#And wanting to figure every little thing about him...

[hoshifighting]

Can you pleaseeee also write staff mingyu x idol reader🥹🥹

staff!mingyu

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive. may be triggering because of; extreme diets, blackout, getting scolded by the choreographer, fingering, a bit of possessive talk, hair pulling, cock riding, devoted mingyu too.

staff!mingyu who you're in one of those tiny-ass dressing rooms with, the ones where you can barely move without smacking into a light fixture or tripping over cables, andhe's , towering over you, big frame almost making the room look even smaller. he’s your stylist-slash-PA-slash-damage-control-for-whatever-stupid-thing-you-say-in-interviews guy, which means he’s there to check every last detail on you, no matter how close he’s gotta get.

it’s day four of this overseas tour—barely halfway in, and you’re already feeling like you’re running on fumes. you’re dodging local food left and right, not ’cause it doesn’t look good, but ‘cause it’s either not on this wild diet they’ve shoved you on or it just doesn’t sit right with your stomach. for real, you didn’t think there’d be a point in your career where you'd be skipping meals, just ‘cause the food doesn’t fit some "ideal look" they cooked up for you.

and staff!mingyu... always there, at the exact moment when your stomach’s about to start an opera of complaints, hands full of grocery bags and this half-smile on his face, like he’s in on some inside joke only the two of you share.

“alright, sit down,” he says, like you’re gonna argue, and starts unloading enough ingredients to feed a small village. he moves around the hotel kitchenette—pots, pans, seasonings, a whole rotation of stuff he’s pulled outta his endless stash. he even managed to drag around a few of those little plastic spice bottles from home, ‘cause apparently, foreign supermarkets don’t stock paprika exactly how he wants it.

“didn’t know your resume included chef duties,” you joke, propping your chin on your hand as you watch him chop veggies with the same focus you’ve seen when he’s backstage, touching up your makeup or fixing your outfits.

he laughs easy. “oh, it doesn’t,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “but you looked like you were about to faint this morning, so i figured i’d make an exception.”

“what, you gonna make a whole buffet?” you tease, but the moment he sets that first plate down, you’re quiet. it’s nothing fancy, but it smells like heaven—garlic, spices, veggies mixed with something hearty, real food for the first time in days.

“look, you eat this, or i swear i’m shoving it down your throat myself,” he says, crossing his arms, and even though he’s joking, there’s this serious fringe in his eyes. like, he won’t let you get away with just picking at the food.

“alright, alright.” you dig in, taking that first bite, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed—warm, filling, like someone wrapped you in a blanket from the inside out. you’re not even halfway done, and he’s already cleaning up, telling you about how he once had to do this for himself, back when he was training and could barely afford takeout, let alone proper meals.

“so, yeah, i’ve been cooking for years,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and it hits you then, this guy, who’s supposed to be here to make sure your eyeliner doesn’t smudge, is actually going out of his way to make sure you’re not just a shell of yourself on stage.

“you know, if this whole career thing falls through, you’d make a damn good chef,” you say, and he just shakes his head, laughing.

“nah,” he says, “i think i like this job better. get to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t faint halfway through a song.”

staff!mingyu who notices everything, who noticed how you walked into the practice room that day looking like... hell, honestly. there were bags under your eyes so dark they could’ve been bruises, and your skin was that shade of pale that came from days of no sleep, maybe a crazy diet, who knows what else. mingyu was hanging out with a bunch of the other staff in the corner, narrowly paying attention at first, but then he caught sight of you—really looked at you—and yeah, it wasn’t just fatigue. he knew what he was seeing; it was that same look he’d seen too many times in trainees and idols back in the day. the look that meant you’d been pushing way too far for way too long.

by the time you got through the first set of counts, your choreographer was already on your case, his tone sharp as knives. “again,” he snapped, crossing his arms, and you could practically hear his frustration from across the room. “you’re not even hitting the moves properly. what is this?” he scoffed, giving you that disappointed stare that always made you feel about two inches tall. “do you even want to be here right now?”

mingyu’s fists clenched a little. he’d seen you pull off that choreography a hundred times before, and he knew damn well it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was that you literally didn’t have anything left in the tank, and this guy was still going in on you like you were some slacker.

but you didn’t argue back, didn’t defend yourself, nothing. just bowed your head, muttering, “i’m sorry,” in this tiny, defeated voice. mingyu could see the exhaustion written all over you, the way your shoulders slumped, how you couldn’t even lift your head all the way back up after bowing. you just stayed there, bent over in that apologetic pose, like maybe that was the last bit of strength you could pull together.

but then, as he watched, you didn’t straighten up at all. in fact, you didn’t move for a solid couple of seconds. and then, like you were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, you dropped. one second, you were still standing, and the next, your knees buckled, and you collapsed right there on the damn floor.

for a split second, no one reacted; it was like the room had frozen.

but then mingyu snapped out of it, his heart racing as he lunged forward. the rest of the staff started moving too, voices rising in panic, but mingyu was already at your side, leaning down and calling your name, voice barely hiding the worry.

“hey! hey, can you hear me?” he said, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. you were breathing, but it was shallow, and your face had gone even paler than before, if that was possible. mingyu felt this pang in his chest seeing you like that. you’d been pushing so hard that your own body just gave up on you.

someone behind him was calling for water, another person was getting the choreographer to back the hell off.

jobs in general weren’t easy, he knew that. but for mingyu, there was nothing worse than watching idols, the people he was supposed to support and protect, get wrecked like this—shoving themselves into diets, swallowing the criticism like it was part of the gig, sacrificing sleep and health just to fit into a pair of jeans or to mold into some industry standard that kept shifting.

he’d been in this job for years, and he’d seen it all before. too many nights spent watching trainees lose more weight than was healthy, idols pushing themselves until they’d practically faded away. sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it’d be worth leaving, finding a path where he didn’t have to witness it all so up close. he’d think about it on those long nights when he was running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee, wondering what the hell he was doing here when he could be somewhere else, not dealing with the cycle of pushing and breaking and then pushing even harder.

but then there was you. you, with your stubborn smile and that relentless drive he couldn’t help but admire. maybe it was that same drive that had you here, running yourself down like you’d forgotten how to stop. but mingyu had felt that pang deep in his chest at the thought of not being around you—of not being there to see you through the highs and lows, to make sure you had someone who cared about more than just your stage presence.

it was that thought, that tiny, persistent ache, that kept him rooted here every damn day. even if he had to watch you crash sometimes, even if it drained him dry just trying to keep up, he’d stay. he’d be right there, whether you knew it or not, making sure that someone in your corner would be looking out for you, whether you wanted it or needed it, or not.

staff!mingyu who’d quietly made it his side mission to keep you fed, like he’d added it to his job description without anyone even asking. it started small, maybe just a little sandwich he’d stash in his bag for you after seeing you collapse that one time. but then it became routine, almost sacred, the way he’d show up like clockwork with that lunch pack in hand, looking half like your bodyguard in his all-black staff gear, half like your own personal chef with a menu that he swore changed every time he showed up.

“mingyu, what’d you make me today?” you’d ask, bouncing into the dressing room after each performance, all amped up and practically beaming because, let’s face it, you’d come to love his little surprise meals more than you’d admit.

and mingyu, with that smug but bashful little smile, would act all nonchalant. “oh, nothing much… just a little chicken and veggie stir-fry,” he’d say, but it was always something next level—some five-star recipe he’d learned just for you. and the best part? he’d make it seem like it was nothing, just a side gig he’d taken up on the fly, when really he’d been researching recipes, planning, and even practicing to make sure it came out perfect.

he’d hand you the lunch pack like he was passing off something top secret, keeping a close eye as you took that first bite, watching for any sign you didn’t like it. but, of course, you always loved it. because mingyu wasn’t just making food—he was making damn art. you’d take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation, and he’d try to hold back that grin but always failed, shoulders relaxing like he’d just won something.

“you don’t get it, mingyu,” you’d say, mouth full but smiling like a kid on christmas. “i think you’re the reason my performance’s getting better. you’re, like, my actual secret weapon.”

and he’d laugh, pretending to brush it off, but inside? he was proud. because knowing you were hitting the stage with a full belly, with energy to burn and that spark back in your eyes—that meant everything. it was his way of giving back to you, even if you never asked for it, even if you didn’t realize how much he cared.

staff!mingyu who somehow became the world’s best photographer without ever meaning to, taking these casual, almost-too-good photos of you that drove your fans insane. you’d be walking through some cobblestone street in italy or leaning out of a coffee shop in tokyo, and he’d be there, catching that perfect shot with his phone. no fancy equipment, no staged poses—just mingyu, with his natural eye for what made you shine, snapping photos that were somehow intimate and made you look like everyone’s dream. fans called them “girlfriend pics,” and if only they knew the man behind the lens.

you had to admit it—he was stealing your heart a little more with every click. at first, you brushed it off as some harmless crush, a side effect of him being so damn good at his job. but then he’d do something small, like bring you soup when you were sick, or drape his coat over your shoulders when you got cold during a late-night rehearsal, and it’d hit you all over again. mingyu, with that goofy smile, the biggest heart, and hands that somehow felt gentle and grounding as he adjusted your hair or let you lean on him during those endless backstage waiting times.

it was easy to fall for him. too easy, really. and the way he cared? the way he was there for you, always? how could you not? he had this way of making you feel seen, like no matter how chaotic things got, he was your solid ground, always steady, always there to keep you safe and keep you going.

but, of course, staff!mingyu was a catch to more than just you. you’d see the way the other staff members watched him, the way some of them giggled and whispered, eyes lingering a little too long. and mingyu, ever the nice guy, didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t really care. he’d give his number when they asked, smile back when they flirted, just being his usual, friendly self. you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but the truth was, it was like a little ache in your chest every time.

after a show one night, you and the whole team went out to celebrate, and mingyu was right there, laughing, clinking glasses with everyone, in his element. when it got late, exhaustion finally started to settle in, and you decided to call it a night. you told everyone you were heading back to the hotel, hoping he’d maybe do the same.

but mingyu didn’t. he stayed behind, still chatting and laughing with a few of the girls from the staff, and you could feel it—that twinge of jealousy, the frustration, knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night with him, hanging on his every word, maybe more.

as you looked back one last time, watching him, it hit you like a punch in the gut. maybe to him, all this was just work—a job. you were part of that, someone he cared about, but just someone in his care. and the pang of that realization stung. maybe you weren’t so special after all.

what you were about to do wasn’t right. hell, it felt downright selfish. you sat in the bathtub, hot water swirling around you, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that told you to just let it go, that this was a bad idea. but you couldn’t shake it off—every thought twisted into a knot in your stomach. you felt almost sick, like you had this strange, heavy weight pressing down on your chest, something that felt more like heartbreak than anything else.

“god, what am i doing?” you muttered to yourself, scrubbing at your skin like it might wash away the confusion. you knew mingyu was just doing his job, that he was sweet and caring and everything you admired. but watching him flirt with those girls, knowing they’d likely take him away for the night, made you feel like you were going to hurl.

“ugh, this is so dumb,” you groaned, splashing water around, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. “why can’t i just be normal about this? it’s not like i’m his girlfriend or anything.”

but then the truth hit you again, a sharp stab of clarity amidst the chaos. you wanted to be.

after a few more minutes of spiraling, you said “fuck it,” feeling a rush of determination surge through you. you fished your phone out of your towel, thumb hovering over his name. your heart raced as you typed out the message.

“hey, mingyu. i know you’re probably busy, but i just wanted to say... i’m not feeling great. kind of sick, actually. do you think you could come by?”

you hit send, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter as you leaned back against the tub. was this too much? but then again, maybe it was time to stop hiding how you felt, to admit you needed him without a million excuses holding you back. it was either that or let him slip away for good, and you weren’t ready for that.

mingyu came in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for your text the entire time. you barely had time to wrap yourself in a towel before he was at your door, knocking frantically. “y/n! are you okay? open up!”

you opened the door, and the sight of him—hair a little messy, eyes wide with worry—made your heart race. “yeah, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered slightly. you didn’t want to come off as dramatic or needy.

he touched your forehead and you leaned into his touch without even realizing it, closing your eyes for a brief second “you don’t have a fever at all,” he said, confsed.

you pulled back abruptly, the warmth fading as reality crashed back in. clutching your towel tight around your body, you walked over to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the view outside. the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“y/n?” mingyu called, confusion clear in his voice. “what’s going on?”

you couldn’t believe you took one of his rare moments of lounge because of being selfish. mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “y/n, you were perfectly fine just a few hours ago. what’s really going on?” he asked, the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“i told you, it’s just a little... off,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. the guilt gnawed at your insides, knowing you were lying, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to come clean.

“off?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the best you can come up with? you don’t just go from fine to ‘i need my staff member to check on me’ for no reason.” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’re not actually sick, are you? what’s up?”

you shifted uncomfortably, the towel clinging to you. “seriously, mingyu, it’s nothing. maybe just a little headache or something,” you said, hoping the casual tone would brush off his concern.

he let out a huff of disbelief. “a headache? so bad that you needed me to rush in here? that doesn’t add up.” he studied you, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “just tell me the truth. are you really feeling sick, or is there something else bothering you?”

“i just thought maybe you could... keep me um... company, you know? just for a bit.”

“keep you company?” he repeated, tone incredulous. “so you fake being sick just to get me in here? you could’ve just asked! you know i’m always down to hang out.”

“mingyu—” you started.

but he cut you off, his voice firm, the playful light fading from his eyes.

“why would you do that? this isn’t some joke, y/n. my job isn’t a game. it’s serious.”

you pressed your lips together at his louder tone, the shock of it stinging more than you expected. you hadn’t meant for things to escalate this badly, and as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, it hit you like a ton of bricks: you never thought mingyu would raise his voice at you. it felt so out of place, so foreign, and your heart sank.

“hey, hey, i’m sorry,” he said, the anger melting away as he noticed your expression. he stepped closer, the care flooding back into his eyes.

you quickly wiped your eyes before the tears could fall, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “you know what? i hate it,! you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “i hate when they’re all over you, mingyu! it makes me sick to my stomach!”

his brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. “wait, what? you hate it when who’s all over me?”

“those girls! the staff!” you said, your voice rising with every word. “the way they throw themselves at you like you’re some kind of trophy. and you smile back at them, like it’s all just a joke or something. it drives me insane!”

mingyu looked stunned, blinking at you as if he were trying to process what you were saying. “y/n, are you—are you... jealous?”

“i — well— hell yeah, i’m jealous!” you shot back, frustration spilling over. “you’re so kind and caring, and they see that. they want you, and it feels like they think they can just waltz in and take you away from me. it’s infuriating!”

“but it’s just… it’s just me being friendly,” he stammered, “i’m not trying to lead anyone on. you know that, right?”

“i know, but it doesn’t change how it makes me feel,” you replied. “it’s like you’re this perfect guy, and they all want a piece of you. and here i am, just trying to keep my head above water, feeling like i have to compete for your attention.”

mingyu shook his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face despite the tension. “you don’t have to compete for anything. you’re… you’re the one who has my heart. all those girls? they’re just… coworkers.”

you pause, processing his words, and mingyu scoffs lightly, a teasing grin on his face.

“oh please, it’s true. you think i’m not bothered when i see those idols shoving their numbers on your sandwiches?”

you blink at him, completely taken aback. “wait, sandwiches? what are you talking about? i only eat the ones that you make for me.”

he interrupts you with that signature smile of his, one that always makes your heart race a little faster. “yeah, exactly. that’s ‘cause i always give those sandwiches to someone else.”

“mingyu, what the hell?”

“y/n, what the hell?” mingyu mocks, raising an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “you seriously thought you could pull this off? lying about being sick? that’s low, even for you.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance. “i wasn’t lying, i just—”

“sure, sure,” he cuts you off. “and is wearing just a towel part of your grand scheme too? because if it is, you’re gonna need to step it up a bit.”

“and what if i just want you to come over… in a towel?”

“then i’ll take that as a personal invite,” he grins, his gaze flickering to your towel before meeting your eyes again. “just know, if you’re gonna pull this kind of stunt, you better be prepared for me to take advantage of the situation.”

staff!mingyu who wastes no time, pressing forward until you’re caught between his solid frame and the cold glass, as his body pins you in place.

“you really went all out for this hm?” his fingers trailing down to the knot of your towel.

staff!mingyu who tugs the fabric free, letting it drop to the floor, leaving you fully naked. his hands spreading wide over your back, fingers firm as he turns you around to face the glass. your chest presses against the cool surface making you gasp as mingyu’s hand trails up your spine, steadying you.

staff!mingyu who grips your hips, pressing you forward, and then trails his hands up over your sides, his fingers brushing along your curves until he reaches your shoulders, leaving no part of you untouched, as though he’s marking every inch of your skin as his.

staff!mingyu who leans down, one hand sneaking around to splay across your stomach, pulling you closer to him, making you feel his hard erection on you.

staff!mingyu who lets his hand slip lower, teasing over the sensitive skin of your thigh before slipping higher, his fingers skillfully finding your pussy as he watches you through the reflection, face contorting in pleasure, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“don’t look away.” he instructs, his tone a command softened by that grin of his.

staff!mingyu who keeps one hand firm on your hip, controlling your every move as he slips his fingers inside you, “all this just because you couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else, huh?” he curls the fingers, trying to pull a response form you. “admit it,” he coaxes as he presses you harder against the glass, his fingers never relenting. “tell me you wanted this—wanted me.”

staff!mingyu who doesn’t stop until he feels you melt against him, a soft, teasing chuckle escaping as he takes in your breathless state. “next time,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “just say the word. i’ll come running.”

staff!mingyu who yanks your hair, tipping your head back to meet his lips as you twist in his grip. it’s a little clumsy, the angle throwing you off, but he holds you steady, his mouth hot and insistent on yours. you’re all melting into him, trusting the way his hands keep you secure, letting him take control as his grip on you tightens.

staff!mingyu who, somehow, maneuvers you both towards the bedd, he scoops you up with ease, laying you back as he hovers over you, he presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, caging you in as he dips down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down to your shoulder, and back up to your jaw.

staff!mingyu who takes his time, exploring every part of you with slow touches, like he’s determined to map out every reaction, to memorize every place that makes you moan.

staff!mingyu who, even in bed, is all about making sure you’re comfortable, arranging the pillows just so, adjusting the blankets if they’re too rough, whispering “is this okay?” and “tell me what you need” like he’s got all the time in the world. his hands are warm, grounding you, and he never rushes, taking the time to check in, to make sure you’re exactly where you want to be, that he’s giving you what you want, down to the smallest detail.

staff!mingyu who lets you wrap yourself around him however you want, all limbs and tangled sheets, whispering soft reassurances in your ear as his hands trace your back, making sure you feel safe. he’s patient, careful, coaxing you with soft, murmured words, taking his time until you’re both lost in it, every sensation heightened.

staff!mingyu who surprises you by pulling back, catching his breath, and suddenly flipping the roles—guiding your hands to explore him, encouraging you to take control. “i’m yours too, you know,” he murmurs, watching you with that familiar smile, the one that’s equal parts playful and sincere, as he lets you explore, giving you the chance to take the lead.

staff!mingyu who’s all breathless and desperate under you from the moment you take the lead FORREAL and ride him, his hands gripping your hips, trying to guide you even when he’s struggling to keep up. soft, wet sounds filling the room as you roll your hips in slow circles, making him whine. his head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, but you bring a hand to his cheek, making him look up at you.

“tell me,” you murmur, lips brushing just against his ear, “tell me you’re mine, mingyu. that none of these hoes matter.” he looks up, his eyes hazy but still so focused on you, like he’s trying to pour everything into that gaze.

“i’m yours—yours, only yours,” he chokes out, his voice rough and pleading, like he needs you to believe it. he’s babbling now, his grip tightening on you, thumbs pressing into your skin, anchoring himself as you move, each drag pulling another whimper from his lips. “none of them—none of them mean anything,” he gasps, desperate, brows knitted together. “just you. only want you.”

staff!mingyu who’s practically begging at this point, his hands sliding up to your waist, trying to pull you down, closer, as if he could somehow get more of you. “please.” he whispers, his eyes filled with so much want it makes your heart pound.

“you’re mine, mingyu. no one else. got it?” and the way he shudders, that choked, relieved sound he lets out, is everything. he nods frantically, hands gripping you tighter as he starts to lose control, bucking up into you.

staff!mingyu who’s wholly ruined beneath you, lost in every kiss, every whispered word, clutching onto you as if he’s scared you might sneak off, even when you’re right there, telling him over and over again—“all mine.”

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Dale Story #1

The day started with me digging up cactus. Grandpa Dale had a weird beef with cactuses, bad enough to pay me 10 cents for every pound I turned in. Looking back at it, I think they offended him because they could exist without his consent: They didn't need his water, they didn't need his fertilizer, and they certainly didn't need his permission. 

And that, he simply could not abide. 

Grandpa Dale had been doing something weird that whole morning. I knew because I'd been able to watch him since sunrise. Every time I took a break from digging cactus to look back at the house, I saw him doing something with the gopher holes. 

That made me nervous. Things never went well when he started messing with the gophers.  Earlier that month he'd tried gassing them out, and all he got from that effort was nasty looking blisters up both arms. He almost never complained about anything, but he griped all day about how bad those blisters hurt. When his wife suggested that he go to the hospital he said No, what am I gonna tell them? That my trench got overrun? They wouldn't buy that. They'd think I was cooking meth. 

Which was funny to hear, but also, true, and also, enough for me to know better than to get involved in future gopher battles. 

Which is to admit that I did get involved. But I should've known better. A few hours in, he invited me over, gave me a cold soda, and showed me what he had set up: Two camping chairs, a wicked sharp shovel, a car battery, and a long length of copper wire leading to a pit he'd dug in the middle of the yard. Told me that if I stayed a bit and took a break, cooled down there with a soda in the shade, I'd see something amazing. I asked him if there was even a chance I could get hurt by this "something amazing", and he said "no," which I knew was a bald faced lie. But I believed him because I wanted to believe him. Because I wanted to know what he'd done, and I wanted to sit there in the shade with my grandpa. I also figured, hey, maybe getting gassed taught him a lesson. 

(Never, ever assume that the kind of person willing to break out chemical weapons against gophers is capable of being taught a lesson.) 

So I sat down in my chair and he beamed at that. He loved having an audience. Then I watched him lean forward and tap the ends of the wire against the battery terminals.

And that's where everything went wrong.  

The first thing that hit me was the yard itself. Little bits of sand and grit flying fast enough to hit my skin and bite. It took a year and change for all the little bits to work their way out. But I didn't even feel it at the time, because of what happened after. 

I genuinely think he'd imagined the gophers getting launched out of the holes, disoriented but alive. I think that shovel was there to finish them off afterwards. Which also would've been traumatizing, but probably less so than watching each of those cute little gopher holes projectile vomit bloody piles of tattered critter all over the lawn. 

Which, spoiler alert, is exactly what happened. The sky fell down, and the ground flew up, and the gophers found themselves with nowhere to go. So they did the next best thing and went a little bit everywhere.

I don't think it was actually silent afterwards, but I couldn't hear shit. There was just this long, ringing period of us looking at each other, then the meat piles, then the lawn crater, then the big buckled section of yard that looked oddly like Rockies just behind us, then back to each other. 

I think I did that two or three times before I felt my shoulders start to shake a little. I was crying. Felt weird to cry and not be able to hear it. Like a tic almost, or the way your body seizes up right before you puke. 

And then I looked at his face, and I saw him mouth a single soundless word: 

Shit.

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it

It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.

He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.

You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.

Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.

I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.

Love, Your Max

Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.

You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.

"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.

"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.

"No, it's okay!"

"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.

"Wow."

"I know, I don't know what to do."

Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"

"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."

"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."

"So you think I should go?"

"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."

After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.

-----------------------------------

You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."

The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.

Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.

Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.

"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."

"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."

"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."

"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.

"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.

Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.

After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.

@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???

reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly

reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways

You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!

Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.

"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.

"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"How much longer until we know?"

"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"

"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.

Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.

"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."

You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.

"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."

You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.

Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.

"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.

"I'm in the one right next to you."

"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"

"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.

"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"

"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.

---------------------------------------

Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.

Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.

"The storms."

"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.

"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.

"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."

Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.

Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.

"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.

"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."

Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.

"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.

"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.

"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."

"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.

"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.

"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.

"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."

"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"

Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."

Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."

He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.

"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.

"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.

The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.

"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.

"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.

Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.

Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.

You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.

Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.

“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”

His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.

“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”

He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.

"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."

Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.

As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.

Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."

"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.

"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves like that doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he signed without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery like that, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[fruithoughts]

PRINCESS TREATMENT

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤh. joshua x fem!reader  ⪩⪨

01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember .  ⎯⎯⎯  joshua.

02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 .  ⎯⎯⎯ multiple pet names, possessive thoughts, mentions of blowjobs(m.) and sex, just a very gentle guy who loves his girl more than anything.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua whose instagram is filled to the brim with pictures of his beautiful girl, sometimes he forgets to tag you but it’s okay because it takes no sherlock holmes to figure out your username since he only follows your account and a naruto fanpage. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who wants you to meet his parents in less than a month into the relationship, it’s extremely important to him to make it as clear as possible that he is serious about you, leaves no room for overthinking at all, always a step ahead of you in the “would you still love me if i was a worm?” department, the best boy indeed. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who would rather take a bullet than let you pay for literally anything, because how dare you even suggest paying for your own things? as if you don’t know the only reason he works so hard it’s exactly so he can pamper you endlessly? the absolute nerve of you, better get on your knees and start apologizing.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who is the sassiest and most dramatic guy you’ve ever been with, but can not for the life of him handle the thought of you doing any work at all, in every aspect, which, ironically, sometimes makes you work even harder to get what you want.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who makes it the world’s most difficult challenge to accept receiving head from you for the first time, he enjoys being the one doing all of the work to make you feel good, he just couldn’t see how blowing him off would please you at all so he keeped denying(while completely ignoring the tent forming rapidly in his grey sweatpants) until you begged too sweetly, so softly, looking at him with so much adoration and love, like you wanted nothing more than to please him, he could have finished right there but instead he shook his head and sat down in the bed, ready to give his princess anything she could ever want, just like he promised he would! even if what she wanted was to kneel in front of him and try to fit his thick cock into her little mouth for a while.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who uses every opportunity that stumbles across his way to show off his huge arms, it’s a win-win scenario, he gets to feel all hot and manly and you get to hold onto your boyfriend’s strong biceps everywhere you go and get carried on bride style after a night out that, honestly, didn’t even leave you that drunk, but since he offered to carry you, who would ever say no?

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who adores your nails and is always super excited to see the results of your nail appointments, asks for pictures during the whole process, sends you food when it’s taking too long, and finally when the nails are done, he’s there to pick you up in his shiny car, more than ready to do the last step of your nail day, which is putting them to the test, the scratch test. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who just can’t help but adore when you leave him all marked up, he loves it, and how can you blame him? was he supposed to be normal about having proof straight on his body of just how good he made you feel last night? how could you even consider he'd do such a thing? this man is not normal about you in general. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who knows your entire wardrobe like the back of his hand, half of it because he bought it, the other half because of how often he’s watching you, definitely a “i look at you more often than you think” kinda guy. he’s very proud of just how well he knows his baby.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who remembers all of your food preferences and orders, knows all of your allergies, all of your icks and all of your friend’s gossips because he’s just so well behaved! he won't tell anyone, he never would! he's your joshy! you can trust him to keep all of your secrets, forever.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who’s very open about the fact that he wants to marry you, live the rest of your lives together, maybe with a kid if you’re into that, maybe just dogs if that’s better for you, he got his own wishes when it comes to creating a family, but at the end of the day; this man has one priority, and she has a name. whatever is best for you, it’s the best for him.

⪩⪨ husband!joshua who no matter how long it has passed since you got married, has not lost even a little bit of his obsession with you. his precious flower, his cute little thing, his darling, his sweet girl, that’s all you’ll ever be to him, all his to love and protect, forever.

[letsyapthenightaway]

The Hockey Boys Finding Out You Support Another Team

Okay I simp for all of them but…I'm an Islander

Luke Hughes - feels betrayed when he sees you in some other team jersey. How can his girl wear another team? And in front of him!? The devils are teasing him. Saying he's Fallin for the enemy, and he's pouting about it but won't tell you. Once you figure out why he's all pout and you tease him he'd whine even more. Would try to walk away pull him back in and give him some loving.

Jack Hughes - “Oh really? That's how it's going to be?” the moment he sees you in another Jersey. “They aren't even that good!” sassy man apocalypse with him. Scuff every time he looks at your Jersey, arms crossed and rolling his eyes. It's giving “go with your other man” but it's all jokes at the end.

Quinn Hughes- I feel like he'd take it like a champ but it does make him even more competitive. Looks at your Jersey and laughs while shaking his head. “Fine, but when I win don't come to me” in a playful way. He always wants to win a game but he's definitely winning this one.

Matt Rempe- a quick no while shaking his head with an “I can't believe this” laugh and a “very funny, go change” The others chirp him enough as it is. When he notices you're serious about being on the other team he's torn. I can see him stumble on his words a little while trying to convince you to wear his jersey but he will also drop a sassy remark. Like everyone else I want him to play not fight but a fight will break out. Between Matt and the player whose jersey you are wearing. Another boy who would need some love after the game.

Connor Bedard- one thing I love about Connor is his smile but it would drop so slowly once he notices you're sporting another team. I feel like he would glare so hard! Would also question a lot “So why him/them” now has a little one-sided beef jealousy? with the other player but won't admit it. Everyone can feel it! Bedard is in game mode, crazy serious, almost like he has something to prove. If he gets chirped he's not fighting, but he will play rougher. Won't talk to you for a bit and will be a little distant but once he does it will be soft while playing with your fingers.

[dustpages]

Baby Blue Love

" Plié, plié, and a final pirouette." Mr. Lafayette instructed us to wrap up the endless last class of the week at the Opera de Paris.

Every step I took towards the dressing room was painful, my legs especially were wobbling given the intensity of this week's training. It was a year since I joined the Opera as a corps de ballet member, but it didn't make it any easier to cope with the sore muscles. 

I wrapped myself in my long puffed jacket and walked out of the Opera Garnier. It had rained all day long and the wind was hauling in the old cobblestone streets of the city, it was baltic.

I carefully descended the stoned stairs of the Opera, making my way towards the metro station. I couldn't bear to stay any longer than was necessary in that awful weather. 

The streets were almost deserted given the hour the training ended. I was concentrating on not falling on the slippery pavement when a feeble cry made me divert my eyes from my own feet. 

 I followed the sobbing sound finding just around a corner a small kid who was trying to protect himself from the wind. His face was angelic, his eyes were piercing blue and his hair was raven black and messy, it made him look like an abandoned puppy. He looked so helpless that my heart immediately melted. He couldn't be more than five years old.

The little boy stopped crying when he saw me approaching and looked at me curiously, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his dirty shirt. He had a blue blanket wrapped around him and some bread crumbs in his pocket. My heart sank at the sight of the poor thing. "Where are you from?" I asked him in my best French, even though he was not French. 

" I don't know." He said in a broken French accent, and then in a strong British accent. " I haven't got a clue."

I kneeled down beside him and gave him a soft smile. "Well, why don't you come with me? You can have some hot chocolate and we'll see what we can do."

His blue eyes lightened up at the mention of hot chocolate. "Really?"

" Of course." I said holding out my hand for him to grab. He held it strongly as if he was sure that I was going to be his saviour. I felt my heart clenching at the thought of him being all alone on the cold street. He was such a small creature, I wanted to protect him from everything, I wanted to keep him safe in my arms and never let go given that the world seemed to have already thrown him a 

 harsh blow.

We entered the metro and we found ourselves in a carriage, sitting on two seats. He kept shaking clearly intimidated by the people around us. I held his hand, which was freezing, trying to calm him down; it was pointless to do small talks in that context.

We reached our stop and I led him towards my flat, which was in the same arrondissement of the Opera.

I opened the door and welcomed him into my house, a newly renovated Haussmann flat with a Versailles parquet spreading all around. 

It was minimalistic furbished with white walls, and modern pieces of furniture. I pushed him inside, letting him warm up a bit. "You must be cold." I said unbuttoning my jacket, and giving it to him. 

I walked into the kitchen to make him some hot chocolate, it was the first thing that came to my mind in that situation. I knew nothing about him and I knew he would be hungry, but I wanted something warmer and sweeter than a normal meal.

When I returned to the living room he was sitting on my sofa, with my jacket on his shoulders. It was huge for him, it swallowed his small frame entirely, but it gave him a sense of warmth. He was so cute that I couldn't help myself but laugh at the sight.

I handed him the mug of hot chocolate and he devoured it hungrily, leaving some drops of the chocolate on his lips. I felt myself laughing again at the sight, I couldn't help myself he was the epitome of cuteness. 

" You are gonna stay here for the night, and tomorrow we will figure out what to do." I asserted composing myself. 

He just nodded at me. " Time for a warm bath." I took his hand in mine and led him to the bathroom. 

I filled the tub with water and added some bath salts, letting the sweet aroma fill the room. " Can you undress yourself?" I asked, feeling a bit embarrassed at the prospect of undressing such a little child.

" Affirmative ma'am." He answered and I left him in the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I went into the guest room and retrieved some of my old clothes, that I had left there for my occasional guests. I brought them back into the bathroom and knocked gently. "Are you done?" I whispered.

"Yes."

I opened the door. He was standing naked in front of me, his small body dripping with water. His hair was glued to his forehead, and he had some water drops still on his body. His blue eyes looked at me shyly; he had his hands covering his pelvis area. "Don't be ashamed.” I said and took him by the hand.  

I handed him one of my old T-shirts and a pair of leggings. They were a bit too large for his small frame but he looked adorable nonetheless. He smiled shyly at me and I felt again my heart clenching. I took a towel and dried his hair, trying not to touch him more than necessary. His smell was that of innocence, it smelled like milk and bread and something sweeter. 

I dried his hair and helped him in getting dressed. He was still shaking so I grabbed his hand again, letting him feel my warmth. "Do you want to sleep with me?" I questioned him not wanting him to sleep all alone in one of my guest rooms.

" If you don't mind." he stated after a second of deep thought.  

"No, I don't mind at all." I smiled and we went into my bedroom. We slipped under the blanket together and I wrapped him in my arms, giving him a gentle hug. His body felt so tiny against mine, I felt the urge to protect him from the world, I could have been the one making his life better. 

I wasn't too old respect to him, I would have turned eighteen next March. I could have been his legal tutor, big sister or mum, I didn't care about the etiquette.

" Good night." He murmured, his voice still hoarse from the crying.

" Good night." I whispered and closed my eyes. I could feel his eyes on me, I could feel his breath on my neck, but I tried to fall asleep anyway. 

It took me some time, but I finally fell into a deep sleep lulled by the rhythm of his breath and his tiny hand resting on my shoulder. I didn't even wake up when he snuggled closer to me, letting his head rest on the crook of my neck. I just felt his tiny breath on my skin and I was gone.

I woke up in the middle of the night due to a scream, the little creature beside me was trembling all over, he was still asleep. He was crying and murmuring in his dream, his words were indistinguishable but his fear was clear. 

Holding him tight, I took him in my arms, rocking him from side to side as I would do with a doll. I whispered some comforting words, telling him that everything was okay, that he was safe now. That he would never be alone again. 

His eyes slowly opened, they were hazy with tears, he looked up at me with the expression of a lost puppy. " It's okay." I whispered holding his gaze with mine. "You're safe." I continued, I tried not to break eye contact, so he could feel my sincerity. 

 I wanted him to see that I was real, I wasn't part of his nightmare. 

After some time his breathing calmed down and he fell asleep again his tiny hand was grabbing mine, he was squeezing it softly. I wrapped myself around his small body, trying to give him the warmth he was craving. 

In the next few days with the help of my parents, I managed to adopt him even though I wasn't eighteen yet. My parents were the ones on paper who were his tutors.

He began living with me. I had to manage my time between the endless hours of dancing, my private school where I was about to graduate, my baby, and my boyfriend Claude.

I had mirrors at home. I was well aware of my appearance, I've always been pretty and growing older, I blossomed. Dancing for hours and hours each day gave me a slender and toned body. I could tell to have everything to strike hearths here and there, and I surely did, even though none of them had ever conquered mine. 

Claude had been with me for barely a few months, he was a bit older than me and not even particularly funny.

He was handsome though, tall with blonde hair and a nice body. Sex was satisfying as well, he was gifted but he lacked passion. 

We were having a late dinner in my flat, I was late from the dance class and my baby was already sleeping in his room.

" Do you want some more?" I asked him pointing to the plate of chicken in the middle of our table. He shook his head no.

" I don't get why you are ruining your life taking care of that little shit." he asserted. " Last time I got him while he was playing with me shoes, they were bloody expensive."

" He is just a kid, and you should be more patient." I retorted. " You scolded him for nothing; he cried all night."

" He is just a whimper." He offended my son.

" Would you keep going losing time or we fuck?" I tried to change the topic.

He didn't lose any time ripping my white wool carding apart, the silver buttons flew all around the kitchen. I had on a black and white checked skirt and white cotton short stockings. He cleared the table throwing plates and cutleries on the marble floor, cracking sounds echoed in the silence of the flat. 

Claude made me bend on the table, he positioned me behind me and lifted my skirt over my back.

" You'll get what you asked for." he spat on his dick and pushed into me, using his fingers to pull my panties aside.  I felt the tip of his dick sliding into my pussy, stretching me as he entered me fully. I moaned at the sudden intrusion, but he just started pumping inside me not waiting for me to adjust to his size. He took my hips and began pounding me with full force, I cried out in pain, I was not prepared. My legs were already hurting from the hours of dance and my pussy was dry, he was tearing me apart. I could hear him groaning behind me, I knew he was close to his peak. 

" Mina, I wetted the bed." I heard my son’s voice; he was standing naked on the kitchen door frame crying.

" You disgusting whimper get out of here." Claude yelled making my baby cry even more.

He gave me a few more pumps before I was able to push him back. " You are a dickhead." I offended him.

" At least I'm naturally gifted down there, not like that thing and his microscopic dick." he pointed to my son who was crying desperately. 

I dashed to my son kneeling in front of him,  letting my skirt fall down over my ass. I gathered him in a hug, trying to comfort him. He was trembling all over and he was looking at Claude with scared eyes. 

" Claude get the fuck out of here. We are done, for good." I stated standing up with my baby in my arms.

"  Well, I guess we won’t see again." He laughed grabbing his dick and shoving it in my face. “But it’s your loss nonetheless." 

I pushed him away, disgusted and closed the door on his face. 

As soon as we were alone my baby stopped crying, I felt a wave of relief.  " Everything is gonna be okay." I promised him. " Now let's get you some clean clothes and a new pair of undies."

I carried him into his bedroom and changed him into a new pair of clothes. I cleaned up the mess Claude made in the kitchen and then we had some tea with biscuits in the living room, my baby was fully awake unluckily I was dreaming of sleeping.

" Mum, what does it mean ' his microscopic dick'?" he quoted what that bastard of my ex told him.  I laughed a bit at the way he pronounced the curse word, and I realised that I should have been more careful of what I said in front of him.

" Baby, there's nothing wrong with your body. You  are still young and you'll grow up as time goes by." I explained to him. " That moron was trying to hurt you, he was jealous of your beauty." I hugged him tight in my arms.

He looked up at me curiously. " Am I really beautiful?" his voice sounded way too cute.

" Of course you are, you look just like me." I replied smiling at him.

I could see his eyes lightening up at my words. " I'm gonna sleep with you tonight." he asserted, he was trying to get under my blanket. 

I laughed and agreed, letting him climb on the bed beside me. We cuddled under the blanket, and we soon fell asleep.

We both slept like babies, my son's little hand was holding mine, and his head was resting on the crook of my arm. I felt him moving around in the middle of the night and I opened my eyes finding him on top of me. 

" Mum." he whispered his voice was so tiny and cute. 

" Yes?" I replied my voice hoarse from sleep.

" Milk." he uttered moving his lips on my naked chest. 

I realized what he meant and laughed at his innocence. " I can't give you milk." I whispered. 

His tiny and soft lips parted taking my nipple in, he had no clue what he was doing but it was feeling fantastic. 

He was sucking eagerly looking for milk, I could feel my nipples getting hard in his mouth. I was letting him do what he wanted, I was just enjoying the moment.

He stopped after a while looking at me curiously. I could read the confusion on his face, he didn't understand why there wasn't milk.

" Keep sucking baby, a magical fluid will come out if you do a good job." I was turned on and I was eager for more.

He nodded and started sucking me again, he took the other nipple in his mouth looking for a better luck.

His tongue was darting in and out of my nipple, he was making it hard as stone. His magnificent blue eyes were showing determination, I closed my arms around him. I could feel my pussy wetting and pulsating, I had never been so aroused.

His little body was hot on my skin. I used one hand to play with my clit, rubbing it slowly while his mouth was still busy with my nipples, with the other I gently touched his hair. 

He was giggling under my touch, my hand moved down his hand rubbing on his small back. His ass was round and perfect, it called for me to be spanked. 

I gave it a gentle slap. My son, who has kept doing his job adamantly, bit my nipple, sending a powerful wave of pleasure down my body. 

My cunt couldn't take it anymore, it convulsed around my fingers making me cum. I squirted on my bed making the sheets wet.

" Mum wetted the bed, like me." he laughed not understanding the whole thing. 

" Don't worry baby, you did a terrific job." I kissed his forehead. " Can I peck your lips, please?” 

He nodded shyly.

 " Close your eyes." I ordered, and he obeyed. 

I pressed my lips on him, they were soft and tasted like milk, I felt like I was eating him. He gasped and opened his mouth, I took advantage of that and slipped the tip of my tongue in, dancing it against his. He let out a moan and wrapped his arms around me, he started kissing me back with the same passion. He was letting me devour him, not that he could do otherwise. 

 I took my time, I wanted him to feel good. I wanted to kiss him to make him feel loved and appreciated. 

 I could feel the love for him growing up in my heart; he was my baby. 

….

Long story short, till the present time. Twelve years later.

I was the epitome of grace and beauty, not my words but of the Opera director. I had made my way through the vertical ladder of the ballet corps de ballet, becoming one of the best and most renowned dancers of the Opera de Paris, I had earned a lot of respect and money. 

Every night I performed I had a few suitors waiting for me at the exit of my changing room. Praising my mesmerizing face, my toned and long legs and my perfectly round butt. They would offer me the moon, but I only cared about getting home to my little boy.

 Nothing could compare to how beautiful I felt when he was around. He had grown up with the most piercing blue eyes and the same raven-black hair as mine. His smile was devastating and he had the body of a dancer.

His smile made my knees weak, his voice made my soul sing. He was the epitome of perfection, and he was all mine.

I had always thought that I had adopted him to save him, but now I realized that I had done it for myself. I had done it to save myself. From loneliness, from boredom, from a life without a purpose more than dancing.

I had routed him to become a classic dancer since he got adjusted to his new life with me, I tried my best to keep an eye on him without interfering with his development. I wasn't a teacher and the serious discipline I've been subjected to when I was younger had scarred me, and I didn't want to pass those scars on him.

Now that he was seventeen years old, I could tell he had become a good dancer. He was still raw in some areas, but in general I was proud of him. 

We were eating dinner at the dining table, it was another snowy night in Paris. His beautiful blue eyes stared at me for a good second, I had my hair still styled and the same fancy make-up that I wore all day for the commercial that the company was about to release before Christmas to promote the ballet activities. 

" Mina, you look breathtaking." he complimented me. It was rare for him to express his own thoughts. 

My cheeks flushed crimson red,  my body became all tingly, and my breath caught in my throat. 

" Thank you.” I murmured feeling the blush spreading all over my face and neck.

" It was just the truth." He declared with a small smirk. I swallowed hard trying not to make the situation too awkward. 

He was wearing a white shirt and a black pair of jeans, his black hair was messy and his blue eyes sparkled in the light. "I have to ask you something." he said nervously. " May I?" he added staring at me shyly. 

" Of course you may." I answered encouragingly.

" I'm facing a problem, a sort of dilemma." he began. " It's getting more and more daunting for me to dance."

" What are you talking about? You are still a bit inexperienced but still very young." I confronted him. 

" It's not about that. I can't help myself not to get unreasonably hard down there while I'm dancing with all the other girls. I don't get it, I try to stay relaxed and all but it doesn't change anything. It hurts." he told me purring out his thoughts. 

" Oh." I responded. I was well aware that this day would have come, his hormones were more agitated than the blizzard outside the windows.

" First of all don't question your career, the problem you encountered is utterly normal for all young men." I explained him. 

I was his centre of gravity, it wasn't concerning for me to talk to him about his sexuality. 

" I guess you are aware of what is occurring in your body, you are too brilliant not to know it." I continued. 

" We talk about it at school about sex and stuff, but all of this happening to me is getting out of hand." he replied.

I thought about what to answer him. I was gonna be the one through this path but I reckoned that to maximize the outcome and reduce the awkwardness between us, it was more 'efficient' to let him watch an experienced couple have sex in real life with him. 

" I do reckon for your first time experiencing sex in real life is better if you see a navigate couple doing it, more than having me telling you what to do or not to do." I affirmed. " My friend Momo is, for what I know, in a kind of open relationship with a man or more. I'm gonna ask her to set up a kind of masterclass for us in the next days."

His eyes sparkled, he was aware of who Momo was and how hot she looked.

" Are you sure Momo will be down to do it?" he gulped. 

" It doesn't hurt to ring her and ask." I replied standing up to call her.

To confirm my idea she accepted immediately to have sex in front of us, she has always been a bit of a show-off. I had to give her that she created a career around her attitude, becoming one of the main attractions of the Crazy Horse. 

I walked back to my baby who was looking at me with interest. " She is down to do it, the day after tomorrow it's her free day so she is down to help us." I explained. 

He stood up and hugged me. " Thank you. You have always provided for me, I adore you."  his voice was low and sweet as the candy floss.

I melted like snow under the summer sun and reciprocated the hug pulling him closer to me. His warm breath was on my neck and his hands were wrapped around my waist, I felt him pressing his body against mine.

It was the first time that he had touched me with so much affection. I couldn't stop my body from reacting to him and my nipples became hard. The place between my legs became wet and tingly.

I pecked his soft lips, he parted them and our tongues met in a dance. His kisses were soft and sweet, they made me feel so warm inside. 

I pulled out before things could go out of control. " Wait for a few days and then we will figure it out what to do." I asserted. " Be aware that I kissed because I really wanted to." 

I broke and walked back into the kitchen sensing his eyes on me as I walked away. 

The D-day came fast, Momo had told me to go to her place at ten sharp. I had dinner with my baby, he was tensed like a violin cord. 

I was wearing a simple outfit composed of a black T-shirt, a black short skit and a pair of black heels.

I had wavy hair for the occasion, and my legs were on full display. He had stared at them since I wore this outfit before dinner, I was very conscious of the effect I was having on him. 

" Stop fidgeting, with the food. We are gonna be late if you don't get a move." I opined cleaning the last bits of food on my plate.

He almost choked on the mouthful of spaghetti he was swallowing. He had to cough for a while and his eyes became glassy from the effort. " Sorry, sorry." he managed to say. His face was red from the effort and his blue eyes were shining, he looked like an angel.

I laughed at the sight and walked towards the door. " Come on. Let's go." I told him grabbing my coat from the coat rack.

We walked in silence until we got to Momo's door, it was raining. "Rules are simple, we watch and you don't touch anything that isn't consented to by Momo or me." I warned him.

He nodded while we took the lift to her front door. Momo welcomed us wearing a ridiculous cream corset and white panties, her tits were barely contained by the corset and the rest of the body was naked.

" Welcome to Momo's house." She said spinning around to let us see her body. 

" What a show-off." I affirmed in my mind. My baby was stunned by her look, he didn't even step into the flat. I had to drag him inside pulling his arm.

" Good evening Mina." a low and seductive voice called me. I diverted my gaze from Momo meeting Jean-Pierre's eyes. 

" Bugger. Why did you call him in for tonight?" I hissed speaking to Momo.

Jean-Pierre was a casting member at the Crazy Horse. His skin was black as a night sky, his body was muscular and well-defined. Not to mention he had one of the most impressive dicks I've ever seen. It was a beast, it would be hard to believe that someone could manage to swallow it entirely. He had a very specific role in Momo's sex life and he didn't even need to explain. He was the bull in her stable and she was the cowgirl. 

"Don't be a prude Mina. I know you have indulged some nights, over the last years with him." she replied. " You know he more than a good fuck."

I got red in the face feeling embarrassed. My baby eyes were on me and Jean-Pierre, I could see his brain trying to elaborate on what he had just heard. 

Momo was right, I couldn't deny her affirmation. I had met him a few times in the past in those moments when I needed to release the stress without having to worry about any repercussions. 

" Shall we begin." I tried to change the subject in question. 

Momo nodded leading us towards the principal bedroom. The light was dimmed and the room was filled by the scent of jasmine and lavender. 

My baby walked towards me, he stood beside me and his body touched mine. I tried my best to ignore the reaction of my body, but it was hard to ignore him, especially given how he looked.  He was so handsome that I wanted to kiss him all over his body. 

Jean-Pierre and Momo got naked in a heartbeat, Momo walked towards us, giving a soft kiss on my lips and then she walked towards my baby and kissed him as well. 

Jean-Pierre came next to Momo, his dick was already half hard and pointing towards the sky. 

" Wanna touch it?" he smirked at me.  

I ignored him, trying not to blush even more."Don't be a dick." Momo came to help me. 

She grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the bed, leaving me and my baby to watch.

They started kissing each other passionately, their tongues entwined and their hands were all over each other's body. Momo moaned when Jean-Pierre's fingers started stroking her pussy. She was already dripping wet, her juices were leaking down her legs.

I glanced at my baby and I saw him watching the scene in front of him, his eyes were wide with wonder.

Jean-Pierre grabbed Momo by the hair pulling her head back and exposing her neck to him. He started kissing her neck and sucking on it. Momo started panting when he moved lower and sucked on her tits. His dick was fully hard now, I could see it rubbing against her pussy.

Momo tried to rub herself against it but he held her still. " I'll let you come when I want to." he murmured in her ear. 

" Please Jean-Pierre." she begged.

He let her go and she knelt in front of his dick. She took it in her hands and started sucking on the head, she was drooling all over it. " You are such a good girl." he complimented her. 

He pushed her head down making her take his dick as much as she could in her mouth. Her eyes were wide open, and her hair was covering his lower abdomen. His dick was so big it wasn't able to fit entirely in her mouth, it was leaking pre-cum on her lips and the floor. 

" Good girl." Jean-Pierre moaned face-fucking her without any mercy. She gagged loudly, obviously in pain. " Swallow my cock." he commanded her.

She nodded and started bobbing her head, her lips were stretched to the limits around his shaft. She had tears running down her cheeks, she was struggling to take his dick in her mouth.

Jean-Pierre pulled her off him, she was gasping for air.  " Go on all four on the bed." he commanded her.

She did as told. " Now I'll gonna make you come." Jean-Pierre promised. He positioned himself behind her and grabbed his dick with one of his hands. He rubbed it against her pussy and pushed the head in. 

Momo started moaning loudly, he was pushing his cock in inch by inch, and her pussy was stretched to her limits to fit him.

He began pounding her aggressively from the beginning, not letting her inside get used to his shaft. 

" Bastard." was the only word Momo was able to pronounce before screaming as his dick botted out. 

Her pussy was dripping wet around him, she was already cumming. He kept thrusting in and out of her, his dick moving in a perfect rhythm.

" You are such a greedy little girl." he said grabbing her hips,  to make her feel more of his cock. 

" Yes, daddy." she moaned.

I could see the pleasure on her face, her tits bouncing at every thrust. She was dripping wet and her pussy was gaping around his dick. I couldn't help but feel myself getting wet at the sight of the two of them. 

Jean-Pierre's hand reached down and rubbed her clit, making her cum again. She screamed his name and he kept fucking her ruthlessly. 

" Baby, sex isn't just about being wild and rough as he is doing. If you truly love your partner you will be more sensible to her feelings and desires." I explained to my baby. " Don't forget to always ask for consent."

" Yes, I won't forget." he responded. My arm was wrapped around his shoulder forcing him to lay his head on me, his hair smelled of fresh grass and mint, it made me feel warm inside.

" Daddy, I want more." Momo screamed. Jean-Pierre picked up the pace of his thrusts, his breathing was heavy and his skin was glistening with sweat. 

His dick popped out of Momo's pussy and he stroked it with his hand. Momo was shaking and trembling from the pleasure.

" Come on my face." Momo commanded him. He did as told, his cock spurted out a long stream of cum on her face and tits. 

He laid down on the bed, his dick was still hard. He grabbed her by the hair and made her lick her own cum from his dick.

Momo obliged cleaning him entirely and sucking his cock once more, she took it in her mouth and started bobbing her head again.

His eyes were closed and he was panting, his hips were bucking towards her mouth. His dick grew even harder if it was possible. 

" Swallow my cum." he ordered her.

Momo obeyed him and sucked him harder. He groaned and came in her mouth, filling her throat with his seed. 

She swallowed everything he gave her and then licked his cock clean, she let him go when he was completely spent.

She crawled back to us and kissed me on the lips. " That was quite funny." She opined.

My son stared at her big tits with lust.  His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. I could feel him hard against me. He was still staring at Momo with hunger. " Go on." Momo said in a seductive tone. " Fuck me."

Jean-Pierre sat up, his eyes fixed on my baby's body. " Go on, he's your toy. Do with him as you please." Jean-Pierre declared. 

He got up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom to clean himself.

My baby was still staring at Momo, he hadn't moved a muscle. " What are you waiting for?" Momo asked him. " Come on." she said spreading her legs.

" Don't rush him, he is still a virgin." I stated. 

" Mum, I want you to be my first." he said cutely. 

" I will baby, but now just go to Momo and have some fun." I incited him. 

" Come here and fuck my tits." she declared squeezing her tits in her hand.

He walked towards her slowly, his blue eyes were on Momo and he was licking his lips. He dropped his trousers and his dick sprang out. He was hard and it was leaking of precum. 

He knelt on the bed and grabbed Momo's tits, squeezing them hard. His dick started rubbing against Momo's body, he was already moaning.

" To be a white boy you got yourself a nice cock." Momo complimented him.

" Thank you." he answered shyly. He looked at me for a second before leaning in and kissing Momo on the lips.

His hips started bucking against hers and his cock was sliding up and down her body, leaving a trail of precum behind. 

Momo pressed her tits together creating a narrower tunnel where my son was thrusting desperately. I could only imagine the sensations she was feelings having those big melons rubbing against his dick.

His moans were getting louder, his hands were grasping the bedboard, and she was letting him do as he pleased. 

I felt myself wetting at the sight, it was so arousing to see him being pleasured like that. His body trembled after a good fifteen minutes, anticipating his climax. 

Momo sensed it as well. " Lie on the bed, I'll finish you off with my mouth." she pushed him to lie on the mattress and got on top of him. She grabbed his cock in her hands and stroked for a few seconds before diving her head on it.

Her lips wrapped around his shaft and her tongue started licking it. She was sucking on him greedily, she knew how to do it. I felt my nipples growing hard at the sight. 

He was moaning loudly and his hips were bucking up towards her mouth.  He grabbed her head and pushed her further on his dick, making her take as much as she can.

" Swallow my cum." my son moaned, his eyes were shut tight.

She obeyed him and started sucking harder. My son's eyes flew open and he came in her mouth with a loud moan. 

His cock spurted out jets of cum inside her mouth and she swallowed them all without leaving a drop. His cock twitched in her mouth for a few seconds more before she released it with a loud pop. 

Momo crawled back to me, her lips and chin were covered with my son's cum. She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in for a kiss. I could taste my son's seed on her tongue, it tasted sweet like a caramel. 

"He tastes better than anyone I sucked before." she whispered in my ear. I could only agree with her assertion.

" Son, it's time to go home." I told him collecting his clothes scattered on the floor. 

We dressed in silence and we went back to our place. My son was walking in silence, his head bowed. 

We walked into my bedroom, his eyes locked on mine, he undressed himself again and he grabbed me by the waist, pushing me on the bed. I let him, I knew what he wanted.

He undressed me and started kissing me on my lips, his kiss was soft and gentle. I felt my body melting at the touch of his lips on mine.

His mouth moved down my body until it reached my pussy, I was already wet and aching to be filled.

He started licking my pussy, his tongue was dancing on my skin. I moaned loudly as he touched my clit with his tongue.

He was devouring my cunt savouring the juice that was licking out. The only thing I could do was to push his head deeper into me.

I came hard on his face, my juices gushed out, and he drank it all. He licked my pussy clean and then came to kiss me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue. 

" Please fuck me, baby." I begged him, he looked hesitant for a moment. 

" I'm afraid not to last enough inside of you." he breathed out. 

He was so cute in this situation. " Just take me as you please and don't worry of anything else." I incited him.

He positioned himself between my legs and grabbed his cock in his hands, he rubbed it against my pussy, letting his precum mix with my own juices.

" Please." I begged him again. He pushed himself in, his dick stretching my pussy out so good.

He was gentle inserting inches by inches inside my cunt till he had buried himself completely inside me. I moaned at the sensation of being full, he felt so good inside me.

" Move, baby." I murmured. “I’m all yours."

He leaned on my body, resting his head on the crook of my neck, his breath was hot on my skin. He began thrusting in and out my body slowly, he was trying to last as long as he could. 

" Harder." I whispered in his ear.

He obliged me picking up the pace and fucking me like an animal, his hips bucking wildly against mine. His balls were smacking my ass loudly and my tits were bouncing with every thrust.

I was in total bliss of pleasure, his dick was big enough to satisfy me completely without hurting too much. 

" If you keep going like this, you are gonna make cum again." I purred into his ear obtaining a bite on my neck. 

My hands scratched the soft skin of his back making him groan and sped up his pace, he was fucking in earnest.

"Oh fuck." I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist forcing him to go deeper in me. " I'm cumming." I screamed.

He fucked me through my orgasm, his dick twitching inside me, his pelvis grinding against mine.

" I can't hold it back anymore." He cried out.  I kissed his lips passionately, taking control of my actions.

" My pussy is yours, fill me whenever you are ready." I whispered in his mouth.

He lost all the control he had. His lips sucked my lower lip like it was a sweet, his hips motioned wildly for two minutes more before erupting. He came copiously, ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and filling me entirely. 

His thrusts slowed down until he came to rest inside of me, his dick still throbbing with pleasure. He broke our kiss, looking me in the eyes. He smiled shyly at me.

" Thank you, mum." he said softly. 

" Anytime, baby." I responded and kissed his forehead.

He pulled out of me, his dick wet with my juice and his seed. He cleaned it on the sheet and then crawled in my arms, his head resting on my chest. I wrapped him in my arms holding him tight as he looked at me with love and devotion. 

I kissed his head and looked at the digital alarm on my nightstand he had lasted a little less 10 minutes inside of me and he had made me cum. It wasn't a bad performance per se but it was far away from the best I've ever had. 

" Good first time, for someone like you." I told him. 

His body stiffened, his eyes didn't show love anymore. " Someone like me." he quoted my words. "I get what you are not saying." 

He broke my hug and rolled out of the bed his face was a mask of sadness and anger. 

" Baby you misunderstood me." I tried to defend myself by sitting on the bed. 

" I did not. I've clearly seen with Momo and that man what someone well-endowed can get out of a woman. Someone like me isn't born with those genes." he remarked. " Speaking of genes, my biological parents literally abandoned me. You just tried to polish someone else's garbage."  his voice was broken but he didn't cry. He seemed to truly believe what he was saying. 

Bowing he left the room. No slamming of the door, no screaming, no crying, he was painfully calm.

I went to his door, which was closed, sobbing I stated. " All you said is wrong. You are my treasure." 

I waited for a few minutes without getting any response, it was getting way to late not to sleep so I got back to my bed sobbing to sleep. 

The day after I knew he had an early morning class at the Opera so I took my time to get there following my schedule of trainings. 

I walked into the main dancing studio where almost all the dancers were rehearsing for the upcoming play. 

" Come on. Do a proper Grand Jeté." Mr.Lafayette exclaimed. 

I moved a little bit to watch who was jumping and my eyes landed on my son, who was in the middle of the jump when he met my gaze;  losing control of his body. He landed crashing on the wooden floor, he immediately screamed in pain touching his right knee. 

He was hitting the floor with his hand, I was there in a flash. " Baby, I'm here." I murmured kneeling beside him. " Let me see what you have done to your knee." 

His blue eyes were brimming with tears. " Don't touch it." Mr. Lafayette yelled. " We cannot do anything for him till the paramedics are here." 

" If I'm correct, and rarely I'm not about this kind of event he has broken the ACL. His career is over." He concluded by speaking with decades of experience in the dance world. 

My son laughed hysterically. " Just great, I screwed up the only thing I was barely decent at." 

I  could feel myself dying inside, my baby was broken, his career was over and he was feeling so miserable. I knew I had to take care of him. " It's not a problem, you can do something else." 

" Such as? The only thing I'm good at is dancing, now that's gone." He sighed. I was about to retort but the ambulance staff arrived making everyone move. 

I stayed there frozen, it was like someone had punched me in the gut. " Mina, get a move." I heard Mr. Lafayette's voice. 

My son was put on a stretcher ready to be carried on the ambulance. "Anyone who wants to follow him?" One of the paramedics asked.

 I raised my arms to make me noticed, but Mr.Lafayette put my arm down. " We need you here, the first play of the new show is in 36 hours." there was nothing wrong in his statement if not my willingness to follow my baby. 

" Let's go please." My son yelled and the ambulance staff did his job carrying him to the vehicle. 

My heart sank one more." Mina, I'll be in touch with the hospital. Do not worry." Mr Lafayette affirmed patting my back.

The rehearsal kept going, I performed at the best I could even though I was far from my usual standard. We ended up dancing when it was over midnight, it was pointless to rush to the hospital now, they would have never let me go through.

" Mina, I'm deeply sorry to inform you that the medics confirmed my idea about the injury. He will be under surgery in two hours from what I've told." He affirmed. " Tomorrow I'll start a casting to find a new dancer for his position in the ballet." he concluded.

I nodded accepting his decision and walked out of the room. I went to the dressing room and changed back my clothes. I grabbed my bag and left the Opera Garnier. 

It was still raining, my eyes were brimming with tears and my heart was aching. My baby was about to go under surgery and I wasn't by his side, I've never felt so miserable. 

The next day was as awful as the previous one, with hours and hours of dancing to get ready for the first play. The chance to see my son today seemed a mirage. 

" Mina, I've been informed that your son will be discharged today at 5 pm. I'm sorry but I cannot let you go home that early he will be assisted by some para-medics during the whole process." He told me. 

I did my best to focus on what I was doing to wrap up the day as soon as I could to rush home to my baby. 

The time seemed to slow down but we got finally to the end of the day, I rushed to my flat to find my baby lying on the sofa, he had a bandage on his knee. 

" Hi, baby." I saluted him. "How are you feeling?" 

" Like shit, literally shit." he hissed. " My world has crumbled apart, I don't have anything more." his voice was awfully sad. 

 He started crying, his whole body was shaking from the grief.

I could not stay away anymore, I rushed to his side and took him in my arms. I held him tightly. " Everything will be alright, baby. Your mother is here." I soothed him. He let himself go, his body relaxed in my embrace and he continued crying. 

" I despise myself." he confessed. " I despise everything about me." 

" Don't say such things." I rebuked him. "You are the best thing that has happened in my life." I declared kissing his forehead. 

His blue eyes looked up at me, they were brimming with tears. " Sweetening the reality won't change anything." He affirmed bitterly.  

" What are you talking about?" I asked him. He grabbed my hands and placed them on his face. His cheeks felt so soft under my hands, I loved him so much.

"You are beautiful, you are perfect in every single way." He explained to me. " I have been broken since I got abandoned by my parents, you tried to fix me but the cracks are still there. I don't deserve a person like you in my life." He said sadly.

His words hurt me, I felt like I was losing him. I tried not to break down in tears. I looked at him straight in the eye, my gaze was firm. " You are wrong." I affirmed. " You are the one I've always needed, you are the best thing I've ever known." I was telling him the truth, I loved him more than words could explain. " Your parents are the ones who don't deserve you. You are such a good kid." I stated, my voice was getting weaker. 

He laughed bitterly. " Little white lies. I have got a broken knee, I've failed you and myself. I've proved not to satisfy you properly, I'm just someone you spoiled over the years without getting anything. I'm a failure." 

"You are not, baby." I soothed him.

I couldn't take anymore. He was breaking my heart more and more. " I'll go to take a shower, don't move from here." I ordered him.

He nodded and I went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I let myself fall on the ground crying out loud. I cried and cried till my body didn't have any more tears to produce. 

I cleaned my tears and took a shower. I dressed up in a nightgown and got back into the living room. He was still on the sofa. He looked up at me. His blue eyes were red from the tears, his hair was a mess and he looked so sad. I sat beside him and took his hand. 

I kissed the back of his palm softly. " Do you know how much I love you?" I questioned.

" I do. You gave me a home and all I own, I owe you everything." he replied. 

" Don't you love me?" I asked back. 

" I very much do, but I don't deserve you in the slightest.” he affirmed. " You should aim for someone better than me, it should not be too daunting."

I've had enough of his attitude, I slapped him on his cheeks." Enough is enough. I love you and I know you do as well, we are together whether you like or not." I felt better after my outburst. 

" Please kiss me." he said on the verge of crying again. 

" I will kiss you till the end of the days, but stop whining you have me by your side." I stated kissing him.  His lips were soft and warm, they tasted like the Earl Grey tea he loved. 

His hand cupped my neck and he pulled me closer for a deeper kiss. His tongue touched mine and it made my heart flutter. 

I broke the kiss, I wanted to see him happy, so I did the only thing I could think of. " Come with me." I stood up pulling him with me, his eyes looked at me confused. 

I took him into the bedroom and got him to sit on the edge of the bed. He watched me undress myself completely, his eyes were wide open in awe. 

" You are so beautiful." he murmured.

I grabbed his hands and made him touch my breasts. He cupped them in his palms pinching my nipples. " Do you like what you see?" I asked. He nodded, he was already hard. I kneeled on the ground and took his cock in my mouth. He gasped and his hand reached my hair.

I sucked him gently, licking him from the base to the tip. He moaned when I licked his head, it was so big and delicious. He was leaking precum in my mouth and it tasted sweet, I swallowed it all. 

" Can I fuck your mouth?" he asked shyly.

I nodded and he started pushing his cock down my throat. I sucked him for a good minute before he came inside my mouth. I swallowed all of him and licked his cock clean. 

" It's my turn." I said making him lie on the bed. 

I straddle his hips paying attention not to touch his knee and rubbed my pussy against his hard cock. He groaned feeling how wet I was. His hand grabbed my tits and pinched my nipples. 

" Take me, Mina." he moaned.

I lifted my hips and lowered myself on him, he filled me completely. His cock felt so good stretching my pussy out. His hand touched my waist and his pelvis started bucking up. 

" Ride me, please." he asked softly.

 I started bouncing up and down on him. His cock was sliding in and out of my pussy so good. His hands were groping my tits and his breathing was heavy. 

" Yes, baby." I moaned riding him. " Yes." 

He groaned in response. His hips were moving faster and faster, his cock was going deep in my pussy. 

I lowered my torso lying on him, my lips trailing a path of wet kisses on his neck. His arms wrapped around my back locking me in that position, his hips pounded me way faster than he did the first night. My climax came out of nowhere, I squirted on his body shuddering in his arms.  

His lips met mine and took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue inside my mouth he started licking me like a wild animal. 

He was so close to ejaculate, I could feel his cock throbbing inside me. I started grinding my pussy against him, I wanted him to feel how wet and warm I was. 

"Oh god." he groaned. " Mina." his cock spurted out cum deep inside me and his body went limp. 

I rode him through his orgasm, my inside was filled to the brim with his seed.

I laid on his chest, his arms were still wrapped around my back. " I love you." he whispered. His voice was soft and his breath was hot on my skin. 

" And I love you." I responded kissing him again. He tasted so good and sweet. We fell asleep in each other's arms. My heart beating for him and his beating for me. 

He woke up a few hours later, I could hear him sobbing silently. He was still holding me tight. " What's wrong?" I asked him softly, kissing his cheek. 

" Nothing." he lied.

" Tell me." I insisted. 

" I'm scared of losing you." he affirmed.  His voice was so sad that I had tears running down my cheeks. 

" Do not worry, baby. I will never leave you." I promised. " You are mine." I added kissing his lips.

The next day I had the first play of the new show, and my baby had to stay home due to his condition. I'd have loved to have him there watching me, luckily all went as good as planned. We got 5 minutes of standing ovation, I felt so proud of myself. 

After the standing ovation, the whole troupe of dancers went to a restaurant to celebrate the success of the show. I drank more than I ever did, feeling that I deserved it after all the troubles I went through in the past few days.

Jean-Pierre was there with us, he ended up sitting beside me and we talked for a while. I was drinking my second glass of wine when he kissed me. The kiss was wild and passionate, his tongue was dancing against mine. 

The party ended up sooner than I expected and Jean-Pierre accompanied me home. He kept kissing me the whole way, his hands were all over my body.

We got to my front door and he kissed me again. His hands were rubbing my thighs under my white skirt and his dick was already hard against me.

" Do you want to get inside and have some more fun?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded shyly. I couldn't deny him anything, his touch felt too good and my control was gone by the alcohol.  

" We have to be quiet." I murmured opening the door. 

My baby was on the sofa sleeping. 

 Jean-Pierre's hands were still groping me, he closed the door behind us and pushed me against it, kissing me wildly. His dick was pushing against my stomach, I was melting in his embrace. 

" Oh god." I moaned. His lips left a trail of kisses on my neck, I had goosebumps all over my body. 

" Strip yourself." Jean-Pierre ordered me. His tone was low and commanding, I felt myself getting wet. 

I obeyed him and took off my white top, leaving my body bare from the waist up. His eyes feasted on my tits, they were already hard from the stimulation. 

He lifted me up on his shoulder like I was a feather, once in front of the sofa besides the one my son was sleeping he made me stand up while he plopped on the empty sofa.

" With all the house free to fuck you picked it here." I asserted whisper-shouting. 

" I wanna see how long you are gonna be able to stop your screaming while I fuck you." he smirked and remove the last piece of clothing he had on.

His dick was hard and pointing at me, the head was leaking precum. " Get on your knees." he ordered. " And suck me." his tone was cold and commanding. 

I had to admit that it turned me on, I loved being dominated by him. I obeyed his command and kneeled in front of him, taking his cock in my hands. I licked the head, tasting his precum and savouring the sweetness.

" Suck it, don't lick it." he growled. 

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked him in, he hit the back of my throat with his length, making me gag. He grabbed my hair and made me suck him deeper. 

" Swallow me." he ordered. I obeyed him, I knew he would not stop until I did as he pleased.

He started fucking my mouth in earnest, his thrusts were merciless and his grip on my hair was hurting. Tears were streaming down my cheeks but it was not enough for him to stop, he kept going till my whole face was wet. 

" Good girl." he praised me. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and signalled me to turn around. He took me on his lap in a reverse cowgirl position; my hands were on his chest to balance myself. 

His cock rubbed against my pussy, it was dripping wet from the sucking. I gasped when he pushed the head inside me, my pussy was stretched to its limits, his dick felt way bigger than I remembered.

He filled me up easily, his butt was out of the sofa making him able to fuck me with all his might. He held my waist and started pounding me, his cock slid in and out of my pussy at a very fast pace. 

My pussy  was stretched out by his cock and fucked me wildly, making my tits bounce with every thrust. His pelvis slapped my ass loudly. I bit my lips to keep my moans silent. 

He manoeuvred his hand on my cunt, and his fingers rubbed my clit furiously, bringing me on the verge of cumming. 

He sped up his motion, the head of his dick was hitting my G-spot, making me feel too good.           " FUUUCK.” I screamed at the top of my lungs unable to keep my mouth shut.

My body started trembling and my pussy spasmed around him, cumming on his cock. 

He kept pounding me through my orgasm, his hand were holding me in place on his lap and I could do nothing but take it. His pace was fast and merciless. He was using my pussy as he pleased, I was just a toy for him, a vessel to be fucked and used.

My eyes darted towards my son who was now fully awake, he was looking at me with an unreadable expression. 

Jean-Pierre kept plowing me as mighty as he could, sending shivers down my spine. My pussy was dripping wet around his dick, it was making squelching noises every time he thrust in and out. 

"Stop immediately." I urged him. My voice was weak and I was trembling from the pleasure.

He did as told. His cock popped out of me and I collapsed on the floor, he stayed seated on the sofa behind me.

" Get out of this house." I ordered him. 

" Are you leaving me with blue balls?" he smirked taking his fat cock in his hand. 

" Yesss. Now move your ass and get out." I yelled slowly crawling on the floor towards my son, my legs were numb from all the dance of the last few days and the orgasm I just had. 

" If I must, I will." he agreed. He put his clothes back on and walked away from me. " You can call me if you need anything else." He sent me a flying kiss before leaving the flat.

I crawled to my son's feet and looked at him with my eyes full of tears. He was staring at me with a blank expression, his face was a mask. 

" Baby." I cried. " I'm so sorry." I hugged him. 

He sighed loudly. " Why did you bring him here?" his voice was way too calm. 

 " Baby, I've drunk too much and things got out of hand. But please let me tell you that he is not better than you. He has a bigger member but you please me as he does, but you don't hurt me and you don't make me feel like an object to be fucked." I confessed sobbing.

His arms pulled me up on his body, and his lips met mine. His kiss was soft and gentle, his tongue licked my lower lip. 

"Calm down, I got what you said." he soothed me. " Relax, please."

I melted his arms. " Let me take you to bed." I helped him to my bedroom.

" Once my leg feels better I promise I'll be more active in bed." his voice was sweet as honey. 

" Baby, don't worry. You have to go through some rough months with the rehab." I acknowledged. " Now you just gotta lie on the bed, and I'll do the work for us."

I deposited his body on my mattress and carefully removed his clothes. " Wait here, I'll shower quickly. I don't want to mix any trace left by my error with you."

A few minutes later I came back in my room, my hair was still a bit damp from the shower. He was lying on the bed staring at me like a lion staring at a gazelle. 

" You are outrageously good looking." he spoke, I had never been complimented like that. 

" You got yourself to be fucked, as hard as I can go." I warned him, smirking. 

His eyes were wide open and he nodded eagerly. 

I climbed on the bed and started kissing him from the neck, he moaned loudly when I sucked his skin. 

" Let me mark you as mine." I smirked biting his neck a few times, planting a series of hickeys.

 His moans were music to my ears, he was so sweet. 

I went further down on his body kissing and sucking every inch of his skin. I was kneeling between his legs when I got to the promised land, his cock was hard and pointed at the sky. It was already leaking precum, he tasted so good when I lapped it out.

" Mina." he begged me. 

I smiled wickedly at him and wrapped my mouth around his dick. His hands tangled in my hair pushing me deeper on his cock, he was thrusting in and out of my mouth.

" Swallow me, you good girl." he ordered me.

I did as told, swallowing every drop of cum he gave me. My tongue licked his shaft clean and I kissed the head before releasing him with a loud pop.

" I'll take good care of you, baby." I declared.  I was in love with him, he was able to dominate me but never crossed the red line. 

I rubbed his spent dick; it was still half-hard. " Please fuck me now." he pleaded. 

" You'll have to wait a bit, I want you to recover." I teased him, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.  

I bobbed my head along his shaft a few times getting him rock hard again. 

I let his cook free from my mouth and crawled up on his body.  His lips met mine and his hands grasped my hips making me straddle him. 

I was rubbing my pussy on his dick, getting wetter by the second. I could feel how much he wanted to be inside me, his dick was leaking precum like crazy.

I leaned on his chest and kissed him passionately. I lifted my ass and positioned him at the entrance of my cunt. I slowly took him inside me, inch by inch. 

His moans were getting louder with every inch I took of him. My pussy was stretched by his girth, his dick felt so good inside me. 

When he was fully inside me I planted my hand on his chest and started to grind myself on him. His dick has bottomed out inside me and I could feel the head hitting my G-spot.

" Oh gosh, you are hitting my sweat spot" I moaned keeping up the pace. 

He positioned his hands on my hips, helping me to grind faster and faster. The pleasure made my mind foggy and my eyes unfocused. My pussy clenched around him, and my moans became one single note.

" Baby, I'm gonna cum." I declared.

His hands slapped my ass loudly and he kept fucking me through my orgasm. The waves of pleasure went through my body making me squirt all over the place. 

My body collapsed on his chest, panting soundly. My love caressed my back for a few seconds before closing his arms and holding me in place. 

He started to pound me wildly, hitting my G-spot with every thrust. " I'm too sensitive." I yelled.  

" I know you are enjoying it." was his reply. 

" I fucking do." I moaned in his ear.  His hands slapped my ass repeatedly like it was a drum.

His hips were on over-drive, I arched my back and felt the second orgasm building inside me. This time it would be a bigger one. 

" Oh, god." I moaned as the wave of pleasure engulfed me.

Another flood of my juice just went to drench his body and the bedsheets.

" Please cum, I can't take it anymore." I begged him resting my head on the crook of his neck. 

He fucked harder for a few more minutes I found the energy to lick his face and neck like a hungry wolf, he groaned and his cock twitched inside me. 

" Do it, baby, fill me up to the goddamn brimmmm." I hissed. 

He buried his dick deep inside of me for yet another time and came with a loud moan. His warm seed flooded my insides and his cock kept pulsating inside me for a good minute. 

We lay there entwined in each other's arms till our breathing calmed down and our bodies were not trembling anymore. 

I rolled off him, my body was sore but in the best possible way, it felt like I was floating on clouds. He wrapped his arms around me pulling me in an embrace. His lips were soft and warm against mine.

" You gave me the best sex I've ever had." I confessed. " Let me rephrase that; it was the best love I've ever had." 

" I cannot live without you, you make me feel special." he replied making me feel on cloud nine. 

" Likewise baby, I love you." I confessed again drifting to sleep in his arms.

When morning came I informed the company that I would have taken at least six months off, I needed to take care of my loved one. Mr. Lafayette didn't like the idea but he was forced to do as I wanted promising to let me get back as soon as I was ready.

" Mina, where are you?" I heard my baby calling me from my bedroom. He looked so angelic still half asleep. I felt my heart swelling of love for him.

I joined him on the bed. " I just called the company to take some time off, to take care of your rehab." 

His eyes brightened, we were gonna be spending months and months together. I couldn't understand what kind of pain he was feeling because I had been lucky enough not to get injured that badly.  

" I booked an appointment with a physiotherapist, she will be here at around 3 pm.” I informed him getting a thankful kiss on the cheek. 

I helped him get a bath to remove all the dried cum from the night before and got him dressed. He sat on the sofa while I went into the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

We waited for the physiotherapist on the sofa, my head was resting on his shoulder. 

When the doctor arrived I frowned, she was way too pretty for my liking. 

I went closer to my son and whispered. " Don't do anything stupid with her or I'll cut your dick off."  he gulped at my threat.  I knew he understood me well. 

I took my son to the doctor and left them alone in the bedroom to do their job. I went back to the living room and laid on the couch looking for some yoga plan to practice at home, I had to maintain my flexibility. 

I heard them closing the bedroom door and walked to the living room, she had a smile on her lips and my son had his cheeks flushed. I got jealous for a moment and mimicked the movement of a pair of scissors closing. His flush deepened and the doctor giggled. I ignored her and took my baby in my arms claiming my property over him. 

"He will be able to walk without any problem in six months. I'll visit him three times a week but you gotta help him exercise for a few times a day." the doctor instructed me before leaving us alone. 

" Do I need to grab a pair of scissors?" I teased him.   No, Mina." he moaned in response. " I would never do that."

I kissed him on his forehead and pulled him against me. " Of course you wouldn't." I whispered. I loved him so much that my heart could burst at any moment. 

" Mina, I need your help with the exercises." He stated looking at me with his big blue eyes. I kissed him again, he was mine. 

"I'll do anything to help you." I replied kissing him again. 

The all process of getting back on his feet was tough for the bought of us, the exercises tired him more than he wanted to admit but he kept up with me.

When he started to walk on his feet again barely I was constantly by his side, a few times he fell without compromising the knee. 

" You are too stubborn, let me hold your arm." I yelled at him helping him up from the floor. 

His eyes got watery. " Please, don't be mad at me." his voice made me hug him closer to my chest.

" I'm sorry baby, it's just that has been months since we've been out of this house for more than a day." I caressed his hair. " I'm just frustrated and worried about you."

He snuggled on my chest. " I'll follow your lead more diligently." he promised.

I smiled and kissed the top of his head. " That's a good boy." I praised him. He loved to be treated like that, it made him feel good. 

The days kept passing and my baby was recovering at the speed of light. After six months from his injury, he was able to walk and run without any problem. I had kept my word and was back to my job as one of the main dancers of the company. 

" Baby, do you want to join me for the new ballet?" I asked him. We were in my bed cuddling like we usually do after a day of dancing.

" Dance is a closed chapter for me." he stated sobbing. " I'm too afraid of getting hurt once more. You have been splendid with me in these six months, I don't know what I would do without you."

I felt a slight pang of disappointment, I had hoped he would get back to dance. 

" You are gonna find your way, you have the potential to do all you want." I told him.

His eyes sparkled like he had come up with an idea.

" Tomorrow I'll get out quite early, do not worry" he asserted. 

It was strange tomorrow was Sunday, where could he go on a Sunday morning?

My train of thought got interrupted by his hand on my tits, kneading them through my sleeveless black top.

" What you think you are doing?" I teased him. 

" Turning you on." his began to lick my right armpit painting a trail of saliva under my collarbone before ending on the other armpit. 

It made me feel so nasty. " Yes, you are baby. Give me more." I pleaded him. He kissed the space between my tits and then down my abdomen. His tongue danced on my skin, I felt like a goddess.

He reached for the elastic band of my skirt and pulled it down with his teeth, making them fall to the floor. I was wearing a thong, it had to be easy to remove but he decided otherwise. 

His teeth bit my right thigh and pulled the fabric down, doing the same with the other leg. 

" God." I moaned. I had never felt so horny.

He threw my underwear in the corner of the room. " Open your legs for me." he instructed me. I complied, letting him have access to my pussy. He kneeled in front of me and parted my lips with his thumb and index finger. He blew a hot stream of air on my pussy and I gasped.

He licked my clit lightly and his tongue went further down to the entrance of my pussy, teasing it before getting back up. My legs were trembling and my heart was pounding. 

" Fuck me, baby." I begged him. " Fuck me with your tongue." 

He obliged me and licked me up and down before focusing on my clit; he sucked it eagerly. I was moaning his name loudly, and my body was shaking from pleasure.

" Stop or I'm gonna cum." I warned him.

He laughed in response and kept sucking my clit like his life depended on it.

I grabbed his hair with my hands pulling it up. " You little brat." I said before pushing his head in my pussy.

He licked my hole, his tongue was fucking my pussy like a cock. I arched my back and my body went through an intense orgasm. I squirted all over his face, his chin and mouth were covered with my juice. 

 I pulled his head up to mine and licked my juice from his face thoroughly.

He kissed me again. " Lie on your stomach." he purred in my ears. " I wanna fuck you.”

I obeyed him and laid on my belly on the mattress. His cock was hard as steel, he slid it in between my ass cheeks and rubbed it against my back. He leaned on me, his body was covering mine completely. His lips brushed against my ear.

" Are you gonna fuck me?" I whispered.

" Yes, I am." his voice was so soft. He pulled my hair back, exposing my neck. His teeth bit me softly, I liked being marked by him, it was our way of expressing our love.

He positioned his cock at the entrance of my pussy waiting to fuck me. " How do you want it?" he asked me.  

" Hard and without mercy." I replied. " Use me as you please."

He grunted at my words and pushed his cock inside me. It was like the whole universe had stopped, he filled me up like no one else could do. 

" You feel so good." I moaned.

He started fucking me without mercy like I wanted, his dick was going in and out of me at a fast pace. His pelvis slapped my ass making me moan louder and louder. 

My pussy was clenching around him like it never did before, I could feel another orgasm coming. " Baby, please go faster." I urged him. 

He pounded me harder and faster, his breathing was heavy in my ear. I held the bedsheets in my fist trying to keep my whole body still. 

His hands held my tits under my body, squeezing them hard. I liked it a lot, I was on the edge of coming. 

" Oh god, oh god." I kept chanting like it was my mantra. He fucked me through my orgasm, his cock hit my G-spot over and over. 

My orgasm was too intense, my whole body shook violently. His arms pulled me up till my back was leaning on his chest. 

He sank his teeth in my shoulder making me shiver, his tongue licked the blood that came out from my flesh. 

" Come with me." he pulled out and dragged me to the edge of the bed. He was standing outside of the bed, I spread my legs as wide as I could. 

" Now I'll fuck your brains out." he promised. His cock slid in my wet cunt easily, his hands gripped onto my soft thighs. He was thrusting inside me like a wild animal. His hips were pounding my pussy at a fast pace, it felt so good, and my moans echoed throughout the whole flat.

" Oh god." I yelled loudly. His cock had hit my G-spot yet another time, another orgasm was incoming. I clenched my pussy around him, wanting to feel every inch of him.

" You are gonna make me cum again." I cried, his hands explored my body, and my tits became 

 his new toy.

 His fingers pinched my nipples, making me scream in pleasure. 

He was fucking me wildly and his hands groped my tits, my orgasm was yet another time stronger than the previous one. My whole body was convulsing violently; each thrust sounded wetter and wetter. 

" Baby, you are splitting me apart." I moaned. 

He lifted me up in his arms, my legs wrapped around his hips. He kissed me deeply before biting my lower lip, it felt so hot. His cock stayed deep inside me all the time, stretching me out to my limits.

His hands her on my ass cheeks and squeezed them hard, I moaned louder, I could feel my pussy getting even wetter.

He began to move my body up and down on him, his hands were on my ass. His cock was moving in and out of my cunt at a fast pace.

" Oh god, please don't stop." I begged him, my arms were wrapped around his neck.

" I won't, I promise." he whispered in my ear before biting it. His breath was hot on my neck, it made me shiver. His lips kissed my neck and his tongue licked my skin, leaving a trail of saliva. 

He walked to the wall and slammed my back on it, fucking me in the earnest. My tits bounced with each thrust he gave me. His breathing was heavy on my ear.

I kissed the side of his neck and sucked a patch of skin, he moaned loudly. I sucked a little bit harder till his skin was red from the hickey, he gasped at the pain. I kept sucking it like a leech till it was dark red. 

" I'm gonna cum again." I whispered in his ear, his whole body went stiff, and he started pounding me even harder.

His cock felt like it was expanding inside me and his pelvis slapped my ass, making me moan loudly. He fucked me through yet another orgasm. 

My whole body was shaking from the pleasure. His hand cupped my face and kissed me deeply, his tongue danced with mine.

" Cum inside me." I moaned desperately. " Please." I begged him.

My beloved baby obeyed my request, making me jump on his cock driving me insane.  

He moaned my name loudly and came inside me, filling my pussy with his warm seed. His dick throbbed inside me and he kept thrusting for a few seconds. I was trembling from the pleasure he gave me. 

I kissed him, trying to take away the oxygen from his lungs. His hands held my head, not allowing me to separate from his lips. 

He slowly made me stand on the floor, his cock slid out of my cunt with a wet squelch. My knees gave up and I collapsed on the ground, panting soundly. 

Like a knight he carried me on his bed, mine was a mess. 

" Sleep tight." he told me spooning me.

I woke up late, my body was shattered. My son's side of the bed was cold but still smelling like him, I was so chuffed to be with him. 

My phone chimed on his nightstand, he might have brought it here before leaving. 

The text was from him. " Hey, Mina. I went out to meet with a person, I'll be home soon." 

I questioned who he could have wanted to meet on a Sunday. 

My curiosity was answered a few moments later when my baby entered the flat holding a bunch of papers in his arms.

He kissed me on the lips. " I wanted to surprise you." he explained. 

" Surprise me?" I repeated. He handed me the papers and I read what was written on it. 

I was so happy I almost cried. 

" It's my contract with the dance company, I asked to work as Mr Lafayette's assistant.” he affirmed proudly. " He told me to study to become a choreographer, while my day job will be to take care of a certain ballerina."

My eyes widened, and I hugged him tightly. " Thank you, thank you, " I said. 

I knew that he had done it to be near me and I was so grateful. I kissed him deeply. 

His beautiful blue eyes stared at me in adoration. 

" Never divert your gaze from me. You are my baby blue love." My heart was stuck on him.

[suzukiblu]

Day four of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Sidewalk,” he says, quick and abrupt. “Uh–please. Just . . . can we land somewhere?” 

He needs to think straight, and he needs to take a step back, and he needs to–compartmentalize, and focus. 

Kon’s talking like–Kon’s acting like– 

Robin’s met a lot of people who feel like they need to sell themselves in one way or another, and a lot of kids who don’t act quite like–who aren’t– 

He doesn’t exactly like to think it, but right now Kon’s reminding him of some of the abuse and trafficking victims he’s met; the call girls and rent boys and just . . . 

Just the kids who act like somebody gave them a script, instead of like they figured out what they wanted to say for themselves. 

“Um–yeah, sure,” Kon says, just barely frowning, which is probably because Tim is having a very hard time acting okay about Kon talking to him like an escort chatting up a client or–

He really cannot act okay about that, no. 

It makes him think about Cadmus taking advantage of Kon’s time and life for barely anything more than room and board and wonder just what Kon was doing in Hawaii and just what kind of girls he’s dated, and–

He really, really cannot act okay about this at all. 

Kon shifts his grip on him and then flies them down to the mouth of an alley that opens out onto a sidewalk–again, terrible Gotham survival instincts, but Tim really doesn’t have the bandwidth to get into that right now–and lets Tim down onto the concrete and gravel. Tim takes a step back from him and clears his throat, trying not to be–not to seem–

Robin knows how to talk to escorts and prostitutes and victims and people who think they’re a product in just about every possible situation. Because obviously he does, and of course he does. There is just–there’s not a situation in which a Robin wouldn’t know how to do that. That’s just not a thing. 

But Tim Drake doesn’t know how to talk to Kon-El in this situation. 

“Thanks,” he tries awkwardly, and Kon shifts his weight and looks like he’s about to hunch his shoulders, but instead visibly redirects to stand up straighter; links his hands together behind his back. It pushes his chest out a little, and the way he’s standing is–

The way Kon’s standing is a display, even now. 

It always is, isn’t it. 

Tim thinks about the stupid teen-magazine poses, and thinks maybe he wasn’t actually prepared enough for the kind of relationship that involves paying for literally everything in the life of someone who views themselves as . . . whatever, exactly, Kon views himself as. 

Tim didn’t actually realize Kon viewed himself as anything but a superhero, and didn’t really follow through the logic of what somebody who thinks their entire purpose in life is to be useful might . . . assume here, maybe.

“Did I do something wrong?” Kon asks, looking uncomfortable. Tim tries to figure out how to say yes but I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was actually someone ELSE doing something wrong and you not knowing that said something WAS wrong in a way that won’t sound patronizing or too heavy or make Kon get defensive or just ditch him or–“I, uh–I just haven’t really done it before–with a guy, I mean–so I just . . . well, you can give me some tips, right? I’m not, like–I’m up for anything, y’know?” 

Tim hates this conversation.

[wethotcrazy]

Buona Fortuna

pairing: Mercedes F1 Team! Kimi Antonelli x F1 Academy Driver! Reader

word count: 5500

trying out some new stuff, but chat i fear i cooked a little too hard. also if you like this tell me (i might make more parts to it), and sorry for the sudden change i just wanted it to be all in one part instead of two.

The Mercedes F1 hospitality area was nearly empty at 11 PM, save for two figures huddled at a corner table. Kimi Antonelli, still in his team polo despite the late hour, sat across from Y/N, who was surrounded by engineering textbooks and a laptop displaying race telemetry data.

"You know," Kimi said, sliding a fresh cup of coffee toward her, "most people would think I'm crazy for spending my free evening watching someone study thermodynamics."

Y/N looked up from her calculations, offering a tired but genuine smile. "Most people would think I'm crazy for studying thermodynamics between F1 Academy practice sessions."

"That's why you're you," he replied with a soft smile, a familiar warmth of admiration in his voice.

Their friendship had always been like this – comfortable silences, shared understanding, and mutual support that went beyond their racing careers. It started back in their Prema days when they were both trying to navigate the delicate balance between racing and high school.

While Kimi had treated academics as a necessary obligation, Y/N approached it with the same passion she showed on track. He remembered watching her in awe as she'd switch seamlessly between analyzing racing lines and solving calculus problems during their breaks.

"How do you not get burned out?" he'd asked her once during their Prema days.

"Because I love both," she'd answered simply. "The racing helps me understand the physics, and the physics helps me understand the racing. They're not separate things in my mind."

That response had stuck with him, reshaping his own approach to racing. While he might not share her enthusiasm for academic pursuits, her words had taught him that true excellence came from understanding every aspect of what you do.

Now, a couple of years later, he found himself gravitating toward her study sessions whenever their racing schedules aligned. Sometimes he'd ask questions about the engineering concepts she was learning, genuinely curious about how they applied to their cars. Other times, like tonight, he'd simply keep her company, finding inspiration in her unwavering focus.

"Remember when you posted that congratulations message when we  graduated?" Y/N asked suddenly, looking up from her textbook.

Kimi grinned. "How could I forget? 'Proudest teammate award goes to @KimiAntonelli,'" he quoted the replies that had flooded in. "I meant every word of it, you know. Still do."

"You always have been supportive," she laughed, but her eyes showed deep appreciation.

"You know, I joke about you being a nerd all the time, but..." he paused, gathering his thoughts. "Watching you excel in both worlds, it made me realize I wasn't pushing myself hard enough in some areas. When I'm tired after a long day of practice and all I want to do is sleep, I think about you studying after equally long days. It makes me want to be better, to understand more, to push harder."

Y/N set down her pencil, touched by his honesty. "Kimi..."

"I mean it," he continued. "Everyone in F1 asks me about my rapid rise through the ranks, but they don't see what I see. They don't see my friend who's working twice as hard, not just winning races but understanding the very science that makes these cars work."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Y/N returned to her studies and Kimi started reviewing his own race data on his tablet. This had become their routine whenever their race weekends coincided – her studying, him working, occasionally breaking the silence to share thoughts or ask questions.

"Another win for Y/N L/N!" the commentator announced as she crossed the finish line. "The F1 Academy sensation continues to dominate while pursuing her mechanical engineering degree..."

After Y/N won her F1 Academy race, Kimi was the first to reach her in parc fermé. As they hugged in celebration, he whispered, "You always make it look so easy."

She laughed against his shoulder. "Nothing about this is easy."

"That's what makes it impressive," he replied, pulling back to look at her. "And don't worry – I saved you a spot in the hospitality area. You've got that fluid dynamics test to study for, right?"

"You're not sick of being my study buddy yet?"

Kimi's expression softened. "Never. Besides," he added with a playful grin, "how else am I going to learn why my car does what it does? My engineers would be proud of how much engineering I've absorbed just from listening to you study."

That evening, as they settled into their usual spot, Kimi watched Y/N dive straight into her studies despite the exhaustion of race day. Her dedication wasn't just about achieving good grades or winning races – it was about pursuing excellence in everything she did. And while he might joke about her being his inspiration, the truth was far deeper than any joke could convey.

Because in Y/N, Kimi saw what true passion looked like. It wasn't just about being fast on track or smart in class – it was about the relentless pursuit of understanding, the dedication to growth, and the courage to chase multiple dreams at once. Her drive pushed him to be better, to learn more, to dig deeper into his own craft.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making her look up from her books. "I know I tease a lot, but you really are an inspiration. Not just to me, I know so many others out there that really look up to you."

Y/N's face softened into a smile. "And you're the best study buddy a racing driver could ask for."

"Even though I still don't understand half of what you're studying?"

"Especially because of that," she laughed. "Your confused face keeps me entertained during the boring parts."

As they settled back into their comfortable routine – Y/N with her studies, Kimi with his race notes – he couldn't help but smile. Some might find it strange that a Formula 1 driver chose to spend his free time watching his friend study engineering, but to Kimi, these quiet moments were as valuable as any time spent on track.

Because it was in these moments that he was reminded of what real dedication looked like, what true passion meant, and how the pursuit of excellence in one area could inspire growth in another. Y/N might joke about him being her study buddy, but in truth, she was teaching him something far more valuable than engineering principles – she was showing him what it meant to never stop pushing, learning, and growing.

And that, more than any podium or pole position, was why his admiration for her only grew stronger with each passing day.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with pre-qualifying preparations, but Kimi's eyes were fixed on his phone screen, watching Y/N's F1 Academy race. He was supposed to be reviewing track data, but he couldn't help himself – her racing style had always captivated him.

"Antonelli!" Ollie Bearman's voice cut through his concentration as his friend poked his head into the Mercedes garage, Haas race suit tied around his waist. "Let me guess – watching Y/N's race?"

Kimi didn't even bother hiding his phone. "She's in P2, fighting for the lead."

"When are you going to admit you're in love with her?" Ollie teased, settling beside him to watch.

"I'm not—" Kimi started to protest, but his words were cut short as Y/N executed a perfect overtake into Turn 1. His involuntary smile said more than any denial could.

"Sure, sure," Ollie laughed. "You've only been like this since our Prema days. 'Y/N's so dedicated,'" he mimicked. "'She's so inspiring. Did you know she got another perfect score?'"

Kimi felt his cheeks warm. "She's my friend."

"A friend you can't take your eyes off of," Ollie pointed out. "A friend whose races you watch while you should be prepping for quali. A friend who—"

"She's through! She's won!" Kimi interrupted, jumping slightly in his seat as Y/N crossed the finish line. Without thinking, he immediately opened his messages.

Kimi: Incredible drive! That move into T1 was pure class. Good luck with studying later - FaceTime after quali? Need to hear all about that overtake 👊

Her reply came quickly:

Y/N: Thanks Kimi! 🏆 Those racing lines finally making sense 😂 Absolutely yes to FaceTime - I'll be watching your quali! Show them how it's done ❤️

The heart emoji made his own heart skip a beat, though he tried to ignore it. His phone buzzed again:

Ollie: I saw that smile when she texted back. You're not fooling anyone 😏

Kimi rolled his eyes, but couldn't completely suppress his grin. His race engineer called him for the final quali briefing, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yet as he slipped into his race suit, he found himself thinking about how Y/N would be watching.

The qualifying session was intense, but knowing Y/N was watching somehow made him push even harder. As he crossed the line to secure P3 in Q3, he could almost hear her cheering.

The moment he parked in parc fermé, he was pulling out his phone, FaceTiming Y/N while walking to his media obligations.

Her face appeared on screen, beaming with pride. "P3! Kimi, that last sector was incredible!"

"Not as incredible as your overtake earlier," he replied, unable to stop smiling. She was sitting at her desk, engineering textbooks already spread out around her, hair still damp from her own podium celebration.

"Are you seriously doing this interview while FaceTiming?" she laughed as he positioned himself for the post-quali interviews.

"You're more important," he said without thinking, then quickly added, "Besides, you can help me with the technical questions about car balance."

A Sky Sports reporter approached, amused to find him on FaceTime. "Kimi, fantastic qualifying! Who are you talking to?"

"Y/N L/N," he answered proudly, turning his phone to show her. "She just won her F1 Academy race today."

"Kimi!" Y/N protested, embarrassed by the attention, but he could see her trying not to smile.

The reporter, well aware of their friendship, played along. "Any advice for him, Y/N?"

"Remember what I taught you about apex speeds," she teased. "It's just like solving differential equations – all about finding the optimal solution."

Kimi laughed, his expression softening in a way that made Ollie, watching from nearby, shaking his head knowingly. "Always the engineer, even on race day."

As he moved through his media obligations, he kept Y/N on the call, their easy banter and shared joy making the tedious process enjoyable. She occasionally chimed in with technical insights that actually impressed the journalists, making Kimi's chest swell with pride.

"You should be studying," he finally said, once he was heading back to the team motorhome.

"I am studying," she protested, holding up her thermodynamics textbook. "I'm just also watching my favorite Mercedes driver crush it in quali."

"I'm the only Mercedes driver you know personally," he pointed out.

"Still my favorite," she winked, and Kimi felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest.

Maybe Ollie was right. Maybe these feelings went beyond admiration and friendship. Maybe the way his day felt brighter when she smiled, the way he looked forward to their study sessions, the way he felt proud of her achievements as if they were his own – maybe it all meant something more.

But for now, he was content to walk through the paddock, phone in hand, listening to Y/N explain her winning overtake while flipping through engineering notes. In that moment, with hundreds of miles between them but their connection as strong as ever, Kimi realized that some feelings didn't need to be admitted out loud to be real.

"Hey," Y/N's voice softened. "You went quiet. What are you thinking about?"

Kimi smiled, watching her juggle her textbook while trying to maintain eye contact through the camera. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even when we're racing so far apart."

Her expression melted into something tender that made his heart race faster than any qualifying lap. "Always, Kimi. We're a team, remember? Even when we're not teammates anymore."

And if Ollie happened to catch him later that night, still on FaceTime with Y/N as she studied and he reviewed race data, both of them fighting sleep just to stay connected a little longer – well, maybe his friend wasn't completely wrong about those feelings after all.

The F1 social media landscape exploded one Tuesday morning when Prema Racing announced their 2025 Formula 2 lineup. Among the names was Y/N L/N, making history as she stepped up from F1 Academy after a dominant season.

Within minutes, Kimi's notification feed was flooded as fans tagged him in the announcement. He didn't hesitate to share his excitement:

@KimiAntonelli: From studying engineering between races to fighting for the F2 championship - this is what dedication looks like! So proud of you @YN_LN! Time to show F2 what you're made of! 🏎️📚

The tweet quickly went viral, but it wasn't just the announcement that caught fans' attention. Within hours, racing fan accounts began sharing compilation videos:

"KIMI AND Y/N: FROM PREMA TO F1/F2 🥺❤️ (a thread)"

The first video showed them as young teenagers at Prema, Kimi helping Y/N carry her textbooks to the engineering room while she explained race strategy concepts. Another clip featured their podium celebrations, where they'd always find each other first for a congratulatory hug.

@F1Moments: "The way Kimi BEAMS when talking about Y/N's achievements? We're not okay 😭❤️"

The clip showed various interviews where Kimi praised Y/N:

"She's not just fast on track, she understands these cars like an engineer..."

"While we're all focused on racing, she's getting perfect grades in mechanical engineering..."

"Y/N shows that with enough passion, you can excel at anything..."

@MotorsportEdits had created a masterpiece: a split-screen montage of their parallel journeys. On one side, Kimi's rise through the ranks to Mercedes F1; on the other, Y/N dominating F1 Academy while pursuing her degree. The video ended with their recent FaceTime sessions during Kimi’s post-quali interview, Kimi turning his phone to face the Sky Sports camera.

#KimiAndYN started trending on racing Twitter.

@RacingNews: "Remember when Kimi brought his phone to post-quali interviews just to stay on FaceTime with Y/N? 🥺"

@F1Academy: "From study buddies to racing's power duo! Congratulations to our champion @YN_LN on her promotion to F2!"

Quote tweeted by @MercedesAMGF1: "Our boy @KimiAntonelli's biggest cheerleader is moving up to F2! 🙌 #KimiAndYN"

The social media storm reached new heights when an old video surfaced from their Prema days:

"Can someone please explain the physics behind this overtake?" Kimi asked in the clip, while Y/N drew diagrams and equations on a whiteboard, both still in their race suits.

"Every time I explain physics, you somehow turn it into a racing question," Y/N laughed in the video.

"Because you make it make sense!" young Kimi protested.

@PremaRacing decided to join the fun, sharing a collection of photos: "Buona fortuna e buon viaggio! #KimiAndYN"

The photos showed their journey: studying together between practice sessions, celebrating podiums, Kimi and Y/N's high school graduation, Y/N watching Kimi's first F1 test from the pitwall while highlighting her engineering notes.

Ollie couldn't resist commenting:

@OllieBearman: "If I had a euro for every time @KimiAntonelli talked about @YN_LN during our Prema days, I'd be richer than Lewis Hamilton 😂"

Y/N finally responded to the chaos with a photo of her and Kimi from their Prema days, both asleep in the engineering room, textbooks and data sheets scattered around them:

@YN_LN: "Some things never change ❤️ Thanks for always believing in me @KimiAntonelli! 📚🏎️"

Kimi's heart skipped when he saw her post. He was in the Mercedes simulator when his phone exploded with notifications, but he immediately took a break to respond:

@KimiAntonelli: "From helping me understand physics to making history in motorsport. Proud doesn't even begin to cover it. Can't wait to share the paddock with you again ❤️"

Later that evening, during their regular FaceTime call, Y/N couldn't stop laughing about the social media storm.

"Have you seen the edits? They found clips I didn't even know existed!"

Kimi grinned, watching her sort through her F2 contract papers while simultaneously organizing her study materials. "My favorite is the compilation of every time I've talked about you in interviews. Apparently, I'm not subtle."

"When have you ever been?" she teased. "Remember when you brought me up during your first F1 press conference?"

"Because they asked about inspiration! And you're..." he paused, his expression softening, "you're the most inspiring person I know."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink. "Keep saying things like that and these fans might get ideas."

"Let them," Kimi said softly, watching her juggle her racing dreams and academic pursuits with the same grace she'd always had. "They're not entirely wrong."

The hashtag #KimiAndYN continued trending well into the night, with fans sharing more memories, creating new edits, and celebrating their journey. But for Kimi and Y/N, it was just another evening of FaceTime study sessions and race discussions, their bond stronger than any trending topic could capture.

@F1Community: "Find someone who looks at you the way Kimi looks at Y/N when she's explaining engineering concepts 😍 #KimiAndYN"

Attached was a recent photo from the paddock: Kimi leaning over Y/N's laptop, completely absorbed as she explained some complex engineering principle, his expression a perfect blend of admiration, affection, and awe.

Some things really never did change.

The Italian summer sun painted long shadows across the Antonelli family's garden as Kimi watched Y/N from the kitchen window. She was curled up in her favorite spot on the outdoor sofa, engineering textbook balanced on her knees, hair gathered in a claw clip. Even on break, some things never changed.

Last summer had been at her family's house – he smiled remembering how her mom had fussed over both of them, making sure they took actual breaks from racing and studying. This year, it was his family's turn to host, and his mother was equally determined to fatten them both up with endless servings of homemade pasta.

"She's still studying?" his mother asked in Italian, appearing beside him with fresh bread for dinner.

"Always," Kimi replied fondly. "But watch this."

He grabbed two glasses of fresh lemonade and headed out to the garden. The moment he sat beside her, Y/N automatically shifted, making space while never taking her eyes off her thermodynamics equations. It was a practiced movement, born from countless study sessions across years of friendship.

"Mum's making that pasta you love," he said, setting her lemonade within reach.

"The one with the pistachio pesto?" Y/N looked up, eyes brightening.

"Of course. She says you're too skinny from all this studying."

Y/N laughed, finally closing her book. "Between your mom and mine, we're never going to go hungry during these summer breaks."

It had become their tradition, these shared summers. Between the chaos of the racing season and now Y/N's university schedule, these precious weeks were their chance to just... be. No pressure, no cameras, no podiums to chase – just them, family, and the Italian summer stretching endlessly ahead.

"Remember last summer when your dad tried to teach me proper Italian, Tuscan?" Kimi asked, settling deeper into the sofa.

"And you kept mixing up your words?" Y/N grinned. "And the look on his face…"

"Hey, I've improved! Besides, you're one to talk – you still use engineering terms in Italian."

"That's different! Those are technical terms!"

Their laughter mingled with the sound of cicadas and the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Y/N's textbook lay forgotten as she tucked her feet under herself, turning to face him fully.

"I love this," she said softly. "How even with everything changing – you in F1, me heading to F2, all the craziness – we still have this."

Kimi's heart warmed at her words. He knew what she meant. These moments were precious: the quiet afternoons studying, the family dinners where their parents swapped embarrassing stories about their karting days, the late-night gelato runs in his dad's old Fiat.

"You know," he said, watching the sunset paint her face in golden hues, "I was thinking about our first summer together, back in Prema. Remember how you made me help you study for physics?"

"You mean how you used every physics problem as an excuse to analyze race strategy?" she teased.

"It worked, didn't it? I understood downforce better after your explanations."

Y/N smiled, reaching for her lemonade. "And now look at us. You're living our F1 dream early, and I'm..."

"Being absolutely incredible," he finished firmly. "Racing, engineering degree, and still finding time to spend summers with me and my crazy family."

"Your family is my family too, you know that. Plus," she added with a mischievous grin, "your mum's cooking alone is worth the trip."

As if on cue, his mother's voice called from the kitchen: "Bambini! Dinner!"

They shared a look – they were hardly children anymore, but to their families, they'd always be those two kids from Prema, dreaming big dreams between study sessions.

"Five more minutes!" Kimi called back, not ready to break this moment.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, a gesture so natural it made his heart ache with familiarity. "Your mom's going to come get us out here if we're late."

"Worth it," he murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight fade. "Besides, you need a break from studying."

"Says the one who spent three hours analyzing race data this morning."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Because..." he paused, smiling. "Okay, maybe we're both workaholics."

"Maybe that's why this works," Y/N said softly. "We understand each other's drive."

The garden was growing darker, fairy lights automatically twinkling to life along the pergola. From the kitchen came the warm sounds of family life – his mother singing along to the radio, his father setting the table, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air.

"Ragazzi!" his mother called again, more insistent this time.

Y/N laughed, standing and offering him her hand. "Come on, before we get in trouble."

Kimi took her hand, but didn't immediately get up, just holding it for a moment. "Thanks for choosing to spend summer here again."

"Always," she squeezed his hand. "Where else would I want to be?"

As they walked toward the house, Y/N's textbook tucked under one arm and their empty glasses in hand, Kimi felt that familiar surge of gratitude. For all their success on track, for all their dreams coming true, it was these moments he treasured most – the quiet evenings, the shared laughter, the simple joy of having her here, making his family home feel even more like home.

"Race you to the table?" Y/N challenged, eyes sparkling.

"You're on, F2 driver," he grinned, both of them breaking into a run like they were kids again.

Some things changed – their racing categories, their achievements, their growing dreams. But this – their summers together, their understanding, their connection – this remained constant, as reliable as the Italian sun and as sweet as his mother's lemonade.

And as they collapsed into their seats at the dinner table, breathless with laughter while his parents fondly shook their heads, Kimi couldn't help but think that of all their victories, all their podiums and poles, this might be his favorite kind of winning.

"And crossing the line to take pole position in, Y/N L/N with a stunning lap!"

Kimi's celebration in the Mercedes garage was immediate and enthusiastic enough to draw knowing looks from his entire team. He was supposed to be preparing for his own qualifying session, but his eyes had been glued to the timing screens.

His phone was already in his hand: Kimi: POLE POSITION!! That sector 2 was absolutely insane! Call later? 🏆✨

Her reply came seconds later: Y/N: Learned from the best 😉 Good luck in quali! I'll be watching between engineering lectures ❤️

"Antonelli!" George Russell called out, grinning as he passed by. "Tell your girlfriend congratulations on pole!"

"She's not my—" Kimi started, but George was already walking away, laughing.

@GeorgeRussell63: Caught our rookie watching F2 quali instead of prep 👀 Wonder why? 😏 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN #Busted

The tweet immediately went viral, with fans cooing over Kimi's obvious pride in Y/N's achievement. The F1 paddock's collective teasing had become relentless since summer break ended.

Later that evening, after both their sessions were done, Kimi settled into his hotel room for their nightly FaceTime call. Y/N appeared on screen, trophy visible in the background, textbooks already spread around her.

"There's my pole-sitter," he beamed.

"There's my Q3 hero," she countered. "P4! Kimi, that was incredible!"

"Thanks to your tip about the kerbs in turn 9—"

A notification interrupted them: @LandoNorris: @KimiAntonelli mate your face literally lights up every time you talk about @YN_LN 😭 Remember when you made us all watch her F1 Academy race during the drivers' briefing?

Y/N burst out laughing. "You did what?"

Kimi's cheeks reddened. "It was an important race! And they all wanted to watch anyway..."

Another notification: @OscarPiastri: Can confirm. He gives us daily updates about both her racing AND her engineering degree 😂 #Whipped

"The whole grid is against me," Kimi groaned, but he was smiling.

"At least Ollie has backup now," Y/N teased, adjusting her laptop so she could better see him while highlighting her thermodynamics notes.

"Speaking of Ollie—" Kimi started, but was cut off by yet another notification.

@OllieBearman: Throwback to Prema days when these two would "study" together but really just stare at each other for hours 👀 #IveBeenSayingItForYears Attached was a photo of teenage Kimi and Y/N in the Prema engineering room, books open but clearly lost in conversation

"We did not stare at each other!" Kimi protested.

"No, you just watch me study every single day," Y/N smirked.

The notifications kept coming:

@CharlesLeclerc: Remember when @KimiAntonelli asked for restaurant recommendations in every city because he wanted to "surprise a friend" during race weekends? 🤔

@CarlosSainz: The friend: @YN_LN 😂

"You asked Charles for restaurant recommendations?" Y/N's expression softened.

"I wanted to make sure you had good places to eat during race weekends," Kimi mumbled. "You forget to eat when you're studying..."

@MaxVerstappen: Called it! Pay up @SChecoPerez - told you he'd watch her quali instead of prep 💰

@SChecoPerez: Next time hide your phone better @KimiAntonelli 😂

Y/N was fully laughing now. "You've got a betting pool on us?"

"The whole paddock apparently," Kimi sighed, but couldn't help smiling at her joy.

@AlexAlbon: POV: You're trying to discuss race strategy but @KimiAntonelli is texting @YN_LN Attached was a video of Kimi smiling at his phone during a strategy meeting

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," Kimi groaned.

"Poor baby," Y/N teased, then her expression turned more serious. "Hey, did you see the analysis I sent about your sector 3? I think if you adjust the entry angle—"

Kimi's heart swelled as she launched into a detailed technical explanation, seamlessly switching between race engineer and student mode. Even with an ocean between them, she was still looking out for him.

@LewisHamilton: Y'all leave them alone - it's sweet 🙌 Some of us remember what it's like to be young and in... racing 😉 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN

Their phones buzzed simultaneously with a message from Ollie: Group chat "Prema Days" Ollie: LEWIS KNOWS 😭 Even the 7-time champ sees it! Just kiss already!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Kimi caught the slight blush on her cheeks. "We should probably study," she said, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Of course," Kimi agreed, already pulling out his own notes. "But first - that move into turn 1 for pole? Walk me through it?"

Her face lit up as she began explaining the technical aspects of her qualifying lap, and Kimi found himself smiling softly, completely absorbed in her enthusiasm. In the background, their phones kept buzzing with notifications, the entire F1 grid apparently determined to point out what everyone else could see.

@ValtteriBottas: Taking bets on how long until they officially announce... their "friendship" 😏

@MercedesAMGF1: The way @KimiAntonelli watches all her races from our garage when we're at different tracks 🥺

@ZhouGuanyu24: Don't forget how he explains her engineering projects to us during track walks! Never seen someone so proud 😂

But for Kimi and Y/N, wrapped up in their own little world of race analysis and study sessions, the teasing was just background noise. Their connection, whether across the paddock or across continents, remained as strong as ever – even if the entire F1 grid seemed determined to turn it into the paddock's favorite love story.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "Earth to Kimi?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

"About how the entire F1 grid is never gonna let up on you?" she teased.

"About how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even from far away."

Her expression melted into something tender that made all the paddock's teasing worth it. "Always, Kimi. Distance doesn't change that."

@OllieBearman: I've been watching this romcom live since Prema and let me tell you, it only gets better 🍿 #KimiAndYN

This time, neither of them bothered to protest.

The blue light of the laptop screen illuminated Y/N's face as she finished highlighting another passage in her thermodynamics textbook. A soft snore made her look up at her phone propped against the desk lamp - Kimi had dozed off during their FaceTime call, his face peaceful in sleep. The sight brought an involuntary smile to her face.

It was typical of their study sessions these days. Between his F1 schedule and her F1 Academy races, late-night calls were often the only time they could catch up. He'd insist on keeping her company while she studied, claiming he was reviewing race data, but more often than not he'd fall asleep to the sound of her pen scratching against paper.

She closed her textbook quietly, though she knew the sound wouldn't wake him - he could sleep through anything after a long day at the track. As she started her bedtime routine, her mind wandered over their relationship, this comfortable space they'd carved out for themselves between friendship and something more.

The paddock gossip was relentless these days. Every shared smile, every supportive tweet, every time he watched her races from the Mercedes garage - it all became fodder for speculation. Even Ollie, who'd known them since their Prema days, wouldn't let up with his knowing looks.

Standing at her bathroom sink, Y/N caught her own reflection smiling at the memory of Kimi's proud face when she'd explained a particularly complex engineering concept earlier. He'd leaned closer to his camera, completely absorbed, that familiar warmth in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

The truth was, she knew how she felt about him. It was there in the way her day felt brighter when his name lit up her phone, in how naturally they'd gravitated toward each other since their junior racing days, in the comfortable silence of their study sessions. But timing was everything in racing - they both knew that better than most.

They were both chasing their dreams at full speed. He was making his mark in F1, living up to the immense expectations placed on Mercedes' youngest driver. She was balancing her engineering degree with her F1 Academy campaign, working toward her own F1 dreams. Adding another variable to that equation felt risky.

Climbing into bed, Y/N glanced one last time at her phone. Kimi had shifted slightly, his features soft in sleep, Mercedes team jacket still on. They had something special - something that had grown organically from shared ambitions and mutual understanding. Maybe that was enough for now.

Racing taught you patience, after all. Sometimes the best moves weren't the boldest ones, but the ones you waited for, setting them up carefully until the moment was just right. For now, she was content with their late-night study sessions, his proud smiles after her wins, the way he'd listen intently to her engineering explanations even when he was exhausted.

"Goodnight, Kimi," she whispered, ending the call. Whatever they were, whatever they might become, it was worth protecting. Some things didn't need to be rushed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from him, sent automatically when their call disconnected: Sweet dreams, engineer. Proud of you always. ❤️

Yeah, Y/N thought, settling into sleep with a smile. They were just fine exactly as they were.

here are some of the tags: @floweringanna, @hiraethberry, @holendernik, @oooom4arie, @burnhampeaches, @dying-inside-but-its-classy

let me know if you want to be added to the list :))

[courtingchaos]

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

[warlocksoup]

SLEAZE ✶⋆.˚ MIYA OSAMU

PREVIEW: taste

SOUNDTRACK: softer, softest by hole

She’s in love with the guy that runs the onigiri shop across from her apartment, which is why she ends up sitting in at the counter every day, half-past noon, eating the same order as the day before. Kenma asked if the food is actually good enough to warrant a daily visit, and she answered yes. Which could be true, but she doesn’t really know. She can’t really taste the food when she eats it.

His name’s Miya, and she hasn’t figured out his given name. He talks to her sometimes, when the lunch rush starts to die down for a second and he has a minute between making and taking orders to wipe down empty counter spots and mingle with his regulars. He asks her how her food is and how she’s been and if there’s anything else he can get her. In her head, she likes to pretend he’s holding back a lot more questions but gets too embarrassed before he can manage to ask to buy her a drink on a Friday night.

There’s a lot of things she likes about him. She likes this soft customer service smile he puts on every time he speaks to her. How polite he is every time he opens his mouth, the low cadence of his voice. How he works in the shop that he owns alongside his employees. How his muscles flex underneath the tight fabric of his work shirt. She likes that not once has he ever asked, “Hey, aren’t you that little kid from Family Sized?”

And she knows that he knows. She once caught him searching ‘little kid from Family Sized,’ on his phone behind the counter when he thought no one could see.

From the window in her bathroom, she can see him unlock the door in the morning and close the shop up at night. She’s developed a routine of it, watching him as she hangs out of her window, smoking a menthol cigarette and fantasizing about what his arms would feel like around her waist.

She likes the relationship they’ve developed in her head. It’s sweet, and simple. It makes her feel loved, the way he theoretically could care about her. Sometimes, she thinks about writing her number down on her receipt, leaving it for him next to a carefully drawn heart and a generous tip. But, she thinks, why should she? He treats her so well in her head. She wouldn’t want to ruin what they already have.

taglist: @kameyyy @wyrcan @angee444 @lale-txt @akaashislovee @localgaytrainwreck @whorefornoodles @baylz @asrichin @miiyas @ferntv @atzixo @kr1nqu @spicana @weezerbby @chaosakademia @theepitomeofswag @qardasngan @tinnierat @gigiiiiislife @acowboykisser @wordsofelie @asnjinj @miakxn

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[lostingrayrain]

hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗

I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....

I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Word Count: 1454

Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence

Mr. Crawling

He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!

Do you love him?

He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.

He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.

He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.

Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.

He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.

If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.

He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.

Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair

You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.

But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.

Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?

Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.

He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.

He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.

He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.

He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.

He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.

Mr. Gap

He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.

You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.

When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.

He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.

He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.

He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.

But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.

He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.

Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.

Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.

Mr. Hood

He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.

You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.

No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.

He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.

Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.

He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.

Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.

He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.

But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.

He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.

Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.

But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.

Mr. Machete

He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.

Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.

It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?

He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.

But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.

Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.

He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?

He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.

He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.

Mr. Scarletella

You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.

You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.

You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.

He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.

He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.

Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.

Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.

[revelboo]

Thundercracker crumbs? 🫣 maybe Skywarp finding out about his human?

Skywarp will figure it out quickly, but not quite yet

Better Open the Door Pt 5

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• You’re still upset with him, sitting with your back to the wall and your legs drawn up. Frowning up at him when he enters his quarters. “You have to eat,” he says, venting heavily when he notices the food he left you is untouched. “I’m not really such bad company, am I?” He means it as a joke, but you just lay your chin on top of your knees, your arms wrapping around your legs. And stare at him, making that coiling unease wrapped around his spark dig in a little harder.

• He’s trying to make you smile, because he can’t seem to understand why you’re upset with him. You’re not some star crossed lovers and even if he thinks he’s in love with you, it’s just because of how much silliness he’s filled that processor with. He just wants to be in love. Movie night is now every night and he’s swapped from action movies to only romantic comedies. And you’re convinced that he thinks he’s the lead in one of those movies. Trying so hard to win you over and unable to see how ludicrous it is. “I need to go home. Just take me back and I’ll pretend this never happened,” you say. “We can go back being friends, okay?”

• “We are friends.” And he can’t go back. You’re the one thing he had to look forward to before and those interactions had only been a couple hours. Not nearly enough. Meeting you, spending time with you had just driven home how lonely he was. His trine rarely has time for him, drifting further and further apart since arriving on Earth. He hates the quiet, the silence where there had once been chatter and company. Just play along with him. Smile and talk to him, because whatever this is spreading between you hurts. “If you need something, I can get it for you.” Kneeling in front of the berth, he lays his arms on the surface, palm down and rests his chin on one arm. Trying to look as harmless as he can, his wings drooping. “Smile for me. Please.”

• Another ploy? An attempt to trick you into playing his game? Except, he sounds almost lost. And staying mad at him when he’s essentially giving you puppy optics? Shoulders slumping when he stretches out a servo but stops just shy of touching you. Looking hurt and hopeful at the same time. You’re a fool, but you lay your palm against the tip of his servo and offer him a weak smile. If it’ll satisfy him into letting you go, you can play house with him. Maybe if you get him off the love stories kick, he’ll realize how silly he’s being. That it can’t possibly work between you two, you’re just too different. He’ll get bored and let you go. He has to.

Previous

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Dying’s Up To Me - No Love Love Prologue

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: This is just straight sad angst. I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.

Title from Dog Years by Halsey

Word Count: 4k

Summary/Warnings: A Prologue. Takes place 6ish months before Chapter 1. All the warnings. Mentions of suicide, isolation, and SA without depiction (not by Soldier Boy).

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, angst.

You escaped. You’re looking up and down the highway, at the green trees, all reaching up to the warmth of the sun, and you’re free.

You’re really, finally fucking free.

There’s soot and ash and grime covering your body, but you’re fucking free. You’ve been running for almost a day, and you’re about to collapse, but Homelander isn’t going to find you. He’s not allowed to find you. You’ll burn the whole world before you go back to the lab or the white room. You’ll figure out a way to kill yourself before you go back.

Right now, though, is about going. Just keep fucking going, until you find somewhere that hurts a little less. Not home—you don’t think you’ll ever have home again—but shelter. A place to figure out what comes immediately next, and nothing beyond that. Somewhere empty, where you can’t hurt anyone.

You really don’t want to hurt anyone. There are still the screams and pleas of the scientists and guards ringing in your ears, and their callous, arbitrary expressions had haunted your days, but their melting, flame-twisted faces would follow you into nightmares for the rest of your life. But there hadn’t been another way. You have to keep reminding yourself that there really hadn’t been another way, and you’d never do it again. If you have to, you’ll lock yourself away to never hurt anyone again.

At least this time it would be your choice. And Homelander wouldn’t be there. Nobody would touch you, and that would be fine. Anything would be better than these past few years. Loneliness would be simple, compared to eyes on you always. Cruel blue eyes, telling you that you should be lucky and grateful and to stop fucking crying. Red hands holding you down, and a cold body-

No. You won’t think about it. You won’t let him have that power over you. Another rule, nobody is allowed to have that power over you again. To consume your life like that, and tell you a single fucking thing about yourself.

You find a rest stop, and the sign on the side tells you that you’re still in upstate New York, but the highway markers say you’re at least 30 miles from where you started. And you need some food, and water, and clothing, but you don’t have any money. You don’t have fucking shit, except a foreign, painful itch under your skin and scorched cloth covering your body. You don’t even have shoes, but the heat of the pavement doesn’t hurt you, and if you’ve stepped on glass at any point, there’s no evidence of it.

But you’re still so hungry. And tired. And you just want to sit down and wear something that doesn’t smell like smoke and guts and sanitizer.

And there’s a car with the windows open, and a wallet in the cupholder. No owner in site, the lot itself practically empty.

You take the risk—only forty dollars, and the car is a Tesla, so you don’t feel that bad—and shuffle into the rest stop. You can afford some chips, and a water bottle, and so much New York themed clothing someone would think you’re a sponsor of the state. A hoodie, sweatpants, and a baseball cap and sunglasses that you wear indoors for safety. There’s a Wendy’s in the building, so you get the largest, most disgustingly greasy burger on the menu and drop yourself at one of the food court tables. Ignoring any stares in your direction, you focus on the news—playing on a high-mounted TV without sound—and eat.

Things have changed since you’ve last been outside. A lot of things have really changed. That blonde supe, with the light powers who’d only just joined the Seven before you’d died in every way that mattered, has renounced it. Vought, the Seven, the whole supe-kebab. The newscasters are talking about how she’s accused Homelander of being an abusive, manipulative psychopath, that’s a danger to America and everyone alive.

You could’ve told them that. You have three years of testimony to that very fact, plus a little more you never want to think about again.

Queen Maeve is missing. You’d take a safe bet Homelander’s got something to do with that as well, because when you’d seen him last he was sneering at you about how the only people he respected always fucking betray him, and made you promise once more to never lie to him or hurt him or pretend to know better than he did. You had, because you didn’t have a choice, and the rest of that day was locked deep inside your brain, in a place you’d never open.

Someone who’s apparently very infamous named William Butcher—you’d heard that name before, but you’re not sure where—is working with Soldier Boy, who’s somehow alive and also a threat to America. That’s interesting. Not the threat to America part—you’d take a pretty safe bet than any man with V in his body and sparkling TV persona is dangerous and shouldn’t be trusted—but the alive part. It explained Homelander’s complaints of nobody is stronger than he is last time, and his joking, menacing order to the scientists to not make you too powerful.

You didn’t care about powerful. You didn’t really care about most things anymore, and you’re not sure where you’re going from here, but it’s never within a million fucking yards of Homelander, or Vought, or anything else that might trap you and hurt you. Hopefully this William Butcher guy and Soldier Boy will kill Homelander, and he won’t be your problem again. Blondie can deal with the whole those guys are a threat to America thing after, because right now—as long as they’re only targeting Homelander—you just need it done. A dead Homelander, fast, and quick, and done, so nobody ever had to hurt like this again.

From the rest stop, you wander for a long while more. Down the highway, scratching at your skin to keep the fire in your body, never touching anyone, and stealing money out of cars to keep yourself alive. At one point, you find a public library in a small town—hidden deep in the Berkshires with tall trees that shield you in green light from anyone in the sky—and google yourself.

You’re dead. Very dead. Three years ago you’d died by suicide, leaving a note that said you were jumping off a bridge, and nobody had looked into it further beyond that. Your father had written your obituary, calling you smart, and kind, and determined. And that was it.

Nothing left to go back to.

You make two rules. One, you can never touch anyone again, because you can feel what they feel and it’s not fair.

Two, you’ll never be peaceful again, and that’s fine. You’re too broken to live any sort of normal life, and you’ll be alone, but it’s for everyone’s safety. You’re a danger, Vought’s a danger, and Homelander’s the worst danger of all.

Because Soldier Boy and William Butcher had failed you—they didn’t even fucking know you, but you were still annoyed about it—and Homelander was still fucking alive. Soldier Boy was dead himself, Queen Maeve was dead as well, and even though the news said Homelander was on trial for killing someone in broad daylight, you don’t think that will go anywhere. He was pleading innocent, like a fucking cunt, and a jury would buy it. He had—allegedly—killed that guy for his son, Ryan, who was a very sweet looking boy that you’d heard some very confusing things from Homelander about. How Ryan was strong, and he was proud to have a son, even if the son’s mother was a bitch who’d died like a fucking cockroach. How Ryan was still too human, and was being so mean to Homelander, siding with William Butcher over his own father-

Oh. That’s where you’d heard the name Butcher before. He was the guy that Homelander was always complaining about being an annoying inconvenience, ruining his perfectly good life, always trying to kill him when that was impossible.

Killing Homelander was impossible. Soldier Boy hadn’t done it, and even Blondie—you’ve learned her supe name was Starlight, and her real name is Annie January—had said she thought he could. To be fair, every news report you could find said that Soldier Boy went insane at the end, trying to kill everyone around him without remorse, but it really doesn’t matter in the long run, because Homelander is still alive, and unkillable.

You should leave. You should run and never look back, find somewhere far across the ocean with sunlight and grass and a sky that won’t ever be watching you. But you need to see your grave first. It feels important, for some stupid fucking reason, to sit at your grave and ensure that there’s some evidence you existed. Some proof that, at least before, you were loved and safe. A remnant of that part of you, that will never exist again.

It’s not a fancy gravestone. When you find it—after another week of walking and stealing and trying not to scream at the sky in case it hears—it actually looks a little pathetic. It has your name, and your birthday, and the day that you “died”. It says loving daughter and sister, and that’s it. No real epitaph, just loving daughter and sister.

And you can’t bring yourself to leave. You think you might rot away here, because you can’t actually die, but you can stop being alive. In every way that counts, you’re not alive. You’re alone and cold and the wind is biting at your ears at night, despite the suffocating heat of the day. It rains, a heavy thunderstorm that lasts two nights, and you don’t flinch or catch a cold. So you’ll stay here, and try not to think about how you weren’t a loving daughter or sister. Your mother hated you, and you saw your father once a month but barely spoke outside of that, and all your siblings might have loved you, but you’ll never forgive yourself for leaving them.

Your whole life before this had been about helping people, and all that’s left is a gravestone with a lie about how good you were. No legacy, no flowers resting on the grass in tribute. Only you in the dark, staring at a name that might not be yours anymore, and watching the pine trees in the graveyard sway in the wind of the night.

“You knew her?”

You almost jump out of your skin—nobody visits this place, and you’d come to expect solitude—whipping around to see a large, dark-skinned man with an Outkast shirt, gold chain, and leather jacket standing at your side.

“Sorry?”

The man says your name, nodding to your grave stone. “You knew her?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, keeping your face bored and tone neutral. You don’t know who the fuck this guy is, or why he’s at your grave, and you don’t trust it. You don’t trust anything anymore. “Not well, though. You?”

“Never met her.” The man shrugs. “But I’m a true crime fan, thought I’d look into whatever the fuck happened to her.”

Your nails dig into your skin as you force yourself to remain completely fucking indifferent. “I thought she killed herself. Not much true crime in that.”

“Please.” The man makes a dismissive gesture, and you blink. “Nobody ever found a body, and that’s the first fucking rule of death. You always need to see the body.”

“She jumped off a bridge-“

“Or something else happened.” The man is watching you now, studying your face carefully. You’re going to bite off your tongue. “Something more true crime. You knew her. She seem like the type to kill herself?”

You don’t hesitate to answer. “Yeah, actually. She did.”

The man gives you a frown of light surprise. “Really?��

“She wasn’t exactly a happy person.” You mutter, trying not to choke on bile. “I mean, her life was fine, but she was lonely. History of mental illness, maybe she snapped.”

You wish this man would leave. Just fucking leave you alone, so you don’t have to think about this. You had been lonely, but not like you are now. Things had been getting better before, you’d been getting better before, and now nothing would ever be better again.

But the man hums, still watching you, and stays. “Tragic shit.” He extends his hand. “Marvin Milk, by the way. You?”

You recognize that name. You don’t have a fucking clue from where, but you do. And you hesitate too long, because you can’t shake Marvin Milk’s hand, but you won’t tell him your name. So when you finally speak, you see his face twitch, and you have to get out of here.

“I’m nobody,” you say, and cross your arms. A clear, plain signal that you won’t shake his hand. “And I actually have somewhere to be-“

“Fuckin hell, that’s it.”

Whatever painfully British voice said that came from behind you, and Marvin Milk’s eyes widen.

You haven’t fully turned when something large and explosive hits you, launching your right through your own gravestone and yanking any control over the fire away from your grasp.

You’re burning. The whole fucking world is flame, and there’s no purpose to it. It’s just pain and anger and fire. Trying to find what hurt you—or tried to hurt you, you don’t have a scratch on your body—and hurt it.

You don’t want to hurt it. Your hand has moved to your throat, and you’re gripping yourself with white-knuckles, trying to yank all the fire back into your body. You hate this, and you don’t want to hurt anyone, and people are yelling around you and you’ll never be safe again-

You have to run. Try to get around them, away from them, away from everyone. If Vought, if Homelander, sent them to collect you, you’ll bury yourself so deep in the earth they’ll have to spend a lifetime digging to find you. If they’re the government, they can choke on the fire and smoke—rushing from you like a hurricane, scorching the dirt and grass and night around you—and pass out until you’re far, far away from anyone who will ever know you.

Third rule. The world is burning around you, several voices are shouting Anomaly and it’s making the fire slip further from your grasp, and nobody will be allowed to know you again. Just to be safe, nobody will be allowed past the layer of your appearance and the words that you calculate before they leave your mouth.

People who know you call you weak. And you can’t afford to be weak anymore. There’s so much fucking pain in your body, and you can’t let it control you. You’re moving on pure instinct, trying to just go, fucking run, get away and hide for a million years until this heals itself, but these people are trying to stop you. Through the haze of flame and smoke and pain you can count six of them, but their features are blurred with the rest of the world. They seem to be yelling at each other more than you, scrambling around to try and keep you in the graveyard but away from their bodies. Three of them are running at you, two smaller women and a man, and all of them shouting at the man in particular.

He’s raising something you’re not lucid enough to recognize, but you know it’s aimed at you, and everyone is screaming and shouting and everything hurts-

Something crashes over your body, and the whole world starts to hiss. It’s water—ice-cold fucking water—that’s steaming off your still burning, almost naked body, and it’s brought you down.

But you’re still angry. Everything is sharp and in focus, and now you’re fucking angry. You can see the man clearly before you—Hawaiian shirt, black trench coat, bearded face in a crude smirk that you want to punch—and you’re going to get out of here.

“Pleasure to meet you, Love-“

The man—he’s the British cunt who blasted you through your grave—never gets to finish his greeting. Your punch to his jaw is weak—wrath and a bitter, hollow hole forming in your body from the contact—but your whole body is still alight with flame so it does the trick. You manage push down the guilt that eats you from the twist and sizzle of his flesh, he’ll live, hopefully, and fucking run.

You’re halfway to the graveyard gate when someone tackles you, knocking you to the ground. They’re strong—filled with determination and focus—and you’re burning but they’re not moving off of you. You’re screaming and thrashing, you need to go, this person is touching you and people can’t touch you, can’t hold you, can’t be near you to keep you under them ever again, never fucking again-

“Mon Coeur, you are burning-“

“Unless you got a better plan to keep the human fuckin wildfire down, Frenchie, Kimiko’s gonna be sittin on her until she calms her bloody tits.”

That gets through. They’ll let you go if you calm down.

You don’t know how to calm down. Everything is burning and you can’t calm down, so your hand creeps back to your throat. That’s helped before, yanking yourself down by a brutal anchor, but the fire is out and you can’t pull it back in.

The person above you is suddenly gone, and you think the world might be ending. Everything is burning, but you can’t control your legs or body or brain. Your own screams are hollow in your head, exhaustion settles in your bones, your body aching, and the fire goes dark with your consciousness.

When you wake up—the world a blur you have to blink away—that determination that doesn’t belong to you is still all over your skin, and someone is pinning your arms behind your back. You’re still in the graveyard, kneeling on the grass as dawn cracks the horizon, and there are five people with varying levels of weariness on their faces before you. Watching as you shake yourself awake, their bodies braced as if you might attack them like a feral animal.

You won’t. Right now. You’ll find out who they are, and what they want, then adapt to whatever the situation calls for.

In the breaching daylight, it’s easier to see their faces. Marvin Milk is still there, his jacket slightly scorched—you feel a little bad, it was a nice jacket—and he’s standing next to a shorter, twitchy and wild-eyed man who’s mostly looking behind you. At whoever is holding you. Next to the shorter man is another taller, skinny, anxious looking man, who’s running his hands through his hair and looking around the rest of the group with a nervous expression.

And his side is Blondie. Starlight. Fucking Starlight, in normal people clothing, studying you with a drawn focus and glaring at the man right before you.

William Butcher. You hadn’t recognized him in the haze of your fear and the flame, in the shadows of the night, but that’s him. His face is twisted with a burn, but you’ve seen enough of the news to recognize the fucker.

They’re not with Vought or Homelander. And you still don’t fucking trust it.

You cough, forcing yourself to speak. “What do you want.”

“Look who’s gotten up from her fuckin nap-“

“Shut up,” you mutter, looking over their odd group with narrowed eyes. “I know you idiots, I’ve seen the news. What the fuck do you want from me.”

“That depends,” Marvin Milk crosses his arms, looking you up and down. “You want to tell us who the hell you are, without any lies?”

“Are you going to hit me with a rocket launcher again?”

William Butcher looks like he’s going to sneer something at you, but Starlight cuts him off.

“We won’t. We shouldn’t have,” she shoots Butcher a glare. “In the first place. Please just tell us who you are.”

You chew on your cheek, still not ready to show your cards. “Who do you think I am?”

“We don’t got the faintest idea-“

“Wrong.” You snap. “You clearly have some idea, if you’re bringing weapons and making someone hold me down.” You twist around, and find the owner of the alien determination crossing your skin—a dark-haired, pretty asian woman with an unwavering face—watching you. “You don’t have to restrain me, by the way. I won’t run, and you shouldn’t touch me.”

The woman looks over your shoulder, and Butcher scoffs. “You just tried to bloody kill us, Love, forgive us for making sure you ain’t able to do it again-“

“If I am who you think I am,” you drawl. “Then we both know I could kill you if I wanted to. I’ll talk, but she shouldn’t touch me.”

The wild-eyed man swallows, and speaks with the heaviest French accent you’ve ever heard. “Why may she not touch you-“

“She may,” you shrug best you can with the woman still gripping your arms. “But she shouldn’t. I can feel you,” you turn to the woman once more. “And I can’t help it.”

“The fuck you mean feel her-“

You cut off Milk with a flat look. “I’ll tell you if she lets me go.”

They all exchange looks, Starlight nods to the woman, and when she lets go you’re left alone in your body once more. Empty and tired and alone.

“Awesome,” you rub your wrists, remaining on the ground as the woman rejoins her group. “So? What’s up, cunts?”

They all stare at you, and the tall, nervous one speaks first, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’re, um, looking for you? I think?”

“And who am I?”

They all exchange frowns again. It’s starting to get annoying.

“You’re the fuckin Anomaly,” Butcher grunts, looking over you and saying your name. Your full, real name. “Dead three years ago, clearly bloody alive in front of us, escaped Vought captivity a few months back.”

“Wrong.” You mutter. “Wasn’t Vought.”

Starlight frowns. “But-“

“Was Vought funded. But not Vought.”

“Homelander, ain’t it?” Butcher smirks. “Maeve said you got an agenda-“

“I don’t have anything,” you snap. “What do you want.”

They want you. To fight for them. To kill Homelander.

You can’t kill Homelander. He needs to die, but you can’t kill him. The sky is becoming blue, and you’re becoming cold in the sunlight, and you can’t fight or kill Homelander.

But you can help. You tell them—almost—all your powers. Fire. Feelings. Fucking healing. You even display that last one, placing a light hand on Butcher’s face and manage not to flinch at the hatred and unending fury in his body, or the way everyone faces curl into disgust and horror as your own face morphs and contorts into burn scars, healing within the same second.

You flinch back from Butcher, and they exchange another set of fucking looks before offering you something. You don’t have to fight Homelander, but that healing thing will be useful, and they don’t want to just leave you for Homelander to find. You can go with them—provided you tell them what happened to you and work with them—and you don’t have to decay into a hollow vessel of pain and fire in the graveyard.

You look at your grave, and it's only ruins. Someone might repair it, but you think it might just stay like that. And you don’t want to stick around to find out. There’s birds singing in the trees, and the sounds of life waking with the day, and you won’t fail yourself. You won’t go back, but you want to be the last person who is reduced to a broken grave by Homelander’s hands.

It’s not like you have anything else to waste what might be immortality on.

So you dig your nails into your skin, and agree to their terms. You leave the graveyard with the Boys—that’s a stupid fucking name for a team, but you don’t tell them that—and make a fourth rule. The first three can be inherent. Don’t touch anyone, never rest, and never let anyone know you are all for survival. They’ll ring in the back of your head without reminder, because they’ll be instinct. Stay free, keep breathing, don’t stop moving or lose control. You don’t have to be alive, but you need to survive. At least until you’ve played your part, you need to keep going.

And that’s the fourth rule. Whatever it takes. You’ll never be alive again, so you need to do whatever it takes. You’ll be whatever you need to be, and Homelander will die. Homelander has to fucking die, and then you can go back to wasting away in the lonely, hollow cold.

But for now, whatever it fucking takes.

End Note: Very silly of me to publish the prologue over halfway through the series.

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[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐃

madeleine chase x will smith

will goes on a podcast and reveals to the world his gushing crush on pop star, madeleine chase (wc; 1.11k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ this is lowkey inspired by how tate mcrae and cole sillinger first got together + what will said in a podcast about tate mcrae (literally every man is obsessed with her and so am i)

au masterlist

It had been about a week since Will had moved to San Jose and he was… settling. California was very different from Massachusetts and everything was new. From the weather to the people, everything was unfamiliar to Will. His teammates — another new thing Will was getting used to — had been nothing but welcoming. They had been showing him around the area and making sure he was settling in well—especially the Marleau family who were taking him in for his first year in San Jose.

He appreciated their efforts, even though the move was still overwhelming at times. The sunny, warm weather of California was a stark contrast to the often chilly and unpredictable climate of Massachusetts, and it was both a blessing and a challenge to adapt to. The culture here was more laid-back, and people seemed to carry an air of casualness that Will wasn’t entirely accustomed to.

In the midst of all these changes, he was dealing with the start of the hockey season, which brought on a lot of commitments. Despite today being a rest day from all of the beginning of the season media, Will was sitting in the Empty Netters podcast studio. Will had met Dan and Chris, the two hosts, a while back, promising them he’d come on when he got signed by the Sharks. Months later, Will was fulfilling his promise.

“Alright, Will, welcome to the Empty Netters pod! Glad to have you here,” said Chris.

“Thank you for having me,” Will said, smiling politely.

“So, you've been in San Jose for what—about two weeks? How’s the transition going? It’s gotta be a change from Massachusetts." Dan asked.

Will nodded, leaning into the mic a bit. “Yeah, about that but it feels like longer with everything going on. It’s been go, go, go since I got here but California’s great. And everyone’s been super welcoming, especially the Marleau family. They’ve really helped me get settled.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, you got blessed with your living situation for your first year. I mean Patrick Marleau is a legend.”

“Not bad at all,” Will chuckled, relaxing a little. “They’ve been great. Showing me around, and introducing me to some good spots to eat. I’m trying to figure out the whole California lifestyle.”

The conversation flowed easily as they touched on his early career, what he was looking forward to with the Sharks and a few lighter topics.

“Okay, Will, to end this interview we just want to do some rapid-fire questions, alright? So these are just random.” Chris asked.

“Yeah, ok, sounds good,” Will replied.

“Great, first question,” Chris said, glancing at his notes. “What's your favorite movie?”

Will thought for a moment, debating between the movies he loved. “I'd have to say 'Good Will Hunting'. It's a classic and, well, it's set in Boston. Reminds me of home.”

Both Dan and Chris nodded appreciatively. “Nice choice,” Dan answered. “Alright, next up: what's your go-to comfort food?”

“Probably a good lobster roll,” Will replied instantly. “It's practically a staple back home.”

“A lobster roll from Cape Cod sounds fucking delicious.” Chris agreed.

“Alright, final question,” Dan says. “Who is your celebrity crush?”

“Madeleine Chase,” Will says without hesitation.

Both Dan and Chris burst into laughter at Will’s quick answer, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he realizes his eagerness. “Damn, you were ready for that question,” Chris says through laughter. “Can you expand on why she is your celebrity crush?”

Will chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I mean, first of all, she’s gorgeous. I keep seeing photos of her performing for Taylor Swift in Europe and… whew.” Will answers, getting another chorus of laughter from the podcast hosts. “But also there’s something about her vibe. She seems really down-to-earth and genuine. I’ve seen her in interviews and she’s got a great sense of humor.”

Dan grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” Will admitted, laughing. “But, you know, it’s hard not to admire someone like that. She’s got the whole package.”

“Quick, favorite song of hers?” Chris asked.

Will didn’t have to think much before answering. “Close To You. It’s just such a fun song to listen to.”

“If you have a message for Madeleine that we might be able to get to her at some point, what would it be?” Dan asked.

Will chuckled, questioning if he really wanted to it all out bare on this podcast. “Answer my DM,” he said, confidence lacing his tone.

“No way you’ve DM’ed her.” Chris laughed.

Will simply shrugged, laughing along with the two brothers. Dan leaned in with mock seriousness. "Alright, Sharks fans, you heard it here first—Will Smith’s got game both on and off the ice."

As the podcast wrapped up, Will thanked Chris and Dan, and they walked him out. His agent was waiting, jumping straight into talking about his schedule, but Will wasn't really listening. He was still stuck replaying the last part of the interview in his head.

Did I really just say that? His mind replayed the last part of the interview—talking about Madeleine Chase with no filter, like some lovestruck kid. He cringed inwardly, imagining how it must have sounded to anyone listening. He could already hear the ribbing from his teammates once this went live, and he cringed. His agent's voice was just white noise now as Will’s thoughts spiraled, imagining the potential fallout.

Answer my DM. The words bounced around his head like an unwelcome reminder of how he’d opened himself up for a joke. What if she actually did hear it? He wasn’t sure what compelled him to be so bold, especially considering they didn’t know each other. Will had always been reserved, especially in public settings, and now he felt like he'd let his guard down too much.

“Will? You listening?” his agent said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Will replied quickly, though he wasn’t. He pulled out his phone, hovering over the podcast's social media page. Maybe I can ask them to cut that part out… no, that’s ridiculous. It’s too late. He forced himself to put his phone away, trying to focus on anything else but the possibility of his comment blowing up online.

Will sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to shake off the doubt. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They laughed, so it couldn’t have been too cringey… right?

Still, the uncertainty weighed on him. California was supposed to be a fresh start, but at that moment, Will couldn’t help but feel like he’d already stumbled out of the gate.

[penkura]

PENKURAAAAA

I love your writing, especially for Law and Zoro. I'm also a sucker for the parent fics you do. What if reader and Law/Zoris kids were to surprise reader on their birthday? What would they do? How would they do it? Maybe reader thinks everyone forgot their birthday but the crew is actually just in on the surprise? Thanks for reading friend, I would love to see what you think ^^♡

HIII THANK YOUUUU I'm so glad you like the parent fics, they're some of favorite to write. 😊

I didn't think I'd finish this in time to post on my birthday but I did!! I wasn't sure where to go at first so I just started typing and this is what I've got!! I'm pretty happy with it myself, so I hope you like it too!! 😄

Law

Law has never forgotten a birthday or anniversary ever since you first got together. His ability to remember every date leaves you impresses every time, especially after your son and daughter were born, he kept every important date in the front of his mind so her never forgot. He intended to celebrate every important, special day so you and your kids knew how much he loved you. You make sure to do the same for Law, even if he’d rather you not celebrate his birthday, the grins he gets from your children every year make it worth remembering the day.

That’s why it’s very strange to wake up on your birthday without Law in your bed with you, or even your son Rosinante yelling ‘happy birthday’ to wake you. Your daughter Cora is still learning to talk, but even she would already be in your bed and giggling to help get you up for the day. It’s odd, you’re not sure what to think as you start getting ready for the day, still no sign of your family or the other Heart Pirates around. Once you leave your room, it’s oddly quiet but you pass by a few of your crewmates on your way to Law’s office, expecting him to be there at least. None of them say anything about your birthday, Bepo and Ikkaku seem a little antsy when you greet them, though you don’t think anything of it, even when they try to guide you to the kitchen instead.

You don’t go with them, saying you’d like to see your family first, opening the door to Law’s office and being surprised at what you see. Law at his desk is normal, even with your daughter sitting in his lap, but what’s different is the amount of streamers across the walls and floor, wrapping paper pieces mixed in, your children busy scribbling away on paper likely making cards for you.

It's so early you can’t believe the two are awake, especially seeing how Law appears to he asleep, his hat over this face and leaning back in his chair, but still holding little Cora so she can sit up and continue coloring.

Of course he wouldn’t forget, he was probably trying to surprise you, keeping things a secret and bringing your children to his office so you could sleep in while he got things together. That would also explain why most of your crewmates seemed anxious around you, they didn’t want you to figure it out too soon.

“Mama!”

When Rosi sees you, he’s torn between excited and upset, you weren’t supposed to see anything yet and the five-year-old was doing his best to keep everything secret after Law brought up your birthday and making cards for you. He pouts a little, but still jumps up to hug you, which you return.

“You weren’t s’pposed to see yet…”

Quietly laughing, to not wake Law even though Cora is starting to whine when she sees you, you hug Rosi a bit tighter before kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so sweet! I’m sorry I saw everything, sweetie!”

Rosi whines this time, telling you that you’re hugging him too tight, before you let him go and move to pick up Cora, who squeals when you do so and kiss her cheeks. Law doesn’t even wake at that, you wonder if he actually slept last night or not.

“You’re all so wonderful, I’m so blessed to have you guys.”

Rosi makes you promise not to tell anyone that you know, and you’re still surprised later that day at how big the party is. Law tells you later that your son thought it up, he just helped put it all together with the rest of your crew. No one finds out that you knew, Rosi keeps it a secret too and even when your daughter nearly drops her piece of cake on your shirt, it’s still the best birthday you’ve had in a while.

Zoro

While Zoro isn’t the best at remembering dates, your birthday is one he never forgets, no matter how long you’ve been together or how many other important days come and go. You know your captain and crew well enough that anything worth celebrating gets a huge party, birthdays are no exception, especially so after your daughter’s birth a few years ago. Every first for little Kuina was celebrated as only the Straw Hats could, food and drinks galore, even though she’d be confused by what was happening.

When she’s four-years-old and your birthday comes around again, Kuina is adamant on you having a big surprise party, even when Zoro tells her you aren’t the biggest fan of surprises (your unexpected pregnancy with her being an exception). She’ll pout and fuss until Zoro finally agrees, enlisting Nami and Sanji to get everything planned but not tell him the details. He trusts them to get everything planned, Kuina being their biggest help, but Zoro doesn’t want to know anything, so he doesn’t potentially spoil you on the surprise.

Kuina is better at keeping the secret than anyone else. If you ask her what she’s doing, when she grabs all her paper and coloring supplies, she just tell you she’s going to make a map with aunt Nami. That’s not unusual so you don’t question it, she does bring you her own map later that day anyway.

When your birthday finally comes around, neither Zoro nor Kuina says anything, they aren’t even around when you wake up that morning. Not uncommon though, everyone normally lets you sleep in on your birthday, but usually Zoro is there and Kuina comes running in after a few minutes to wake you both.

Once you’ve dressed and gotten ready for the day, you head for the kitchen, but you’re confused when no one you pass says anything to you apart from a good morning. Usopp just grins and says it, Franky does the same. Luffy is barely audible as he runs off to wherever, dragging Jinbei along with him. It really makes you wonder if they’ve all forgotten what today is. You don’t see anyone else until you get to the kitchen, only to have streamers from party poppers hit you in the face, hearing Kuina say ‘oops’.

“You weren’t supposed to do it in her face, Kuina!”

“Sorry, daddy!” Kuina gives you an apologetic look before she smiles, “Sorry, mommy! Happy birthday!!”

Once you’re able to see the kitchen better, there’s streamers and balloons round the room, your favorite breakfast all made and ready, a cake in the middle of the table, and every member of your crew there, you figure Luffy and Jinbei had slipped in behind you. They all give you their birthday wishes, and it nearly makes you cry which makes Zoro smirk at you.

“Now don’t cry about it. It was all your daughter’s idea.”

“Shut up, Zoro.” You may be near tears but the smile you have tells everyone you’re happy, as Kuina comes out and hugs you with a pout.

“Mommy, don’t cry! I made you a picture!!”

It’s childish work of course, she’s only four, but it’s still an adorable picture she’s drawn of the two of you, making you hug her back and lift her off the ground.

“Thank you so much, Kuina. I love it!”

You never question if any of them have forgotten your birthday again, expecting it to be due to Kuina having her own little plans for your special day. You’ll have to do the same for her next year now.