#child friendly days out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soldier-poet-king · 8 months

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Lmaoooooo

Last week had a meeting with someone who is not my boss but who I've been voluntold to help with website design BC I'm young and apparently that means ik what I'm doing (which, to be fair, this is very basic uxd with Squarespace, I CAN do that). Said person was like "oh don't be afraid to give feedback I'm not the kind of person to get all upset and offended"

Me, yesterday: sends feedback, which mind you is hard to do without visuals but I'm a good little grunt and do what I'm told, and I described the integration of hyperlinks as "clunky and unprofessional", in the sense that most modern site design would try to integrate them more seamlessly and it is this unprofessional by current design standards. I also prefaced this with a "I might suggest...." and a "to me, this feels".

This morning. Said person doesn't come to talk to me like the adults we all are, but apparently is so upset that they go to my BOSS and complain(which tbh IS unprofessional). At which point my boss sits me down to talk and tries to be like 'oh some people interpret things in a different light', (no really? I'm a fuckin idiot and don't understand how communication works), shes like 'i didn't read it that way, but PERSON was upset, try to phrase it differently in the future' and she did it in such a way that she managed to once again talk down to me like I'm unaware of the existence of office politics, while also bright red and uncomfortable as if I were to burst into tears and get offended that someone complained about my feedback

Like??? Yeah fragile teen me might've cried. But this is just. So fuckin stupid???? That I can do nothing but shrug it off with a handwave and give my best fake smile and promise to be more politic?? I'm going to have lunch BC frankly this is laughably immature and overly sensitive, and IM THEE MOST SENSITIVE PERSON ON EARTH. Like I even said 'oh it's no big deal' [to my boss, reassuring her I wasn't upset] and she took it as "oh it's no big deal that PERSON is upset and I'm not taking this seriously enough". But in the same conversation managed to complain, in a non politic way, about a different one of our coworkers, and I DEFINITELY knew who she was talking about and she knew I knew

My god. I know it's partially generational maybe. But also. I was EXTREMELY clear in my email, and welcomed further questions if I was unclear in my initial feedback. I didn't bother pointing out that I had been specifically asked for feedback and that person "wouldn't be offended by it because I have thick skin" (my boss was present when that claim was made). I would've been CORRECT had I mentioned it, but it's not worth being accused of being a petulant child bc I can't respect my elders or whatever

Truly this is a clown office and I'm so increasingly goddam tired of being surrounded by ppl who don't value my work because they don't even understand what I do, it's just "archive computer stuff", so they just expect it to be done despite having no idea how to do it themselves, and then taking my work for granted, and treating me like I'm some sort of intern student to be talked down to (frankly, I wouldn't treat an intern like this either)

The only person I work with regularly who doesnt drive me insane and treats me as an equal and values my opinions and actually looks our for my professional interests, not just what I can do for this org, is REITIRING IN THE NEW YEAR and I'm just

Clown behavior all around. Yes I'm grateful to have a job, and benefits, and pay that would otherwise be okay were we not in a rent crisis. But also like. I have ambitions. Workplace culture aside I have no interest in working at this kind of org long term, I will be actively looking at jobs at larger institutions going forward.

I'm supposed to be part of this long term 5 year plan for this org and I'm just like. Hm. I am not planning on being here in 5 years unless for some reason I cannot find a job in my field elsewhere. And sure the higher higher ups are nice, even if I don't think they really know what I do, and treat me sort of like an affectionate grandchild, but also like. I don't work with them directly.

A horrible spiteful part of me would be happy to leave and have them have to figure out how to fill my position on that long term project, but I know that's mean. (Not to mention, any idiot out of archives school with basic knowledge of a handful of common database programs could do my job. They might just not be as self effacing and unfailingly friendly in the process)

#the duality of fran #i am SO smiley and friendly #even when I'm like. bloody murder.#gahhhh #once again. kip mdang i understand u more and more every day #im out here like 🤡🤡🤡#i know i can be awkward but like. IM not the one misreading and misinterpreting everything and being a sensitive baby #this is a LAUGHABLE thing to. 1 get offended over. 2. go to my BOSS instead of me directly #like im a child needing discplining #i cant tell if im going insane or everyone at my work is #truly ppl cannot be this dense #i have had workplace issues before but never over such stupid shit #and i managed to manage university and grad school department politics with ease #so like. :///// MAYBE im not the issue here

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monty-glasses-roxy · 3 months

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What if the cut Hive Arcade that was in the Fazcade was an 18+ arcade? Like you go in there and it's all slots and one armed bandits and stuff

DJ's bouncer mode including just sorta sitting there in the doorway so little kids can't get past him into the Gambling Zone

#bro he is just Sitting There #you exit the hive and all you see is DJ Ass cause the child swarm wants to gamble their lifesavings from their piggy banks #dj music man #I've a feeling his fans will see the Vision lmao sdfdsf #he parts the army of addiction hungry kids like the red sea to let the only just eighteen year old pass #alas his piggy bank was not added to that day...#sfdfsfzd dj out here making sure no one gets addicted cause he just Shows Up completely silently and fucking Gets You #with music and a friendly jumpscare but he fucking Gets You lmao #DJ is here to both scare you to death and to politely cut you off when you've been playing a while #hands them a pack of arcade tokens to play with instead-#and then waves you goodbye like a grandma watching their grandkid go home after the weekend #DJ the Casino Grandma #why did the Hive close? he fucking wrecked it cause he realised how predatory it was and now it's just a cool Room #DJ's Cool Room to be specific lmao #that's his home now #the DJ Hive #Casino Grandma's Secret Lair #gdfsfssfdsf anyway take this it's funny #fnaf security breach

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crystal-lillies · 1 month

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Batman and Robin is not a good movie to watch. I appreciate its camp and cartoonish stylization sometimes when the mood hits, as well as its attempts to make Mr. Freeze a sympathetic villain. But man. I can't even have it on in the background without cringing in secondhand embarrassment or speeding through.

Whereas, on the other hand, Batman Forever is entirely watchable all the way through without skipping, and it maintains the camp and cartoony vibe without pushing it over the edge. Plus, there's still lingering deeper tones from the Burton-Keaton films since Tim Burton was still producing the movie and Keaton was originally set to reprise the role.

Val Kilmer also does a pretty bang up job as Batman and Bruce Wayne, in my opinion, and I think he gels better with Chris O'Donnell's Dick Grayson than George Clooney does.

Are they both full of cheese? Absolutely.

One is just Cheese Whiz while the other is regular cheddar.

Do I have a point? maybe, maybe not.

Sometimes I miss the cheesy, campy, cartoony superhero movies that only took themselves seriously half of the time, but still told compelling character stories.

For better or worse, every live-action Batman movie since Schumacher has been grimdark and gritty, and I'd like to see some of the technicolor again.

But erring on the side of Forever, not Batman and Robin.

#flowerspeak #batman #dc #batman and robin #batman forever #actors #val kilmer #george clooney #chris o'donnell #do I have a bias? absolutely #batman forever is the first live action batman I ever watched or was exposed to #I had a children's picture book version of the movie #which is strange but like #not too dissimilar from certain older teen/adult oriented action films also having child friendly book tie ins #but it REALLY is night and day when you compare forever to batman and robin #i cannot sit through batman and robin without wanting to skip past everything but like 4 or 5 out of context moments #but i genuinely miss the cartoony yet dark stylized shumacher burton gotham

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chryzure · 2 months

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sitting here, twiddling my thumbs. azure might be some form of aplatonic as well.

#memorie.txt #aspec in all categories i guess!!!#mostly because. i was rlly trying to figure out what his deal is #because he’s Friendly with ppl (or polite) but generally doesn’t pursue deeper friendships #because he doesn’t rlly feel the need to?? he’s jst fine as is thanks… he has his wife and his 21 seaslug free daughters at home..#hmm. jst feels weird when trying to assign him friends. he would NOT enjoy that!!!!#there’s literally no drive or enjoyment derived from (most?) friendships. he’s jst enduring #i think conni surpassed that by hitting azure’s cheat code totally on accident (photography/chess/chrysi)#and now he and conni are linked for life #and chrysi jst is the most perfect companion for azure ever #so she gets to be his. jst his. like it’s romantic but it’s also so much More than that. they once shared a body. they once shared a SOUL.#it’s too simple to describe as romantic…#anyway. this doesn’t count when azure perceives someone as an adoptive child because he loves kids #but at the end of the day azure jst likes keeping friendly acquaintances #. this is no surprise to anyone but im slowly figuring out labels for all my charas #and assigning them all different mental conditions too. chrysi’s bipolar and has ocd (obvious). jacks has bpd like crazy.#azure’s… hmm. defs low empathy and depression and probably autism #but most of my characters do. chrysi’s ocd might stem from autism i jst need to Consider this..#anywayyy. thoughts.#i am Going to sleep. i cried vv hard and ate chocolate and thought abt azure so im all good for the night ithink

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ridiasfangirlings · 1 year

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Girls day for Anna, Awashima, Yayoi, Neko, Kukuri, and Douhan. What sorts of activities do they do?

Everyone gets a shopping and spa day :D If the kids weren’t with them they could do even more girly things like hand to hand combat but Awashima is mindful of the young girls. Maybe this is actually Anna’s idea though, like she’s talking to her friend Tsubaki one day and Tsubaki is a little concerned that Anna’s surrounded by men all day, like don’t you ever just want to have a girls day like I do with my mother sometimes. Anna considers and later she asks Kusanagi about it, maybe she’s a little down because this reminds her of her late mom and Honami too, they used to do things together all the time and she didn’t appreciate it enough at the time. Kusanagi is worried that Anna’s upset at not having more female influences in her life so he reaches out to Awashima who’s just immediately like ‘I understand, I will prepare everything’ and hangs up, leaving Kusanagi even more concerned.

Luckily Awashima was just planning a nice girls day and she decides to invite some other girls along, Yayoi is super excited to spend some time with her. She also invites Neko, knowing that Neko and Anna are close, and Neko invites Kukuri. Awashima also decides to ask Douhan, who’s been doing some work for S4 for a while now (because Munakata wanted his own ninja), Douhan is hesitant but admits she hasn’t had a break in a while and she’s fine with going as long as someone else is paying. Anna is actually very excited about this, getting to spend time with other girls and have a day out. Kusanagi trusts Awashima to take care of her and tells Anna to have a good time.

They decide to go shopping first, imagine Kukuri, Neko and Anna all looking at clothes together. Kukuri thinks they should buy something cute for Neko and Anna both, since she knows Neko doesn’t have a lot of outfits. Neko doesn’t want to look at clothes for herself but she’s excited to try on anything Anna does, so they can match. Meanwhile Douhan spots a knife shop across the street and excuses herself to look while Yayoi helps Awashima look for some new workout wear. Imagine them trying everything in together and Kukuri and Anna are very impressed by how muscular Awashima is, Kukuri is a little jealous of her bust size while Yayoi is just very proud of how amazing her senior is.

Later they stop at a cafe, Neko and Anna share a big parfait and Kukuri gets herself an ice cream while Awashima, Yayoi and Douhan decide to be a little more… unconventional with their food. Yayoi gets a nice mayonnaise latte while Awashima and Douhan both get a nice anko frappe (Douhan didn’t realize you could order such a thing until Awashima did so with perfect confidence, she didn’t realize this cafe could also be adventurous). Kukuri just stares a little at their food and then shrugs, like maybe this is the taste of adults.

After this everyone gets to go to a nearby spa bath, the adults relax while Anna and Kukuri work together to get Neko into the water. Neko’s complaining because she doesn’t want to get wet and Awashima tells her that if she’s worked up a sweat it’s best to take a bath afterward, Yayoi gets an idea and suggests they bring something fun to play with in the water and that will make the bath more enjoyable. This works and Yayoi tells the others that this is how she and Zenjoh get Kuro the cat to stay still during his baths. Afterwards everyone feels very rested and refreshed and they decide to head back to the bar, Anna, Neko and Kukuri are going to stay the night while the others go home. Awashima wonders if this was the kind of bonding Anna was hoping for and Anna nods with this small happy smile, she feels like she made a good memory.

#k project #Talking K #yay girls day out #if it was just Awashima and Douhan they could spar while Yayoi fangirls over them #but they have to be child friendly for the others #I think they'd all have a good time #it's nice to be away from the boys for a while and pamper themselves

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vonlipwig · 2 years

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I think people are good, actually, on the whole

#like i think humanity is inherently good #i know it's a lot easier to think the natural order of things is that people are bad #but people are good you know #people are naturally friendly and silly and nice and kind and go out of their way to help others #i see people helping other carry their luggage or prams up and down stairs and escalators on the tube all the time #a man came up to us at our town's summer festival to give my kid a toy he'd won on the tombola bc he wanted to the support the charity #but had no need for the prize then saw my kid and just thought 'i bet that child would like this little pig soft toy' so he gave it to them #my colleague bought choc ices for everyone in our meeting on friday just because it was warm #every day i talk to my friends on the two funny servers I'm part of and they're kind and nice #my in laws came down this weekend and my father in law insisted on cooking dinner despite being the guest #people are good you know people are so good #you've just got to look around you #the nature of humanity is to care for each other #anyway sorry #i just like people #and i think when you're told constantly how awful people are the mos counter-culture thing you can do is to love your fellow human

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ragingtwilight · 9 months

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Obsessed w some random charas i had in a dream

#multiple dreams to be exact #yall ever have multiple reoccurring dreams that happen at any point during your life?#thats what happened LMAO #i remember dreaming of the elephant character ages ago several times and eventually he ended up in a locker or jail #and he would count the days he was stuck there untilhe was freed throuvh lockers #the lovkers would just hold numbers inside of them #recently i dreamt of him again #and there were 6 lockers #the first one was empty and the rest had a specific amount of numbers that i cant remember off the top of my head #but he released some balloons from his snout that hed been holding for this day and looked incredibly tired #like he was waiting in a cage behind those lockers for me to dream of him again and free him from his cage #now that i remember him and the characters in this dream i am mildly obsessed with them as ocs ahxgxufh #itd be nice to remember everything in my dreams of them but that is not the case :(#if i wanna make my story w them ill have to think while awake #a bit sad since i like to keep track of everything i dream of but i forget it too soon or forget what it was a while after writing it out #rippo. but the fellas from this dream are more on the child friendly design so idk how many of u would be interested #grrr

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viiisenyas · 1 year

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It still makes me sad that they essentially made Jon Snow a whiny himbo throughout the entirety of Game of Thrones.

In the novels he was actually an incredibly bright, albeit inexperienced individual that had to make difficult decisions as a 15-year-old. I couldn’t fathom having to deal with half of what he had to at fifteen.

anyways, I’m fixing it. Hopefully it turns out fine.

#sorry I’m referencing both the books and the show for my thing and I prefer book!Jon far more #since I’m basing my fic off of show canon though I’m fixing him #and giving him way more options than just the Wall #pfft pretty girl who is heir to her house? no problem #nice castle by the sea on an island that’s 3 days away from his biological father? let’s do it #no caesar treatment? I’m frothing at the mouth #writing commentary #I mean granted the story still plays out relatively similar with ned getting the chop but still #someone else can deal with the Wall *cough*Benjen*cough*#also #the stupid ‘hidden prince’ arc is completely out the window #because David and Dan can choke #and Lyanna deserved better than to be painted as a selfish hypocrite #friendly reminder that she was a CHILD and Rhaegar was a straight up pr*dator :)

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thinkingnot · 1 year

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hoodie needs a haircut 😔

but he also vowed to have it long to remake like 50 different hair styles (they just look really cool alright mans gotta try something new) and then buzz it off and keep the severed hair (like he has done multiple times before yes hoodie has 4 hair bags around the home no theyre not for sale)

#the reason i started keeping hair because when i was child one day my mum was like you wanna cut it short like me? (bob cut) and i was like #alright im lazy washing so much of it and i got out of the emo tangled phase so lets try and then it was eco friendly so i kept havin it #below the ears— wait sidetracked come back so like the first time i chopped a bunch of length my mum was like how bout we keep it cuz it #looked cool like you had your hair so long and nice and i initially agreed cuz i was like oh i can sell it (ever the capitalist my 8 years #old self) only to find out afterwards that its really really bad to sell your hair like donating is fine but selling hair? thats really #unlucky and like bad omens and stuffs #and then after that i learnt about voodoo dolls - yep thats why i still keep my hair every time after that in case a wizard looked for #some voodoo making nope nope not risking it and then even when i grew out of the voodoo paranoia it was now the pandemic and we cut hair at #home and i was like i dont want to put it in the trash cuz how would i separate it it is recyclable or not idk so i kept them again and now #i have a chonk full of hair lil drawer under my bed together with shards of tempered glass i picked from a broken window(?) i found on the #streets by my house so if anyone got a nice ritual recipe incould try out with these ominous items i got drop it #personal #hoodin’t #<- ooc not /rp as a hoodie

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mappingway · 1 year

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Me trying to tell myself "you did all you could and the ball is no longer in your court, if they choose to block you that's their choice, people are going to pick sides bc that's how social media works."

But then my subconscious comes and says, "you are a fuck up if people dislike you. Maybe if you hadn't had a break down, these people would still think you're a good person, but instead you let them see how fucked up you are and now they don't want anything to do with you, and they're telling everyone about how fucked up you are, that's why blogs left and right are blocking you."

#i had to talk to my mom today. that did it to me #hearing her voice telling me i should have played nice for my dad so she could get child support #that i fucked up and should have agreed to see him when i didn't want to #all i do is fuck up. all i do. i sit here and do my best to pretend and pretend and pretend #and everyone is so welcoming and accepting of mental illness and go 'oh you can talk to me!!'#until the mental illness has teeth and then they fucking run #it's the exact reason as to why people think schizophrenics are violent when they're not #they get scared or hurt by the mentally ill and flee #what happened to support? what happened to 'im here if you need me'm #only when it's sociable and cool and friendly but the moment someone is ACTUALLY MENTALLY ILL its off.#i hate it here. good day #i was literally just saying yesterday how happy i am that i dont want to yeet myself out of a moving vehicle anymore. but alas!#still want to die!

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holidaytots · 3 months

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Discovering a Family Holiday in Wales: Top 5 Activities around Bodnant Estate for Families with Young Children

View On WordPress

#child friendly holiday cottages #days out in wales #family holiday #family holiday accommodation #family holiday in wales #slider #wales

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supercutszns · 4 months

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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

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