#writing this post took a long time but it was really fun!!

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back. “ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

[totalswag]

Hey girl so I was wanting more dad drew and I was wondering if you could do something like where Tatum is like a teenager and her personality is a lot like her moms which causes them to buttheads sometimes, and in one argument Tatum says some hurtful thing to her mom making her mom cry so drew had to have a talk with her. You can add Leo to idk I was just kinda thinking but besides the point I love your work and I think your amazing keep up the great work girl love ya

teen tension ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note stop i miss writing dad!drew, one of my favorites. tatum as a teenager is a mixture of both parents. thank you so much for the kind words it really means a lot. happy new year everyone, i hope you all had a fun and safe night <3

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masterlist

summary tatum, your oldest, says a few hurtful words to you that make you cry. drew has a conversation with tatum about what she did to you.

warning(s) arguments, crying, child + parent arguing.

Tatum is very much like you when you were a teenager. Moments during the week where you two buttheads about certain things that are typical for a mom and daughters to "argue" about.

However, tonight took a turn for the worse. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table finishing up dinner. It had been a long day at work for Drew and you been home cleaning the house.

Leo was talking about how his day went—recently, Leo, has gotten into basketball and wanted to try out for the school. Drew and you were excited to hear the news and encouraged Leo to try out.

"Tatum, could you kindly get off your phone? "Your brother is talking," you say aloud, attracting her attention as you point to Leo, who has stopped talking.

Tatum rolls her eyes and sets her phone on the table beside her dish. "You can put it on the counter please."

"Why can't I leave it next to me?" She gives you an attitude, "We are sitting at the dinner table eating, and none of us have our phones next to us," your tone remains casual but firm.

"Leo can still talk and I won't be on my phone" crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to move her phone from the table.

Before Tatum can finish speaking, Drew cuts her off with a clear and serious voice and says, "Tatum, watch your tone and listen to your mom." 

Tatum groans loudly, pushes her chair out, picks up her phone, walks to the kitchen, and puts it down after rolling her eyes in frustration.

"There look you happy mom?" Tatum mumbles "so dumb" under her breath as she emphasizes with her palms raised.

You hear her say, "It's not stupid, Tatum." We've had this regulation in place for a very long time, so I don't see why everyone is acting this way—" Tatum slams her hand on the table and interrupts you in the middle of your statement. 

"Please, Mom, just shut up already. I'm tired of you being irritating these past few days—" "Tatum Ann Starkey you will not speak to your mom like that, ever!" Drew abruptly interrupts her, throwing his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. He gestures for her to "go up to your room now," and Tatum gives him a terrified face.

The corners of your eyes well up with tears. Leo comes running to you and gives you utter comfort. You are wondering why Tatum has suddenly started acting this way.

Leo hugs you close to him and says in your ear, "You are the best mom ever, mom. You did nothing wrong."

"Thank you baby."

"Leo, while I comfort your mother, could you please return the little condiments to their proper places? "Thank you, buddy," Drew says to Leo, who nods and follows instructions.

"Are you okay baby?" Drew asks, crouching down and placing both hands on your knees, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm fine, just confused as to why she's acting this way towards me," you say gently, sniffling.

Drew and you begin discussing what has just occurred. Drew was not pleased with Tatum's actions toward you, her mother. You do so lot for this family, and Tatum does not need to vent her frustration on you.

Drew soothed you in every manner conceivable, making you feel more at peace about yourself—he's the best thing that has ever happened to you. The sound of his words made you relax, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I'm gonna have a talk with her upstairs," he pauses, "I love you."

You give him a soft smile, pulling the front strained away from your face—leaning forward in your chair, thinking what just happened. So many thoughts running through your head.

Drew knocked on Tatum's bedroom door, and you knew he was going to give her a big lecture on how to communicate with your parents. You've discussed this with both of your children numerous times.

Leo walks into the living room with a bowl of ice cream for himself and you—he's always been a momma's boy. Leo brings you the bowl and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Thank you, Leo," you say, throwing your free arm around him and drawing him into a side embrace. 

"Of course mom, I love you."

After five minutes, Tatum and Drew come downstairs. Drew muttered something to Tatum before elbowing her toward you. Leo moves from the couch to wherever Drew is in the home.

As she settles on the couch beside you, Tatum sighs—crisscross apple sauce. "Mom I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you at the dinner table," she says after a little pause. "I shouldn't spoken to you like that."

You take in Tatum's words, "I forgive you, Tatum. What you said to me really hurt," Tatum lets a tear fall from her cheek, "be cautious with your words, darling, I love you," taking her in for a loving, lengthy hug.

You and Tatum unwind in each other's arms while letting the tears flow. Tatum reiterated the same words to you: "I love you, mom, and I apologize." Regardless of how you argue, you will always adore your children.

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[ryuichirou]

TWST boys’ sleeping habits and routine HCs

Our first HC post of the year! Let’s talk about TWST boys’ sleeping habits.

Anonymous asked:

May I request sleep habits for twst? Who snore? Who drools? Who clings onto you in your sleep? Who falls out of bed w/o waking up? Who knocks others out of bed? Who has a constant sleep schedule? Who has the worst? Who likes to share a bed? Who doesn't? Who does no one want to share a bed with?

Anonymous asked:

In honor of the sleepover bday card (Tysm for these, yana) do you have any hcs about their sleeping habits? How long they sleep, sleeping positions, any bedtime routines and the like?

I got the first ask back in autumn I think (yikes), and with each new bday card I kept thinking “I really should write this one faster” lol With the new theme for those cards, as amazing as it is (we’re obsessed), there is a chance that they might drop some crucial information about the topic of this post! Which would mean the most horrible thing – there is a chance that my hc might contradict canon…!! 😱

Jokes aside, please keep in mind that I write them without diving into the new cards. Which is exactly the point I guess – those are headcanons after all…

Thank you for this prompt, it was a very fun one to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it <3 Sorry it took so long!

Anyways…

Riddle – he has a pretty strict regimen, and just like some other boys in the cast, he gets very obviously sleepy around the same time every day. The cutest eepiest slow blinks… He goes to sleep pretty early, maybe around 10 PM, and he is very strict with others in that regard as well, but in actuality sometimes night becomes his opportunity for a “me time” when he can get a little self-indulgent and read a book instead. He knows that he shouldn’t do it, and that he’ll be tired and irritable the next day, but it would be a lie to say that Riddle absolutely never does that. Once he discovers books that aren’t encyclopedias or study guides, he’ll start doing it more often… He also looks like an angel when he sleeps! And he drools a little bit, but also pouts adorably. He also loves pushing his face against the pillow sometimes and hugging it. He’d probably cuddle or press his cheek against someone if he got to sleep with another person…

Ace – a fighter, not a lover. If he sleeps with someone, he’ll steal both the blanket and the second pillow somehow. He’ll also kick and punch and occasionally even nibble a little, just to drool all over the other person and/or a pillow. But also, he wakes up during the night a lot. It’s not like he has insomnia, but sometimes he finds it difficult to fall back asleep, so he ends up just hanging out, scrolling internet on his phone and watching his roommates sleep. Well, mostly Deuce, because his bed is the closest. And even though Ace himself is a pretty obnoxious sleeper, sometimes he can spend like an hour just giggling at poor Deuce… Jokes on Ace though: because of his sleepless shenanigans he hates waking up! He is never rested enough..!

Deuce – he mumbles in his sleep and moves a little… you know when a dog starts suddenly whining and “running” while sleeping because it dreams of chasing someone? That’s Deuce. He is not too active at night, but Ace saw him punching the air once and saying something like “serves you right”, and Ace had to bite his own hand not to laugh loudly waking everyone up. Deuce also says embarrassing stuff sometimes. He also called Ace an idiot in his sleep at least 5 times. He wakes himself up doing that sometimes, but pretty rarely. When he does though, he usually sits up on his bed and takes a couple of moments to figure out what’s going on. Ace loves talking with him when he is in this confused stage…

Trey – he probably falls asleep pretty fast because he gets tired by the end of his busy days. But he never really feels properly rested, even though he sleeps a normal amount of hours… is it because he sleeps on his stomach? He also looks kind of angry when he’s sleeping, as if he’s seeing some very bad dreams. But he never really remembers them when he wakes up, maybe he doesn’t see any bad dreams at all! But it’s not unusual for him to frown and squeeze a pillow or a blanket in a very tight grip while he’s sleeping. He also doesn’t really snore, but sighs every now and then, so a potential roommate might hear a very deep annoyed and disappointed sigh from Trey, only to look at him and see that he’s just sleeping… If he was to sleep with someone though, he’d probably have a hard time relaxing and would wait until the person is asleep. Especially if it’s Riddle.

Cater – he spends the majority of the night in his phone lol he doesn’t even have much to do there, he just scrolls through Magicam or watches videos on topics he isn’t really interested in. And he is sleepy when he does that, he recognises that he should probably go to sleep already, but he can’t quite beat this habit, so he just keeps sleeping for like 3-5 hours a day. He wouldn’t do it if he had someone to sleep with though! Or at least he thinks that, but he’d probably still spend the majority of the night chatting with the person instead lol For now he gets away with it because he snoozes during the classes, but whenever he hears someone talk about how bad it is for your health to cling to your phone instead of sleeping, he gets mildly annoyed.

Leona – a pretty seamless transition between his “just napping” and “sleeping” lol Sometimes he naps after dinner and then at some point it becomes “well it’s night already anyways so might as well go to sleep”. And then he wakes up during the night and walks around his dorm while everyone’s asleep… and goes right back because he is pretty bored, and there isn’t much to do. He changes his positions a lot throughout the night, but usually ends up sleeping on his back – it’s the most comfortable position to him. It’s not unusual to see him sleeping on his side facing the wall, or on his stomach with his butt in the air for some reason. Leona is a pretty quiet sleeper, but sometimes he makes little sniffing sounds. Sometimes he makes one (1) snore and wakes himself up and looks shook for a moment or two. He also calls himself a capricious prince, but sometimes he actually prefers to sleep on the floor. Not all the time though, he loves his bed as well. He also hates the idea of sleeping with someone, but it’s not like he would bother to wake up and tell the other person to leave if he was in this situation.

Ruggie – if he is in a very good mood, well-fed and comfortable and safe, he is a happy snoring starfish. He drools a lot, and even when he doesn’t snore, his breathing is still pretty loud and a bit hoarse, but it also sounds like he is pretty happy. But that doesn’t happen all the time, for the most part he curls into a ball and snores quietly every now and then, with his ears twitching, as if he is constantly trying to still be aware of his surroundings. For the most part he is a light sleeper and doesn’t even sleep for more than 5-6 hours, but when he gets especially tired, he doesn’t wake up easily. He hated waking up at night because when it happens, he has to get comfortable again – he wants his pillow to be super cold, but it’s already a little sweaty and all warm! This is the worst feeling.

Jack – as we know, he always goes to sleep at the same time, and he gets very sleepy at 10 PM. He wakes up pretty early though, probably the earliest in his entire dorm, at around 5 AM. It’s not as hot when it’s this early, plus he really loves the solitude: he feels like he gets more shit done this way, and of course it gives him plenty of time to exercise and jog. As for his sleeping habits, he doesn’t move at all when he sleeps. He just lies on his side, hugs the pillow and sleeps… similarly to Deuce, Jack gets those sleeping puppy moments, but his are a bit different: sometimes Jack growls in his sleep, he also frowns a lot. There are rare moments when he sleeps with his tongue out and breathes through his mouth, but it happens mostly when it’s too hot, and he starts throwing away pillows and blankets without waking up when it happens. He gets hot pretty easily… He also drools a little less than Ruggie, but still a lot.

Azul – he sleeps for exactly 7.5 hours each night to optimise his time, and he is an extremely cautious and light sleeper. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, he won’t fall asleep anywhere other than his bedroom, behind closed and locked doors. It’s not like he is expecting an assassin or two at all times to attack him at any moment, and life on the land isn’t as dangerous as his hometown underwater, but isn’t comfortable with the idea of becoming too comfortable, so to speak. It’s a habit, I guess. Any unexpected sound or movement would wake him up. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, that is; we’ve seen him falling sleep with his head on Riddle’s shoulder in ch6 after all… Azul also lives tiny and dark spaces, so he hides under his blanket. Even though his bed is pretty big, Azul doesn’t take up that much space at all, curling up with his knees almost touching his chin. He also absolutely wouldn’t call himself a cuddler, but it’s not really true: he hugs his pillow a lot with his arms and legs, and if he was to sleep with someone, he would probably hug them as well. It sounds cute, but he is actually too rough sometimes because he is used to grabbing things. He could also pinch the person he sleep with… octopus habits… poor Idia is covered in bruises :(

Jade and Floyd – they have different sleeping patterns, but a similar “base” for it. They go to sleep at different times, and since they share a room, it’s kind of a problem.  Jade goes to bed pretty much at the same time each night; sometimes because he gets tired, sometimes to spite Floyd a little by saying “I am so tired, can you please turn off the lights already?” Sometimes he genuinely wants to sleep, but it’s Floyd who is annoying him… and every now and then there are nights when Floyd is absolutely exhausted and goes to sleep early, and Jade takes it as an opportunity to troll him back by suddenly deciding to clean a terrarium while humming a song. Why now of all times? A sudden strike of inspiration <3 You can either blame neither of them, or both of them for that: both are aware that they’re annoying the other by not letting him sleep. Anyways, when it comes to their sleeping habits, both are swimmers. They either move their bodies in the same manner as if they’re swimming (sometimes it just looks like Floyd is aggressively humping his bed but that’s not it I swear), or rotate. Because eels love rotating, the second option happens surprisingly often, so both of them are at risk of falling from their beds and rotating on the floor until they bonk each other with their heads and proceed to sleep on the floor. The funny thing is, when they sleep underwater, they’re pretty calm and don’t move as much; I guess they do miss swimming… Floyd is also more of a cuddler than Jade, but Jade is more of a muncher. If Idia sleeps with both of them, the bite marks are going to be Jade’s…

Kalim – it looks like he sleeps without a care in the world, which isn’t really the case because his bad experiences have taught him to wake up very quickly and to react to sudden noises. He is actually pretty tender and capricious as well, if something about his sleeping conditions isn’t perfect, he’s going to react. Every now and then Kalim just goes to Jamil with “hey, Jamil? I can’t sleep” and asks for them to sleep together, or insists of chatting because he isn’t sleepy anyway. Kalim loves not sleeping alone, but talking through the night is something that Kalim absolutely adores. They used to do it a lot when they were kids, and always got in trouble for that (esp considering that Kalim sleeps for the entire day after a sleepless night)…Kalim also clings a lot, but then he suddenly gets too hot and pushes Jamil away without even waking up. But then he gets a bit chiller and starts clinging again. He drools and makes cute little sounds, and anyone other than Jamil would probably find sleeping Kalim as adorable as one would find a babbling toddler. Jamil, however, is very tired…

Jamil – another cautious sleeper, he is almost never 100% asleep, so in a way he is worse than Azul. He does get sleepy though, he is indeed very tired, and it sucks because the tiny window of time before he falls asleep is his only opportunity to get some “me time” and read a book or play games on his phone, but he never does that because he is always exhausted. So after his sleeping preparations, washing his face, brushing his hair and all that stuff, he just wants to sleep… he also hates sleeping with someone, because they (let’s be honest mostly Kalim) would accidentally tug on Jamil’s hair, plus it’s too hot to sleep with someone on a small bed, plus he isn’t really a cuddler anyway. Anyways, he goes to sleep like an hour after Kalim’s sleepy time, and wakes up ~3-4 hours before him. Which isn’t enough time to get a nice rest, but… let’s hope that when Jamil gets to travel and has a hotel room all for himself, he’ll have his first ever nice sleep…

Vil – one of the strictest ones when it comes to his sleeping regimen! Beauty sleep is important, discipline is important, and if one has to work or study during the night, they’re just very bad at time management! Of course, there are days when Vil has to stay up late too… but he hates when it happens; he just wants to have his evening beauty routine, wash his face without a rush, take a nice shower, apply an overnight beauty mask, brush his hair, put on his sleepwear, relax in his bed and have a nice deep sleep from 10:30 PM to 5:30-6:00 AM. Oh, he also wears a sleeping mask and even earplugs sometimes, and also tries to teach himself not to use his phone while in bed. It just ruins his mood, and it’s bad for one’s health too, but he still gives in and scrolls Magicam in bed sometimes. And when it comes to sharing a bed with someone, he is a bit conflicted – it’s not like he hates cuddling, in fact, he enjoys spending the night in his loved one’s embrace, and he doesn’t even get too pissy about feeling hot, sweaty or uncomfortable in that situation, but… I guess Vil just loves having a big bed all for himself lol This is his moment of privacy. So whether he’ll spend the night alone or cuddling depends entirely on his mood that day. He is a very quiet sleeper, and the most that could be heard from him is a cute quiet moan when he’s being disturbed by something.

Rook – does he sleep? Or is he too busy being in everyone’s walls? His roommate doesn’t quite get it: when he falls asleep, Rook isn’t there yet, and when he wakes up, Rook’s already left. He knows that Rook sometimes spends the night with Vil, but… In actuality, Rook does sleep, but he is very strategic about his sleeping schedule. He doesn’t sleep much during the night, 4-5 hours is his max because he has too much to do! Sometimes he takes short 20 minutes powernaps during the day while he’s hiding around. This man is, once again, a creature. Also, even though one would say it’s impossible to catch Rook sleeping, people do see him sleeping sometimes – it’s just that he learned how to do it with his eyes open and while sitting up. Which is… a bit scary, so anyways! When it comes to his bedtime routine, after all the beauty stuff is done, he spends quite a lot of time to admire the pictures that he took and the sketches that he drew of everyone that day – this is a very important ritual to him! But despite that, he actually really enjoys sharing a bed with someone, be it for intimacy or just for cuddling. He hugs and kisses a lot, even when the other person is already asleep. He also loves watching him sleep, which is not creepy at all!

Epel – he shouldn’t use his phone in his bed, but he does! When he manages to sneak it under his blanket, that is. But it’s also not unusual for him to fall asleep while holding a phone and to have it fall on his pretty little face, waking him up. So he tries not to overdo it… he is a very cute sleeper though! He makes sounds, but a little weird ones, like little whines or even tiny mewls sometimes. And sometimes he giggles very cutely! What kind of dreams are you having, Epel?! Anyways, he is a deep sleeper that munches on his pillow sometimes. It’s better than sucking a thumb, and I won’t say that Epel just taught himself out of that fairly recently, but I also won’t say that this isn’t the case. Alright, no more bullying lol I think he sleeps on his side while hugging a blanket. Very adorable, until he starts snoring or swearing in his sleep…

Idia – a lot of times he just falls asleep in front of his PC. Especially now that he doesn’t have Ortho to share a room with, but even when Ortho was his roommate, he’d go to the sleeping mode at some point and tell Idia to go to sleep as soon as possible, Idia would reply with “yeah yeah I’m going” and play games for 2 more hours until falling asleep in his chair… Sometimes he wakes up at like 5 AM, realising that he’s been sleeping for a while, and lazily crawls on top of his bed without even changing into his pjs. He doesn’t really have much of a routine… He also curls up when he’s sleeping, looking like a cute kitten, and you almost feel bad for him somehow when you look at him. Is it because his relaxed face is so pathetic? Or should we feel bad because of how troubled he is when he’s asleep? Anyways, Idia either sleeps for 3-4 hours and naps throughout the day, or sleeps for 10 hours and feels weird when he finally wakes up. He is also super not used to sleeping with someone else and would be uncomfortable, but there is a part of Idia that wouldn’t mind getting backhugged by Azul (until he starts pinching) or… sometimes Idia wonders if Muscle Crimson hugs his possibly existing wife when they sleep.

Ortho – I guess not applicable this time :( But he does consider himself charging in his sleeping mode to be his sleeping routine! Sometimes he “wakes up” earlier than everyone and just flies around the dorm though. Human!Ortho would be a very nice sleeper though, he would change poses like 10 times per night, even kick poor Idia a little. He would prefer to sleep in Idia’s bed even when they aren’t roommates anymore, and he would probably be one of the biggest cuddlers in the cast!

Lilia – no regimen, his sleeping schedule is a mess, pretty similar to Idia’s. He used to be very good at it when he was younger, but now he just plays games all night lol And then after saying good night to his internet friend, he decides to go to bed and… stumbles upon some useless junk in his room and decides to play with it! It’s okay, old people don’t need to sleep all that long, if at all sometimes. It’s not unusual for Lilia to completely ditch sleeping, but he can’t do it for more than one day… When it comes to position, Lilia just falls flat on his bed and starts snoring loudly. He has that dad snore… He also changes positions a lot, and he could kill a guy with how suddenly he moves and rolls. Sometimes he also sleeps upside down, hanging from his bed’s canopy. He also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, he is pretty used to it! In a lot of ways… but people sleeping with him get punched and kicked unless he hugs them tightly, so not everyone is really up to that.

Silver – after his evening training, his nighttime routine and checking on his father to tell him to go to sleep already, Silver comes back to his room… and sleeps. Even his evening routine doesn’t take that long – I don’t think he uses any products on his face or even brushes his hair much. He washes himself, changes into his pjs and goes to bed… And for the most part he sleeps on his back, looking like a certain cursed princess. There isn’t much to say about the way he sleeps, but he breathes very quietly and cutely, and looks absolutely stunning. His roommates really want to kiss him sometimes… but not a single one dared to do it so far. Silver also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, but to him it wouldn’t really make s difference one way or another.

Sebek – amazingly strict regimen that he follows dutifully! He’s never late, he always wakes up exactly one minute before his alarm and turns it off! He goes to bed at 11 PM and wakes up at 5 AM! And it doesn’t make him sleepy in the slightest – in fact he has too much energy to burn and too much things to do! That being said, sometimes he wakes up randomly in the middle of the night and has a hard time falling back asleep. I guess he’s just too agitated and overly excited sometimes… But he tries to quiet his thoughts and get back to sleep as soon as possible. When it comes to his sleeping habits, he is surprisingly… chill. One would expect him to be more obnoxious, but he yells in his sleep extremely rarely! Once every 2-3 months… so you never know when it’s going to happen next. He also looks at his liege’s portrait before going to sleep and when he wakes up, this is the first and last thing he sees every day, and it warms his heart and fills him with determination. As for sleeping with someone, he doesn’t mind if he has to do it, but he doesn’t see a point in that either. A silly boy…

Malleus – sometimes it feels like he doesn’t sleep at all. Maybe he doesn’t really need to sleep as much as humans do? Which is kind of ironic, but anyways, it’s not unusual for his bed to be empty at night because Malleus suddenly decided that he isn’t really sleepy, and figured he’d rather go on a walk. Sometimes he just walks around the dorm, but a lot of times he goes outside to get some fresh air. He loves the time of night when everything is quiet and everyone’s asleep, he finds it melancholic… perfect for drowning in deep thoughts, admiring gargoyles and reading. Anyways, when he does sleep, he almost doesn’t look alive: he breathes very quietly and looks so pale and cold… he actually gets much colder during the night, so he’d be naturally drawn to another person’s heat. He was very clingy when Lilia used to sleep in his bed~ He still is sometimes…

[middle-ans]

Can you post the Blind date at a dance class please 👀

Sure, thank you for asking! Ah, this one even took longer to write somehow, hope you’ll enjoy it (1915 words)

It's so stupid, he can't even chase the doom away from his face, standing in front of who should be their coach-coordinator for the day, since no one here has come to dance really. A tall man with hair generously styled with gel claps his hands, drawing all the attention in the room to himself, quickly adjusting the headset on his head.

“Now, you will all be divided into pairs at first, completely random, it doesn't matter if you don't like the first partner, you will switch them every few minutes on my command,” his smile is wide and charged with an enthusiasm that George doesn't remember having in himself for a long time. How does it feel to actually be excited about something, after numerical failed dates with guys from dating apps and zero interest in wasting his time on this nonsense any further.

His friends apparently thought otherwise. Alex was persistent, Logan soft but determined, Oscar played along with the general hilarity, and it eventually led George to that particular moment - standing in front of a stranger with his arms spread out in invitation until George himself decided to finally move. Blind dates are a bygone age if it's just a certain number of people hooking up at a table with each other on the whistle like players on a soccer field. But if you take away the tables, gather those hopeless couple-seekers in a dance hall with mirrors, a coach and salsa motifs, Alex said, at least it's more fun. Hardly, as George tries to smile plausibly and accepts the invitation of another man's hand, settling one palm on the man's shoulder, the other in his arm. He wasn't a confident enough dancer to dare lead.

“So, I'm Isaac,” the man tells him, smiling a little too broadly, almost maniacally. “I'm thirty-two, the proud father of two kids, if we regard cats as such.”

Isaac laughs to smooth the edges, but George is already flinching in his confidence to be in this room and can barely keep smiling so studiously. He swallows, nodding detachedly and peering over the man's shoulder to see who will be his party for the next three minutes. God help him make it through two more.

“I'm a lawyer in my father's firm,” the next one, Jack, John, Jake, whatever, grabs his waist the way he'd grab a judge in court by the collar, probably, George shudders, letting his breath pass over Jack's shoulder. No, he has to be Jake after all. “Dating isn't my thing, but I need a serious partner. You don't really play games when you're 28, one has to look forward to a future with a family now.”

George is 26 and is more than happy to play games, if only a decent second player could be found. He's so eager to play games that he even lasted three whole months with a strange type named Aaron, who though caused too many question marks in his head, sometimes with bright red flashers, was muscle and face attractive enough to occasionally swallow it mixed with moaning in bed with him. Hugely interested in sports, too little percentage of his brain separated for anything other than that, he barely talked to George anymore except for the times they went to the gym or for a run together, most of it still spent muttering about calcium and protein and cardio.

“Ed,” he's greeted by short hair, deep-set eyes, and a husky voice with an accent pronounced enough that it slips even into his quick retorts. “Wow, you're tall. Ever considered a modeling career?”

George sighs frustratedly, this is going nowhere. He lets go of his partner's number six or seven, knocking the whole round of pairs out of rhythm and backing away, pressing a palm to his forehead and digging his fingers into his hair. The door is right there, a few steps away, so George exhales his frustration and moves confidently toward the exit until his arm is trapped in someone else's grip and he's abruptly turned back around, caught in the soft press of his ribcage. He blinks in surprise, grabbing his partner's shoulder more out of reflex to stay on his feet, but the view revealed besides those shoulders mesmerizes him enough to stiffen and claw at the exposed skin almost to the mark in the shape of his fingernails.

“You're not going to deny me a partner, are you?” the man grins, chuckling as he makes him move just a little, pulling back a few inches so George can breathe. And he takes the opportunity with the full force of his lungs.

“Sorry, I-” he shakes his head, suddenly ashamed of his almost successful escape. “People here are so-”

“Not the most interesting conversationalists, I'll agree,” the stranger nods, settling an arm around his waist and casting glances at the coach to check how they should move. “But here we are. And I'm Lewis, by the way. Unless you're planning on running away from me too.”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, George shakes his head, smoothing out the marks he's managed to leave on the skin of Lewis's shoulder.

“I'm George. And no, I think I'm going to stay a while.”

“Really? I'll take that as an honor, George,” he winks at him, pulling him a little closer to tear George off the floorboard and spin him around in the air, definitely not something the coach has been showing them all this hour. “Not a big fan of dancing?”

“Not really.”

“Why the dance blind date then?” Lewis smiles, bowing his head as if this interest in him is actually genuine and natural. George can't find any flaw in that face though he's been looking at it for a second minute.

“It's my friends, probably too tired from my unsuccessful rounds of dating apps.”

“Oh,” Lewis drawls understandingly, nodding. His voice, George can't figure out its mystery, leaning closer to catch where the velvetiness pours from, wrapped in huskiness and softness, so mesmerizing and warm. Like the strength of his hands on George's body, be it elbow, then wrist and palm, waist, middle of his back, one bold slide to his hips when Lewis should give him a spin and catch him back. “I can see that. Can't say I'm sorry those attempts failed, but.”

George grins amazedly, raising his eyebrows.

“Subtle,” he mutters, submitting to his lead easily. He could actually negotiate George's body in its minor maneuvers on his form, all on the thin edge of propriety.

“And, we're switching!” the coach announces loudly, clapping his hands.

It's unfortunate, George questions their hiccup, but Lewis slides his hand farther down his waist, entwining them more instead of letting go.

“Stay,” he murmurs above a flushed ear, and George drops his eyelashes to flutter across his cheeks, nodding coyly.

The coach casts an odd glance at them but says nothing, and one pair has to go around them to move on to the next partners. When George dares to look up, Lewis has that killer smile that dazzles in the sunlight bouncing off the mirrors around him, satisfied and confident, leads them further around the circle.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” George exhales into the golden grid of pre-sunset light between them, examining the intricate designs scattered in no doubt deep meaning across the dark smooth skin.

“Do you like them?” Lewis reached his hand on his shoulder, taking it in a cautious direction and lowering to the beginnings of the ink on his neck, just below his earlobe. George is certain his cheeks are already giving him away with gusto, but he tentatively tastes the proffered patch of skin for softness, warmth strikes his pads and he traces a neat ornate script of letters lower down the tendons of his neck. “I still have a few blank spots I plan to fill in.”

“It's beautiful,” George hums, all too melting in his hands as if they'd met not half an hour ago but years earlier.

As the music let them flow on with the smooth rhythm of their acquaintance, they ignored every next call to switch, sometimes the dance itself too, making it all just about touching and spinning here and there, Lewis holding him in the ring of his arms and looking straight through his eyes, too attentive and sincere for George to object.

“What do you do for a living?” the man asked, tucking a curl tickling George's cheek behind his ear.

“I work in PR. Boring as it sounds.”

“Oh, partnered with any restaurants ever?”

“A few. Why, do you own one?”

“Actually, yeah, in Soho. The Green Spoon, ever heard of it?”

George faltered, breaking out of a rhythm that was already going radically at odds with what the other couples were doing.

“That's yours? Really? I was there,” he tries to get the mumbling under control, licking his lips and slowing his speech. “The mushroom risotto is fantastic.”

Lewis spreads a smile even wider than the ones he's already given, his palm creeping higher up the spine with a gentle circling of his thumb over George's shirt.

“My signature recipe,” he shrugs his shoulder as if there's nothing to it. “And you seem to excel in the art of dancing.”

There must be something to do with a partner, George doesn't voice it, leaning shyly against Lewis's shoulder and letting go of the tension in his eyelids while a warm, husky laugh vibrating in the man's chest against his own after they've taken step after step closer together.

“You're good at that,” he states simply, feeling a breath sneaking across his skin higher as Lewis lifts his head.

“The dance?”

“At... This,” George gulps thickly, gesturing with their intertwined fingers between their bodies. “Making people feel like they belong.”

“Maybe because you do.”

They talk, and laugh, and even manage to dance in the midst of it all, melting into chatter and giggles until the final call stops them, the coach having to clap his hands a few times to get their attention. Lewis returned his gaze once he was sure the class was indeed over, everyone heading to their belongings at the entrance.

“Would you mind if we continued this sometime after? Dinner, at my place?”

George laughed softly, shaking his head. He couldn't realistically find a reason to say no.

“I'd love to,” he murmurs, lowering his head until a finger taps under his chin, guiding him into the sight of other's gaze. Lewis digs through the pockets of his pants, pulling out a pen from there.

“I'd be flattered if you took one of the empty spots with your number,” he points to the scraps of skin not occupied by tattoos, and a blush blooms a deep carmine on George's cheeks as he picks a place on the man's forearm, tapping his fingers gently before writing his number. It's so silly, he bites his lip giggling until he finishes, handing the pen back to Lewis.

“I'll be looking forward to the call, I suppose?”

Lewis grins, leaning over his face and pressing a fond kiss to his flaming cheek. George shakily says goodbye to the air as the tip of his nose traces the wet imprint of lips and the facets of piercings teasing his patience.

“I don't think I'll last much longer than until tonight,” Lewis winks, retreating to the greatest distance that separated them today. “So check your phone, George.”

[malinowaj]

2024 fandom review

thank you for the tag @nerdyfangirl76 and @almostlake 💜

warning: this got really long

fics written

in 2024, i posted 3 finished fics and one currently on-going WIP. in total that was 122,542 words and i keep looking at that number in complete disbelief.

i started the year by saying, multiple times, i'm not going to write anything because it's been nearly a decade since i wrote for fun. then i had an idea and was all "well, maybe if i wrote this one short thing, posted it and then dipped never to be seen again". insert my friend laughing at me at regular intervals because we all know that's not what happened.

always losing to win is very dear to me, for several reasons, and it'll never stop blowing my mind how many people have read it and been on that journey with me.

fics read

my AO3 history is about 300 fics, but i did not sort out my logins until months into the year, so the actual number is probably somewhere closer to 350.

i tried to pick a few favourite fics i read and limiting myself to just these is hard. i regret to say none of these have received the praise, comments and love from me that they deserve, because it took me months to get over my comment shyness. but i hope this makes up for it a bit. (new year's resolution: more comments for everyone.) in alphabetical order by title:

almost is never enough by @in-amor-veritas

there's a scene in this with kent's 747 that i have the strongest, plot-wise most insignificant headcanon about and i think about it every time i hear the song. which is often. and then i end up thinking about the whole story.

another dose by stargazers

it's such a beautiful version of wilmon, because it's so them. and it's hot.

chasing our sunlight by fitz_y

if there ever was a fic that lives rent free in my head, it's this. the way it deals with so many heavy topics has made me cry, but it's such an incredibly crafted story i come back to it often.

forever i'm yours by @goldenwilmon

the way the fall in love in this one? hands down one of my favourites ever. whenever i need some fluff and happiness in my life, this is the one i go for.

little light by @unfortunate17

possibly one of the first, if not the first, wilmon fic i read in 2024. it broke something in me, but also healed something in me.

reckless abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues

i absolutely love the concept and the way all the characters are so well-rounded. one of the fics i could not stop reading and can't wait to read again.

so loaded, eye low by @enjoythesilentworld

the chemistry, the angst. the sweet, delicious angst. and hot as hell.

where be left off by @gulliblelemon

the best way for me to fight some physical pain? some emotional pain. and this one has it, in the best, most beautiful way. very few fics have i devoured like i did this one.

the wolf comes home by @phneltwrites

after months, i still keep thinking about a particular line in this one. the trauma aftermath, the way they deal with it. also my favourite established relationship wilmon.

looking forward to in 2025

i can't wait to read and see all the amazing fics and gifs and edits and everything this fandom comes up with. i already know there'll be so many wonderful things i'll enjoy.

as for my own writing, i'm trying to get a good chunk of hope and legacy written before the insanity that'll be my life from late january to the end of february. (no context chapter 4 spoiler: simon steals a flag.)

there is also in from the cold, the espionage AU i have about 10K written for - and that's barely the beginning. i don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, but i do love the concept and all the research i've done for it.

i have been thinking about space wilmon lately, and while i said i'm not going to go down that road myself, i did remember a few lines from record of a spaceborn few that may have sparked an idea. it might become something one day, or it might never be more than the few disjointed lines and ideas i have typed in my notes.

there's also a file with a list of songs that i might want to build stories around. in general i have a lot of ideas, but very few of them might become anything. i'd like to put it down as "english is not my first language so writing is slow" thing, and while it is that too, it's mostly me being a perfectionist and not able to let go. (which is why i should probably have a beta telling me 'this is fine, go post it'. if anyone feels up for doing that...)

the biggest, warmest thank you to everyone who's read anything i've written, left kudos or comments, sent messages, in any way engaged. it has made my year, and this fandom experience so special 💜

not tagging anyone, but if any of the authors i mentioned haven't done this yet and would like to, i'd love to read your reviews.

[meamiki]

Happy Anniversary In Stars and Time!! Have some Friend Quest based drawings :D

(These have specific quote picks related to them! And there's also a long ramble on why I like those specific quotes below if interested)

(And by long, I mean roughly 2k+ words of proper ramble total, so be warned before clicking keep reading this link right here to the rb!!)

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Second chapter of my post RoTT Trollhunter! Strickler fic is up!

Slight warning for a depiction of a panic attack, and for the long chapter, hopefully it doesn't come across as too much filler.

Summary: Jim panics when he discovers the amulet did not go to Toby, and has no idea where it has gone. A conversation with Strickler after class leads to a startling discovery. Strickler was chosen as the Trollhunter. And Jim has never felt so out of control of events so quickly. But as he and Strickler discover the amulet's abilities together, Jim is releaved to know he's not alone.

This time I have some of the original dialogue of the first post I made about this AU in the actual chapter! See if you can spot it! ^^

@toodrasticallydumb again for inspiring this!

[hildifons-hairyfoot]

You snuggle down in your room with your warm, delicious pot of porridge in your lap. The aroma of chicken and spices hits your face and your smile in anticipation. It has been a cozy morning where you slept in and woke up at noon, relaxed and starving. You stirred your porridge as it came to a boil and watched over it as it cooked. A sizzling sound comes from your pot; the food must still be hot.

A long, slender snake tongue wraps itself around your arm. You gasp in surprise, flinching away. The shape of a snake tongue has been seared onto your arm, burning and throbbing.

You walk over to the fridge to look for an alternative breakfast. The hum of the fridge is calming, beating in tune with your heart. As you open the fridge door, you hear panting behind your back. You do not own a dog.

Frustratingly, the fridge looks empty. You could have sworn you went shopping yesterday. You look closer and on the bottom shelf of the fridge lies a tiny octopus, its body pulsing as blood flows through its veins. There is a tentacle wrapped around your leg. The octopus has teeth for eyes.

You hear someone sobbing in your room. Your eyes are dry and yet the voice sounds like yours. Tortured, demented, a cry from hell. You step into the hallway to check out your room. The walls are screaming, shouting, wailing. You see shadows surrounding you. Your shadow is nowhere to be seen. What feels like a hand brushes against you but you are alone.

Your room feels impossibly far. Every step you take tires you to your very bones. You’re hungry, a hunger that extends to the very tips of you fingers and the depths of your heart. The walls are wet and slippery. Maybe shadows are just like that.

 You are being watched. From every angle, from every corner, every crevice and crack in the wall. Don’t make a squeak. Be silent. Play dumb. You cannot get caught.

You try to open your bedroom door but the doorknob is too high to reach. Your hands are soft and chubby, like those of a child. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want someone to help you. You don’t say a word. You will be punished for every miniscule action that is out of line. Mocked, belittled, marked as inferior.

Your bedroom door is open. You walk in to see your lifeless corpse staring back at you. He is pale yet drenched in blood. His hand clutches a soft toy so torn up you can no longer tell what it once was.

I’m sorry.

The bathroom growls. When you open the taps, your reflection in the mirror laughs. There’s no mercy here, it mouths.You need to get out. Run. Find somewhere safe.

Where the front door should be are rows upon rows of teeth. Gnashing, their shiny, pointed tips terrify you. Something dark and thick covers the windows. Through the gaps, you see an insect fly too close. The mass bubbles and spits and the creature disappears.

The house – your home – is too loud. A cacophony of words overlapping on each other. You flinch instinctively, the shadows coming closer and closer. You see versions of yourself hiding in every shadow while one of you cries alone in the hallway. You have three heads. One of them sees you. You run.

You reach for your phone and dial triple zero. Your neck feels warm, like someone is breathing down it. You turn around to look only to see half your body getting devoured. Your bones are crushed, your organs ruptured and lying on the floor. You have liquefied in areas, while other pieces of you move independently.

But at least you’re alive. You should be grateful.

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

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Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[mint-termsandconditions]

Previously On Apologies 2 Tournament Arc…

Our two competitors find themself in a very sticky situation…

With Noir still feeling guilt over the waddle dees that “died” during the competition

And Rope MF trying to figure out the best rope fact to tell poor Noir…

There’s no signs showing that they could possibly ever be friends.

With the polls turned in Noir’s favor will things change for the better or get even worse?

This Time On Apologies 2…

CW: Some blood

Uh oh! Seems like Noir just made a bad decision! What will he do on the next epi-

.

.

.

wait… It’s not over?

Looks like Noir about made a big mistake that anger Rope MF and no amount of rope facts can fix that problem!

Who will come out on top?

Will Noir finally kill his first waddle dee in this competition?

Or will Rope MF show Noir why no one ever mess with Rope MF’s Rope?

IS THIS FRIENDSHIP SALVAGEABLE??!??

FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON APOLOGIES 2: “IT’S TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE!!!”

✦ SECOND CHANCE, GRAND FINALS ✦

Noir Fontaine VS Rope MF

⭒THERE ARE NO STRINGS ON ME⭒ >>>✧ VOTE HERE ✧<<<

this poll closes 9AM (CST) 28th of October and results will be posted on the 29th. to learn why we are no longer polling on tumblr, read our information post here

[drchucktingle]

sometimes buds ask’ what is it like to be a neurodivergent artist?’ and this is great summary: the charts can look like this, and at same time people will be endlessly posting on how you are ‘not real’ or ‘a bit’. you can hold bestsellers in slot 1 to 4 and still not be 'serious'

i am ultimately ok with this. i love my trot and would not have it any other way, but i think it is worth investigation. when irony poisoning has seeped into everything, how many times does a neurodivergent person have to say ‘actually this is NOT so bad its good. its just good’

when you are autistic, or queer, or both, how much proof do you need to be considered good art? or good business? what do the charts have to look like for me to be a ‘real’ author? or allowed my face mask at a library association conference? or one person not a group of writers?

im coming up on a decade of writing tinglers soon, and people are still talkin about my ‘serious’ works vs my ‘joke books’ and at every turn, as kindly as i can, i shout from the rooftops: THEY ARE ALL SERIOUS BOOKS. THIS IS NOT A BIT.

but its hard when buds have had ‘the correct way to be a writer. the correct way to be an artist. the COOL way to react to a book that is TOO weird’ pounded into their heads by internet culture. 'kill it with fire' they say. 'i need eye bleach' they say without thinking. a line.

heres the thing, the tide IS turning. theres buckaroos jumping in and saying, ‘I want to be a part of this’ and for that they are being rewarded. the publisher who took me seriously is lookin pretty dang good right now with these charts and these sales. i am honored and moved

over time there will be more buds who shed that irony mask. the tide of sincerity is powerful, and the tide of love is inevitable. it is difficult to stand strong in our uniqueness but it also pays off, and I hope to be a shining example. eventually THE TIMELINE BENDS TO YOU

so this is not a thread to complain. i have been trotting long enough that these things do not really bother me. being made fun of and disparaged as ‘not legit art’ while also being objectively successful at the things im made fun of about is kind of the ocean that i swim in.

no. my point of this is to say THANK YOU to those of you who have been trotting by my side over these years. THANK YOU for proving love to me. im so honored by your support, and you should know that YOU have seen beyond the irony poisoned veil that stops many others. YOU get it.

and to those with their own unique perspective on creation: look what you can do. yes there will likely be a lot of resistance to something different, but there is also a LOT of reward. YOU can trot a new path. YOU can prove love is real, not in MY way, but IN YOUR OWN WAY

anyway thank you for reading buckaroos. thank you for your support. LUCKY DAY comes out next summer and it is probably as FAR OUT and existential as the tingleverse has ever gone. you can preorder it here

[afterglowsainz]

i wish i hated you | max verstappen

pairing: actress!reader x max verstappen

summary: max has an open relationship but he starts falling for you, compromising his relationship and your reputation

fc: havana rose liu

warnings: so i know this is not technically how open relationships work however for plot purposes this is how i will portray this one specifically

a/n: this fic shouldn’t have took me as long as it took me to write but whatever, max won in brazil after an incredible race and he deserves all the flowers 🥹

—

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

maxverstappen1 3 🦁🏆

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username let’s goooo max 👊🏽

username simply lovely

gfusername my champion❤️

maxverstappen1 💙

username legend

username hopefully a 4th next year? 👀

username jeez let him enjoy this one first 😭

redbullracing our world champion 🥳

liked by maxverstappen1, kaiagerber and others

yourusername me and my doppelgängers

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username so beautiful

username literally a face people would go to war for

username mesmerized by her actually

username i know that face card is never declining

maxverstappen1 😄

username now why is my man max lurking in here?

liked by yourusername, gfusername and others

maxverstappen1 magical city

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username sir i was not familiar

username i’m so normal about max being in nyc i’m sooo normal about it

username out of all the places in the world new york was the last city i expect max to go to

username well deserved vacations?

username on his own might i add

username and his girlfriend?

username in paris

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername favorite place in the world🍎

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username GORGEOUS

username so real

username wait max liking this and he’s also in new york? ….

username lando liking also ….

username could be just a coincidence 🤷🏽‍♀️

username or could mean nothing

username yep he has a girlfriend too, hope this helps!

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip red bull driver max verstappen was seen with actress y/n y/l/n together in new york during the winter break

tagged maxverstappen1 and yourusername

view all comments

username uhmmmm guys ???

username wait i’m confused, didn’t he had a girlfriend?

username HE DOES

username maybe they broke up?

username omg 😭

username HE’S CHEATING?

username i did not see this one coming

username maybe they’re just friends?

username yeah because thats how you act with your friends

liked by nicholasgalitzine, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername petition to be your favorite bloody cheerleader🦧

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kaiagerber petition accepted!

username i need her biblically

username no way max is liking this 😀

username like have some SHAME

username no but her too 😩

username omw to see this movie for the 372838 time

maxverstappen1 fun 😉

username jesus christ

liked by yourusername, gfusername and others

maxverstappen1 always playing

view all comments

username who is he trying to soft launch here

username wait is that … y/n?

username there is simply no way

username i used to really like her but after this mess … idk

username if cheater why hot

username ughhh i’m angry at him rn but why does he have to look so good

username both his girlfriend and y/n liking this post 😭

username one of them has got to be delusional

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yourusername very vogue 🌸

view all comments

username max in the likes AGAIN

username girl

username she’s very beautiful but the cheating is 😬

username the way she doesn’t even try to hide itttt

username i mean if someone is to blame is max not her

username she knows he’s taken

username babes you can’t post a thirst trap and expect us to forget about the cheating (although it’s lowkey working)

username this shoot atee

maxverstappen1 😍

username nah this is just too much

liked by gfusername, charles_leclerc and others

maxverstappen1 🥰

view all comments

username speechless

username men will really flirt with women on the internet and then post a picture kissing their girlfriend

username guys he is a MAN what did we expect

username alexa play that should be me

username well if his girlfriend forgave him for shamelessly flirting with y/n i can too

username so this is exactly what we are not doing

username that woman is stronger than me fr

gfusername love you💖

maxverstappen1 ❤️

username the way i would commit actual murder

liked by gfusername, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername i’ll always have new york 🥨

view all comments

username baby…

username i’m sorry but i can’t stay mad at her look at her smile

username she was born to serve

username the it girl of our generation

username max’s girlfriend liking this 😭😭

username she gagged me

username fyi she actually ditched that blonde man to date me

username ALLEGEDLY

username his loss 🤷🏽‍♀️

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended. 

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.” 

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.” 

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.” 

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.” 

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.” 

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply. 

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend. 

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it. 

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him. 

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.” 

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said. 

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.” 

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said. 

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut. 

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on. 

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that. 

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly. 

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did. 

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word. 

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 

You needed to finish this essay immediately. 

-

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you. 

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair. 

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.” 

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor. 

“Fiyero?” 

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—” 

“What are you doing here?” you repeated. 

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.” 

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.” 

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?” 

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.” 

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.” 

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.” 

“That sounds about right, yes.” 

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.” 

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?” 

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night. 

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.” 

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked. 

“Five pages, but that—” 

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted. 

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this? 

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity. 

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?” 

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.” 

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?” 

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat. 

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize. 

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes. 

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you. 

“Yes?” 

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.” 

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.” 

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.” 

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.” 

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.” 

“I smile plenty,” you insisted. 

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.” 

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.” 

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?” 

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.” 

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?” 

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.” 

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly. 

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t,” you warned. 

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!” 

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.” 

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?” 

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.” 

That got you paying attention. “What?” 

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!” 

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?” 

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!” 

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.” 

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.” 

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.” 

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.” 

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.” 

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same. 

You were comically doomed. 

-

The next day went… shockingly smooth. 

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated. 

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper. 

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you. 

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about. 

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long. 

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you. 

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said. 

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?” 

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.” 

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.” 

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.” 

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked. 

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted. 

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy. 

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon. 

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three. 

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection. 

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.” 

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said. 

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.” 

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.” 

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.” 

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone. 

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.” 

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.” 

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.” 

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.” 

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence. 

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence. 

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to. 

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing. 

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?” 

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.” 

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.” 

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.” 

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?” 

“Help you up?” 

You nodded. “I can do it myself.” 

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.” 

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said. 

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.” 

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now. 

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused. 

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?” 

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.” 

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero. 

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for? 

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself. 

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use. 

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface. 

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up. 

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something. 

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone. 

And you found yourself laughing. 

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.” 

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder. 

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?” 

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!” 

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.” 

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?” 

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut. 

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat. 

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?” 

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you? 

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered. 

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?” 

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—” 

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight. 

“Of course,” he nodded.  

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore. 

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up. 

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours 

“Until you can change,” he said. 

“...Thank you,” you said. 

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again. 

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting. 

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs. 

You weren’t out of breath from exertion. 

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

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mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!