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#also for them I feel like getting to know others will
luveline · 2 days
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 
“I’m thinking.” 
“Aren’t you always?” 
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 
“You’re truly humble.” 
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Fine.” 
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 
“I’m not traumatised.” 
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 
“What did he say to you?” 
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 
“Did he call you that?” 
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 
“You’re flirting with me.” 
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 
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copperbadge · 3 days
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Let's Talk About Missing Persons
So, I've seen this post circulating last week, and a few others like it in the past year. I think this probably needs to be discussed every few years, and it feels like time.
First, a few caveats: there are reports on the post that Abby has been located and is fine, so no need to reblog and also that's great news, I'm very happy she is safe. Second, I did not especially doubt the veracity of the post, so I'm not impugning the people who made and posted it, but I also declined to reblog it for reasons I'll get into. Third, I know that especially in marginalized communities it can be dangerous to involve the police, and that Missing White Woman Syndrome means it can be difficult to get media coverage. I understand why Abby's community may have chosen to search for her in the way they did.
However, for everyone's safety, I do not link any missing persons post that requires you to contact an individual to report the missing person's whereabouts. If the poster doesn't ask you to contact the police or a known missing persons organization, I won't do it.
This is for the safety of the missing person.
When you see a post with someone's photo, name, and last known whereabouts, and you are asked to contact an individual -- a family member, partner, friend, etc -- what you are being asked to do is report on the whereabouts of one person you don't know to another person you don't know. You don't know that the person you're talking to isn't an abusive partner or parent, a stalker, or a person who means them material harm. One of the Insta accounts in the missing image doesn't appear to exist, and another has no bio and very little captioning on their images. I couldn't verify that Abby even knew these people.
Again: when I looked at the image, it looked sincere to me. I didn't doubt those people were earnestly searching for a friend they were worried about. But also, an abuser doesn't look like an abuser until they do. So I don't make exceptions, because a missing person is missing but a victim outed to their abuser has strong odds of being murdered. The most dangerous time in the life of an abused person is when they are leaving their abuser. Even if a victim simply logs on to say "Hey, I'm fine, these people mean me harm" the abuser has now flushed them out of hiding, and manipulated them into making a public statement.
If you can't verify positively that the person searching does not mean the missing person harm, you should not be circulating a post, full stop. At the very least, if the community doesn't wish for the help of the police (understandable) or can't get the help of an organization or community (frequent), the missing persons poster should advise you to speak to the missing person, not the searcher, and notify them they're being sought, as long as it's safe for both you and them to do so.
This isn't intuitive. We want to help, and search posters like that tug on the heartstrings. We know that when the police get involved even in something this innocuous, it can be perilous for everyone. But in situations where someone is so vulnerable, we have to concern ourselves first with harm reduction, which in this case means not spreading someone's photo with a stranger's contact information on it.
I'm glad Abby was found and is fine and that her searchers were in earnest. But that will not always be the case, and it's important to remember that.
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lexirosewrites · 3 days
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Steddie as rival lawyers who have very different careers.
Steve became a prosecuting attorney after graduating from a top school at his parents’ insistence. It pays well and makes them happy, even if it’s joyless for him to fight for things he doesn’t believe in.
Prosecuting innocent people and fighting for the sake of money without morals.
On the other end of the spectrum is free-spirited Eddie Munson. He’s a defense attorney who shows up in ill-fitting suits that show off his many neck and hand tattoos. Piercings in his ears and hair that’s not tidy or tamed in any way.
He’s a rebel who barely graduated from some lower tier law school with no prestige whatsoever.
Steve naturally assumed their first trial would be a breeze.
But somehow— sheer dumb luck, bad jury selection, or just stupid fate— Eddie wins. And he keeps winning.
Over and over for months.
Steve’s long uninterrupted winning streak becomes a losing one. If Eddie’s in the courtroom too, Steve knows he’s already lost his case.
It’s humbling.
Actually, it’s frankly embarrassing to lose to someone who’s so unprofessional and doesn’t take the law seriously like Steve.
Eddie is respectful of course, but he doesn’t use lawyer-speak unless he’s referencing a precedent of a law. Other than that, he’s overly casual and friendly. Everyone’s favorite lawyer.
He doesn’t lack passion though. No, the guy all but hops up on tables to make speeches about freedom or the American dream during every trial. Utterly ridiculous.
It works though. The juries fall for his bullshit about being down to earth and his clients walk free because of it.
Steve can’t stand it. He can’t stand Eddie and his mockery of his career.
This ultimately culminates in a confrontation in the parking lot one night after a particularly tense trial conclusion.
Once again, Eddie’s guy walked free and Steve knows he’s gonna hear about it from his boss (who also happens to be his dad).
So he might snap a bit when Eddie comes out whistling and looking happier than anything.
“Hey, jackass!”
Eddie looks around like Steve might be referring to some other jackass, despite the otherwise empty parking lot.
He points to himself in question and Steve rolls his eyes in answer.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie finally greets him with a smirk. “Chinese takeout for tonight sound good?”
Steve’s stomach growls at the mere suggestion.
He’d accidentally skipped lunch earlier so he could make changes to his closing argument. Fat load of good that did him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re not off the hook that easily though. What the hell was that brutal cross examination on my witness, you dickhead?”
Eddie smiles extra sweetly and presses a quick but affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead first.
“All’s fair in love, war, and court, baby. You can whine about it later when we’re home if you really want to. I happen to know some very nice pillows that would love to muffle your pretty little moans.”
Asshole.
He blushes, glancing around to make sure they’re still alone before he pulls Eddie into an embrace.
They’ve barely spent any time together this week because of the tense trial and he really missed his boyfriend (not to be mistaken for the jackass who argues with him daily in the courtroom).
As much as they can separate their personal and work lives, it’s hard to not be on the same side of things.
“What if I want you to hear me moan, Eddie? I think it’s only fair since you seem to get everyone else off and I’m the one always suffering for it,” he mumbles snarkily into Eddie’s shirt.
Eddie laughs at the pun. He knew that he would.
“Is that why you’re sulking, babylove? You want me to get you off too?” He nods with a pathetic whine. Not getting to cum for a few days can do that to a person. “I think that can be arranged. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately. You’ve earned a treat.”
Steve melts into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling loved.
“I missed you.”
Another kiss to the forehead, but this time Eddie’s lips linger there as he speaks.
“Missed you too, sweetheart. Not sorry for winning, but I am sorry that you lost.”
Steve knew the defendant was innocent. There wasn’t much of a case to be made anyway. It still stings though.
“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about that and it might be time to quit my dad’s firm. I’d much rather be on the same side as you,” Steve confesses.
Eddie pauses.
“Does that mean…”
Steve looks up smiling and confirms, “Yes. I’ll accept the job offer if it’s still on the table.”
The rival lawyer had offered him a job months ago, before they even got together.
By accepting the position, it means they’d finally be allowed to be a couple publicly and they’d be sitting on the same side of the court for once.
It would also free Steve from his dad’s control and disappointment.
“Stevie, I’d love nothing more than to have you as my partner. In both the court and life. I love you, sweetheart.”
He can’t resist.
“I love you too… jackass.”
Eddie makes good on his promise to get Steve off that night. He even brings out the handcuffs for accuracy sake.
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bitchy-craft · 2 days
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PICK A CARD: How they show their jealousy
Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! I will give you a reading on how your future spouse will show their jealousy. I hope you guys enjoy and find this interesting.
Masterpost > Paid Readings
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~pick a card~
Pile 1:
Your future spouse will show their jealousy mainly through their body language. They don’t want to make it obvious to you (or anyone else for that matter) that they feel jealousy. In their mind it shows a sense of weakness; that it shows to others that they don’t believe they deserve you. They do think this, and that’s why they’re afraid others will pick up on that fact.
Whenever your future spouse will feel a sense of jealousy toward others when it comes to you their whole body will tense up; mainly their shoulders and jaw. Not only this, you will also be able to catch them glaring daggers at the person they feel jealous toward, but when confronted with this they will act like they don’t know what you’re talking about.
Pile 2:
Your future spouse will display their jealousy by getting you to wear their clothing. In their eyes, it will show other people that you ‘belong’ to them, and that you’re in a relationship with them. Your future spouse wants to make it obvious to every person they feel threatened about that they have no chance because they are dating you already.
So whenever you have a friend coming over or you go out with certain friends and your future spouse offers you their clothing, it most likely means that they are jealous of the ones you’re visiting. It works the same way if your future spouse wants you to take their jacket in the middle of a night out even if you aren’t cold at all (if you are cold, they give you their jacket and sweaters because of care, not out of jealousy).
Pile 3:
Your future spouse displays their jealous on one of the most obvious ways, and the most obvious ways out of this post. Your future spouse isn’t afraid or embarrassed to show that they are jealous toward the people around you; they even see it as a positive trait, believing that is shows how much they love and care for you.
Whenever they are jealous they won’t only side eye the people they feel the jealousy toward, they will also use a physical approach to show their standing with you compared to the said jealousy-causer. This can go from walking up to you and holding your waist, to putting their arm over your shoulder and hugging you close, to kissing you right in front of them and glaring at them as you two are kissing.
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goldustwomun · 3 days
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bags (s.h.)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?
warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!
wc: 2.2k+
note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)
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Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags
You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.
Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.
You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.
It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.
And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.
“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.
Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.
“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.
So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.
He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.
He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.
The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.
And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.
“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.
“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.
“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"
His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”
“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”
“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.
“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.
“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”
And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”
He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”
You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.
“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—
“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.
“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.
“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.
His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”
“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.
“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  
“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.
“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.
“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”
He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.
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as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3
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inupibaldspot · 21 hours
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Back off, kid.
Pairing: gojo satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
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“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.
While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.
“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.
When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.
“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.
Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.
You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.
Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”
“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”
The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.
You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”
It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.
“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.
“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”
Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”
“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”
Fushiguro knows this scene too well.
Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.
He sighs. “I’m leaving.”
You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.
Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.
“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.
“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.
“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.
“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“
“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”
Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.
Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”
“Sorry”
Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”
“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.
Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
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5sospenguinqueen · 3 days
Text
Post Space Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader
Summary: Struggling with the new frame of her relationship, Y/N decides a visit to her sister is in order. Charles realises that not having you close is even worse than you beating him.
Warnings: Swearing. Female reader. Verstappen! Reader.
I know you guys wanted angst but the doe eyes got to me.
Part 1 || Part 2 ||
Main Masterlist
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others
YourUserName a lovely visit with my favourite sibling @ victoriaverstappen, and an even lovelier surprise (p.s. Max already knew so no, I'm not spoiling it for him)
5,657 comments
User 1 charles in the likes but not in the comments
maxverstappen1 stop trying to get our nephews to like you more than me
→ YourUserName they already do (even the unborn one)
maxverstappen1 also, how am i not the favourite sibling. i listen to all your boy troubles
→ User 2 boy troubles!!!
→ User 3 all??? how many boys are there 😒
landonorris can't believe you had lunch without me
→ georgerussell63 really don't help yourself, mate
lance_stroll not the burger a week before a race
→ YourUserName don't tell my trainer
→ lance_stroll too late
mclaren future papaya racer
→ maxverstappen1 no.
User 4 so, are you and charles still together? the world is dying to know if he was caught cheating or not
→ User 5 apparently they're still together but taking time apart
→ User 6 source: trust me bro
victoriaverstappen we loved seeing you but he keeps asking for uncy sha so maybe bring a visitor next time?? 🤍
liked by charles_leclerc
→ YourUserName can't believe i'm not enough :( but at least i'm introducing him to disappointment early on
→ User 7 not her sister spilling the tea
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User 8 so, does this mean LeStappen are back in the same country?
User 9 how's he going to keep his distance when they're on the same track
User 10 i feel tension brewing
User 11 anyone see arthur's latest tweet?
→ User 9 no why?
→ User 11 he posted that pic of charles and that woman but from another angle. arthur was with them that day and it looks like arthur's holding the woman's hand?
→ User 8 so charles wasn't on a date with that woman?!?! chay/n shippers rise!
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and others
YourUserName 'cause i'm back in the saddle again tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo
6,456 comments
danielricciardo alternate caption was 'me and pookies' but lando and i talked her down from that
→ landonorris you're just jealous that i'm pookie #1
landonorris 🔥🔥
redbullracing we still think you'd look better in navy
→ mclaren back, back, i say 🤺
→ scuderiaferrari please, we all know red is her colour
liked by charles_leclerc
→ User 12 we see you charles
landonorris @ redbullracing stop trying to steal my teammate
→ arthur_leclerc stop trying to steal my brother's girlfriend
(comment deleted)
→ User 13 we saw that, arthur
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skysportsf1 just posted
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liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
skysportsf1 read the latest interview from the Verstappen twins, and how racing helped strengthen their bond
tagged: YourUserName, maxverstappen1
7,905 comments
f1 our favourite twins
YourUserName wow, we look good. thanks for having us, it was so nice to be able to hype each other up and get paid for it
maxverstappen1 can't believe they left out the part where i said i only like you because i beat you
→ YourUserName because you told them not to? stop trying to make out like you hate me so people think you're tough. everyone saw you cry when i won
danielricciardo alternate caption was 'join us as we chat with racer, y/n verstappen and her lesser-known brother, max'
→ YourUserName he threatened to sue if they used that title
→ maxverstappen1 i hate you both
lance_stroll only read for y/n
alex_albon love how they tried to make max sound good at padel
georgerussell63 does anyone know who either of these people are? it's amazing who they class as celebrities these days
User 13 living for the grid picking on them (max)
mclaren going to need these pics blown up and hung in my living room
→ charles_leclerc agreed
→ redbullracing charles is all of us
User 14 not charles trying to hide in the comments
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Part 4 will be the final part. Thank you for coming on the journey of self-indulgent fics x
Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @thecubanator2 @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @kqliie @sweate-r-weathe-r @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @youre-on-your-ownkid @xyzstar
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bountydroid · 2 days
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Jealousy
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Request: Can I please request a Cooper x Fem reader comfort angst romance where the sweet reader is infatuated with Cooper (she has a thing for older men)The sweet reader is always doing unnecessary favors for him, like secretly giving him discounts on rad away and supplies, taking care of dog meat, and getting him information on bounties. Until he brings along Lucy, misunderstanding the whole situation, the reader’s heart breaks thinking the worst and slowly stops trying and acting cold and distant, making Cooper notice that the only tolerable person he has ever known in this god forsaken world is ignoring him. (Feel free to add or change anything just pls feed into my delusions😭 I just want some hardcore romance with our cowboy) Also can u pls add that the reader also has a cute southern accent?
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader
Description: As a wandering trader, you've made a lot of strange friends. Among them, Ghouls, but there is one in particular that is your favorite.
Notes: I hope I did this justice for you anon!
The Wasteland was brutal, and even you knew it was a bad idea to trek it alone, but you had a job to do. However, as you found yourself in front of your old friend Roger's home you felt like the Wastelands weren't all that bad.
"My name.. is Roger." You heard him repeating between snarls.
You stopped in your tracks outside the door. "He's turning," You thought to yourself as you rummaged through your pack looking for any vials of Radaway. You were all out. Sighing, you put your hand on your holster before slowly making your way inside to check on your friend.
"Rog?" You ask as you round the corner to find him sitting in the dirt.
"Oh hey," he said relieved. "My savior. Do you have any Radaway?"
"I don't have any, Rog." You replied sadly.
"Oh." He whispered. "You should probably get out of here then. It's not safe for little girls like you to be in the Wastelands alone." He said sadly, leaving out the bit you both knew, you weren't safe with HIM alone. 
Before you could respond, you heard quiet footsteps down the corridor. "Who else is here?" You thought to yourself as your hand went back to your holster. Peaking your head around the corner you find none other than Cooper Howard and... a vaultie? You did very little to hide the confusion on your face as you looked between the two.
"Hey, you." You said to Cooper. "What are you doing here?"
"Could ask you the same thing, sweetheart." He responds, pushing the vaultie through the doorway and making his way to Roger.
"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.
"Hey. Hey." Rogers laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"
"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.
You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around. 
"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.
"How you feeling?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.
"Oh.. you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got a smoothie of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie.
You also turn to look at the vaultie, a look of displeasure on your face. "A smoothie of your own." Repeating over and over in your head. You wanted to be his smoothie. You and Cooper never really started a relationship, but you thought you were heading in that direction. You gave him a generous discount on Radaway since you developed a little crush on him, and he would always spend more time than necessary with you whenever you crossed paths. He was always fussing after you and was always telling you how you were too reckless. In his eyes, everything was too dangerous for you. He knew how you felt about him, and you THOUGHT you knew how he felt about you, but this vaultie threw a wrench in everything. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't like me." You thought to yourself while eyeing her up. You were so lost in thought that you could barely hear Roger snarling next to you. 
"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.
"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Y/n is all out."
Cooper's eyes met yours as you nodded your head sadly.
"Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.
"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking back toward his friend.
"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and y/n and your smooth-faced friend, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."
You flinch as you hear Roger snarl again, each time he was getting louder and louder. You look down at your feet with tears in your eyes.
"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said looking between you and Cooper, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started Wastelanding?"
"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.
"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.
"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"
"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.
"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.
Roger laughed, a real laugh. He was happy. "Apple Pie is not nearly as sweet as young Y/n's southern accent though." He says smiling up at you. "You know, my mom used to -"
Before you knew what happened, Roger's brains were all over the wall. You looked up at Cooper with tears in your eyes. You knew it had to be done. You knew it was mercy, but it still hurt. 
"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked. "He was sick."
"He wasn't gonna get better." You responded dryly.
"You usually don't go all the way out here sweetheart, not on your own. What are you up to?" Cooper asks you as he picks up Roger's body and places it in a position where he easily access what he needs.
You don't respond. Between the jealousy brewing in your stomach at the vaultie next to you and the sadness about Roger, you couldn't find the words you wanted to say. 
"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."
Before he could respond you quickly made your way out of the building for some fresh air. You could hear their voices inside, but you decided to drown them out by humming to yourself. You didn't need to see him take apart Roger, and you definitely couldn't stand the sound of her voice any longer. You knew you should get walking, you were low on supplies and they would be leaving the building soon. You didn't want to face them again, but it felt like there were bricks in your boots. As exhaustion hit you, you sat down in the sand and closed your eyes, losing track of time.
"Hey," You hear Cooper say as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "You good, sweetheart?"
'Fine." You mumbled out. "You and your smoothie should get going." The venom in your voice was loud and clear, but you didn't care.
"That's what got ya panties in a bunch?" Cooper laughed. 
You glared up at him in response. "Don't laugh at me, Cooper."
"I am taking her to SuperDuperMart. Not keepin’ her as a pet.” Cooper smiles as he offers you his hand. 
"Oh," You responded quietly, feeling stupid.
"What is SuperDuperMart?" You heard the vaultie ask, but the two of you completely ignored her.
"No one could ever replace you, sweetheart," Cooper says as he cups your face. 
You couldn't help the smile that graced your face at his words, and the blush that creeped up your neck.
He smiled when he noticed the way your eyes flickered towards his lips. 
"When I get my hands on some Radaway, I'll show you just how much you mean to me." You whispered.
"Lookin' forward to it." He whispered back.
The two of you were so caught up in each other that you didn't even notice the look of pure disgust on the vaultie's face as she watched your interaction. Some people may never understand why you like Cooper so much, but honestly? You couldn't give a damn.
Tag list: @sitkafay
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mssainz · 1 day
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PART 4 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Angsty
AN: A little backstory about YN , a flashback from five years ago. Thank you guys. I appreciate all your comments. Let me know your reaction and if you wanna be added to the tag list. Love y'all!
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It's done. You are now divorced. You are no longer Mrs. Sainz. You are sitting on the bed feeling empty, looking at the bedroom floor.
So what now?
You grabbed your phone on your side table and dialed your Mom's number. It took a few rings before your Mom picked it up.
“Mom, I'm going home.” Your mom didn’t say anything and hope you have a safe flight.
You didn’t wait for a second and immediately grabbed your luggage. You gently fold all your clothes and stuff them into your bag. You then went to the bathroom to grab your skin care products and other toiletries. After making sure that all your things are complete, you zipped and sealed your luggages. You saw the gold commitment in your ring finger and a shiny diamond one you got when you said yes.
“You two are way more expensive than filing a divorce,” You whispered and scoffed at yourself. You removed your necklace, then your rings, and made them as a pedant.
“Maybe, I can take you to an auction. Engagement and wedding ring from Carlos Sainz.” You let out a painful laugh before putting the necklace in your bag. Your finger feels strange without them, after wearing them for almost three years.
You put on the most casual outfit you can grab, a black trousers, white shirt, and a black cap. You also put on a face mask to hide your face. You don’t want any paparazzi following you at the airport. You just want to leave in peace and make a simple statement of your break up. Being questioned about what happened and explaining everything is the least thing that you wanna do. It feels like squeezing lime on your opened cut.
You arrived at the airport earlier than your scheduled flight. Gladly, there are only a few people in the vicinity. You sat down in the waiting area and unlocked your phone. You deleted Carlos' phone number and even blocked him in all of your social media accounts. Painful for you but you also deleted any contacts of his family, his father, mother, and even his siblings. You also unfollowed anything related to Formula 1. But you didn’t unfollow some of the drivers that you are close with.
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After almost a day flight, you finally arrived. It feels great to be back in your home country. Your mom fetched you at the airport. She initiated some small talks on your way home but didn’t dare to mention anything about your divorce. She wants you, yourself to open up about it if you are comfortable to talk about the whole situation.
You proceed to your old room after getting out of the car. You and your mom brought your luggages in your room and began unpacking them. You opened your closet and saw your white coat hanging. It has your name with MD on it. “Emergency Medicine,” you whispered as you read what's on your coat. Warm tears started falling from your eyes.
“What did I do wrong, Mom? I gave up my career for him. I let this go to be with him. I chose another path of my life and tried to settle down, followed him to the other side of the world. How could he do this to me?” Your mom looked at you and stopped unpacking your bags. She is disheartened, staring at you sitting on the floor, hugging your knees. It is her first time seeing you cry and break down after everything that happened. She is actually worried about you as you didn’t show any tears when Carlos filed the divorcement papers, when you found out about your baby, and after everything. It’s like your emotions shut down. You were just filled with mixed feelings and couldn’t even process it as everything happened so fast.
She walks towards you and sits beside you. She didn't say anything, she knows that words are not what you need right now. You need ears, who can listen to you.
“I hate myself, Mom. I let myself be fooled by a man and I'm now fucking pregnant with his child. He doesn't even know, I'm having his own blood and genes. And I don't even know where to start with my life again. I have nothing left, Mom. I am such a mess,”
She can feel how broken you are. She hates seeing you cry and hate yourself for something you are not the one to blame.
“I sold all my properties in Madrid, even the coffee shop Mom. I can't go back there. I can't be in his hometown. I can't even bear the thought of breathing the same air he breathes. I can't Mom, I don't wanna.” Your voice is broken and so you are. Your words are nearly inaudible and your face is filled with glistening tears which can't seem to stop pouring. Your sorrow left you having difficulty catching your breath.
“He knows how cheating and lying was my last straw. He always knew that. He knows about Dad, what he did and how he left us, Mom. Why did he have to repeat the same history as he did? Why do I have to go through this again? Why do I keep catching men in my life kissing another woman? How can they put me in this position?” You are on the verge of hyperventilating from crying. Hence, your mom gently held your arms and made you face her eyes.
“Baby, look at me. Breathe, my love,” She started exhaling and inhaling with you to calm your nerves down and control the pace of your breathing.
“Mom, I don't know what to do. What should I do?” You asked her while she was wiping the tears on your cheeks.
“You don't have to do anything, my love. You don't need to know what you should do at the very moment. I just want you to take care of yourself. Just have a meal, take a shower, and rest. Mommy got you, okay? I always do.”
She pulled you into her arms to give you a safe space to cry. Her words gave you an inner peace, a reminder to take it slow. You don't need to know what the future holds for now.
“And stop saying you have nothing left. You have me, honey. You have this,” your mom said before putting her warm hand on your belly.
I have Cael. When I thought I had nothing left, I had him. He is the only one I can call my own.
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YN'S Private Instagram Post
"my sunshine Sebastian Cael Sainz"
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TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @bearryyy @mahii7 @mxdi0 @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @madkohi @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @iawfwm @f1fanatic55 @taniamndez @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @ahahvalerie @a-beaverhausen @glow-ish @ccallistata
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AN: Should YN put the necklace in an auction? Just kidding. Please unhide your accounts guys, I can't tag you if its hidden huhu. Thank youuuu!
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jockbroski34 · 1 day
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The Bro Cap
Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.
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I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.
Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.
“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.
The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.
“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.
“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.
“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”
“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.
Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?
And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.
After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.
“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.
The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.
Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.
Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.
Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?
Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.
Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude
I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.
“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.
Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.
I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.
I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.
Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.
Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.
We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.
I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.
“Later, Moore.”
Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.
In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.
I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.
“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.
“Practice?”
“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”
“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”
“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.
As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.
My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.
No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.
Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.
Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?
I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.
“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.
“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.
“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…
“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”
“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.
“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?
“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”
As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.
“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.
“What hat?”
“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.
From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.
Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.
“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”
“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.
“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.
What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.
At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
Text
bound and bruised
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words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only, NONCON!!!!, r*pe, male receiving oral, choking, p in v sex, unwilling sex, kidnapping, blacking out, loss of virginity, dead dove do not eat (PLEASE heed the warnings)
“stop fucking screaming.” rafe grunts out as you look up at him with tear stained cheeks.
“my knees!” you sob out. only moments ago rafe had shoved you down, bruising and scraping your knees against the rough flooring. you're sure they're going to be bruised by tomorrow.
“i don't care, bitch.” rafe says, gently slapping you on the cheek, more of a pat to get your attention back on him.
“you're being so mean.” you try to stand up, but rafes rough hand on your shoulder pushes you back down.
“stop trying to get away. you know you can't outrun me so you might as well just do as i say.”
“and what is it you want me to do?” you cross your arms as you glare up at rafe.
“easy.” he huffs out. “you're going to suck my dick.”
“your- your what?” you squeal, eyes widening when rafe reaches to his shorts, swiftly undoing the zipper and button, pulling the two sides of the flap open, but not pushing them down his hips yet.
“you heard me.” rafe smirks down at you, at the look on your face, one of confusion, verging on terror. “now im gonna take my dick out. and you're going to lick it.”
you try one more time to stand up, to flee and get away, but rafe is too strong, easily keeping you on your knees with one hand while the other frees himself from the confines of his clothes, kicking his shorts off before the underwear are also tugged down.
your eyes widen when you come face to face with rafes cock, hard and standing away from his body, much bigger than you could have imagined, but it fits his tall frame.
“i don't want to do this, rafe.” you whine. you've never sucked dick before, and you certainly don't want your first time to be with a guy you barely talk to.
“too bad. now lick it, it's for your own good.”
“what does that mean?” you question, but rafe doesn't respond, moving his hand to grip the hair at the back of your head as he pushes you forward.
your nose bumps his cock as you try to swivel your head out of the way, replaying rafes words in your head. 
you stick your tongue out, taking a cautious lick against his length. you make a face, spitting onto the ground. “this is gross, rafe!”
“you have about five seconds to start licking before i just shove my whole cock down your throat. go.”
you know rafes threat isn't an idle one, so you push away the oddly salty taste as you begin to lick, focusing just on the mid shaft, ignoring the pulsing head of his cock for as long as you can.
“put it in your mouth, come on. you gotta get it real wet.” rafe encourages you.
“for what?”
“suck me first and then you'll find out.” rafe says, guiding your head to the head of his cock.
you part your lips, placing them around the head of his cock, feeling the weight against your tongue as you suck slightly, not sure what you're supposed to be doing.
“shit- that's good. just be careful for your teeth. if you bite me, you'll regret it.”
you have no plans of biting rafe as your tongue flicks over his slit, finding the taste slightly more bearable now that you've gotten used to it.
“that's it, good girl.” rafe says, even though the only reason you take more of his cock in your mouth is his hand pushing your head down.
“cover it in spit baby, you'll be grateful when i fuck you.”
your eyes widen and you try to pull off. no way you're letting rafe fuck you and losing your virginity like this.
“oh, no you don't.” rafe warns, pushing his hips forward to bury his cock down your throat as you gag aggressively around him, more tears pooling down your cheeks.
rafe pulls you off after a moment as you sputter, coughing aggressively to get the tickle out of your throat.
“get up. im gonna fuck you now.”
“no!” you squeal. you really should know better by now. should just lay back and let rafe do whatever he wishes, but you still fight him and try to get away.
rafe tugs you up by your hair, your scalp burning as he pushes you against the daybed, warm from the sun shining down on it, comfortable and soft in sharp contrast to how rafe is treating you.
“now let's see if you got my dick wet enough for this not to hurt.” rafe makes quick and easy work of your clothing, flipping the bottom of your dress up and literally tearing away your underwear as you cry out, skin burning from the fabric.
“it'll be better for you if you relax.” rafe says, spreading your legs open for him, looking down at both your holes as your ass spreads for him, but even he isn't going to take it that far as his cock presses against your pussy.
you're not wet in the slightest, and despite the spit, it still burns as rafe pushes inside as you cry out, gripping onto the daybed, grabbing a pillow and tossing it back at rafe, who easily swats it away.
“don't piss me off or i wont give you any time to adjust.” he warns.
you manage to relax slightly, enough for rafe to push all the way inside as he sits for a moment with his cock buried in your cunt, the virginity you were planning on losing on your wedding night now ripped away from you.
“shit, you're fucking tight.” rafe moans. “next time i fuck you ill get you wet too. i bet if i lick your pussy you'll get soaked for me.”,
“you're not gonna fuck me again.” you growl out.
“i will. i own you now. your pussy is mine, baby.” rafe makes his point by pulling out then pushing his cock in with a hard, punishing thrust.
your defiant words are lost on your tongue as he moves, thrusting into you with a tight hold on your hips, keeping your ass in the air.
rafes moans and growls are loud and unafraid of the neighbors hearing, like him fucking a girl on his back patio is a regular enough occurance for them to not look.
you try to keep breathing, try to keep your cunt relaxed as his cock pushes in and out, your wetness slowly increasing from the stimulation.
“you like this, huh?” rafe smirks, hands moving to grip your ass, leaving red marks from his fingers as he squeezes at your plump flesh.
“it-it feels good.” you admit with shame, red flaring over your cheeks. no point in lying when rafe can literally feel the way your body is responding.
“and i haven't even touched your clit yet.” rafe chuckles. “you'll gush, baby.”
despite his words, rafe makes no movement for your clit. right now isn't about your pleasure as he pulls your body back onto his cock to meet his already hard thrusts.
“don't… don't cum inside of me. please.” you plead out, chest rubbing against the daybed as he moves you, nipples hard even through the multiple layers of fabric and padded bra.
“where should i cum then?”
“anywhere. my ass, my mouth-”
“ill go for mouth. but get on birth control because im gonna flood your pussy next time.” rafe continues thrusting until you feel his cock swell inside of you.
he pulls out suddenly, flipping you over onto your back. you only have a second to take a quick breath before rafe is kneeling over you, shoving his cock between your lips as his hand strokes his base.
the second your lips close around his head, he's cumming, filling your mouth with the salty taste as you swallow it down, somehow seeming more pleasing than trying to spit it all out.
“that's a good girl.” rafe pats your cheek before turning to splay out next to you on the day bed as your chest heaves, pussy feeling stretched and sensitive.
“you wanna cum?” rafe asks. “i can rub your clit.”
“i don't want you to touch me ever again.” you say, adrenaline wearing off as tears form in your eyes once again.
“i wish you wouldn't say that type of thing, baby.” rafe frowns, reaching over to wrap his strong hand around your neck. your body flails as you try to hold onto the last bit of oxygen, but ultimately you give out, vision going black.
you wake up much later. you're not sure how long, but it's been multiple hours, your throat is dry from lack of water and rafe choking you until you blacked out.
“see what happens if you misbehave?” rafe asks as your head snaps to look at him, not even realizing he was in the room.
you look down at your wrist, handcuff wrapped around it, connected to a chain, which is secured to the very bed you're sitting on.
“now.” rafe smiles wickedly, moving to the edge of the bed. “about touching your clit…”
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Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU
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A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!
Dehya
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You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites 
Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob
They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.
Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters
It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe
At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her
You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-
Everything is still
Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused
“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”
Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes
And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is
(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)
During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
And after choking on her water, she agrees to it
Congratulations! You have a wife!
The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable
Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons
It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door
(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)
They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away
“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him
“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.
And then everything clicks
“Wait, I’m a god?” 
The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours
Arlecchino
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When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine
You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!
It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person. 
It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-
Wait… you can still breathe!
You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.
You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)
It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin
But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either
And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet
He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact
Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close
Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract
It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)
And after that it only takes a week before he slips up
He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive
It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.
“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.
A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”
After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.
You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore
And then you make eye contact
Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.
At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem
You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it
Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple
After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests
“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”
“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.” 
The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance
Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?
You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.
Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.
Also Freminet is the flower girl
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lyvhie · 1 day
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a different kind of exercise | ljn
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personal trainer!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: he just wanted to give you a private lesson.
a/n: sorry, that didn't go well as i wanted, but i didn't have anything planned for his bday and this ended up coming out 😭 i didn't like that one, but happy bday to jeno!
cw: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, petnames (baby/pretty)
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jeno was not planning on this. yet he was glad it happened.
when he accepted to be your personal trainer, he didn't think much about it. you seemed like a genuine newbie in the gym, seeking legitimate help. unlike other people, you hadn't chosen him just because of his good looks, he could see that you actually wanted to learn.
he wasn't expecting much to come from your time together aside from some casual conversation during workouts and the occasional advice about exercising, but he found himself growing more interested in you than his purpose of teaching.
he didn't know why exactly, but he felt an attraction to you that he couldn't explain. sometimes he would even find himself acting like a pervert. and he knew that was wrong, but it was all somehow your fault.
he would often blame you for wearing those tight leggings that gripped onto your body like a second skin. he knew it wasn't fair to blame you for their existence, but he also couldn't help but be distracted by their form-fittedness.
but he was glad you wore them. he loved it when you folded forward, giving him a great view of your ass. he would make up some excuse about you doing it wrong just to get closer and hold your waist. he would press you against him and lean over you, telling you "how it should be done," while enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his. he enjoyed taking his time to "help you do it right" so that he could spend more time up close with your ass rubbing against his cock.
or when he is "helping you out" by adjusting your position and form while doing an exercise. he knew that wasn't necessary, but he used the excuse of "straightening you up" to sneak his hands around you. he would grab a handful of your breasts, pretending to position you properly to do the exercise but actually taking the chance to feel you up.
jeno would often find excuses to get close to you, brushing up against you or putting his hands on your body more often than necessary, always trying to touch you in subtle ways that he hoped you wouldn't notice.
and that was the best—or worst—part of it all. you were completely clueless about his actions, genuinely thinking it was just his way of teaching. honestly, it wasn't bothering you at all. in fact, you even secretly enjoyed it when he was "just teaching you" and getting a bit too close for comfort by holding you up and touching your body.
but still, for jeno, this was pure agony too. all he craved was to fuck you senseless until you were practically limping, but he couldn't just spit it out. ever since your sessions began, he caught himself fucking his fist at night thinking about you, he'd daydream about pounding into you, making you yell his name 'til you were hoarse.
gosh, he needed you so bad.
and so he made it.
it was easier than he thought. all he had to do was come with an excuse to get you to his house. saying he needed to "go over some information" about your exercises and "get more in-depth" with your routine, he asked you to come over to his place to "work through the details" of your activities.
he can't really remember how things escalated from telling you to make yourself comfortable to him pressing you up against the bed mattress with your legs around his waist while you cry out his name because of how good it feels to have his cock stretching your tight pussy.
“you feel so—god, so f-fucking good,” jeno’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing second. your hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that your knuckles were white, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“y-you're so tight, baby,” he looked down to see where your bodies connected, watching as his length disappeared into your welcoming pussy.
"fuck, y/n... you take me so well,” he breathes heavily, trying to maintain control as you clench around him. "i could stay here forever,” his cock slamming into you with such force that you could feel it in your bones.
the sensation of him filling you up completely is almost too much to bear, but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world right now.
jeno feels your body tensing up and your warm walls squeezing him again, making him groan. “are you close, pretty?” the only answer for his question were your loud moan and it was enough for him.
you gasp when he suddenly changes your position, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and driving himself even deeper inside of you. the new angle hits all the right spots, and you feel yourself being stretched to the limit, even more sensitive as his hand slip down to rub your clit.
you starts to feel an orgasm building inside of you, which made you let a whine escape your lips. you didn't want this moment to end, but you know it's going to be explosive when it finally does. you focus on the sensation of him filling you up, on the sound of your bodies slapping together, and on the scent of sex in the air. it's a heady combination that sends you over the edge, you body shuddering and convulsing beneath his as you milk his cock.
jeno himself couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer, the way your face contorts in pure bliss as you come undone beneath him sends him over the edge. feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, his thrusts became a little more messy, but still at the same pace. it felt so good he almost forgot to pull out, withdrawing just in time to cum on your thigh, his hot load sticking to your skin.
he falls onto the bed next to you, the only sound now is your heavy breathing as you both try to compose yourself. you continue to silently stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before turning your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.
“so…” you begin. “same time next week?”
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Hello! I was wondering if I could maybe as for Malleus, Azul, Idia, Vil, and maybe Leona with an S/o who tests the Orange peel theory on them?
The orange peel theory being the theory in which someone requests their significant other to peel an orange for them. If they say yes, then it means they are willing to do small tasks for their lover. If they say no, it may suggest they are less willing to offer support.
If you can’t then that’s good I just wanted to ask.
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul sighed, looking at the orange in your hand and then back to you with raised eyebrows. Were you serious? You couldn’t peel your own orange? He let out another sigh, mumbling that you were truly hopeless without him before taking the orange from your hands. He removed his gloves (as cleaning them was more of a hassle than cleaning his bare hands) and expertly peeled away the skin, giving a beautiful presentation on your plate before sliding it back over to you. He quickly went back to his work but you did note that he completely stopped what he was doing in the middle of it to attend to your silly request.
Idia Shroud:
In the middle of a raid?! These relationship QTE’s continued to get harder the longer you were together, but he feared the consequences of failing one. He quickly typed in the chat to his teammates before setting his character on auto, fumbling with the orange and trying to peel it as quickly as he could while making sure he didn’t go down in flames in the virtual world. He handed it back to you wordlessly when he was done as he was locked back in again, letting out an agonized cry when he realized he forgot to wipe his hands so now his keyboard and mouse were hopelessly sticky.
Leona Kingscholar:
There’s something that Leona picked up in your tone that indicated this was a test of some sort, and while not knowing exactly what you were up to, he wasn’t about to fail. He did complain that you married into royalty and therefore had access to some of the perks, including servants who’d be more than happy to peel an orange for you. He was peeling it for you as he complained at least, and he retracted the orange before you could grab it and asked if he’d get a proper reward for listening so closely.  
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus it not used to being asked to do such domestic tasks. It seemed natural that everyone around him just attended to his needs and, by extension, your needs as well. Seeing as you were asking him directly to do something for you he couldn’t help but be excited about the prospect, feeling a sense of pride that you’d trust in him even if it was a simple task. He peeled the orange with a smile on his face, peeling off a piece of the actual fruit and holding it up as he asked if you’d like him to feed you as well.
Vil Schoenheit:
Vil was curious about what you were doing that was so important you couldn’t peel your own orange, weighing the options of asking and deciding it’s easier to just acquiesce. You didn’t ask him for things often while you often wordlessly retrieved things for him during his intricate skincare routines, so he didn’t see the harm in repaying your kindness. He’s also happy that you’re eating something healthy, although he doesn’t know the exact benefits oranges might have on your skin—he’ll have to look it up once he’s done his careful work, handing over the most beautifully peeled orange you’d ever seen in your life.
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afterglowkatie · 17 hours
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secret admirer | l.w.
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leah williamson x reader | 1.4k | leah had been on the receiving end of your anonymous letters not having the courage to talk to her until you get caught out
ˏˋ°•*⁀arsenal/lioness!reader - a little leah fic bc mainly leah and alexia have been living rent free in my head all day today :') but yeah! also i work 10 hour days the rest of the week so a little something until i can not be too tired to write again!
‘Ooh, Leah’s got a secret admirer,’ Keira sang out, teasing Leah while they crowded around the bouquet of flowers and note that was left sitting in Leah’s cubby. Keira took the note from Leah’s hand reading it out loud, if any one was around they’d be able to listen in to the contents.
For the last few months Leah had been finding little notes of admiration left around in places that only she would be able to find. The notes started appearing around in places when she was anywhere with arsenal. At training, their home games and also their away games. At first she thought it might’ve been a supporter anonymously giving her support and admiration from afar. It could’ve looked like that especially with some of the shorter notes being pretty generic, ‘your laugh is my favourite sound’ and ‘your smile is pretty just like you’. 
Until the longer notes made their appearance, taking the place of the shorter notes. After a month of leaving the shorter notes around for Leah to find, she hadn’t figured out it was you which made you decide to be more brave. Well as brave as you could be hiding behind anonymous letters and gifts. Your letters got longer and more personal and in depth which made Leah clue in that it wasn’t a fan and the likelihood it was some crazed stalker was quite low. 
With how personal some of the things were and that she was still receiving flowers and notes even while on camp with England, Leah started considering that it was one of her teammates who Keira had deemed her secret admirer. Even if she was unsure of who was sending and writing her these notes, Leah still thought some of them were beautifully written and even gave her the comfort she needed especially after tough games.
‘I really have no idea who is leaving these for me. Could it be someone here?’ Leah voiced the thought she had been having for a little while now, that it was one of her teammates. They both pondered the thought, realising that it was probably the only reasonable explanation on how these letters always seemed to reach Leah no matter where she was.
‘Our next mission, finding out who your secret admirer is,’ Keira laughed, slightly wiggling her eyebrows, teasing Leah even more.
‘Our next mission is training,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head and gently pushing at her best friend.
Already out on the pitch you watched as the pair walked out joining the rest of the team before training started. Ever since you met Leah you had been infatuated with her. The way she was kind and helpful to you when you started at arsenal and when you got your first call up for the lionesses, it instantly drew you in. The only problem was that you had no idea how to properly talk to her. It wasn’t unknown that Leah can be intimidating, she definitely intimidated you. Whenever you could be around her within a group setting you were always there, even from slightly afar your feelings towards Leah continued to grow. 
It frustrated you how you didn’t even know how to befriend Leah, only being able to be around her whenever other girls from either team were there. At first you weren’t even going to leave her the letters, only writing them for yourself as a way to get your feelings out. Feeling like you would implode from how greatly you were feeling for Leah, luckily writing it out had helped you. Unlucky for you that one of the letters had slipped out and fallen in a place where Leah would find it. While you never wrote your name on any, all the letters were addressed to Leah so there was no mistaking that it was for her when she eventually found it. 
When you saw Leah holding up the coloured paper you knew you had used to write out your feelings, your heart started to race. Immediately trying to think of a way you could get far away from Leah just in case. But the small smile that ghosted her lips melted your heart a little. So you continued to leave more hoping that same smile would always make its appearance, wanting nothing more than to make sure Leah was happy. In some way you could still be in her life.
Nights before matches weren’t great for you, always ending up struggling to sleep from the build up of nerves. Eventually you’d be able to push the nerves away enough to be able to sleep but tonight proved to be the hardest you’ve faced since your first national camp. Finding yourself scribbling out a little note for Leah as a way to distract you from your nerves at the match the next day. 
Not wanting to keep the letter on you knowing it would be more risky with everyone on top of each other in the hotel and thinking everyone would be asleep by now you decided to deliver the letter. Sneaking out of your room and down the hallway towards the room you knew Leah was staying in, you made sure to be quiet enough so no one would wake up and find you out in the hallway at this time knowing you couldn’t make up a lie to save your life.
Though you didn’t account for Leah to still be awake having gotten lost in all different kinds of puzzle games on her phone. You shuffled around a little outside the door to her room contemplating whether you should actually slide the letter underneath the door or throw it out and make your way back to your own room. 
Leah had heard some noises outside the door in the hallway and had gotten up to check it out, to see if it was any of her teammates needing help. She was about to open the door when she saw the familiar coloured paper and knew it was another letter. You were still standing outside the door lost in your thoughts, wishing you had more courage to actually talk to Leah, when you suddenly came face-to-face with the girl that clouded your thoughts. Leah’s face matching the same surprise and shock as your own.
‘You were the one who wrote me all these letters?’ Leah was the first on to break the silence between the two of you, quickly stepping out into the hallway beside you and quietly shutting the door, ‘Why didn’t you just come talk to me?’ 
Leah’s eyebrows furrowed a little. While she had caught your interest, little did you know that you had caught Leah’s interest. She found the way you could instantly light up the room and change a sullen atmosphere into a lighter more joyful one quite endearing. Always wanting to get to know you and talk to you more but she could never seem to get you alone, always with a group of people whenever the two of you were around each other. Leah always watched you from afar, she’d become quite proud of the footballer you’d become since she first met you. After a tough match she’d always be looking around wanting to catch a glimpse of the smile you’d always be wearing to try and cheer everyone up. Leah was relieved knowing you had been the one writing her the letters.
‘I think I practised talking to you and asking you out a couple hundred times in the mirror,’ You sighed out, softly laughing at how ridiculous you felt sharing this with Leah. But she’d already read so many letters from you so you might as well confess everything now, ‘But anonymous notes was all the courage I could muster,’ You whispered out, looking around a little fidgeting with your fingers.
‘You practised asking me out? On yourself?’ Hearing the amusement in Leah’s voice, you looked up seeing her slightly smirking at you.
‘Of course that’s what you focused on,’ You shook your head, a small smile starting to creep it’s way onto your face when it suddenly dropped and you took a deep breath, ‘Well Le, now you know that it’s me…would you want to go out with me some time?’ You raised your eyebrow in question, your eyes glimmering with hope that Leah would agree, hoping that maybe she felt the same way.
‘Hm let me see,’ Leah pulled a fake thinking face, but it made your heart deflate not realising she was setting you up and just messing around with you. Leah saw your face drop and instantly reached for your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers while she smiled softly at you, ‘Oh stop the frown, I’d love to go on a date with you,’ 
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Y'ALL CAN EXCUSE RACISM?
Let's get one thing straight: I have no part in this chaotic mess (infact, I have blocked all the accounts mentioned below), but it's grinding my gears how it's devolving into another petty fanfic drama: case 607. I know this drama is getting the attention for certain individuals who are demonstrating mean girl behaviour and gossiping about other writers behind their backs. However, I am solely focused on addressing the racist and discriminatory remarks made by these individuals in the leaked text messages.
For those not in the loop, there's been a huge drama in the fanfic community involving leaked text messages from a group chat of four prominent members. In these messages, two users - Fae and Bel - have admitted to sending hate anons and talking smack about other writers behind their backs. Two other members left the group after it was revealed that B tried to make amends with someone who these two, Em and Ange, don't particularly care for. As a move to clear their names, Em exposed all the texts, trying to prove that Fae and Bel are the real villains here.
But wait, there's more! In these same chats, Bel not only mocked fellow non-English speakers but also bragged about sending rat emojis to an 18-year-old Pakistani writer who was already receiving racist anons. While everyone is focused on getting back at these two women for being shady af, it's mind-boggling how Em and Ange are suddenly jumping on the anti-racism train.
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These two ladies stayed in the same chat as a fellow Pakistani writer was driven away because of racism, knowing full well that one of their own was contributing to it, and said NOTHING! Zero discouragement, no condemnation - they only hopped off when things got personal.
So here it is… I've had it with all of you hypocrites. You praise and encourage these women at every turn, feeding their egos like they're the second coming of Beyonce. But let's not forget who's always stirring up drama in this fandom - hint: it's these same people with a sense of entitlement the size of a planet. The issue is groupthink and y'all have all jumped on the bandwagon. You're worse than HBO's marketing department because just like their shitty teams, everyone involved here SUCKS ASS. You don't have to pick a side because they are all petty, mean losers. Bel and Fae are facing the consequences of their actions, which they rightfully deserve.
However, Em's exposé on Bel's racism seems more like an opportunistic move and it's disappointing that so many of you are supporting it. It's a predictable cycle now; there will be a half-hearted apology, an announcement of a hiatus, and then tons of people will flock to their inboxes to shower them with praise and excuses. It's ridiculous! I know there are many who feel the same way as me but are afraid to speak up because they don't want to upset the "village elders" and risk losing their connections and engagements. It's a joke atp!
Instead of taking responsibility for their own wrongdoings, they will come up with a list of 10 different cyber crimes by others to divert attention from their own nonsense. These very same women have confessed to creating multiple fake accounts, secretly stalking servers without mods noticing, and constantly harassing individuals through anon messages.
Yet, we are supposed to consider them as examples of moral integrity and ethical behavior? 😒
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