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sweetlemontart · 10 months

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call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

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Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath.

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on.

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease.

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago.

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend.

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification.

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck.

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan.

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious.

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by.

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier.

"Is that it?" you asked him.

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head.

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you.

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest.

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name.

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach.

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes.

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further.

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show.

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal.

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more.

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow.

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to.

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit.

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut.

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge.

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in.

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much?

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend.

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it.

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you.

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer.

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising.

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants.

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light.

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you.

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet.

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum.

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back.

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath.

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes.

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips.

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting.

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening.

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all.

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better.

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him.

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh.

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips.

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole.

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt.

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit.

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up.

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow.

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt.

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name.

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know.

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle.

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy.

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it.

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours.

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp.

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt.

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow.

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

"Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him.

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full.

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess."

"W-What?" you squeak out.

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans.

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest.

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you.

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin.

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air.

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?"

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs.

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst.

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors.

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind.

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance.

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry?

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes.

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again.

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high.

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet.

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it.

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal.

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck.

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing.

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk.

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly.

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out.

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago.

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair.

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind.

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes.

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..."

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—"

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once.

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head.

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush.

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open.

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer.

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him.

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath.

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..."

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly.

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his.

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss.

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine.

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes.

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice.

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek.

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom.

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bellezaycafe · 2 months

Text

sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 1.

Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

warnings: swearing, mentions of a car accident.

comments: The revamped Get Your Shit Together is here! Let me know if you enjoy the new version :)

Sadie had to force a deep breath through her system. The podium sitters were not going to like the news she had. The cooldown room’s walls felt a little like they were closing in on her.

“Alright, listen up!” She called, feeling a bit like she was talking to a random club team. “The stewards have finalised the penalties and we have two drivers dropping down.”

There was a quiet chorus of curses from Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Oscar Piastri, quiet from his third place chair, frowned.

“Lance Stroll was given two 5-second penalties for track limits. I’m told that he served one in a pit-stop, but the other took him down to 9th.” Sadie tried to give them all a gentle smile.

It might not have come across that way as she braced herself for the next one.

“Max Verstappen, you, and Pierre Gasly, were both given a 10-second penalty for overtaking under yellow flag conditions.” A small cry of outrage came from Charles Leclerc. “This was decided during your last lap and was not conveyed to your engineers in time for them to tell you.”

Max Verstappen’s face pulled into a glare of fury, while Charles Leclerc buried his face in his hands.

“What do you mean, 10-second penalty?”

Sadie hoped he didn’t explode at her during the next piece of news. She looked down at the iPad in her hands and read the standings.

“Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc were all under ten seconds behind you, so you will now be P4.”

“What?! Are you serious?!” The world champion did explode. “Pierre overtook me and I was just taking it back!”

It had been a long weekend for Sadie. She had never been to an F1 race before, let alone volunteered at one; she knew she would be busy but she hadn’t expected to be thrust into learning something the hard way at 7 am. And again at 10. Again at 2. And now again at 4:28 pm.

“I understand that-“ She held up a placating hand, reining in a scathing reply.

“Obviously you don’t if you are giving me a penalty for -“

Sadie cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Who do you think I am, Verstappen? Huh?”

He stopped leaning towards her, something he hadn’t noticed himself doing.

She took advantage of his hesitation. “I am a volunteer. What power do you think I have to change this for you?” she spat.

A scowl appeared on his face as he began to lean in again. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw Piastri start forward, his papaya suit around his hips. She put a hand out to stop him.

“I know who I am talking to. You are a three time world champion who will survive the depths of P4. You are Max Verstappen the reigning Champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child! Get your shit together!”

He stopped at that. All three, no four, as Lando Norris had appeared in the doorway, of the drivers did. Piastri and Leclerc looked ready to jump forward and restrain him.

Sadie saw the anger leave his eyes and said to everyone, “if you’re all sick of the FIA imposing these penalties just before interviews, maybe you should all say something. Together, as the drivers.”

It was Charles who shrugged. “If something happens in the final laps, it is fair for it to reach us after the race.”

“Yea,” Lando agreed. “But not half an hour after the chequered flag.”

All the drivers conceded that, recalling the penalties of Jeddah two weeks prior.

“I’m going to read out your standings and you’re going to stand in that spot. Do not“ -Sadie glared at Max- “complain to me, I cannot help you.”

And read them out she did. Leclerc had won, Piastri had come a close second and Norris an even closer third.

A few hundred metres away, and outside of the cooldown room, Verstappen silently simmered in his P4 position. When she left the room, Fernando Alonso smiled at Sadie from P5. Lewis Hamilton, in P6, held a fist out for a fist bump.

Sadie waited for her next job as the rest of the grid lined up in their order. They went out one by one and did their interviews.

Sadie sighed once they were all gone. At least, she’d thought they were all gone. Carlos Sainz, who had crashed out in lap 4, hadn’t gone out for his interviews yet.

“We all heard that. I don’t know if it was brave or stupid.”

Sadie jumped and shook her head. “I don’t know either and to be honest, I’m too tired to care. He was angry, I understand that, but my patience has been worn very thin.”

Sainz hummed thoughtfully as he left with a soft wave, red Ferrari suit right over his tensed shoulders.

Sadie pulled in a deep breath. Another volunteer told her that she was done for the day, and she gathered her gear. She’d be back in the morning to help pack down the equipment.

Sadie Leo needed some time to contemplate how she’d just yelled at Max fucking Verstappen.

--:--$--:--

“Charles!” The reporter called him over. “This is your first race of the season! How does that feel?”

“I mean,” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I found out in the cooldown room, we all did. I’m still shocked! I don’t know what happened with the penalty or the flags, I’m just happy to have another win!”

“You weren’t sure that you won?”

Charles laughed through his, “no!”

After a small pause he added, “I think a volunteer was given the standing from the stewards. She told us, and told some of us off for complaining.”

“We saw the beginning of an argument between an official and Max, but the feed was cut. What happened there?”

“Ah well, we are all pretty annoyed by the penalties; that safety car was twenty laps ago and we were only just being told. It is frustrating, we are all frustrated."

Oscar Piastri's interview was similar.

"That was very well done out there, Oscar. How does the P2 in your home race feel?"

"I'm still trying to process the fact that I scored a podium in my home race. It's an incredible feeling."

"You were standing here when Charles spoke about the late penalties. Do you agree with his sentiment?"

"Yeah," the Australian answered without hesitation. "Frustration is the right word for what we're all feeling."

With a nod and a thank you, he handed back the microphone and walked away.

Lando stepped up.

"Congratulations," the reporter began. "That is another double podium for McLaren, how does it feel?"

"I'm gonna be honest, undeserved. Don't get me wrong, I think I did well today and I'm proud of Oscar and our team, but I didn't cross that line in third. I don't know the full story about Max's penalty but it just seems undeserved, you know? He should have kept the win. I should be P4, not Max. The FIA needs to sort it out."

"Wow, that's a strong opinion. Will you get in trouble for saying that live?"

Lando shrugged and pursed his lips. "If I do, I do."

His PR manager pulled him away before he could say anything more incriminating.

Then Max stepped up, still fuming.

"Max," the reporter began.

"I know what you're going to ask," he interrupted. "Yes, I'm upset about the penalty. Gasly passed me under yellow flag conditions. I was told that I was allowed to take the position back. It is an unfair penalty."

"Charles told us that a volunteer told all the drivers off for complaining. Surely you have a right to complain?"

Max let out a surprised huff of laughter. "Charles is being Charles! That volunteer told me off. I blamed her for the penalty and she put me back in my place. Volunteers don't dictate penalties and can't change them."

Max shrugged and moved to hand the microphone back to the reporter. She held up a hand to ask one last question.

"Do you think the stewards should revoke the penalty?"

"Yes. They shouldn't have given me a penalty and they shouldn't have handed it out half an hour after the safety car. I think that all of the drivers are sick of being told what place we finished after the race."

"Thank you for your time, Max. It was still an incredible race."

He nodded his thanks and moved on.

It was the same reply over and over.

We are tired of the FIA handing out penalties well after the fact.

We are frustrated.

We are annoyed.

We. We. We.

Sadie never watched any of the interviews. She didn’t watch the footage from the cooldown room, in which her face is hidden but her voice is alarmingly clear. She didn't realise the impact she'd had on the drivers.

As she wiped a hand across her sweaty brow the next day, she wondered if they had said anything. She was about to ask her friend, Aurora, when a shadow fell over her.

She turned to see Max Verstappen.

"Hi?" She frowned.

"I'm sorry" he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut in mortification at his slip up.

"What?"

"About yesterday," he muttered, opening those blue eyes. "I shouldn't have tried to intimidate you."

Sadie laughed and put down the tent peg she'd been using to remove other tent pegs. "The key word there is tried."

Max smiled at her laughter. He chuckled a little and stared down at his feet in the dirt.

"But," Sadie continued, "thank you for apologising. I didn't take it to heart. You’re trying to break records. Yesterday, something probably slipped through your fingers and it made you angry. I know, so it's okay."

Max's eyes widened at her nonchalant statement about his motivation.

"What?" she asked impatiently. "I figured out your goal? It wasn't hard, Verstappen."

"No, it's not that."

"What, then?"

"You had already forgiven me?"

"Yes, I forgave you the moment you left the room. You were angry and that was your response to the anger."

"That doesn't make it okay," he pressed. He didn't know why he was pushing her, she’d already forgiven him.

"Which is why you will never do it again." She pointed a dangerous finger at his face.

"Okay," he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Good. Now I’ve got things to do and you probably have somewhere you have to be.” Sadie pointed at the gazebo and then the bag it belonged to.

“Right, yes. I have a flight in a few hours, so I need to get to the airport. Have a great day, yeah? It was amazing to meet you.” He stepped backwards, with a thumbs up.

“It was an honour to meet you too Max Verstappen. Never forget who you are.”

Max had to take a deep breath as he strode away.

Never forget who you are.

You are Max Verstappen the world champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child.

He made a promise to himself then, and to Sadie, that he would hold himself to a higher standard. He could be better, he should be better, he would be better.

Let me know what you think!

credits to saradika-graphics for the banner :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 link

Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner @leilanixx

#formula 1 #f1 fic #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #max verstappen #sunsets and self doubt #get your shit together

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whipitgod · 8 days

Text

Friendly

Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter

oneshot - wc: 2.2k

summary: Post Fall- Will wants to make some friends and Hannibal thinks this is a terrible idea. part of the 'Pushed In' universe but it's not necessary to read those to understand this one

warnings: language, canon typical murder, crackish

a/n: Thank you for all the love on the last few oneshots!! i have a destiel oneshot as well as a part 2 to the stucky oneshot coming sometime in the next week so stay tuned for that!! as always, if you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Don’t think you can get out of this conversation by stabbing me Hannibal.” Hannibal looks down at the knife he had picked up when Will had brought up the topic of making friends, weighing his options.

Hannibal squints slightly at the man in front of him, deciding whether or not he should try anyway, “It would certainly postpone the conversation,” He sets the knife down after saying this, glancing around a bit, his eyes landing on the door that led to the backyard; he could always make a run for it.

“Jesus Christ Hannibal, you’ve never had an issue with being social in the past,” Will takes a step closer to cannibal, hands raising in a placating gesture when he sees Hannibal's hand twitch slightly towards where the knife sits on the counter, “I mean, normally I'm the one who has to be forced to meet people.”

“I just don’t think making friends is all that pertinent at the moment dear,” Hannibal pauses to scowl at the way Will had grabbed the knife when he wasn't paying attention, “We arrived here so recently, I think it's fair that we give ourselves time to settle.”

Will rolls his eyes at the man, “We’ve been here for almost two years, I think we’ve had plenty of time to settle.”

Hannibal grabs another knife from the block of the counter causing will to send a pointed look at the man, “I’m serious Hannibal, you should know by now that a stab wound won't deter me from talking to you about this,” the man drops the knife back into the block, “If anything it’ll make me more annoying about it.”

Hannibal sighs at Will's words, knowing the man is right, “Fine, if it makes you stop bothering me while I make dinner I will attempt to make friends.”

Will offers Hannibal a smile at this, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the man's lips before turning and making his way out of the room, “We can go into town tomorrow!” the words are called out over his shoulder as he enters their bedroom.

It’s not that Hannibal didn’t like meeting people or that he was bad at it, quite the opposite actually; Hannibal had always been likable, navigating social situations with a lot of ease. The issue isn’t with the social interactions, in all honesty he wouldn’t mind having a few acquaintances; the issue is that Will was the one requesting it. The man can’t help but wonder if Will is already growing bored of him; why else would the ex-profiler be so adamant on meeting new people. Hannibal reasons that it’s fair for Will to be growing restless with the lack of human interaction that doesn’t revolve around Hannibal, the man had been almost entirely cut off from social interactions save for rushed conversations with shopkeepers when they venture into the nearest town.

In all honesty the main reason Hannibal didn’t want to make friends was because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time they had both tried to make friends. They had decided to try and make friends separately a few months prior, the problem with that was the way that had both reacted to the new people in the other's life; they had both flown off the handle with jealousy. The whole event had ended in two murders and some, admittedly, amazing makeup sex. Hannibal stops chopping as he recalls the events from a few months before.

Will was going to kill him; Hannibal wasn't going to be able to get the blood out of the carpet by the time the younger man returned home, and when Will finds out that Hannibal had killed the only friend the man had managed to make during their stay in Argentina he wasn’t sure how Will would react. He was sure the reaction wouldn't be positive, though the man had forgiven him for worse Hannibal was worried this might be the straw that breaks the camel's back. He’s knelt on the carpet next to the large blood stain patting at it with a damp cloth, he hasn’t even had a chance to move the man's body yet and Will would be home at any moment.

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he had ever been this neurotic in his killing endeavors, he hadn’t even had the intention of killing the man that day. The man had been introduced to him by Will a few weeks earlier, his name was Marcus, and he was new to Argentina with no family; he had said he was looking for a fresh start and Hannibal reasons to himself that some might consider death a form of ‘beginning’. Marcus had stopped by in hopes of talking to Will about a fishing trip they had planned, and the man had frowned slightly when he was told that Will wasn’t home before fixing his expression into a polite smile and attempting to spark up a conversation with Hannibal. The man was polite and for the first time ever that made Hannibal dislike him even more; The man being respectful as he asked Hannibal about his hobbies and interests. The conversation had ended up steering back towards the topic of Will; Marcus singing the man’s praises, talking about how kind and funny Will was.

One minute the man had been talking to Hannibal in the living room and the next minute he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood; Hannibal is a little fuzzy on the details of how it all unfolded. He remembers feeling overcome with jealousy, a feeling he historically had not handled well, and he remembers feeling the weight of the stone lion statue in his hand as he cracked it against the man’s skull, He remembers setting the lion statue back on the mantle of the fireplace before realizing exactly what he had just done. Will was going to be furious, an emotion that Hannibal loathed to have directed towards him, and he doubts the man will be willing to hear him out on this one.

He stops his work on the stain to run his clean hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen into his face, he heaves a sigh before beginning his ministrations again. He freezes when he hears the door open, taking a second to gather his thoughts and say his prayers before he has to face Will.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” there goes any hope Hannibal had that the conversation would be calm, “really Hannibal? You couldn't have found anyone else to kill?”

Hannibal hasn’t looked up from where he’s still knelt on the carpet, his knees are starting to ache, but he stays resolutely looking at the stain in front of him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finds the words he wants to use, “I didn’t plan this one.” Not his best defense ever, that's for sure.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Will's voice is loud, and his tone is sharp, “I finally made a friend after living here for over a year, and you brain him the first chance you get?”

“I truly am sorry dear, I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Oh my God you were jealous.” It's not said like an accusation, Will sounding very resolute as he says it, “You couldn't stand the idea of someone else making me happy.”

“I admit that I am not handling your newly formed relationships well,” Hannibal looks down at where his once white shirt is now covered in splotches of red that are already starting to turn a rusty brown, “am I not enough for you Will?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” at Hannibal’s lack of response Will lets out an incredulous laugh, “it’s normal for people to hang out with people that aren’t their partners Hannibal.”

“We are anything but normal dear.”

“Cut the dramatics, we are supposed to look normal. We have to seem normal, so people don’t start questioning what the two reclusive men living out in the forest get up to in their spare time.”

“I’ve made a lot of effort to look normal, I have dulled my wardrobe significantly!” Hannibal huffed an annoyed sounding laugh, “I mean dear god Will what else do you want from me?”

“Okay first of all, you didn’t ‘dull your wardrobe’ there just isn't anyone nearby that can tailor you ridiculous suits,” the cannibal makes an affronted noise at this, muttering a disbelieving ‘ridiculous suits’ to himself, but will continues on like the man hadn't said anything, “and I don’t know Hannibal, maybe you could start with not killing the select few people that I can manage to form friendships with!”

“I told you that I was sorry,” Will barks out a sharp laugh at this but Hannibal ignores him, “and I told you that I didn't plan this, I really don’t know what came over me.”

Hannibal stands slowly, knees cracking with the movement; he’s getting older, and he’s reminded of it every time he sits in one place for too long. Once he’s on his feet he chances a look at Will, and he freezes at what he sees.

“Why are you bloody dear?”

“This isn’t about me, Hannibal.”

Will was covered in smears of blood; Hannibal can make out a few distinct bloody handprints on the man's arms. The blood was everywhere, the cannibal would guess it's even in Will’s hair; the remnants of blood splatters remain on his cheeks, smeared around slightly from what Hannibal assumes was a failed attempt at cleaning it up.

“Whose blood is that Will?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was mine?”

“No.”

Will curses softly to himself, pushing his hair out of his face, “You’re going to have to find a new person to get your wine from.”

“You killed Victoria?” It’s Hannibal’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh, “and you had the nerve to react to my behavior the way you did?”

“I didn’t flirt with Marcus.”

“I don’t recall flirting with Victoria.”

“She flirted with you, and you played into it!”

Hannibal scoffs, “I did nothing of the sort! I was simply being ‘friendly’ like you asked me to.”

“Oh, you were ‘friendly’ alright! Apparently, you never mentioned me to her because she seemed awfully surprised that your husband was there to talk to her.” Will was practically shaking with anger, the rage from earlier when he had killed the woman returning in waves.

“We never discussed anything that personal Will, we merely talked about wine and literature.” Hannibal reached up to place a placating hand on the man's shoulder, but Will smacked it away.

“You couldn’t be bothered to mention the fact that you had a husband to the woman that all but asked you to strip every time you saw her?”

“She was being kind.”

“Way too kind.”

“So, you killed her?” Hannibal isn’t necessarily upset at the turn of events; he’ll admit that he had grown a bit fond of the conversations he shared with the woman, but the news of her death doesn’t stir up many emotions.

“Of course I did! You should know by now that I’m not the most stable man Hannibal,” Will pauses for a moment, remembering what had led them to this conversation, “let’s not forget that you did the same thing,” Will motions to the corpse laying on their living room floor, “and at least I didn’t ruin the carpet during my murder.”

“Your murder seems a bit more premeditated than mine, and a lot bloodier.”

“I know a cannibalistic serial killer isn’t judging the gruesomeness of my murdering.”

“I’m simply observing-”

“Oh, I’ll give you something to observe-”

“Please Will, my head is starting to hurt,” The fight is leaving Hannibal quickly, the events of the day starting to catch up to him, “I need to do something about this body,” He pauses for a second, “You don’t have Victoria in the trunk of our car do you? It’s a nightmare to clean.”

“She’s at the bottom of the lake, I didn't want to look at her any longer than I had to,” the younger man sighs and rolls his shoulders, the day was starting to weigh on him too, “This conversation isn't over, but let's put a pin in it while we deal with the dead guy.”

Hannibal nods at the man's words, turning towards where Marcus's body lays, “Heads or tails?”

“You’re not funny Hannibal.”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the hand that Will places on his shoulder, his head snapping up to meet the man's curious gaze, offering him a small smile.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Hannibal’s mind flashes back to Will’s earlier statement about how stabbing him wouldn't end a conversation, and even with that thought present he still thinks about trying. Hannibal didn't want to admit to Will that he was worried that another attempt at forming friendships would end with just as much blood as the last attempt. He also wasn’t keen on the idea of admitting that he was jealous, “I’m great.”

“You don’t look great, you look almost constipated.”

The comment earns a scowl from Hannibal before the man sighs and turns to face Will, “Do we have to make friends?”

“Yes,” Will takes in the state of Hannibal, the man looking a little queasy at the thought of Will forming bonds with other people, “and we aren't allowed to kill them this time either, I finally got that carpet replaced.”

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transmutationisms · 5 months

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any tips for starting running? what worked for you?

well i started-started when i was 4 and not in control of my own life choices lol. i have gone through off-periods with it as an adult and had to rebuild my conditioning, but i was trained so young that i genuinely have very little memory of learning a lot of the basic skills (pacing, form).

if you're starting from scratch i think the headline item is to establish enough of a habit that you build up the cardiovascular endurance and muscular strength that you want. there are no magic universal numbers here, but basically you're going to start by running really slowly (like the slowest pace possible to run at) for as long as you can sustain it. this will depend on your prior fitness level but will often be somewhere between like 1 and 5 minutes. then you walk, briskly but not with a speed goal, until you've caught your breath—usually a minute or two. then you repeat those intervals a few times. for most people a good goal for the first few walk/runs will be like 15–30 minutes total; you can always go shorter but be cautious of going really long right out of the gate because you can easily overdo it when you haven't learned your own limits yet.

this process feels very boring and pointless at first, but if you commit to doing it a few times a week, you'll start to notice it getting easier (in typical populations without cardiovascular conditions, the heart begins pumping more efficiently within a few weeks of introducing new activity). over time you can increase your run intervals (and eventually drop walk intervals), your speed, and your overall time per session. once you're comfortable with the basics, you can decide whether you have specific goals in mind: a certain distance, speed, difficult terrain, casual jogs around the block, &c. there are training plans you can look up for specific races (hal higdon is usually a first rec these days) though personally i don't use structured plans like that, even when i'm race training.

it's normal to have muscle soreness when introducing a new activity (usually peaking 2 days after a session) but if you're noticing other pain, stiffness, joint instability, &c—hold off on running unless and until you've addressed those issues. if you're hurting in a way that alters your form you're risking a really annoying cascade of biomechanical issues. speaking of: everybody's form looks a little different and it's generally best to just stick with what feels good; many problems with form are actually just caused by people trying to run further and faster than they're conditioned for (ie, not building enough of a base). but, you do want to watch out for overstriding (this is different to normal heelstriking, which many people do without issue), and keep your shoulders loose, core engaged, and arms swinging. you can really go down a lot of rabbit holes about 'correct' running form, but my honest advice is try not to overthink it, build up your running slowly over time, and your form will most likely settle however is most comfortable for you.

also don't run in shoes that fit poorly or are so old that the soles are visibly breaking down. most people don't need very fancy shoes, but a basic trainer with the right level of arch support and a good tread will make a big difference in terms of both comfort and long-term injury prevention.

finally i would just say: ymmv (literally), but there's a lot of 'advice' for runners of all stripes that's really focussed on tracking and numerical measures. this is not the only way to engage with the sport and ime it can really detract from your actual enjoyment, as well as your ability to pay attention to how you feel physically and to build skills like pacing. track and measure only insofar as it's helpful to whatever you're actually trying to accomplish; you don't need to shoot for x goal or achievement or time just because someone else did or because the number is there lol

#runposting

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stellarislune · 2 months

Text

Andrew x Darling ; Rewind pt. 2

alternate universe where, two years after your failed confession towards andrew, you became his teacher assistant instead! 🤭

here's the link to part one! make sure to read it first.

YOUR POV

Two weeks after that day.

Here you are at Professor Andrew's office.

It's a neat workspace with his table and swivel chair at the far right of the office. It's a new one, it seems. Probably bought not far from a month ago. How do you know? Because you’re a psychic.

You snort to yourself and then you shake your head, feeling silly for distracting yourself from what you’re doing.

Right now, you’re sorting suspended files stacked and stored on his set of cabinets and shelves lined up against the left of the room. According to him, he did not let Luca touch the files since he filed for a one year leave prior to his engagement with his boyfriend—now fiancé.

Based on his words, you quote, "With him and those files around, he won't be able to leave at all. He's far from the skittish, clumsy assistant that I knew of when he first started. He's passionate and hardworking. He's dedicated to finishing on time. He's quite the perfectionist, .. it's almost an obsession for him to perform at best. Ah— I'm rambling. Just make sure to file them per year. I bought face masks to avoid inhaling dust, it's on my first drawer on the table. Use it."

Luca probably will be reluctant to leave with work unfinished, you agree with him. So, with a mask on and a ton (you’re exaggerating) of folders and files, you began to sort each into their subjective years. A few of the files were former submissions from students throughout the years and let's say you have had a good time reading through a few funny and profound reads in between filing.

“The forbiddenness of a fruit..” You trail off, squinting. The handwriting on the paper has been smudged. You can barely make out what the rest of the sentence was. You pulled the paper closer to your eyes in hopes that, by doing so, you can see the words clearly.

“-even makes the taste of a lemon sweet’, is what it says.” A voice continues. “By Mokokoma Mokhonoana.”

The room is suddenly filled with static energy. One spark and it’ll catch fire. You hadn't realized that you were too absorbed into your work that he was right behind you already; snapping you back into reality.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

The room is on fire and you’re the only one seeing it burning.

You lifted my eyes at him in an attempt to steal a glance, and then you resigned yourself back to work.

You cleared your throat and greeted, "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Ever so polite like always, aren't you?" Andrew jests.

“Uhm, Yes..?" You reply, not sure what to say. "I'm, uh, done sorting the files from the first cabinet and it's all of the 2019 ones, Sir." Might as well give your work report instead. You hurriedly dropped the paper you were reading. While the passage was interesting like most of the submitted works, they are still not yours to mess with.

“I see.”

“Yeah.” Awkward.

"So much work done in so little time. I commend that. Here, take this."

Andrew reaches for his bag and retrieves a medium-sized can with a label named ‘Blended Brews’.

You turned to him and accepted it, seeing how it’ll be rude if you do reject it. It felt cold against your hand.

"—I was thinking of having it myself but I already picked up coffee from the main office. It's iced caramel macchiato. If you don't like it, just keep it there nonetheless. You might get thirsty." He adds, walking away to put his bag onto his desk. Stretching his arms before sitting down in his swivel chair.

You stare at the coffee he probably got from one of the vending machines for a while. Then, you responded, “Ah, y-yes. I’ll keep this for later.” You laugh sheepishly before setting it to your side. “Thank you, Sir.”

Silence follows.

If you remember correctly, he is a workaholic. Always in his office, never out, unless he has classes. While the usual professors may be glad to have their classes end, he always looks a tad bit sad whenever classes finish in your perspective.

You heave a sigh.

“You..”, Andrew began, making you glance at him. He clears his throat and continues,“-you don’t have to call me Sir or Professor, you know. We’re colleagues now, and you’re my assistant. That grants us both the privilege of calling each other by name, yes?”

That does make sense. Is it awkward for him perhaps to be called as such since you are no longer a student? Perhaps. Who knows? Another sigh follows.

“Very well,” you cleared your throat, "As you wish, Andrew.”

You did not know whether it was the way you said it but that garnered a hearty laugh from him. His eyes glistening as he shakes his head. His face is the epitome of amusement.

“With how you spoke, it almost catapults me back to the Medieval era,” His lips lifted a little to the side, forming a mischievous smile. “Are you gonna call me ‘My liege’ next, Listener?”

His gaze bore through yours, your eyes staring right into each other.

Your breath hitches.

Just like the first time your heart raced this fast. Being able to openly look at him without the fear of any other assumptions does something to you.

Andrew has always been beautiful in your eyes, and seeing him like this right now just hardens that thought in your head.

“I might?” You responded cheekily upon gathering yourself. “Or would you prefer ‘Your Royal Highness?’”

“That would be incongruent with how I am—I'd worry too much about taxes, security, and healthcare in my head, that I'll probably end up on the guillotine. Or—I'll be too strict that the commonfolk will initiate a coup against me.” Andrew chided.

“A royal advisor, then?” You grinned. You tried not to snort upon hearing the rather grim hypothesis that Andrew responded with.

“Hm, fitting. Did the option ‘troubadour’ never come to your mind?” (troubadours - lyric poet musicians who usually sing of courtly love in the 13th century). Andrew swings his chair to the left, the angle now facing towards you. He opens his mouth as if to continue further, but he closes it. Then, he says, “Nevermind. I'm interfering with your work now—”

“You'd make lovely pieces,” You interrupted as you sorted the last folders on your left. It contained nothing but old, unreadable papers so you’re keeping them for shredding later on.

“Oh? And have you read any of my work for you to hypothesize such a statement?” His voice sounds.. intrigued.

“You are a literature and history professor. Isn't that a natural assumption?”

“Touché.” Andrew chuckles, his eyes shining with interest.

The atmosphere seemed lighter now. The worries you have running in your head are just melting like glaciers underneath the sun’s direct rays.

You thought working with Andrew might be too taxing for you. You fear disappointing him now, like how you feared disappointing him with mediocre submissions way, way back when he was your literature professor.

However, thinking of it now..

It’s not so bad after all.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Watch out for part 3 SOON! 💖

#zsakuva #sakuverse #boyfriendaudios #andrew marston #strict professor #cracking the eggshell because listener is still awkward ~#my favorite boy :'(((

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siancore · 9 months

Text

After the Smoke Settles | Attoye | E | 2.4k words | AO3 Link

For Attoye Week 2023 @attoye-week

Day 2: Alternate Universe - Biker!Attuma and Party Girl Okoye

Summary: Attuma is the Sergeant-at-Arms for the Talokanil War Gods M.C. There is a tentative alliance between his M.C. and local Wakandan crime boss M'Kathu AKA The Chief. Both organizations are celebrating a year of successful partnership with one another. Attuma, new to the local chapter, sees Okoye at a party at his M.C's clubhouse. He wants to get to know her, but she is The Chief's daughter. Namor warns him not to go near Okoye because her father is overprotective and it would surely sour their alliance, but Attuma won't say no if the Wakandan beauty is interested in him -- even if it is just for one night.

Content: Unprotected sex; oral sex; hooking up; recreational drug use; drinking; drunk sex; dirty talk; language; minor violence.

The sounds of laughter and clinking drinks filled the space of the club room. Attuma stood next to his friend and new President, Namor. Ever since Attuma had come over and joined that chapter of the Talokanil War Gods Motorcycle Club as their Sergeant-at-Arms almost two months prior, he had been fitting in well. Namor ran a tight ship. They were working on forming alliances with other outfits in order to continue their operations. Having grown up together, Attuma and Namor knew and trusted one another. It was the reason why Attuma came to work with him.

They glanced around the club room, watching their brothers enjoy the party. Namor did not often throw parties, but they were celebrating a year of an alliance with the Wakandans. A year of prosperous partnerships for both outfits.

Both parties were having fun. The mood was light. Drinks were flowing, the music was good, and a few people were dancing. Attuma’s eyes fell on a group of young women at the edge of the makeshift dancefloor. A couple were Sweet Butts, and the rest were Wakandan. He watched them dance and laugh, enjoying themselves, until another young woman from the Wakandan group ambled over – scratch that – glided over.

Attuma was certain his jaw dropped at the sight of her. Big doe eyes; long braids; dark skin; and a blinding smile. She was breathtaking. She danced her way into the center of the circle of girls, twirling as she went. The yellow form-fitting dress drawing attention to her slender body and round ass. Attuma was practically salivating.

“Sakun winik,” said Attuma to Namor. “Who’s that?”

“Who?” Namor replied.

“That goddess in the yellow dress.”

Namor looked over at the dancefloor and then back to Attuma.

“Don’t go there, itz’in winik.”

“Why not? Is she someone’s Ol’ Lady? I’ve never seen her before. What’s her name?”

“Okoye.”

“Okoye,” Attuma repeated, enjoying the way her name felt on his lips.

“And she’s off limits. That’s the Chief’s daughter. He’d probably bury anyone who even looks at her.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. You know Long John Silver over at the shop?”

“Yeah, that white boy with the eyepatch? Wait, you tellin’ me the Chief knocked that kid’s eye out for lookin’ at his daughter?”

“Nah, he got into a hunting accident or some shit and lost it. But, the Chief cut off his trigger finger ‘cause he was in the club and tried to touch Okoye’s hair without her permission.”

“Fuck,” said Attuma before laughing. “Silly prick deserved that.”

“Right,” Namor replied. “No more hunting for his ass.”

Attuma laughed once more and then said, “If he even looks at my future wife, I’ll take his other fuckin’ eye.”

“Attuma,” Namor warned. “Leave her alone. We’re celebrating a year of peace with the Wakandans. Don’t fuck it up over a pretty girl.”

“Christ, brother. I’m not gonna fuck anything up. It’s cool. I won’t go near her.”

…

The party was in full swing and Attuma needed some time on his own away from the revellers. He stood out in the high-walled yard and lit a joint. A bike’s engine revved outside the gate before it opened and let someone in. A girl shrieked and then laughed off in the distance. A beer bottle smashed nearby.

Attuma took a long pull at his joint and then leaned his head against the wall of the clubhouse. The door nearest to him flung open and two people stepped out. The sound of footfalls on gravel caused him to look over in their direction.

“You need to stop!” said a young man.

“Fuck you,” the woman replied.

Attuma straightened up and narrowed his gaze. It was the Chief’s daughter, Okoye. She was being followed by some guy, who then reached out and gabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t touch me, W’Kabi!”

“We’re leaving, now,” said W’Kabi firmly as he tried to drag Okoye away.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Stop being such a brat and move your ass!”

Attuma eyes narrowed even more, he flicked his joint to the ground, and then walked towards the pair.

“Hey, Okoye, right?” he asked when he got close. “Are you okay? This asshole giving you trouble?”

She turned her head, then looked up at Attuma’s face. Before she could answer, W’Kabi spoke up.

“Fuck off and mind your business,” he spat, tugging on Okoye’s arm once more.

Attuma stared him down and then looked back at Okoye.

“You wanna take your hand off o’ the young lady?” said Attuma, inching closer.

W’Kabi let go of Okoye’s arm and poked Attuma in the chest.

“I told you to fuck off –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Attuma grabbed W’Kabi’s wrist and twisted it, causing him to groan loudly in pain.

W’Kabi bent over as Attuma leaned down and said, “Nah, I think you need to fuck off before I break your arm and your face, lil’ bitch.”

Attuma then pushed W’Kabi away, causing him to stumble, before he righted himself, threw Attuma an unimpressed look, and walked away. Attuma watched him leave, before turning to Okoye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Thank you.”

“I don’t usually step in when couples are arguing –”

“I’m not with him,” she replied quickly. “He’s just some asshole who works for my father.”

“Why was he putting his hands on you?”

“Because he thinks he has the right to as my bodyguard.”

“That bitch made motherfucker is your bodyguard?” asked an incredulous Attuma.

“Not anymore,” Okoye replied as she grabbed her phone and started to dial a number. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Attuma.”

“Hi, Attuma. Sorry, excuse me a sec. Hello?” she said into the phone. “Baba? Yes. Everything’s fine. I don’t want W’Kabi on my security detail anymore. He put his hands on me. Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

She looked down at the small patch on Attuma’s vest and then said, “The Sergeant-at-Arms of the TWG stepped in and helped me. New guy. Attuma. Yes. Baba, I’m okay, really. Attuma’s going to look after me. Sure.”

Okoye removed the phone from her ear and then looked at Attuma.

“My father would like to speak with you,” she said handing the phone over.

Attuma knit his brow but answered.

“Hello, sir? Yes. Well, the guy was yelling at your daughter and tried to forcibly drag her away. Yes. Yes, sir. I stepped in, roughed him up a little, and made him leave. No need to thank me, anyone would help like that. Yes. I appreciate you saying so. That’s fine. Happy to help. Thank you, sir. Goodnight.”

Attuma handed the phone back to Okoye. She bid her father goodnight after reassuring him she was safe and well. She looked at Attuma who stared back at her. He ran his fingers through his hair and gave her a small smile, which she returned.

“My father asked if you would wait with me until his driver picks me up. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” said Attuma.

He gestured for her to follow him to one of the picnic tables that stood over near the high wall. Okoye walked beside Attuma, and they both took a seat beside one another.

“So, how did you know my name?” she asked while positioning her body so that she was facing him.

Attuma placed both of his legs astride the bench seating. He licked his lips absently and said, “A lady like you steps in the room and a man like me finds out your name pretty quickly.”

“Alright then,” Okoye replied with a nod and a smile. “Thanks again for what you did.”

“It was nothin’. I hope these guys who work for your father all don’t think they can treat you like that.”

“They don’t,” she proffered sincerely. “Just W’Kabi. He thinks because we grew up together that things are different between us. They’re not. He’s still one of my father’s shit kickers.”

“Yeah, well, fuck him,” said Attuma, as he reached in his pocket to get another joint and his lighter. “I’m done talkin’ about that asshole.”

He lit his joint and took a deep drag before holding out to offer Okoye some. She gave him a crooked, devilish sort of smile and leaned forward. Okoye placed both hands to Attuma’s thick thighs and shifted closer. Their faces were close, and heat was radiating from both of their bodies. When Okoye’s lips neared Attuma’s, she licked them and said, “Shotgun me.”

Attuma placed his hand to Okoye’s slim waist to hold her in place. He then released the smoke from his mouth and blew it between Okoye’s lips. She closed her eyes and drew the smoke in. The effects of the drug and the headiness of being in such proximity to Okoye made Attuma’s head spin. He didn’t know how long he had been staring at her, but suddenly realized the young woman had climbed into his lap, with her legs wrapped around his hips and her arms draped over his shoulders.

“You’re pretty,” said Okoye as she ran her fingers through his long tresses.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Attuma replied, staring into the darkness of her obsidian eyes.

“We don’t have much time.”

“For what?” he asked, tightening his grip on her hips.

Okoye leaned forward and pressed her lips to Attuma’s. He deepened the kiss immediately. She pulled away slightly, and he followed her, craving more.

“For me to show you how grateful I am for you stepping in to help me.”

Attuma brought his hand up to cup Okoye’s face before he said, “You don’t have to do anything to thank me, Sweetness.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, a conspirative expression crossing her beautiful face.

“Hmm,” Attuma nodded.

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” she whispered close to Attuma’s ear. “And I really wanna do you.”

…..

As far as bad ideas went, the one that had found Attuma and Okoye in the small office felt way too fucking good. After shoving most of the papers from the desktop, Attuma laid Okoye down and sunk to his knees. She hiked her dress up and placed her legs over his shoulders.

Attuma ran his hand over the lace panties Okoye was wearing and she shivered. He stuck his fingers under the garment and then tore them from Okoye. She let out a little welp.

“I’m keepin’ these,” he said as he shoved the torn panties into the back pocket of his jeans.

Before Okoye could reply with a smart answer, Attuma had began to suck kisses to her inner thigh as he toyed with her clit. He hummed against her skin as he peppered biting kisses there. Okoye let out a moan when his lips made their way to her glistening pussy. Attuma ran his tongue over her slit and up to her sensitive nub. He sucked her clit into his mouth and hummed once more. A wave of pleasure washed over Okoye. She laced her fingers through Attuma’s hair as he ate her out. She came moments later with a shudder and his name on her lips.

…..

“Fuck – Ma, this pussy so tight,” said Attuma as he sheathed his impressive length inside of Okoye.

He had her bent over the desk with his raw dick deep between her swollen folds.

“You gonna do something about it or just stand there looking pretty?”

“You got a smart mouth on you, Sweetness,” he said sharply, as his hips snapped forward. “Won’t be so smart with this dick in it.”

He thrust forward again with more fervor, causing Okoye to whimper and curse.

“Shit – shit.”

“Fuck.”

“Wish we had time for that,” said Okoye as she threw her ass back, drawing a loud moan from Attuma’s lips. “Really wanna choke on it.”

“Fuck,” said Attuma as he grabbed at Okoye’s throat and pulled her head back while he rammed his cock into her again and again. He lifted her leg so that it was rested on the desktop as he wrapped a hand around her chest to draw her back to him. Attuma kissed Okoye’s neck and then bit down onto her shoulder, all the while he kept driving himself into her.

His orgasm was drawing nearer, and he could feel that Okoye’s was, too. She was almost crying out in pleasure as her walls clenched around his dick. Soon, she was creaming over his length and coming hard. Her well-fucked cunt drew Attuma’s aching cock deeper inside and he finally came. He didn’t pull out, but both of them were too fuck-drunk to care.

After a moment, Attuma withdrew himself and found something to clean them both up with. Okoye was still bent over the desk as Attuma fixed her clothing, and then his.

“Damn,” she said, all breathless and beautiful. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.”

Attuma let out a little laugh and then wrapped his arms around Okoye. He turned her so that she was standing and facing him. He captured her lips in a slow, sensuous kiss before running his hand up and down her back.

“That was fun,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair again.

“You were amazing,” Attuma replied.

“We should do this again some time,” said Okoye as she rested her hands on his firm chest.

“Definitely,” Attuma offered as he dipped down to kiss Okoye again. “Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”

…..

The meeting was almost at its conclusion when Namor poured himself another drink and said, “One last order of business.”

The brothers around the table gave him their attention even though some were watching the clock.

“The Chief wanted to give his formal thanks to our brother Attuma for lookin’ out for his daughter last weekend at the party.”

Some of the men patted Attuma’s shoulders.

“You did a good thing, Attuma,” said Namor. “His girl is his pride and joy. You did both of them a solid by takin’ care of her when she was on our property.”

“Any of us would’ve done the same thing,” Attuma said, leaving out the part where he had fucked Okoye within an inch of her life. “Just glad we’re in their good books.”

“You definitely are,” Namor replied. “The Chief wants to hire you as his daughter’s bodyguard. Interim bodyguard, actually.”

“What?” asked Attuma, genuinely shocked.

“Apparently you made a real impression on her,” Namor explained. “She asked her father for you specifically to look out for her until they hire someone else. You up for it?”

Attuma thought about the offer for less than a beat before her said, quite enthusiastically, “Yeah. Fuck yeah. I’m up for it. Sign me up.”

#attoye #okoye x attuma #attoye week 2023

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

Note

WIBTA for continually telling my mother to talk to my sister about getting her an ADHD diagnostic?

For context, my sister (18 F) has always shown some signs of potentially being adhd (not great with starting/completing tasks, bad at planning in advance, prone to being very spontaneous/forgetful about things she needs to get done) When complaining about how some behaviors were hindering my house/sibling/puppy sitting (eg: leaving things she needed to take upstairs on the stairs for a week so I couldn’t vacuum, not running thank you notes from her graduation party down to the mailbox that’s maybe a 2 minute walk from our house leaving a massive stack of them on our kitchen table, cooking things and not cleaning out the dishes even though I reminded her constantly to do so so that the sauces/cheese/etc wouldn’t stick to the pot, and so on.) a friend who recently got diagnosed and medicated for ADHD said she showed similar behaviors prior to medication.

My sister is going off to college out of state this fall.

My first year college experience was hell for a plethora of reasons. (The one most relevant to this post being undiagnosed autism) to the point of me dropping out of that university and taking classes at a community college closer to home so I could get a handle on things. The last thing I want is for her to go through a similar experience, especially since she’ll be farther from home than I was.

I brought these behaviors up to my mother (46 F) to get her opinion and basically she told me she also thinks my sister has some degree of ADHD. I told her she should talk to my sister about getting a diagnostic so she would have access to campus resources if she needs them.

My sister is a very stubborn person, and I am not as close to her as she is close to our mother or younger brother. The last thing I want to do is wave a finger in her face and go “You might have ADHD and should consider getting it checked out” if this would be the first time she’s hearing of it.

Unfortunately. As mentioned my sister isn’t the best at getting tasks done, and our mother is the same way unless you nag her to do it constantly. I doubt she’d be able to get a proper diagnostic by the time she’s off to school, but I want them to consider the idea so when she’s home for winter/summer break, she could have an appointment lined up for it.

I don’t intend to try to force her into doing it. But I do want her to succeed and this is the best way I can think to help her, since she’d listen more to our mother than she would me or our father. After all, the worst case scenario is that she doesn’t have it and she just goes on with her life.

WIBTA for nudging my mother and sister in this direction?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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steinfellds · 1 year

Text

She Isn't Coming Home

Pairing: Mom!WandaNat x Teenager!Reader

Summary: Thanos snapped half your family away five years ago. Five years later, half your family is still missing. Though this time forever.

Warnings: death mentions, depression, cheating, angst with no happy ending, family issues.

1.2K Words

a/n: im changing the plot of endgame a bit cause I cant be fucked to write it all out

/ masterlist / / w.n masterlist /

You were 13 years old when the Avengers lost against Thanos, causing half the universe's population to cease to exist. You still remember the horrible feeling you felt in your gut when you saw the Wakandian guard who was watching over you turn to dust.

At the time, you thought you caused the guard to turn to dust with your recently discovered powers. So you hid in a vent for half an hour until your mother, Natasha, found you.

Only 3 days later, you were told of what happened to the rest of the universe.

You cried for weeks straight about the death of Wanda, and even Natasha shed a couple of tears at the loss of her ex-wife.

Wanda and Natasha had divorced 2 years prior to the blip when Natasha found her cheating on her with Vision.

After the blip, you struggled to return to your normal life as your powers were spiraling out of control, and Natasha was forcing herself to work so she could forget the horrible things that happened.

By the time you were 14 years old, you were diagnosed with depression and were failing half your classes. You would skip school constantly to hang out with your friends and show off your powers.

The first time Natasha found out about this, she was upset and hit you with the "How would Wanda feel about this?" which broke you at the thought of your dead mother's reaction. Though slowly you started to care less and less about Wanda's reaction.

She was dead. She didn't matter anymore.

It was just you and Natasha now.

Your relationship with your mom wasn't bad. Sure, you had your ups and downs but you still loved each other dearly. Sometimes you wouldn't know what you would do if you lost her as well.

"You're telling me there may actually be a way to get everybody back?" You stared at Tony, tears filling your eyes at the hope of everybody's return.

Tony hummed, "There's a possibility of it, yes."

"But don't get your hopes too high, okay? We aren't 100% sure of it." Natasha said to you, a stern look on her face.

You nodded, "It's just crazy that after 5 years, everybody could come back."

"It's been 5 years of hell," Bruce muttered, flicking switches at the control panel in front of him.

Natasha put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump. "Sweetheart, you need to go to bed. It's getting late."

You shook your head with a small laugh, "Mom, I'm not 13 anymore. I'm 18, I make my own decisions."

Natasha raised a brow at you. You have been talking back to her a lot more often than usual.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised, making your mother smile. "Goodnight, everybody!"

It only took a couple of days for Tony and Bruce to figure out how to time travel and retrieve the infinity stones.

"Mom, why won't you let me come with you? Please, I never come on missions with you." You begged, yanking onto Natasha's suit.

"Stop acting like a whiny child, Y/n. I told you that you're staying here and Clint is coming with me."

"But, mom-"

"Y/n, drop it."

You groaned and dramatically threw your body onto Natasha. She pushed you away with a laugh.

"You're a big baby, you know that?"

"You suck." You huffed out, watching your mother walk onto the platform.

"Love you, baby." Natasha sent you a wink.

The Avengers exchanged short conversations before they stepped into the correct positions.

"See you in a minute."

A bright flash of light lit up the platform and everybody disappeared.

It was only a few minutes before everybody started reappearing on the platform, each holding an infinity stone.

"Holy shit, Tony! You actually did it." You cheered, running up to him.

"Did you seriously doubt me?" He asked with a chuckle.

You sheepishly smiled, "Maybe."

A thumping sound made you turn away from Tony. You saw Clint defeatedly sitting on his knees with an infinity stone grasped in his hand, his face stained with tears.

"Clint? W-where's my mom?" You couldn't see your mom anywhere.

"She's...I'm so sorry, Y/n." His voice cracked and he started sobbing.

"Where's my mom, Clint? What the fuck did you do?" Your eyes started to fill with tears.

"I tried to stop her, I promise I tried. Though she's always been better at fighting than me, and- and I couldn't stop her." Clint couldn't even bring himself to look at you, "She's dead. I'm sorry."

All you could do was start to sob. You didn't know what to say or do. You felt fucking horrible. The last thing you ever said to your mother was "You suck." You didn't even tell her how much you loved her, and that tore you apart.

You collapsed into Tony's arms and quietly sobbed into his chest.

The death of Natasha was heavy on everybody's shoulders. Everybody was mainly silent, only talking when needed. Nobody spoke to you or Clint; you both looked like you could break down at any moment.

After many long arguments, it was decided Bruce would snap everybody back into existence. When Bruce snapped, you were almost sure he was going to die. It filled your eyes with tears at the thought of losing another loved one today.

"Did it work?" Rocket asked softly.

A loud sound was heard outside the compound, which caused everybody to run outside. Portals started opening one after the other, revealing the once-dead heroes.

"Y/n? Baby, where are you?" Wanda's voice broke through the loud crowd.

Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, "Y/n?"

You stared at her, not really feeling anything but sadness. "Hi."

"You're so big! What happened? Why are you suddenly so old?"

"You're going to have to sit down for this." You whispered with a sad smile.

You and Wanda sat cross-legged on your bed. Both of your eyes were filled with tears.

"It's been 5 years since Thanos and Natasha is dead?" Wanda asked for the second time, still not really believing it.

You hummed, picking at the skin of your fingertips.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You still have me."

You looked at her with a confused expression, "Excuse me? What about my mom's death is okay?"

"That's not-"

"No, fuck you, honestly. My mom raised me, you were gone all my teenagehood and now you're saying this shit?" You stood up from the bed and moved away from Wanda.

"Honey, please," Wanda begged, realising she massively messed up.

"Firstly, you ruin this family by cheating on mom with a fucking toaster and now you've gone and ruined whatever family this is." You stared daggers into Wanda's eyes.

"Don't you dare call Vision a toaster."

"Mom died to bring you back! She knew how much I missed and needed you so she killed herself in order to help me." Your voice broke, "I wish you stayed dead."

"You don't mean that." She scoffed.

"Get out of my room. I don't even want to look at your face right now."

"Y/n-"

"Get out!" Your eyes flashed to a blinding white colour.

Wanda quickly scurried out of your room with tears rolling down her cheeks.

You flopped down on your bed and started to cry your eyes out. In the span of a couple of hours, you lost every important thing to you. Your mother was killed and Wanda ruined whatever relationship you were willing to build with her with a couple of words.

You had nobody. You were entirely alone.

And it really, really hurt.

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 2 years

Text

Hanging Criminals Pt 2 (Jason Todd X Brother!Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Jason Todd X Male!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: Mention of death and killing

Pt 1

Request: Hey are u willing to do a part 2 of hanging crimenals with the bat fam maybe jason trying too help him or some more angst if u want if not i understand thank u for your works anyway hard too find people who write for male readers on here nowadays

It had been a month since your adoptive father had pulled you from doing patrol and shoved you into intense therapy about your past before your adoption in the Wayne family. Progress was slow, mostly because you didn’t want to be there, but Bruce had managed to find either the most patient or the most persistent therapist in the field, because you still went, and on the days you didn’t want to go in, the therapist came to you. Either that, or Jason would literally drag you there.

You hadn’t expected Jason to be the one most involved in your so called ‘recovery’ since he understood your mindset the best. He didn’t follow the ‘no kill’ rule Bruce had, and the pair didn’t get along on most of the time, but with Bruce pulling you out of patrol, locking away your weapons and suit, literally threatening to break your leg to stop you if you still persisted, the second oldest seemed to realise something. Bruce was scared. He was genuinely terrified about what was happening with you, and was trying his goddamn hardest to stop this now rather than later, and trying to stop you on this destructive path… a little bit like how he had done with Jason when he was younger, but this time taking a lot more action.

He hated to admit it, but he saw the old man’s point of view, and he understood and agreed. Something really had to change, and instead of sitting idly like how he and the others had done previously when Bruce found out you’d hung a criminal again, he was gonna step up, be involved, and snuff this flame that was getting out of hand.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Jason called, knocking on your bedroom door, the keys to one of the cars in his hand, his phone in the other, checking his messages, especially the one that Alfred had sent him with the time you had to be at your session, and the time he recommended he set off with you to ensure you got there in time. Jason chose to bother you to be ready 10 minutes before that set off time since he knew from experience that he would probably have to push and poke at least to get you to go.

Today seemed to be no different. After a few second with no response, Jason hit his fist against the door, and waited a few more seconds, before he tried the door, finding it open and he opened the door, swinging it open. He leant on the doorframe, looking inside, finding you sat on the edge of your bed upright, head slightly tilted down, mostly ignoring the presence of your brother in the doorway. The look in your eye was… hard to read. There was an anger behind them, but accompanied by your slumped shoulders either showed frustration or defeat. He had understood your feelings. He knew you had heard the news.

“He’s gonna kill someone.” You finally spoke up. The person in question was an elusive man you had been practically stalking for weeks prior to Bruce effectively grounding you, and when Bruce had put the others onto your cases, you had tried to get Jason on that specific case, but when Bruce saw that he instead took it upon himself. Surprise surprise, he caught the man in the process of searching for a victim. Bruce dropped him off with the police, but since he had a brother who was high up in law enforcement, he got out scott free last afternoon, all charges dropped. “He’s gonna kill who knows how many people before people realise what he’s doing, and they’re not gonna believe it’s him… so many innocent lives ruined, so many families without answers of who took aware their loved ones, all because no one ultimately stopped him. All because Bruce is too much of a coward.” You spat.

“...I know Y/N. I’m pissed off too. Guess you heard me screaming at him last night about it?” Jason asked, getting a small hum in response. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll keep an eye on him for you off the record, and if I see anything, I’ll put a stop to it.” Jason promised you.

“If you see anything. It is completely possible that he’s already acted. You can’t watch him all the time.” You brushed off. “I’m not going to therapy today.”

“You have to, if you want to do patrols again.”

“You and I both know Bruce has no intentions of letting me patrol again.”

“And I think he’s an idiot for it. He should know by now that fully revoking you from doing a job he himself trained you to do will only make you act out and go against him. I’ve talked to the others about it, and they agree. We’re gonna hound the old man to let you patrol but with one of us to get started again, and if he still says no, I’ve pulled a few strings to get you out of the city for a while,you just have to promise to lay low until we convince him to calm down and actually work with you. But you have to work with us as well.”

You looked up at your brother finally, not saying anything at first, thinking about his offer to you, but ultimately knowing that what he and your other siblings were offering was much better than what your dad was, and that it was far more fair, and far less of a sacrifice for you. “Alright. I’ll behave.”

“Good. Now come on.” Jason pointed his head out of the door, and with far less resistance, you stood and followed him out.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @freyathehuntress @theplacewhererobindied @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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kasienda · 4 months

Note

tell us about Adrino fake-dating? 👀👀👀

Adrino lends itself to this trope so well in my opinion in that they are super comfortable in each other's spaces, and Nino is generally on board to do anything and everything to 1) earn Adrien more freedom, and 2) piss off Gabriel.

My personal beef with fake-dating is that it's often written where two characters are already in love and already KNOW they're in love, but are too nervous to say anything yet. And I struggle with the whole thing being able to solved at any point with one conversation. (Though it doesn't stop me from reading or enjoying them. Just makes me want to tear my hair out when reading! Haha!)

BUT! If I'm writing my own, I wanted to explore them both not having feelings yet (or at least not being aware of said feelings), and that they figure it out through the process of pretending! And when it's time for it to end, they both realize they really really don't want it to.

So I started writing one. And I'm not sure if I will every finish or post it because it kinda feels like a generic romantic dramedy to me? I feel like I just am making the dolls kiss! Haha! Like, it's an aged up no-powers AU. I don't usually write things without identity shenanigans! And I don't have anything unique to add to this trope at the moment, BUT I've been having fun with it this week especially since I've been home sick. So maybe!!

...

Here! Take my whole opening scene:

“Tomorrow's photoshoot was rescheduled to Thursday morning, your father canceled dinner tonight, but promises he’ll be available tomorrow—“

Adrien snorted.

“And you’re to escort Lila Rossi to the gala this Saturday as her date.”

Adrien dropped his spoon. “That will not be happening. I will go to the gala, but Lila Rossi will not be my date.”

“Your father agreed to—“

“Any agreements my father made on my behalf are null and void if he didn’t get me to sign the contract.”

One of the benefits of reaching his majority. Now, if only he didn’t need his father to keep paying for university.

“Adrien, I know you don’t like Lila—“

That was an understatement if ever there was one.

“—but your father is not going to take your refusal lightly without any repercussions. Especially if you offer no explanation.”

He had offered an explanation. Lila Rossi was a snake and Adrien knew better than to let her anywhere close to him.

“It’s only one evening,” Nathalie continued.

One evening that would turn into many. But he could read between the lines. Nathalie needed a reason. His father wanted him to date someone now that he was old enough for it to garner media attention instead of generate a scandal.

“You don’t understand, Nathalie. I can’t bring Lila because I already have a date.”

It wasn’t true, but it could be.

Nathalie sighed. “And does this date have a name?”

Adrien contemplated dodging the question. He would have preferred to ask before he dragged any of his friends into the spotlight that might include his father’s ire, but Nathalie would argue on his behalf better if she didn’t think he was lying.

He wished he could ask Kagami, but she and Felix had gone public two months prior. He couldn’t throw Marinette under this bus because her career in fashion was only just beginning and getting tangled with his name would only make things more complicated for her. He was already providing her with all the connections and contacts she would let him, and he didn’t want to bring attention to that special attention by bringing her in as a date. Alya was attending university in the UK, and Luka was on tour with his father in the US.

Which only left him one option anyway. And in many ways it was the best option because Nino was the most willing to do whatever was needed to get Adrien out from under the thumb of his father.

Adrien glanced down into his hands, trying to sell nervousness that he absolutely did not feel. “I can tell you since you’ll know on Saturday anyway, but Nathalie, I’m hoping I can count on you for support.”

She actually looked up from her tablet. A good sign.

“It’s Nino,” he said softly.

“Nino Lahiffe?”

Adrien nodded.

“Doesn’t M. Lahiffe have a girlfriend?”

Adrien shook his head. “Not since Alya left to go abroad. They decided they didn’t want to do a long distance relationship.”

That much was true. The break up had been amicable.

“And how serious is this relationship?”

Fuck. It needed to be serious for Nathalie to pull out all the stops, but how long would Nino put up with the song and dance of it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I hope we last, but we haven’t been dating that long. So far though, it’s been amazing! Nino and I have always just… clicked, you know?”

“I will do everything in my power to see that you get a fair chance.”

He swallowed at the sincerity in her voice.

“Thank you, Nathalie.”

She nodded and left.

He whipped out his phone and pulled up Nino’s contact. Nino wouldn’t likely be awake for another few hours so Adrien wasn’t going to call him, but Adrien could at least warn him.

…

Nino’s phone buzzed on the table beside his head. Nino groaned and rolled over - away from his phone. He really should have kept up his maman’s policy of charging his phone in the other room.

But an alarm clock was yet another thing Nino really couldn’t afford since he had moved out on his own. He was barely breaking even as it was.

The phone buzzed again and he sighed, fumbling blindly for both it and his glasses.

He blinked dumbly at the text on his screen, and then read it again.

Adrien:

I had to tell my father that we’ve been dating. That we’re going to the gala together this Saturday. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to surprise everyone the day of. Please forgive me. Call me when you’re awake.

The implications were concerning in more than one way.

Nino tapped out a response immediately.

Nino:

there’s nothing to forgive, love. It was bound to happen eventually. I still need help with my suit though if you’ve forgotten. Can we talk in person? I miss you.

Adrien:

I’ll be by in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you. ❤️

Adrien was laying it on thick. Definitely not a good sign.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #adrino #fake dating #fic preview #sneak peek #my own content #wip ask game #ask me anything

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wanderlust1979 · 10 months

Text

This may have gotten away from me. I got the idea while watching reruns of the Rookie while under the influence!!!

I’d really love feedback.

“ I’m not sure you know how pregnancy works!”

Chenford

Pairing:Lucy Chen/Tim Bradford

Rating: PG

“How many kids do you want?” Lucy possess the question.

“3, you?” No hesitation in his answer.

“At least.” Lucy agrees like it’s the most obvious answer.

He smiles “Let’s have one soon?” Tim asks in earnest.

Lucy’s mouth falls open, surprised.

Tim ponded his next words. “I’m thinking in maybe 4 months.”

Lucy’s head snaps up to look into his eyes. “Tim I’m not sure you know how pregnancy works. “

He shakes his head. “ I say what I just did and my grasp of knowledge about pregnancy is what disturbs you most. “ giving a look of disappointment “ Not that we’ve been dating less than 3 month and Im asking for kids without a commitment discussion, most women would have zoomed in on that.”

“I’m not most women!” She returns a disappointed look and gives a cheeky smile. “ And we have talked about our future children and grandchildren since date number 2” she gets serious, “ I have never felt about anyone, ever, in my whole life, felt for someone the way I do about you.”

“Love” he whispered

She tiled her head to be side and smiled softly at him,tears in her eyes. “Duh!” She teases bonking him on the head, she rolls here eyes as she rushes on before the mood shifts away from serious. “But more than that. I don’t doubt us. I don t question that we will conquer any obstacle that comes our way. It’s like I needed the best parts of you to fill the worsts parts of me. “ she hopes he understands what she’s saying, continuing to explain “ where I have opportunity, you help me see another way to see things so I can do better. “ she drops his gaze seeing confusion cross his face.

But slowly understanding what she’s saying, he begins speaking. “Like how you opened my eyes to how I behaved towards cops like Stanton, your words that day spoke to me and a way I had never thought, to see something slowly expanded and I started getting glimpses of the bigger picture as the view zoomed out actions or images hung just previously out of my prior sight. “ He’s gripping her upper arms, firmer with each work spoken as her realizes more and more the meaning behind their words, both of them.

She smiles up at him realization dawns, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Yeah.” Nodding her head. “It just is a fact. Like I know my body will breathe for me. I just know. “. She now holding on to his biceps

They are just holding each other as they look into each other’s eyes. Lucy smiles “ so that’s why my 1st thought was concern for your understanding of how pregnancy’s work.”

He shakes his head in agreement “ Ok,” his eyebrow raises in concession “Fair. “ he rolls his eyes. “Anyway what I was saying was we should ask Tamara if she would agree to let us adopt her. “. He raises his hands to pause Lucy from speaking. “I know. I know she’s almost 20, beyond legal adoption age, but she’s family and I want it be in an official way. Cold hard proof for her, us, the universe …” he shrugs “whom ever, we are family, no matter what. “

Lucy’s eyes teared up again as a smile sprung up on her face, a small giggle coming with it. “Ok, ok, ok, k.” She twists her lip between her teeth, “ I really love it! But, I wanna be sure we honor her parents when we present this to her. It’s not about us trying replace her mom and dad, but”

Tim picks up where Lucy leaves off.

“But that we want to help be there for her going forward. She will be the big sister to future kids. Our oldest. And if she has kids they will be our grandkids and we will spoil them!” Plans formulating in his head as he pictures it.

“Yeah” she says softly, dreamily.

They smile at each other for a bit longer before speaking again.

“Let’s ask her at dinner next week. We pick her up from LAX when she get back from her backpacking trip in Europe and I know she will be craving Pinks!”

He smiles at Lucy’s suggestion. “Ah. Your are an evil genius. Fill her full of her favorite food and she won’t be able to turn us down!”

In the end Tamara agrees, happily, without a belly full of bribes. She admits she has never really doubted that they care for her. But it’s always scared her, someday, she would loose them. They’d want to move in together and inadvertently leave her behind. She feared at first they’d stay in touch. Dinners here and there, occasional coffee meet ups with Lucy. A sporting event with time a time or two. But she figured at some point all of it would phase out. They’d loose touch and she be on her own again.

Tim put her mind at ease quickly when he pulled up a listing for the place he wanted to purchase with Lucy. It was a few block from his sister Genny’s new place. It came with a detached garage featuring an in-law suit. He and Lucy hadn’t officially discussed it, but Tim knew the seller and had got them to agree to hold of listing it until he could show his girls.

His girls, which is how he referred to Lucy and Tamara to anyone and everyone. That’s what they were, his. And he was theirs. In two different ways. But his heart belong to them both. Lucy would be his love, his life his future. Tamara was is daughter and had him wrapped around his finger.

#fanfic #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford

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bandizoi · 2 years

Text

Long post warning.

I’ve put off writing this here for a long time but this was one of my first large social media audiences and you all have been so kind and involved in my journey. I am writing about it here because everyone who is looking at getting a borzoi should be aware of this.

TW: pet death

On April 18th, exactly one year after I brought Selkie home from Texas, I found her dead in my yard, what we call “sudden death”. 13 days prior, her sire passed away from sudden death as well. He was nearing 6 years of age. Selkie was 14 months old. I don’t have it in me to write it all out, all over again, but I did make a blog post about it on my website here.

Sudden death is something that can affect different breeds but looks different from one breed to the next. In borzoi, we are looking at fatal cardiac arrhythmias. One moment they are with us and then, just as the name describes, they are suddenly gone. Because this is an electrical issue in the heart, necropsies often look completely normal. A normal necropsy is the hallmark of borzoi sudden death. Selkie and her sire’s necropsies looked normal.

Unfortunately we don’t have a way to differentiate the arrhythmias that borzoi can survive, from the ones that are fatal. We know this is genetic, but we don’t have a genetic test for it. We can do 24 hour holter monitors to see a snap shot in that moment of whether a dog is having arrhythmias or not. But, a dog can have 0 abnormalities during that 24 hours and then several in the next day, weeks, months, years. There are dogs that have hundreds of arrhythmias in 24 hours and live normal lives. There are dogs that have 1 or 2 and then drop dead the next day. It sucks. It’s horribly traumatic for everyone who loves the dog. The silver lining is that it is a very quick way for them to go. There are anti arrhythmic drugs that can reduce arrhythmias and that’s something that can be discussed with a cardiologist.

Holter tests aren’t part of the required CHIC testing for the breed, but I strongly encourage anyone who is thinking about getting a borzoi to ask every breeder:

How many holters has the breeding pair had (I personally will be doing at least 3 before making breeding decisions).

Ask the breeder to SEE the results. An absolutely ideal holter has zero singles, pairs, runs, complexities. Anything over 10 VPCs makes me squirm. Over 50 is considered abnormal per the large breed guidelines.

Where has sudden death occurred in the pedigree

Prospective borzoi owners asking this of their breeders is likely the best possible way to encourage more breeders to do this.

If you own a borzoi and you want to holter test them, there are a few reduced cost options. Members of the Borzoi Club of America can rent a holter— info here. Any borzoi owner can rent a holter from the Borzoi Health and Welfare Foundation— info here. If you want to purchase your own holter monitor, you can do so through alba medical.

We have 3 cardiac studies in the works to try to somehow get a handle on this thing. The borzoi club of america has a holter study. Texas A&M University has an echocardiogram study. And Dr. Kelly at Penn State is studying the hearts of dogs who had sudden death. Because we now have a direct line from sire to daughter of sudden death submitted to the study, including lung samples for gene sequencing, we may be a bit closer to getting a handle on the genetics behind this.

And as I mentioned in my linked blog post above this is not yet so prevalent that owners should expect their dogs to die of sudden death. Which is why it’s so important for the community to be proactive, now. Before it becomes unavoidable. I’m writing all of this not to scare people out of the breed, and I truly hope I don’t. But I do want everyone to be aware of this if they are considering a borzoi. I would be in a much darker place if I didn’t know what I was looking at when I found Selkie in my yard.

#TW: pet death #pet death #dog death #Selkie #sudden death #borzoi

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noodilyhooligan · 5 months

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My nightmare trip: a summary

At this point I need a bingo card because this trip has been horrific and I'm ready to go back to the US. It's every day y'all, not one day has passed without some bullshit happening.

First, I'm dropped off in the middle of the road by my taxi driver, and had to find my way to some Wi-Fi to contact my host. The owner of the store got mad because I wouldn't buy a phone, and my host was forced to translate.

I can't use my credit or debit cards unless I order online. No atm has worked with them. It's apparently a well known problem with tourists in Vietnam, and I can't get cash. 90% of stores only take cash meaning I can't buy anything.

Second night something bit all over my arms. I thought it was bed bugs but it never happened again. The bites are still here almost two weeks later.

I then stubbed my toe so hard that skin broke and my toe nail turned black. Good times.

A few nights into the trip, an animal got stuck in my roof. Every night, it tries to escape, so I'm woken up around 2:00am-3:00am as it bangs around.

Yesterday afternoon the power went out. The water is connected to the power, so I had no water or electricity. It's winter friends, I was freezing, my devices were dying and I still can't get a sim card because I have no useable money. I walked to the store, texted my host and got no answer. So I sulked back and hoped I'd hear from her in the morning. She sent people that night, thankfully.

This morning, whilst singing Christmas songs and changing, the host’s mother walked in (after unlocking my gate and front door) without prior mention of her coming, so she got a full view of my boobs and horrified face. A gift for her, a trauma for me.

I'm about five seconds from taking my ass back to America. It's like the universe saw I was having too much fun and said “Naw babe we gotta get some bad things going 🙂”

#travel nightmare #horror story #ahhhHHHHH #personal

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justminawrites · 11 months

Text

Where The Stars Collide - Chapter 2: Cana

AO3

Summary: Cana makes a bet. tw: Implied/referenced alcohol abuse; also general creepy drunk man behaviour (nothing that didn't happen in the anime)

prologue | 1 | 2 | TBC

Cana Alberona needed a drink.

Something much much stronger than mead, and enough to really get her hammered. Cana had been drinking since noon– no she didn’t have a problem and it was just the lighter stuff really; that was until her dead friend returned and nearly sent her into the underworld with a bone-crushing embrace.

“Cana!” Lisanna had squealed before jumping her, “It’s been so long!”

Cana had never been closer to quitting alcohol in her whole life.

Visions were one thing but the friend she hadn’t seen in five years nearly choking her in a hug in front of the whole guild? Nope. She was never drinking mead, no— ale, rum, water– she was never drinking anything ever again.

Cana sighed and absentmindedly twirled the empty goblet in her hand round and round. She should be happy.

Natsu and the others rescued Lisanna from someplace called Edolas where magic was apparently non-existent, or something, Cana hadn’t been listening. She’d only managed to stomach about 3% of the reunion before putting aside her empty mead barrel, and hightailing it out of Fairy Tail.

The rain accompanied her as she aimlessly wandered from bar-to-bar, only to have the door shut in her face each time; although Cana had garnered a fearsome reputation as a Fairy Tail member, nearly every bartender within a five mile radius had other reasons to be distrustful of the dark-haired wizard – namely her alcohol not-problem.

She’d finally sought refuge in a homely inn just on the outskirts of the city– the old innkeeper took pity when she’d seen the wizard slicked with rain, shivering in cobblestone alleyway – and forked over whatever jewels she had on her for a bed and another unsatisfying drink, but Cana’s monstrous thirst was particularly unquenchable tonight.

Motioning for another refill, she stared into her sad reflection as the mead slowly rippled into the goblet; finally reaching the conclusion that her sour mood probably had more to do with what Gramps said that very morning.

The old man had pulled her aside to hand her a notice with the guild’s sigil stamped in the far right corner, and the unmistakable scrawl of Fairy Tail’s strongest wizard detailing his intent to return. Cana had dropped the paper in surprise.

Gildarts Clive was coming.

“I wanted you to be the first to know,” Makarov had said, giving the top of her head a kind pat as she’d scrambled to pick up the paper with one hand and hide her tears with the other. After seven long years, her father was coming home.

Cana spent the rest of the day in a daze, unable to read even her cards properly (though not for lack of trying) until she reverted to alcohol to take the edge off. But then Lisanna showed up and all the alcohol in the world couldn’t keep Cana’s world from falling apart around her.

Cana always thought she was good under pressure. Sure, she had her vices but who didn’t, right? She’d kept her worry for her guild mates during the Oracieon Seis debacle at bay, and even strong-armed her way through everything that happened with Laxus and the Thunder Palace. The only time she lost her cool was when–

“Wake up! Why don’t you admire your handiwork ya traitor! You’re patheti–“

Cana sucked her teeth guiltily, recalling Gray’s drooping shoulders, the hardness on his face as Daphne and her Dragonoid terrorised the city.

She should’ve trusted him, the boy she’d grown up with would never have betrayed his guild for any reason, but Magnolia had only just recovered from a certain lightning dragonslayer’s reckless threats weeks prior and Cana had been looking for someone, anyone, to blame. They’d never expected– she’d never expected to fight Laxus; Laxus was as much her family as Natsu and Erza. As Gray.

It was though the universe had quite literally flipped on its head; her family were becoming enemies at the drop of a hat, while their enemies were being treated like family – and though she would forever be indebted to Juvia for her willingness to fight with Fairy tail, Cana wondered what Gramps was thinking when he let Gajeel in– after all he did to Lucy, to Levy.

Suffice to say she’d been looking for an emotional punching bag to relieve her of all that betrayal, and Gray’s unwarranted alliance with Daphne was the icing on the whipped cream of crap that’d become her life. She’d tried to apologise, in her own way, but Gray just waved it off – somehow that hurt more than if he’d never forgiven her at all.

He had a right to be angry. After all, if anyone should’ve known better, if anyone should’ve trusted him irrationally, it should’ve been her. Especially after everything they’d been through.

Cana blinked to see her tumbler once again painfully empty, and the sour taste of mead coating the back of her throat. She sighed; dredging up the past wouldn’t do either of them any good now. And it certainly wouldn’t stop her father from returning.

“Why hello there, pretty lady.”

Ugh. Cana’s lips curled distastefully as a man pulled up a barstool beside her and the sickly sweet croon of flirting trickled into her ear. Normally, she would jump at the opportunity to stuff down her emotions with drunk sex but she was hardly drunk and with the sloppy smile her neighbour was giving her, she doubted he was any good at the latter.

“No thanks,” she grunted, shifting away from him imperceptibly, the creak of her wooden chain echoing into the empty bar.

“Now, hold on a minute,” He scooted closer, the sweaty musk of some undoubtedly cheap perfume-oil pinching at her nose, “Don’t tell me you intend to keep all that lovely mead to yourself.”

“Why not?” She retorted, clutching the barrel protectively, “I paid for it.”

“Haven’t you heard of the saying that a drink has never tasted sweeter than the one you share it with?”

Cana rolled her eyes and turned to face him. This was her first proper look at the intruding man, and if she were in any better mood she’d have to admit she’d have slept with him without a second thought. Broad-shouldered, well-muscled, dark-hair, significantly older than her; it was like checking off a list.

“I’m Bacchus,” he gave her another saccharine smile when he noticed her sizing him up, “Often compared to the god of wine in my hometown.”

Cana snorted.

“Is that right?”

“I assure you,” he moved closer and motioned to her mead barrel, “–no one’s been able to beat me at a drinking contest yet.”

Cana found that hard to believe- despite his reservations, the man looked like a lightweight if she’d ever seen one. All brawn and no brains; they were usually the quickest to fall.

“I’m a member of Quatro Cerberus,” Bacchus continued, “I take it you’ve heard of us.”

“Nope,” She retorted, shifting away again in the hopes that he would get the hint and just leaver her the hell alone.

“We seem to have got off on the wrong foot,” he refused to tale the hint, “–why don’t we make a bet?”

Cana had a pretty good idea where this was going.

“You want to try and out-drink me?”

The idea was so ludicrous she might’ve laughed in his face if she were any less wary.

Now there weren’t many things Cana was proud of, but her wild teenage years had blessed her with an ironclad liver and a tolerance so high she’d have to toe the line between alcohol poisoning and death to really have a good night out. She was the reason there was a law in Magnolia stating bartenders were required to cut-off Fairy Tail wizards after their fifth barrel.

“No,” Bacchus held out his hand for her to shake, “I want you to try to out-drink me.”

If it were any other night, she would’ve got up and left by now. Normally she had no patience for arrogant asses who seemed determined to make fools of themselves but the thought of going back to the guild hall and facing everyone, facing Lisanna – Lisanna who hadn’t been there for the last five years; who hadn’t seen just how much of her grief Cana had chosen to drink away; Lisanna who’d stayed the exact same, bright-eyed and beautiful while her own heart shrunk unto itself – seemed even more unbearable.

“Fine,” she held out her hand hesitantly, seeing the dark glint in Bacchus’ eyes, “–what’re we betting on?”

“Just each other’s company,” He grinned, squeezing it, “But there’s a catch.”

She raised an eyebrow as Bacchus reached into the folds of his shiny purple, beetle-esque armour to pull out two metal flasks of liquid and held one out to her. Cana looked at him quizzically.

“Lotus-wine,” He explained, uncorking one with the flick of his finger, “A specialty where I’m from. I find mead to be too light for my stomach.”

Cana knew her alarm bells should be going off right now but the smell of the lotus-wine was strangely intoxicating in its newness, and the restlessness she’d been feeling all night was momentarily satiated by the unfamiliarity.

“I hope you’re ready to lose.”

Bacchus only nodded, watching her hungrily. Fingers closing around the flask, Cana tipped her head back and swallowed.

She was floating.

The wine had a vaguely sweet, berry-like flavour but everytime she tried to narrow down the offending fruit, it slipped off the tip of her tongue and sent her careening into a memory she’d desperately been trying to avoid.

She scrabbled at her lucidity for purchase as her vision blurred and tilted, the amber glow of the bar lights and poignant purple of her partner’s armour bleeding into one another to create the reddish-brown hue of her father’s hair.

And suddenly, Cana was in a memory.

It was the winter of X778; she remembers it well because it was the day she’d decided to tell Gildarts the truth.

She was his daughter.

It was Cana’s most well-kept secret, something she hadn’t dared to say out loud even to herself (in case she might bring about a stray jinx), and not a soul at Fairy Tail suspected as much. The only two people who knew were the ones it was impossible to hide anything from, namely Gramps, and the one friend she’d chosen to tell in confidence, Gray Fullbuster.

(Natsu found out by accident but Cana managed to convince him that the reason she and Gildarts smelled alike was because they’d both been cursed by a pixie and he could at no point bring it up with his mentor or the curse would become permanent.)

Cana wore her best dress, and rehearsed her lines over and over: “Cornelia Alberona was my mother. She fell sick and told me to find you before she died. I came to Fairy Tail to find you, Dad.”

She’d even consulted the cards, and they guaranteed that today would be the most auspicious day to receive news about long-lost family. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Cana woke up bright and early, and waited in the guild hall at a quarter-past-ten: that was when Gildarts and Natsu usually returned from their training. (In hindsight, she was far more jealous of Natsu than she’d let on, after all, Gildarts may have been a great mentor but he was her father first).

Sure enough, the two burst in through a random wall, arm-in-arm, faces mirroring a devious grin, despite Natsu’s sporting a purple bruise that would disappear by lunchtime.

“Hello, there!” Gildarts greeted her the way he always did, one arm on her head to ruffle her hair, and a gentle smile. No more, no less. She often wondered wether it was wrong for her to ask for more.

“Uhm– I–“ Cana stumbled over her words, her mind suddenly blank as the most powerful wizard in Fairy Tail paused and looked back expectantly, waiting for to continue. The words Cornelia.. sick.. find.. Dad.. all tangled up in her throat and what came out instead was,

“I’m Dad– don’t become sick, you might find Cornelia too!”

Gildarts looked at her bemusedly, but before could open his mouth to ask what the heck she’d meant by that, Natsu tugged at his cape so hard, he ripped a piece right off and went flying into a wooden bench.

“Ow!” The pink-haired boy whined, rubbing his head before earning a sharp smack from Erza on the exact same spot and rushing to hide from the “Monster" behind his mentor. Gildarts picked him up, momentarily forgetting her blunder (forgetting her), and hoisted the little dragonslayer onto his shoulders, who for his part, spent the next ten minutes crowing about his newfound vantage point by taunting his redheaded adversary.

Cana sighed. Guess today wasn’t the right day after all.

“What’re you moping about,” a dark-haired boy interrupted her wistful mumbling, “I can see your sappiness from all they way over there.”

Cana felt her mood lighten as she looked up into equally dark eyes, now flickering with concern.

“And I can see your underwear,” She snickered, having the pleasure of seeing is face go from stoic to horrified in a matter of seconds. Once Gray had located his pants, and Cana had set up her impromptu fortune-telling booth on one of the bar tables, he joined her in keeping watch over the rest of the guild’s shenanigans.

The two of them had drifted together, against all odds, by being excluded from the rest of their guild since they were still children. They wouldn’t be invited to missions or after-parties and hence ended up around the guild-hall with nothing much to do. Cana hadn’t wanted to be friends at first, the clothes-stripping weirdo was the last person she’d seek out voluntarily, but over the years, found that she hadn’t minded his company. And it seemed to be mutual.

“So, did you tell him?” Gray asked, crossing his arms over his shiny, new guild-mark. Envy shone in Cana’s eyes but she tried her level best not to stare.

“How did you get Gramps to approve the guild-mark,” Cana said instead, “I thought you need to be at least 17 to be a licensed wizard in Magnolia.”

“Ah, this?” He puffed up his chest, pride shining out of every 12-year-old cell in his body, “He said I was ready to have mine.”

“You begged him didn’t you,” She suppressed a smile as Gray’s shoulders went taught.

“Did not,” He sniped, but watched quietly as she laid out the blue deck of oracle cards in front of her in neat lines.

“Did you steal the guild-stamp then?” Cana was only joking but when she saw Gray absentmindedly rubbing the silver cross necklace around his neck (a tell), she gasped, sending a few cards scattering over the wooden floorboards.

“You did!”

“Not on purpose! Natsu dared me to do it!”

“That IS on purpose, you idiot!” Cana groaned and put her head in her hands; when Gramps heard about this they’d all be in trouble. Natsu, Erza, even Lisanna! When one of them was in trouble, all of them were: Fairy Tail motto through and through. And Laxus would give ‘em all hell for it.

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll never know,” Gray shrugged off her nagging and bent over to pick up the fallen cards.

"Sure,” She rolled her eyes, “I bet you can’t keep your clothes on for more than 10 minutes!”

“My clothes ARE on!”

“For NOW!”

“What’s all this about clothes now?”

Cana only just kept herself from gasping out loud as Gildarts’ rumbling voice interrupted their tiff; the wizard then bent over to pick up the final card and lay it on top of the wooden bar table: The Emperor .

Even Gray fell quiet at the sight of the man, awestruck by the raw magical energy that seemed to fill the room with his presence even before he arrived. Gildarts knelt to be eye-level with the children and smiled.

“Now, I remember you trying to tell me something little-miss,” he said kindly, looking at Cana.

“Are you sure you have to leave so soon?” Master Makarov interrupted scurrying at Gildarts’ heels, before she could open her mouth.

“I’m afraid so, Master,” he replied, his face taking on a hardened edge Cana hadn’t seen before, “The beast is too cunning to be slain by normal means; only brute force will work.”

Master Makarov gave a deep sigh and squeezed his guild member’s shoulder.

“Remember what I said to you earlier,” Makarov’s voice took on an almost threatening tone, “–you will always have family here.”

Cana watched their back an forth in confusion, suddenly clapping her hands together as an idea came to her.

“I can read your fortune!” She said excitedly, reshuffling The Emperor card into the blue deck in front of her.

Makarov and Gildarts exchanged a look.

“I haven’t heard those words in a long time,” Gildarts said finally, turning back to her, “– tell me, little girl, was your mother a fortune-teller too?”

“Yes! Corn– uh– cornfields! She used to work in the cornfields in the countryside which is where she learned to read..”

Gray shook his head as if to say ‘smooth.’

“I- uh- I see,” Gildarts nodded awkwardly like what she’d said made perfect sense.

“Anyway,” Cana tried to move on from the hiccup, “Just give me a second.”

She closed her eyes and focused on the small, paper panels of the cards, the runes inscribed onto them and breathe in, breathe out, breath in...

Cana held in a grin as she heard Gray catching his breath at the new party trick she’d learnt specially to impress her father. The cards had begun to glow a faint blue, and float around her in gentle circular patterns with three main ones flipping over to tell the fortune.

She opened her eyes, pleased to find both Gildarts and Gramps clapping obediently, while Gray’s expression had already soured.

“What does it say?” Gildarts prompted.

“You’ll finish the mission very quickly and be back home in a jiffy!” Cana affirmed. The S-class wizard laughed then, gently ruffling her hair again, before taking his leave. A spark of what felt like panic seized her chest, all of a sudden.

“Let’s hope you’re right little–“

“Cana.”

“Hm?” He turned in confusion.

“My name’s Cana. Cana Alberona.” She said matter-of-factly, waiting to see a glimpse of recognition in Gildarts’s impenetrable gaze.

“Well, then,” He smiled knowingly, “Let’s hope you’re right Little Cana Alberona.”

And then her father was gone.

Cana felt herself drift back into the present reluctantly; that hadn’t been the entire memory, there was still more that happened after Gildarts left, but she found herself dipping in and out of the current like a leaf, until it completely swept her back onto shore, back into the ochre glow of the inn on the outskirts of Magnolia.

Cana found that though she’d regained consciousness, the lotus-wine had quite literally swept her off her feet; she was lying on the wooden floorboard, at the foot of her barstool, objectively and inexcusably drunk.

Her pride was more wounded than she was. This is what the great Cana Alberona had been reduced to? For shame.

The memory had left her feeling light-headed, so much so that she didn’t notice Bacchus leaning over her curled up frame in triumph, holding what looked like a turquoise-blue flag.

“Looks like I win,” he crooned, waving the flag in front of her eyes, “Guess I’ll be taking this as a trophy, pretty lady.”

Cana didn’t think much of it, the aftermath of the wine and memories demanded she sleep it off, even here, on the inn’s wooden floorboards; until she turned to fold unto herself and made the shocking revelation that her bra was missing.

Her.. Bra.. Was..

Oh that wasn’t a turquoise flag he was waving in her face, it was her–

Cana’s eyes flashed open, arms protectively clutching at her naked chest; just in time to see the door swing open and Bacchus’s big, broad-shouldered frame fly backwards and hit the wall with a sickening crack of broken bone.

Gray Fullbuster stood at the entrance, his dark eyes flashing with unbridled rage.

Next Chapter ->

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elsanna-shenanigans · 6 months

Text

November/October 2023 Contest Submission #2: Water the soil

Words: 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: n/a

The grow room was bright and humid, but it was also quiet, save for the hum of the grow lights and fans. Elsa slid her backpack from her shoulders and placed it on one of the chairs surrounding the small working table in the middle of the room.

A few minutes later, after sanitizing and sliding on gloves and a mask, she seated herself at the table. A tray of young green plants lay before her — swaying slightly from the weight of the large seed pods.

That was her task today, remove the seed pods and destroy the plants so the next batch could be planted. A cycle she would repeat in a few weeks. These little sprouts were genetically modified to grow and seed quickly so experiments could produce faster results.

Elsa had just snipped off a seed pod when her phone buzzed. Thankfully she didn’t have to stop her work, Siri read out the texts in her AirPods without a pause.

“Message from Anna’’ the computer voice said before continuing to read Anna’s messages. Every line was a new message because that’s just how her sister texted.

‘Hey’

‘Good morning!’

‘Are you at work?’

‘Did you talk to your boss about an internship?’

‘The theater kids are performing on the quad in bathrobes again’

‘I really need your help with this.’

‘Let me know how it goes’

“Would you like to reply?” Siri asked and Elsa didn’t answer, the assistant timed out and her podcast resumed playing. She hadn’t spoken to her boss about getting Anna an internship for the semester yet. It wasn’t that she was scared of him saying no, more that she wasn’t sure she could handle working next to Anna for a whole semester. Especially knowing Anna, the undergrad, would be assigned to the grow room where Elsa, the grad student, worked.

Elsa, sitting hunched in the chair, snipped another seed pod. Inspecting it for a moment before placing it carefully in the tray for processing.

It would be good for Anna to get a student internship here. It’s a highly reputable lab, at an esteemed university. Truly a fantastic learning experience. And it would satisfy her credits needed to graduate.

It’s just… complicated.

Another seed pod was snipped off and the pod was dropped, perhaps with a little too much force, into the tray. Elsa sighed and leaned back in her chair, the old wood and metal seemed to sigh along with her.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe this would be good for herself. Exposure therapy was a thing right? Elsa removed her mask and stood up to pace the room. The two sisters, long since separated by a nasty divorce had reconnected at university. Prior to that Anna had only existed via social media or the occasional birthday phone call. To this day Elsa wasn’t sure it was happenstance or on purpose that Anna ended up at the same school she did, but it didn’t matter. She was here and had been for the last few years.

It was awkward at first, different then when Elsa had met online friends in real life for the first time. This was family after all, but she couldn’t ignore how her stomach seemed to flip or her heart sped up the first time she met Anna for dinner and how that kept happening every time since.

Elsa tried to lie to herself, tried to say it was just excitement to finally be with her sister again after nearly 20 years but deep down she knew there was something more.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. “Hello?” Elsa said into the phone, she hadn’t bothered checking the caller ID.

“There you are!” Anna’s voice boomed. “I messaged you over an hour ago and got no response, you good?”

Elsa glanced at her watch before answering, “Yes, just focused.” It wasn’t a lie, she just wasn’t focused on what she should be focused on.

“Well Ms. Just Focused, do you want to meet me for lunch?”

“Sure, can you let me finish this thing first?” Elsa asked, surprised she agreed so easily.

“Yeah, of course dude, I’m done for the day so I’m just sitting in the lobby upstairs studying, come grab me when you’re ready.” Anna replied and then laughed before continuing, “but don’t take too long, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, see you soon!”

The call ended and Elsa found herself smiling as she returned to the table to finish the seed collection.

***

Outside was just as bright as the grow room, only less humid. Elsa’s blonde hair remained frizzy nonetheless and she tried her best to smooth it as she walked with Anna to a little cafe just off campus. Early fall leaves crunched under their feet.

“So I tried to take 18 credits this year but one of my classes got canceled for whatever reason, so I have time.” Anna said. Her hands shoved into the pocket of her bright purple hoodie. It complimented her copper hair well, in Elsa’s opinion.

“You’re only taking five classes then?” Elsa forced herself to keep her blue eyes forward and off Anna.

“Yeah, which is why I could really use this lab job if you could help. If not, I’m going to have to do an extra semester.” She kicked a small rock out of the way. “It’s dumb.”

“It is dumb.”

A silence fell between them and Elsa felt Anna’s eyes on her, waiting for more of a response. She gave in and glanced over, Anna was taller than her by a good few inches, so upon turning, Elsa’s eyes went automatically to the younger woman’s jawline. Which seemed to be carved out of lightly tanned skin.

“Uh hi?”

Elsa blinked and cleared her throat, looking forward again. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. I can talk to my boss this afternoon.”

“Wow really? That would be amazing!” Anna did a small jump and punched the air.

“It doesn’t mean you have the job though.” Elsa frowned.

“I know, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

“What if he says no?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Anna said with a shrug. Elsa wished she could be that nonchalant about things.

The cafe door opened with the ring of a bell. It was a small place, more on the expensive side which kept the five tables mostly empty during the day. At night it was a different story, an open mic event, standing room only.

The pair settled at a table near the back, a brick wall framing them on one side. Elsa shrugged her coat off and hung it off the back of the chair. Thankfully, she had chosen to wear a simple long sleeve button up today. She was able to roll the sleeves up for the grow room, but now it was cooler so she could pull them back down.

She ignored how Anna seemed to be watching her forearms as she fixed her sleeves. It was probably all in her head anyway.

“I have two Cobb salads,” a young boy in a server uniform said, setting a plate down in front of each woman without any fanfare and walking away.

“Kinda rude,” Elsa mumbled as she picked up a fork.

“He’s like, 12, it’s fine.”

“Anyway, tell me about your weekend.”

“Oh, it was alright. Went to a party for a few hours, a bunch of freshmen were trashed and it killed the vibe. You don’t really notice how different little freshmen are from seniors. Those four years make a huge difference.” Anna said between bites.

“People do a lot of maturing in those few short years.” Elsa agreed. Anna had matured a lot too. Coming to the university as a wide-eyed kid with pigtail braids and baggy clothes, she had grown into her own. She never wore fancy clothes but they fit her body a lot better, showing off curves and she had learned to style her copper hair and do her makeup so that her blue eyes had a commanding presence.

Elsa, in contrast, hardly ever wore makeup and mostly lived in button-up shirts and lab coats. Throwing her long hair into a braid to keep it out of the way. At the very most she would wear some perfume but only because Anna mentioned liking sandalwood.

“It was weird though,” Anna continued, bringing Elsa back to the conversation. “This one girl kept following me around the party and giving me compliments.”

“Oh?” Elsa couldn’t help the ping of jealousy that rang within her.

“Yeah, but she never made a move and she was way younger so I wasn’t about to be a predator.” She laughed and Elsa shifted in her seat, uneasy.

“How much younger was she that you would have been a predator?” The older woman dared to ask, hyper aware suddenly of the three year difference between them.

“Honestly I think she was a high schooler that snuck in. Like she was a baby. I just had that elder gay energy. I don’t think she was hitting on me, I think she was just learning and exploring.” Anna took another bite of her salad.

“You’re bi though.”

At this Anna rolled her eyes. “Bi is still gay, we had this discussion.”

“I know,” Elsa pushed a piece of lettuce around on her plate.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you figure out what flag you want to fly, so to speak?”

“No, I don’t know, I haven’t thought much about it.” Elsa lied. Because she had thought about it, often. She had never liked men, not once. But she also didn’t have a lot of interest in women, it was only Anna. At that thought Elsa nearly dropped her fork. It was the first time she had fully admitted that to herself instead of dancing around the subject.

“Hmm. Okay.” Anna said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “I’m going to order us coffee because we need some caffeine.”

Elsa just nodded and fixed her eyes on something outside the window. Thankful for a moment to breathe when Anna left the table.

She can’t like Anna like that, it’s immoral, it’s wrong, it’s a problem. It should feel like grabbing a red hot coal, but it felt like opening the windows to a cool spring breeze instead. Elsa shook her head.

“One dark roast with cream and one caramel macchiato.” A server said, putting the first cup down in front of Elsa and the second in front of Anna who had only just returned to the table.

“You remembered how I like my coffee.”

“Yeah,” Anna laughed. “Super easy when it’s so boring.”

“It’s not boring! This is a classic.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s boring and bitter.”

“At least I can taste my coffee, you’re just drinking sugar.”

“You’re right and it’s delicious.” Anna lifted her mug with two hands and closed her eyes while taking a sip.

She put her mug down and reached across the table to place a hand on Elsa’s arm. Causing the older woman to stiffen and stare down at Anna’s finger nails with chipped green paint. “Can you please talk to your boss today and let me know if it’s a yes or no? Otherwise I need to figure something else out.” Anna pleaded, her voice dropping to a lower octave, causing Elsa to instinctively lean in to hear her.

“I will,” Elsa whispered for no other reason than it felt right. “I’ll let you know right away.”

Anna gave her arm a little squeeze and smiled.

***

‘Hey it’s Elsa, I talked to my boss, you can start tomorrow. Four days a week till the end of the semester, you’ll mostly be watering plants. No pay but he’ll sign the paperwork so it fulfills your credit requirement.’

Elsa finished typing the text and hit send. She rested her head back against the smooth cement walls of the science building’s interior. Her boss had readily agreed, they needed someone to water the plants and it saved him from having to go through a lengthy process to hire someone.

‘Omg! For reals?’ Anna’s text came back immediately. ‘Also I know it’s you, Elsa. You’re saved in my phone silly.’

***

“Okay, you can do this,” Elsa said to herself. She was in the grow room again, pacing while waiting for Anna to arrive. She had already laid out all the supplies and triple checked them.

She glanced at the clock for the millionth time. Five minutes.

She shouldn’t be this nervous, it was just Anna. But the fact that it was just Anna was the issue. She had feelings, she admitted, after she allowed the thought to flow freely at the cafe.

Another glance at the clock. Four minutes.

They were sisters. Sisters. Family. Blood related. Elsa just needed to get over herself. Still four minutes.

They didn’t grow up as sisters though. Did that make it better somehow? Did that justify anything? Five minutes.

“Wait.” Elsa halted her pacing and looked at the clock again, no it was three minutes, her eyes were just playing tricks on her. She let out a sigh right as the door opened.

“Don’t tell me I’m boring you already.” Anna said as she stepped into the room.

“No I was,” Elsa paused to look up. Anna was wearing boots that made her even taller than she usually was and Elsa almost had to crane her neck to see Anna’s face when she got closer. “Just uh… thinking of things.”

“Using that big brain of yours.” Anna smirked and Elsa had to turn away.

“Sooo,” she cleared her throat. “You‘ll be watering the plants, like I said. Some of them just get watered with a watering can and some you need to soak for an hour so they can pull water from the bottom.”

“Right, ok, I can do that.” Anna scribbled on a small note pad.

Elsa couldn’t help but smile to herself that the redhead was taking notes. “For the plants in the humidity chambers, you just need to make sure that the levels are good when you come in and before you leave. They get water automatically, but if there’s an issue tell me right away.” Elsa pointed to two large white freezer looking boxes with gages on the outside.

“Of course,” Anna scribbled more.

“Over here is everything you need. When you move the plants to a soaking tray you need to wear an apron and gloves. Just so the pollen doesn’t stick to you.” Elsa tried to ignore how close Anna was standing to her.

“Is the pollen dangerous?”

“No, it’s just for cross contamination reasons. Since you’re physically picking up and moving the plants.”

“So I get a funky apron and you get the sexy lab coat?” Anna asked, gesturing to Elsa’s current outfit.

Elsa nearly dropped the watering can she was about to handover, instead she turned around to fill it from the sink. “It’s not sexy, it’s just a white coat.”

“I think it’s pretty sexy.”

“Maybe one day you’ll graduate and get one yourself.”

At this Anna sighed and Elsa felt her step back. “Are we just never going to talk about it?”

“About the lab coat? You get one as part of your masters program.” Elsa turned back around and handed Anna the can, their fingers grazing. Elsa pulled her hand back and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“No,” Anna leaned over to put the watering can back on the counter. “About you, about how you’ve been acting lately… towards me.”

“You came here to work.”

“Yes, but I’m not going to work here the whole semester with you being like this. So I want to get this out of the way right away. Because if we can’t move past it, there’s no point in me staying here because I will not interfere with your work.”

“But, how will you graduate?” Elsa asked, her voice going up an octave.

“I’ll figure it out. Stop dodging the subject.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“How about this, why don’t I just ask you flat out? We can just bite this bullet right now.”

Elsa opened her mouth to say something but Anna held up a hand to stop her. Her brow was furrowed but her shoulders were relaxed. Elsa couldn’t tell what mood Anna was in, but she knew her own heart was pounding so hard it was about to break out of her chest.

“Do you like me, in the romantic sense?” Anna asked, it was even toned and lacked any sense of accusation. “Just be honest with me and say yes or no.”

Elsa bit her bottom lip, it was all she could do to not look away. She felt exposed, naked, unmasked. She opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came out.

Anna frowned and crossed her arms while letting out another sigh.

It shifted something in Elsa and before she could second guess it she blurted out. “Yes. Okay, yes I like you, yes I have feelings for you. No, it’s not normal.”

“Finally!” Anna exclaimed and Elsa looked at her confused. “Elsa, I’ve been trying to get you to say that for months. You don’t think I haven’t noticed? I told you, I’m very intuitive, elder gay and all.”

“I—I… you’re not mad?”

“What? No. Not normal? Sure. But what is normal anyway. Plus, it’s fun to explore. I would love to show you the ropes.” Anna wiggled her eyebrows and laughed.

“I just didn’t think you would be okay with this.” She relaxed back to lean on the counter.

“Elsa, I’m more than okay with this.” Anna closed the gap between them and cupped Elsa’s face in her hands, leaning in to kiss her. Elsa melted into Anna and the bright lights of the grow room faded away.

#elsanna #October 2023 contest #prompt: water #submission

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