you need to SPEND TIME with your partner, weather in your cr or dr, I feel like they miss you and feel lieft out rom your life.

Can I know something about Pile 2's shifting journey this month?

6 of Wands, The Empress, 2 of Swords(R)

You're going to win SOME kind of fight !! I feel like you guys are going to get your first shift or a BIG boost of motivation to shift. But you guys are SO FUCKING WORRED ABT IT ! choose where and when you wanted to shift, stop making changes to your script.

Does Pile 2's s/o have any general advice?

The Devil (R), Ace of Cups, 5 of Cups

You're being freed soon! You cup isn't going to be half full or half empty, ITS GOING TO BE OVERFLOWING!! You're going to let go of SOMETHING or SOMEONE and that's going to make such a difference. They love you btw! < 333 Positive energy is coming !

IMPORTANT THINGS ABOUT THIS PILE (personality traits, things i kept hearing, important things/people, angel numbers):  Hunchback, sitting weird, overthinker, Panic attacks, Panic Room - Au/Ra, intuition driven, physic, Cancer, Water signs, 888

OMG PILE 3 IS GETTING MARRIED !!! ROUND OF APPLAUSE !!!

What does pile 3 need to shift? Do they even need to do something?

Ace of Swords (R), Queen of Swords, 2 of Cups

Okay, you guys need to get out your little shitty bubbly and TALK TO PEOPLE !! This will help a lot, I feel like talking to shifters will help, like-minded people are ALWAYS the best to speak to. I know, you're independent, but you can't do everything alone.

We need shifting advice for pile 3, I've been doing this for 4 hours PLEASE -

Knight of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Judgement (R)

Your prince is coming~ they could also be a princess. Come True - khai dreams, Forest came on so uh.... listen to that  But realize good things are coming to you ! Focus on the best version of yourself, you're a ruler ! You are NOT what anyone negatively says to you, you're amazing.

Pile 3's shifting journey this month?

Page of Swords, Strength, Judgement (R)

If you have the strength, determination, and reality to shift this month, you will.

General advice from Pile 3's s/o's

5 of Pentacles, 8 of Cups, The Emperor

I dropped all my cards during this omg... but major Bakugou vibes. You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and more IF you just TALK, SPREAD UR WISDOM !!! Just make a blog on something, you prob have drafts you should inish it and post it

IMPORTANT THINGS ABOUT THIS PILE (personality traits, things i kept hearing, important things/people, angel numbers): Air signs, independence, introvert, 1010, Denki Kaminari, Hunter x Hunter(listen to the intro song rn), Clumsy

Pile 4, FINALLY, bestie i've been at this for 5 hours

What does Pile 4 need to fully shift?

10 of Cups, Ace of Cups, The Chariot

Go check out Pile 1 after this, but I feel like you guys need to ground yourself. You want to go to one reality, then the next, then the next, in like a dAY this will lead you to move forward with a new beginning.

Shifting advice from your Spirit Guides.

The Hierophant, Page of Wands, The Devil

When you try to shift, look at it like you WILL shift, like you ARE shifting, you ARE in your dr, like you HAVE succeeded !! Any time you get bad news, just be happy, be accepting of it !!

Shifting journey for this month.

9 of Wands, Queen of Cups (R), 7 of Swords (R)

Okay, sadly, you are not shifting this month because of how much you have to changeee, literally I- if you dooooo its because you make a dramatic change quickly. I'd be REALLY suprized if you do shift because you are STUBBORN ASF !!! You're ignoring signs and warnings, stop. Stop.

Advice from you s/o

6 of Wands, Knight of Wands, The Lovers

Socialize, try to get in a better position by talking to others. I feel like you're taking a trip/going on a journey so enjoy it !!! You're going to meet new peopleand you'll be excited, and hell maybe even meet a cr s/o.

IMPORTANT THINGS ABOUT THIS PILE (personality traits, things i kept hearing, important things/people, angel numbers): Disappointed, sad, sorry, Fire Signs, stubborn asses, Katsuki Bakugou

Okay guys! I hope you enjoyed the pick-a-pile!! I do private readings if you need anything ! I hope this resonated !! Again sorry pile 4 for being a bit bitchy but Spirit said what Spirit said, and sorry for everyone going through anything, it will get better soon !!!/gen

[atragicallycrispydude]

Oh my god Slayer. Slayer is real in Strive. Here are some interesting things in his trailer.

After using Bloodsucking Universe and then landing what seems to be It's Late (which is interesting itself because It's Late requires a Dandy Step and Under Pressure to come out,) the COUNTER! text is replaced with UNIVERSE! It would honestly be nice if the counter looked different somehow to differentiate between the forced counter and a normal counter.

While it looks like maybe his teleport forward dash has been removed, it seems like his backdash is still a teleport, and also potentially cancelable with a forward dash? It's unclear, but it looks like he follows up this with a dash 5K.

An edit: after looking at it closer, he's cancelling it with what seems to be a new move (it's like a... two hand push?) that is then cancelled into 5K, or a dash 5K. BDC appears to still be in the game!

Dandy Step also seems to potentially have different properties: This is ABSOLUTELY Dandy Step, it has the same smear effect that Xrd Dandy Step does, but this just... happened. No backwards movement. There is one with backwards movement, but maybe P Dandy Step is just the forward bit? (Also, Strive players, pls help, can you normally move through Scapegoat I can't remember.)

I think the most interesting thing is that Slayer looks significantly older in this new design, except when landing what looks to be a command grab overdrive (similar to Heavenly Potemkin Buster, where you can combo into it.) After grabbing Sol and taking a big chomp out of his neck, he looks younger than even his designs in previous games.

All in all he looks unreasonably fucking cool. And so awesome. And cool. Clothes de-install. Except his tie. Why did he do that.

His new English voice actor is also AWESOME, AND THEY BROUGHT BACK HIS AWESOME JAPANESE VOICE ACTOR HES SO FUCKING COOOOOOOL AUUUUGH