#I do love a good sun burst design
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pucksandpower · 9 months ago
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So Good to Me
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you 
 getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further
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The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.
You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-
“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.
A TikToker.
You sigh internally but force a polite smile.
“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.
“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.
“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.
The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”
You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.
His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”
You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.
“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”
You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.
“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.
“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.
After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allî mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”
“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”
Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, ïżœïżœïżœ900?” He teases.
You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”
“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chĂ©rie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”
“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”
“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cƓur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”
You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”
“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientît!”
You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.
“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.
The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.
“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”
The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”
You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.
“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”
An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”
You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.
Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all 
 and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.
Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.
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sillyhanako · 1 month ago
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╭╯ïč’pipo pipo electric sound ïč•
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🍼ïč’âȘ©âȘš ïč•dates scenarios with the bluck lock boys!
🍼ïč’âȘ©âȘš ïč•STARRING : yukimiya kenyu, bachira meguru and alexis ness ♡ fluff!
đŸźê’±ïč’a/nïč’one of my best works! Im really proud of this one. Lmk if you want a second part >< contains smau in kenyu and bachira parts and contains soft launches in them all
ăƒŒïč•m.listïč
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à­šà­§ ㆍ  yukimiya kenyu
Today was one of Yukimiya's rare days off. He had just finished modeling for a big hit magazine, and his manager insisted that he take a day off to reward his hard work.
and how would he spend it? With his lover, of course! Lately, you both have been struggling to make time for each other, each busy with work or school. But today was conveniently a beautiful sunny day where everything just felt right—the breeze was gentle and the air fragrant with spring flowers. Yukimiya decided that this was the perfect moment for a sweet date.
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At three thirty he knocked on your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. You were surprised, and Yukimiya could barely see your face, not because of his blindness, but because of how big the bouquet was.
"You didn't have to..! ," you said with joy, unable to contain your excitement and gratitude. "I missed you," he replied softly, placing his gifts on the table and embracing you tightly, as if trying to merge your bodies.
You helped him take off his jacket and handed him a cup of water, engaging in casual conversation to relax after the ride.
"speaking of TikTok, I saw this cute little trend. Look!" You exclaimed, showing him a video of two couples painting each other's t-shirts and a blank dinosaur clay figure.
"I think we should definitely do that. I have spare t-shirts, and instead of clay figures, we can order tote bags. Are you in?" You looked at him with anticipation.
"Yeah sure why not? Should we make matching ones?" "Oh good idea! Ill get the fabric paint hold on-"
after digging for a good 30 minutes in house you finally got what you needed on your living room's table. You laid out your plain canvas bags and soft, white t-shirts like a blank canvas ready to receive your wildest ideas. As you started painting, yukimiya leaned over, his shoulder brushing against yours. “What do you think we should make first?” he asked, his voice playful, and your heart did that little flip it always did around him. You suggested matching sanrio designs— you chose Kiki and LaLa . “Perfect-!” he replied, already splattering some paint onto his shirt in excitement, totally unbothered by the mess you were about to create. You recommended using a starting sketch, so you pulled out your phones getting a clear picture of your character.
Time flew by as you discussed everything varrying from your favorite sanrio products to your dream travel destinations, each topic punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful shoving and thus losing sense of time and making way too many 'masterpieces' . You both decided that every little imperfection you painted was just part of the charm.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and orange, you stepped back to admire your creations. They weren’t just tote bags and t-shirts; they were memories smeared with laughter and love. You felt so grateful to have Yuki by your side—someone to share these memories with and made everyone one of them memorable.
“Okay, you know what we should do next? we should to model them!” you declared, striking a silly pose, and it was impossible not to giggle at how silly you looked. You put your new creations on, proudly showcasing your masterpieces, and snapped a few selfies, capturing the essence of the day.
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kenyuki our beautiful mess <3 @.ynthediva
bachicha BRO ACTUALLY PULLS?????➜kenyuki Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full nlown monochrome student loan indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and y hormone friend zoned sylvester stallone fsierra leone autozone professionally seen silver patrone headass tf up ➜ynthediva CLOCKED. ➜ryu__shid GAGGED.
slursagi yall look lowk cute 😕 ➜ynthediva thanks 😙 ➜ynthediva WHAT IS THAT USERNAME ➜slursagi STOP IT WAS A DARE ➜ynthediva by who 😭 ➜slursagi that bitchless kurona.
karasuhq one slip up is all i need.. ➜kenyuki blocked. ➜hiyo_yo bro is like a dragon guarding his treasure 😭 pipe down ➜ninin._ninja talking like you pull any 💀😰 ➜hiyo_yo you failed 5th grade. ➜ninin._ninja im sorry sir
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à­šà­§ ㆍ  bachira meguru
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The sun was just beginning to dip behind the buildings as you stood outside the cinema, glancing at your watch, waiting for someone to show up. The flickering neon lights of the theater were a perfect backdrop for one of your favorite dates with your boyfriend bachira. Your heart raced with excitement as you wished for him to speed up just a little bit.
Just as you were about to check your phone, you heard his signature laugh—bright and infectious. Turning around, there he was, a ball of energy with his messy bee coloured hair and those big brown eyes that youve grown to love.
He zoomed toward you like he’d just spotted a prize in a carnival game, and before you knew it, he had looped an arm around your shoulders squeezing you in a hug.
“Hey! Ready for the movie?” he beamed, his enthusiasm almost tangible.
“Absolutely!” you replied, bouncing slightly on your toes trying to match his seemingly endless energy, seriously where does he get it from?
You approached the entrance, the lively crowd enhancing the thrill of the moment. Chatter filled the waiting room and after grabbing your tickets—he insisted on paying because the date was his idea—you headed to the concession stand.
“Okay, we need the largest popcorn they have. And candy! Which one should we get?” he declared as you stood before the colorful assortment of sweets.
“Hmm, gummy bears?” you suggested, but he shot you a look like you'd just suggested swimming in jelly.
“No way, we need chocolate! It’s a movie must-have!” He patted his chest as if making a proclamation.
You chuckled, and after a quick playful banter about whos the better movie must-have you settled on a massive bucket of honey popcorn and a couple of chocolate bars, and he practically wore a victorious grin as you made your way into the screening room.
Once inside, you found your seats—perfectly positioned in the middle of the theater. The dim lights illuminated the previews casting shadows across the room. Bachira flopped down beside you, as you couldn’t help but snicker watching his exaggerated excitement for the snacks, He lunged for the popcorn, shoving a handful into his mouth, claiming he couldnt wait to devour them, and thats probably going to make the both of you watch the rest of the movie without snacks. Fun.
“mhmff! 'his ish tha befsh parsh of tha 'ovie!"  he laughed with his mouth full and a buttery grin "wanth sum?" He offered you a handful of perfectly honeyed popcorn and you could resist the urge to say yes.
You settled in as the previews began to roll, the buzz of the theater fading into the background. He leaned close, whispering comments about the upcoming films, and you found yourself leaning into him, soaking up every moment of this somewhat messy date.
As the lights dimmed fully and the film began, you felt utterly content and couldnt ask for more. I mean your silly boyfriend AND a movie date?, surely you have the capability to muffle some giggles throughout the movie, right?
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bachichan me and my skibidi rizzler yall vould NEVER đŸ€‘đŸ€‘
leo._.reo how did bachira pull before me 😭 unbelievable ➜kingbarou the real question is how did he find someone that matched his freak bachichan yall just jealous đŸ€‘đŸ€‘
➜redprincessa @ynthediva please reconsider and thank you 😊 ➜bachichan solve whatever shit you have between you and that ichigo wannabe đŸ€‘đŸ€‘ ➜ku_.niga_.mi im gonna gorge your eyes out. ➜bachichan @redprincessa come get yo dog bih 😭😭
ynthediva the date was so fun 😊 exited for more! ➜bachichan glad to heart dat :DD hihuihihh ➜slurisagi why r u down bad bro ➜redprincessa that brotha gooone
➜aikou20 yoo my number xxx-xxx-xxx if u ever get tired from that schizo <33 ➜ynthediva arent you like 30 ➜aikou20 WHAT. ➜bachichan CLOCKEDDDD
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à­šà­§ ㆍ  alexis ness
The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting playful shadows across the flour-dusted countertop. You stood there, and besides you ness, apron tied snugly around your waists.
He carefully put the ingredients needed on the countertop and fetched the necessary kitchen tools . "Alright, we have everything ready, we can start now sweetheart ♡” Ness’s sweet voice and dimpled smile broke through the quiet atmosphere.
at ness's announcement you pressed the play button on your phone that started a relaxing melody. You rolled up your sleeves, and together you began measuring ingredients, flour flying, and playful banters. As you poured and stirred, he leaned in closer than necessary, your shoulders brushing.
"It hasnt even been long and i already made a mess.." you said defeatedly, apron full of flour and chocolate stains.
“but youre my mess.” he replied, his gaze softening as he caught your eye. You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you just shrugged it off with a smile. "I swear youre such a tease."
Before long, the oven was preheating and the dough was chilling. “Okay, next step — the bake,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron, feeling quite smug.
He looked at you with a sad puppy-dog expression. “i hope i wont be the cause that messed up the cookies... like the last time.. "
You couldn’t help but feel pity for him, remembering the charred remnants of what was supposed to be a masterful treat. “Hey, that just shows how dedicated you are to your art,” you teased, nudging him playfully. "And i still ate them, didnt i?"
As the sweet aroma began to fill the kitchen, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the oven. It was the way he wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you, the way he didnt want to dissapoint you again. it was honestly admirable.
“Just wait until they come out of the oven. They’re going to be amazing just wait till you see!” you said, stealing a quick glance at him, trying to hype him up from his wet-cat mood.
“Not as amazing as you.."  he muttered quietly, but you fortunately catched it and you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned, finally pulling the oven tray that contains now fresh and delicious looking cookies. you didnt miss the chance to shove a hot one to him.
"See? They look appetizing. And i bet theyre tasty too —" You tried one, forgeting it hasnt been even 5 minutes theyre out from the oven. yeah you got burned and got a panicked ness worrying.
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alexisn3ss memories with my favourite person 😊💗
anriiiii looks delicious 😼 mind if i get a taste? 🎀 ➜ynthediva yess!! Of course!!! ➜alexisn3ss no go make your own 😊
charliesthebaddie NOOOO who wants to make heart shaped cookies w me 😔😔😔 ➜shidoxox dw i gotchu bro ➜charliesthebaddie bro... 😱
redprincessa i smell wife material 👃 ➜slurisagi from who tho ➜redprincessa alex ➜alexisn3ss call me that again and your acls r gone ➜redprincessa YOU DID NTO ➜ynthediva what do i even say to this 😭 ate or be nice 💔 ➜redprincessa so now ur doubting wether to back me up or not 😒 i thought we had sum smh ➜ynthediva NO PLS I STILL NEED TO KNOW YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE
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© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!
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motherismotheringggg · 2 months ago
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Hi, I really do love your stories and all that you give, I hope you have a fabulous day or evening. But I did have a request where you had Nicholas and maybe Cooper(or the readers' friend male or female) trying to fight for your love idk or something, and it turns into this mess where you all end having a three-way with each other and the reader can't up their mind and just wants both of them. Also, it would be cool if the setting was a 90s luxury vibe. But again, do have a good day, evening or night.✚
crystal decadence 💎
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summary: this lovely anon request; reader is the daughter of a wealthy family in beverly hills and her family is throwing a dinner party. when her mom invites the two guys she’s been seeing to the party, it open the reader’s mind to a world where she can have it all
type: post grad rich female reader x post grad rich nicholas x post grad rich cooper; set in the 90s in beverly hills
warnings/tags: masturbation (f!), face sitting (f! on m!), there’s more world building than anything
author’s note: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO THIS 😭 little fact about me, i love a period piece!! anything from the 60s - 90s i just ADORE so this was so much fun to write. admittedly there’s more world building than smut but I'll probably do a part 2 and 3 to have individual smuts with both of them - anywho, hope you enjoy!!
word count: ~9783
taglist: @blackynsupremacy ,@emluvsuxo , @hoffmansgirl , @godzillawillsaveus , @purple-1995 , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaslut
💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎
The Beverly Hills sun poured in through the boutique’s tall windows, hitting the glossy tile floors with a golden glow that felt almost tangible. The air smelled of fresh leather, high-end perfume, and a faint hint of gardenia from the floral arrangements that flanked the entrance. Rows of designer dresses shimmered like liquid gems, the silk, satin, and sequins catching the light with every slight sway. Each display felt more like a gallery exhibit than a store, each piece deserving of admiration and awe.
You sat in the swivel barrel chair behind your best friend, Dionne, as she twirled in front of an oversized gilded mirror, her chocolate brown curls bouncing in sync with her movements. The mirror’s ornate frame, covered in gold leaf, practically glowed under the natural light. Dionne’s face was scrunched in disapproval as she examined herself from every angle.
“I like this one, but it does nothing for my figure,” she pouted, tilting her head. Her delicate fingers brushed over the fabric of a soft blush-colored wrap dress that, while gorgeous, wasn’t quite up to her standards.
She turned to you for commentary, something that either agreed with her sentiments or changed her mind, but her face was more pouty than hopeful, there was no changing her mind.
“I think you’ll look great no matter what but we can always go see what they have at Guess,” you suggested, giving her a hopeful look with a reassuring smile.
“They just got a new shipment, and you’d look good in literally everything they make.”
Minutes later, the two of you strolled down the sunlit promenade, every step a subtle strut. The sidewalk’s terrazzo design gleamed under your designer heels, and the rhythmic clack of Dionne’s shiny loafers echoed like a soundtrack to your own personal runway show. The air buzzed with the soft hum of luxury cars idling at the curb, their drivers patiently waiting for their impeccably dressed clients to emerge with shopping bags in hand.
The Guess storefront came into view, its iconic black-and-white logo framed by lush green hedges. The moment you stepped inside, the air conditioning hit you with a refreshing burst, carrying the scent of new denim and crisp linen. A sales associate—all sharp cheekbones and impeccable tailoring—approached with a silver tray of champagne flutes.
“Welcome in, ladies,” he said, his smile as polished as his cufflinks. “Champagne?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Dionne grinned, plucking a glass from the tray with a practiced elegance that could’ve put an heiress to shame. You followed suit, taking a delicate sip. The bubbles fizzed on your tongue, cool and crisp, just indulgent enough to remind you that you were exactly where you belonged.
Dionne darted off toward the dresses, her eyes sharp and focused like a predator stalking prey. You’d seen her shop a million times before, but every outing was its own spectacle—the slow, intentional grazing of fingertips across fabrics, the sharp “no” she’d mutter to anything less than perfect. You were mid-sip when your phone buzzed in your Fendi baguette bag. With a sigh, you fished it out, glancing at the screen.
Mom flashed across the display.
“Hey, Mom,” you said, balancing the champagne flute in one hand while holding the phone to your ear.
“Hi, sweetheart,” her voice was honey-smooth but edged with the brisk efficiency of a woman accustomed to getting things done. “Are you still out shopping?”
“Yes ma’am, I’m at Guess with Dionne. What’s up?”
“Perfect,” she said, her tone lifting like she’d just solved a puzzle. “I need you to pick up a few things for the party tonight. Just some last-minute items. You know how your father gets about everything being 'just right.'”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Sure, I’ll grab them.”
“Also,” her voice grew lighter, playful even, “I know you always get bored at these dinner parties so I made sure to invite more people your age tonight. I thought you’d like that.”
“Uh-huh,” you hummed, eyes wandering to where Dionne was now holding up a silky champagne-colored slip dress. She held it against herself, giving you an expectant look.
“You know, Michelle’s son Ethan will be there. And Janine’s daughter, Ashley, you two did cotillian classes together in middle school. Oh! And two of those handsome boys you’ve been seeing lately
”
Your attention snapped back to the call. “Who?”
“Cooper and
 Nicholas,” she said matter of factly. “I’ve seen them around you a few times and I know their families so I figured you’d appreciate them being here too.”
Your heart did a double beat almost falling out of your chest. Cooper and Nicholas. Cooper AND Nicholas. The two names bounced in your mind like a neon marquee.
“Are you still there, darling?” your mom’s voice pulled you back to reality.
“Yeah..yeah. I’m here,” you said, fighting to sound nonchalant. You glanced at Dionne, who’d lowered the slip dress and was watching you now with raised brows, her curiosity clearly piqued. “I’ll get everything on your list. I gotta go.”
You ended the call and slipped the phone back into your bag with hands that felt just a little too warm. Dionne’s eyes hadn’t left you.
“What was that about?” she asked, suspicion and delight mixing in her tone.
“Cooper and Nicholas are coming to the party tonight,” you muttered, finishing the rest of your champagne in one long, unbothered sip.
Dionne’s eyes went wide, then her grin stretched slow and wicked. “Both of them?”
“Yes.” You placed your empty glass on a nearby counter, grabbing another from the silver tray like it owed you money.
Her face lit up like she’d just been gifted a Birkin bag. “Oh, girl, you’re in trouble.”
She wasn’t wrong. You’d been seeing both of them—flirtations, lingering touches, stolen kisses, heavy petting in the back seat of their respective BMWs fresh off the lot —but nothing official. And now they’d both be at the same party, breathing the same air, under the same glittering chandeliers.
“You know what?” Dionne’s tone had the same decisive finality as a stylist’s finishing touch. “We’re gonna make sure you’re the most stunning thing at that party tonight. If Cooper and Nicholas want to compete, they’re gonna have to fight over a goddess.”
She yanked a sleek black mini-dress off the rack and held it up to you like she’d just discovered a gold mine. The silk fabric draped like molten lava, daring yet elegant.
“This. This is the one,” she said, eyes practically glittering.
You glanced at yourself in the mirror. The dress’s sharp lines and bold color did something to you, something powerful. Your reflection wasn’t just you. It was her. It was the girl who walked into a party and owned it.
————
The driveway to your home was already lined with sleek black sedans and luxury SUVs, a telltale sign that the party prep was well underway. As you stepped inside, the familiar symphony of controlled chaos greeted you. Maids buzzed about, fluffing cushions, arranging floral centerpieces, and wiping already spotless surfaces. The chefs moved with precision in the kitchen, their crisp white uniforms stark against the warmth of the marble countertops as the aroma of hors d’oeuvres drifted through the air.
When you reached the kitchen, you found your parents deep in conversation. The room was immaculate, bathed in the golden glow of a chandelier overhead that refracted light across the glossy marble countertops. The air carried a faint mix of roasted rosemary and aged wine, a scent that instantly evoked a sense of affluence and occasion.
Your father’s voice carried with its usual self-assured timbre, smooth as the leather of his oxblood loafers, a tone he reserved for strategizing. He stood by the kitchen island, one hand loosely gripping a crystal tumbler of scotch.
“This party will show him everything he needs to see,” he declared to your mother, his other hand gesturing with purpose. The sharp lines of his tailored pinstripe suit caught the light as he moved. “Once he sees my connections, he’ll have no choice but to promote me.”
Your mother stood nearby, her posture perfect, the pearls around her neck gleaming like tiny orbs of moonlight. Her nails—painted a classic red—tapped rhythmically against the stem of her wine glass. She listened intently, her expression serene but her eyes sharp, showing just how much this evening meant to her too.
It was your father who noticed you first, his face breaking into a grin that softened the otherwise calculated air about him. “And if all else fails,” he began, a touch of warmth entering his voice, “the fact that my daughter has joined my boss among the ranks of Stanford grads will seal the deal.” He opened his arms wide in invitation.
You stepped forward, letting yourself be enveloped in his cologne—a heady mix of cedarwood and power—before moving to embrace your mother. “You know I’m not a fan of using my education as a bargaining chip,” you teased, your lips curving into a small smile as you pulled back.
Your mother placed a manicured hand on your shoulder, her touch both tender and commanding. “It wouldn’t hurt,” she replied with an indulgent smile, her tone as polished as the sterling silver trays being carried past by staff. Then, her demeanor shifted, her voice taking on that quiet authority you’d grown up respecting. “Now, I need you to look over the seating arrangements before the guests arrive. There’s assigned seating for dinner, and I’d like your eyes on it to make sure it’s perfect.”
“Got it,” you replied, already glancing toward the dining room. From where you stood, you could see the flicker of candlelight bouncing off the long, polished mahogany table.
The place settings were immaculate: fine bone china with intricate gold detailing, crystal water goblets arranged like jewels, and name cards written in calligraphy so precise it could only have been commissioned. The centerpiece—a sprawling arrangement of deep red roses and soft white lilies—sat elegantly beneath another grand chandelier, a testament to your mother’s exacting standards.
“Don’t forget,” your mother added as she lifted her glass to her lips, “your uncle will be sitting next to Mr. Whitmore. Keep their egos balanced, darling.”
With a soft laugh, you nodded, stepping toward the dining room to inspect the scene. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoed faintly as you moved, the weight of the evening settling on your shoulders.
The dining room greeted you with the soft glow of candlelight, casting a golden hue over the sprawling mahogany table. The pristine white tablecloth looked almost too perfect to touch, and every detail, from the gold-embossed place settings to the hand-folded linen napkins, screamed elegance. The centerpiece—a lush arrangement of red roses and white lilies—stretched nearly the length of the table, its fragrance subtle but ever-present.
You ran your fingers lightly over the place cards, each bearing names written in delicate calligraphy. You knew your mother well enough to expect near-perfection, but there was always room for a few tweaks, and this was your chance to ensure things aligned with your vision. As your eyes scanned the arrangement, you found your name near the middle of the table, right next to Jason Mitchell, one of your mom’s friend’s sons. An Ivy League basketball player, Jason was pleasant enough, but you couldn’t imagine a night of forced small talk with him.
Just across the table, you spotted Dionne’s name. A smile tugged at your lips—at least your mother had the sense to seat her close. But across the table wasn’t close enough. You quickly slipped Jason’s card out of its holder and replaced it with your own, moving him to the other side. That was better. You and Dionne would have the whole evening to share knowing looks, inside jokes, and quiet commentary about the spectacle unfolding around you.
Satisfied, you continued down the table. Your mother’s place was naturally toward the head, right next to Nicholas Whitmore, a family acquaintance who always managed to dominate the conversation. A few seats down from them, you spotted another familiar name: Cooper. You paused, fingers hovering over his card. Something about seeing his name there sent a jolt of nervous energy through you.
For a moment, you hesitated, chewing lightly on your lip. Cooper was already close enough, but a small part of you—the part that couldn’t resist the chance to tilt the night in your favor—wanted to shake things up. You plucked Cooper’s card from its spot and swapped it with the one next to Dionne, biting back a grin as you imagined her teasing you later. And then, almost without thinking, you reached for Nicholas’s card.
Sliding it into place beside yours, you felt a rush of something you couldn’t quite name—excitement, nerves, or maybe a bit of both. You stared at the new arrangement for a moment, the butterflies in your stomach stirring. Should you change it back? This has the potential to blow up in your face.
Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned on your heel, grabbing a small bowl of fruit from the sideboard on your way out. The quiet clink of your heels against the marble was drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat as you hurried upstairs.
Your bedroom awaited, a sanctuary fit for a young socialite. The space was expansive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a stunning view of the city skyline. Plush cream carpets covered the floor, so soft you’d forgone wearing slippers long ago. A canopy bed draped with sheer white fabric stood as the centerpiece, its silk bedding in soft blush and ivory tones. A vintage vanity, lined with your collection of luxury perfumes and makeup, sat to the side, while a wall of custom closets held the curated wardrobe that your stylist loved to call “your personal archive.”
But it wasn’t any of that that caught your attention this time. It was the bouquet of pink tulips on your bed. The sight of them stopped you in your tracks. They were vibrant, freshly cut, and tied with a delicate ribbon. Resting against them was a small handwritten note. You picked it up, the paper soft and expensive beneath your fingertips.
“Can’t wait to see you tonight and make you mine.”
The signature at the bottom was unmistakable: CH, followed by a small heart. Your heart fluttered in response. Cooper. Of course it was him. He always knew exactly what to do. He remembered that tulips were your favorite — a detail Nicholas never seemed to catch on to, despite how many times he’d brought you roses. Roses were lovely, but tulips? Tulips felt personal to you, especially since Cooper knew why you liked them so much.
One sunny morning, a breakfast date with Cooper led to a stroll through the park. The air was crisp, the kind that made everything feel lighter, and the vibrant bed of tulips in bloom instantly caught your eye. You paused, pulling out your sleek Contax G2 to snap a photo, then another, and another.
Cooper chuckled, hands tucked into his pockets as he watched you. “Why so many?” he asked, his tone warm and teasing.
You smiled, lowering your camera. “When I was little, my grandmother used to sit me in her garden while she planted tulips. She was this elegant, no-nonsense woman, but in the garden, she was different. Softer. Tending to her flowers was her favorite kind of hard work. It always felt like our secret world, just the two of us.”
As you spoke, your voice softened with nostalgia, and Cooper listened intently. His usual playful demeanor shifted; the teasing glint in his hazel eyes was replaced by something deeper. He wasn’t just hearing your story—he was falling for you with every word.
The way you spoke about your grandmother, the light in your eyes as you shared this piece of yourself—it was mesmerizing. Cooper’s gaze lingered on you, filled with a quiet adoration that made the moment feel suspended in time.
From that day on, he made a silent promise to himself. Every time he saw you, he’d show up with a single tulip in hand. The first time, he offered it with a shy grin. “One for now,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “and maybe a bouquet later.”
Your phone buzzed, pulling you from the memory. Fully expecting it to be Cooper calling to see if you’d gotten the flowers, you smiled as you reached for your phone. But when you glanced at the screen, your breath caught.
Nicholas.
You hesitated for half a second before answering. “Hey, Nicky.”
“Hey,” his voice was warm, that lazy, playful drawl he always had when he was in a good mood. “Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to seeing you tonight. I know you’re gonna look amazing. You always do.”
“Thanks,” you said, leaning back against your pillows. Your tone was sweet but eyes drifted to the tulips again, their petals catching the golden hour light filtering through your window.
“And listen,” Nicholas continued, his voice dipping into a conspiratorial tone, “I’ve got something planned for after the party -- If you’re up for it, of course. I’m pretty sure this will make things a little easier for you.”
You let out a breathy giggle. Nicholas knew his spontaneity and charm, aside from his good looks, could win you over. His voice blurred as your thoughts floated back to a different time, another moment when he’d swept you off your feet with his easy charisma and his knack for pulling you out of the whirlwind.
The summer after you graduated college was relentless—interviews and expectations piling on, leaving you breathless. You’d stood Nicholas up that week, overwhelmed by the chaos, but he didn’t seem to mind. He showed up at your door, calm and sure.
“You need a break,” he said, his brown eyes steady and warm. “Pack a bag. Just a change of clothes and a bathing suit.”
You didn’t argue. Moments later, you were in his car, the city fading behind he as Sinatra played softly through the speakers. The scent of saltwater greeted you long before Nicholas turned off the road onto a secluded beach.
The ocean stretched endlessly before you, sparkling under the sun. Without hesitation, you kicked off your shoes and ran toward the waves, laughing freely for the first time in weeks.
Nicholas followed at his own pace, watching you with a soft smile. “Don’t forget to breathe!” he teased, his voice light.
When you ran back, drenched and beaming, he wrapped a towel around you, pulling you close. “You’ve been carrying so much,” he said, his hand brushing your cheek. “But you don’t have to have it all figured out. Life is still beautiful, still yours to enjoy.”
Tears pricked your eyes, and you whispered, “Thank you, Nicky.”
“Always,” he murmured, his fingers lacing with yours as the waves rolled in behind you.
“Y/N
hello, are you still there?”
Nicholas’s voice pulled you back to the present. His tone was gentle but curious, a soft nudge to bring you back. “You okay? You got quiet on me for a second there.”
“Yeah,” you said quickly, blinking away the memory. “I’m here. Sorry, I was listening
 I think the red turtle neck would look nice, trust me.”
“I’d wear one of those rainbow umbrella hats if you told me to”, Nicholas replied with coyness, you could tell came with a snide smirk on the other end.
Your lips curved into a smile. “And I’m sure you’d look great regardless,” you checked the time on your side table alarm clock, “And if I don’t start getting ready now, you’ll show up looking better than me at my own party. I’ll see you tonight”
“See you tonight beautiful,” Nicholas said hanging up the phone.
Your phone slipped from your hands onto the bed, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. It wasn’t lost on you how complicated things had become. Nicholas and Cooper had despised each other long before you’d come into the picture. Their families had always been at odds, but the animosity had only grown after the tennis match.
You’d gone to support Cooper, not realizing Nicholas was his opponent. The tension in the air that day had been palpable, charged with more than just competitive energy. When the match ended and they’d both approached you simultaneously, their expressions a mix of confusion and hurt, it all unraveled.
They’d each thought you were there for them. Words were exchanged, chests puffed, and if one of their coaches hadn’t intervened, fists might have flown. It was messy, a little brutish, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t kind of hot.
The memory replayed in your mind, and your breath hitched as the details sharpened. You remembered the way Nicholas’s strong hands curled into tight fists, veins bulging along his forearms, his usually calm demeanor flickering with fiery intensity. Then there was Cooper, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle jump, his sharp blue eyes boring into Nicholas like he was daring him to make a move.
Both men had staked their claim over you in no uncertain terms. Nicholas, his deep, steady voice, a calming but commanding presence, telling Cooper to back off because you’d come to see him. Cooper, refusing to yield, had stepped forward, his broad chest rising and falling as he fired back with his own confident assertion that you’d made it clear who you were there for.
The more you remembered, the hotter you felt, a warm tingle blooming low in your belly. You couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to the way they’d looked in that moment—two powerhouses, their towering frames practically vibrating with restrained aggression, both ready to fight for you. The thought sent a spark straight through you, and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together, desperate to quell the growing ache.
But it wasn’t enough.
You pushed yourself off the bed, deciding a cold shower would help clear your head. Your bathroom was an opulent retreat, the centerpiece of your suite. Marble countertops gleamed under the soft glow of chandelier lighting, and the oversized walk-in shower, enclosed in glass, boasted multiple showerheads and a luxurious rainfall feature. You turned the water on, adjusting it to a cool but comfortable temperature, and stepped inside, the mist already softening the tension in your muscles.
Still, as the water cascaded over your skin, you couldn’t shake the thoughts from your mind. The memory of Nicholas and Cooper’s heated argument twisted into something darker, more intoxicating. You imagined them in a different setting, their rivalry spilling into the bedroom. Instead of fighting with words, they’d use their bodies to prove who could claim you more thoroughly, more passionately.
The vivid thought sent your pulse racing. You pictured Nicholas, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he whispered in your ear, his usually composed demeanor unraveling as he sought to make you lose control. Then Cooper, not to be outdone, trailing heated kisses down your neck, his cocky smirk melting into something desperate as he worked to outdo Nicholas, both of them vying for your moans, your gasps, your finish.
The ache between your legs became unbearable. Almost on autopilot, you reached for the detachable showerhead. You adjusted the settings, angling it just right as the water pressure hit your throbbing self. A gasp escaped your lips, and your knees buckled slightly, your free hand bracing against the cool marble wall.
You let your eyes flutter shut, the fantasy playing out behind your lids as the water pulsed against you. The imagined sounds of their voices—Nicholas’s deep, breathy whispers and Cooper’s rough, low groans—mingled with the steady rhythm of the shower. Your hips moved instinctively, chasing the sensation as you rode the wave of pleasure building within you.
The cool tile of the shower wall met your back as you slammed against it, your body arching with the building tension. The relentless spray of the shower head pulsed against you, sending waves of heat coursing through your body. Your hand instinctively reached up, cupping your breast as your fingers found your nipple, squeezing and pinching in rhythm with your escalating pleasure.
Breathy moans slipped from your lips, the sound mingling with the soft hiss of water against the tile. Each whimper was sharp and unrestrained, your breaths hitching as the pressure built higher and higher. Your eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the name that spilled from your mouth was entirely unexpected.
“Nicholas
” you moaned, the sound raw and unfiltered.
Your eyes snapped open, startled by how naturally it had slipped from your lips as if your subconscious had been holding onto it all along. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat spiraling through you, tightening the coil low in your belly.
Your free hand shot out to steady yourself against the opposite wall, your body trembling as the fantasy took hold. “Cooper
” you whimpered, voice laced with yearning. The thought of both men worshiping your body pushed you closer to the edge. Your lips parted, a soft cry spilling out. “That feels so good, baby
”
The vivid image filled your mind—Nicholas’s boyish grin turned wicked with desire, Cooper’s hands firm yet tender against your skin. The imagined weight of their attention, their touch, tipped you over.
Your body tensed, a shuddering gasp escaping you as the release swept through, leaving your legs weak and trembling. You clung to the wall for support, your breath stuttering in the aftermath. The tension slowly ebbed away, the pulsing water washing over you, grounding you back in reality.
A quiet laugh bubbled up as you ran a hand through your wet hair, shaking your head at yourself. “Get it together,” you muttered with a wry smile, reaching for the towel hanging nearby. Wrapping it snugly around your body, you stepped out of the shower, cheeks still flushed and thoughts lingering far longer than you intended.
----
You and Dionne lingered in the backyard’s conversation pit, the kind of luxurious setup that made you feel like you were in the pages of an interior design magazine. The space was undeniably chic—a sunken circular area surrounded by sleek stone walls, with plush cream-upholstered seating that invited you to sink in and stay a while. Overhead, string lights crisscrossed in delicate patterns, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard. The faint scent of jasmine mixed with the lingering aroma of grilled vegetables and rosemary from dinner, while the hum of crickets filled the gaps in your conversation.
You’d both done your due diligence, making just enough small talk with the party guests to keep your mom off your back. Now, the two of you finally had a moment to yourselves. Dionne, dressed impeccably in a silky lavender blouse that shimmered in the light, swirled the champagne in her glass, watching the bubbles rise before taking a sip.
“Cooper’s family came in right behind mine,” she began casually, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “And get this—he had a Van Cleef bag in his hand. When I asked him about it, he didn’t say much, but he did mention that he knew you’d love it.”
You inhaled sharply, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. “It’s probably the Alhambra butterfly necklace. I pointed it out on our last date,” you said, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “I could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes.”
Dionne laughed, her voice a warm melody against the night air. “Girl, you are so lucky. I mean, seriously. The two hottest guys from our prep school—not to mention they’ve only gotten hotter—chasing after you like this?” She gave you a playful nudge with her elbow. “I love this for you.”
You tilted your head, a wistful smile creeping across your face as you exhaled. “Yeah
 it’s a lot to think about.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly with mock seriousness. “So, what are you gonna do? You’ve got to choose one eventually.”
You chuckled softly, taking a sip of your own champagne. “I don’t know, Dee.”
With a grin, she leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I say you pick whoever’s better in bed.”
You shot her a look, one eyebrow raised, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God, wait—you didn’t!” She set her glass down on the low table in front of you, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned closer. “Spill! I thought for sure, with all those drives up to the mountains with Nicholas and Cooper, you’d—”
You cut her off, laughing as you waved a hand dismissively. “No, no! Part of the fun is keeping them waiting. You know me—I like a little suspense.”
Her jaw dropped in exaggerated shock, and she gasped. “You’re telling me
 you’ve gone all this time and haven’t
?”
You grinned slyly, lowering your voice just enough to make her lean in further. “Kissed them enough to fog up car windows? Sure. Teased them with neck kisses and
 other things during movie nights? Of course.” You paused, watching her expression as she hung on your every word. “But I’ve been keeping them on their toes. The tension? The chase? It makes everything so much hotter.”
Dionne burst into laughter, throwing her head back. “You are such a tease,” she said, still laughing. “Pure agonizing tease. But I’m here for it. Whoever you pick tonight is gonna be the luckiest man alive.”
You shrugged with a playful smirk, murmuring under your breath but loud enough for her to catch, “Maybe I’m considering both.”
Her gasp turned into a shocked laugh, loud and unabashed. “You didn’t just say that!”
Before you could reply, the patio door creaked open, and your mom’s voice rang out, cheerful but commanding. “Dinner’s ready, girls!”
The two of you exchanged a look, Dionne biting her lip to keep from giggling as you grabbed your glass. “Coming!” you called back, your voice perfectly composed.
As you stood to head inside, Dionne leaned close and whispered with a wicked grin, “I’m sure you will be.”
----
The dining room was a masterpiece of luxury, with its vaulted ceilings and gilded accents that sparkled under the glow of cascading crystal chandeliers. The table stretched nearly the entire length of the room, draped in an ivory cloth embroidered with golden threads, each place setting carefully arranged with fine china and polished silverware. The scent of freshly cut roses mingled with the faint aroma of roasted vegetables drifting in from the kitchen.
You had nearly forgot that you fixed the seating arrangement; Nicholas next to you, Dionne across from you, and Cooper next her, across from Nicholas.
You were deep in conversation with a family friend about your post-college job search, nodding thoughtfully as you explained your next steps and goals. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses from the party faded into the background, your focus entirely on the discussion. You hadn’t even noticed Nicholas and Cooper making their way toward the table.
Before you realized what was happening, Nicholas was at your side, effortlessly pulling out your chair. His hand—large and warm—found its place on your waist, guiding you gently but firmly back to your seat. The subtle pressure of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, but you maintained your composure, offering a polite smile as you wrapped up the conversation.
His gesture wasn’t just polite—it was deliberate, designed to be noticed. A murmur of approval rippled through the room, subtle but unmistakable. You caught the small smile tugging at your mother’s lips from across the table, her eyes glinting with pride at the display of gentlemanly behavior.
You murmured your thanks as you sat, letting him slide your chair in. His cologne, an enticing blend of cedar and spice, lingered faintly in the air as he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
“My pleasure,” he said, the words brushing against your ear like a secret meant only for you.
Across the table, Cooper’s reaction was immediate and impossible to miss. His jaw tightened, his hand gripping the back of his chair as he glared at Nicholas with barely concealed irritation. The muscle in his cheek twitched, and his eyes flicked back to you, darkened by an emotion you could only describe as possessive.
Despite his simmering frustration, Cooper stayed seated, refusing to make a scene. Dionne flashed you a look of saucy approval, you hid your smirk before the server came over to take your order.
As Nicholas returned to his seat, Cooper’s gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat longer, his eyes tracing your features before he finally turned his attention to the wine list in front of him.
You sat there, calm and poised on the outside, but your heart was pounding.
The servers moved seamlessly around the table, placing delicate plates of appetizers before each guest. The room was alive with the clink of silverware and soft murmurs of conversation, but your focus wavered as your father stood from his seat, raising his glass with an air of practiced authority.
“To community,” he began, his voice steady and commanding as it carried across the room. “To connections that bring us together and strengthen us—personally, professionally, and beyond.” He gestured toward his boss with a respectful nod, his smile warm but calculated.
He turned to you next, his eyes softening. “To my brilliant daughter, whose success continues to amaze us all.” His glass tilted toward your mom as his smile widened. “And to my wife, the love of my life, whose support has made all of this possible.”
The table erupted in polite applause and scattered cheers, and your mom lifted her glass with an appreciative smile. “To family,” she said, her voice bright and sincere. “And to the man who keeps ours grounded and inspired every day.”
The momentum of the toasts carried on as others chimed in. Your uncle stood to wish everyone health and wealth, and a few other family friends added their sentiments about the joys of togetherness and new opportunities. You thought the flurry of toasts had finally come to a close when a brief silence settled over the room.
But then, a low screech of wood against polished floors cut through the quiet as Cooper rose from his seat.
“And a toast,” he began, his voice clear and bold, the room instantly drawn to him. His gaze was locked on you, his hazel eyes shimmering with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “To Y/N, for her beauty and grace.”
The air seemed to still as the words left his lips, his tone brimming with sincerity. “Since the day I met her, she’s done nothing but charm me and challenge me to be a better man.”
Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as every eye turned toward you. You managed a smile—tongue-in-cheek, though your cheeks burned with heat. You could feel Dionne nearly vibrating across from you, barely able to contain her giddy excitement as she pressed her lips tightly together to suppress a grin.
Next to you, Nicholas’s expression darkened like a brewing storm. His fingers curled around the stem of his wine glass with such force you thought it might snap. His jaw clenched visibly, the muscle ticking with restrained fury as his eyes shot daggers at Cooper.
Your mom, ever the master of social nuance, caught your eye with a subtle nod and an intrigued glint in her gaze. Whatever this was, she seemed to think it was not only entertaining but possibly advantageous. Your dad, on the other hand, looked utterly bewildered, his brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Cooper.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, Dionne, raised her glass high, her voice ringing out cheerfully. “To everyone here tonight!”
The collective relief after Dionne’s toast was nearly tangible as glasses were raised, and the murmur of polite conversation began to hum around the table once more. Everyone seemed eager to let the tension dissipate—everyone except for Nicholas, who still hadn’t lifted his glass.
His knuckles were white as they gripped the base of the wine glass, the sharp angles of his jaw working overtime as he stared daggers at Cooper. It was a standoff only the two of them seemed to be fully aware of, the air between them crackling with silent hostility.
Cooper, ever the opportunist, didn’t let the moment pass unnoticed. “Come on, Nicholas,” he said with a sly grin, his voice just loud enough to draw a few curious glances. “Don’t be a barbarian—it’s a wine glass. You just grab it and raise it when everyone else does.”
The jab was subtle but sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. Nicholas’s jaw clenched so tightly you wondered if he might crack a tooth. His eyes burned with a fury that would have sent most people scrambling, but Cooper only leaned back slightly in his chair, his confidence brimming.
Cooper cocked his shoulders with an ease that was almost infuriating, a smirk tugging at his lips as he shot Nicholas a wink. It was the kind of victorious, self-assured gesture that screamed I’ve won this round, and it left no doubt in anyone’s mind about who had taken control of the moment.
Nicholas finally, begrudgingly, raised his glass, his movements slow and deliberate as if every second of compliance was a battle. His dark eyes flicked back to you briefly, the intensity in them leaving a shiver down your spine.
Dinner had gone smoothly, though the charged undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. The low murmur of conversation, the clinking of silverware against fine china, and the occasional burst of laughter from the adults filled the air.
The dining room was grand, with soft golden light spilling from an ornate chandelier above the long table, casting a warm glow over the elegant table settings and half-empty glasses of wine. Cooper and Nicholas, seated strategically to keep you in their orbit, continued their subtle battle for your attention.
You maintained a composed and neutral demeanor, responding with polite smiles and light conversation. Internally, though, you were keenly aware of their every move. Dionne, sitting opposite you, occasionally met your eye with a knowing smirk, clearly enjoying the game unfolding before her.
She couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. Between bites of her crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e, she tossed out quips like, “Y/N needs a man who’s not intimidated by success. Nicholas, are you intimidated by women with success?” Her tone was teasing, but the twinkle in her eye left little doubt she was having fun watching them squirm.
Nicholas smirked, tapping the rim of his glass. “Oh, I’m more than capable of keeping up, Coop. It’s just a matter of knowing how to play the game.” His eyes never left you, the unspoken message clear.
Cooper leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s not about playing the game, Nick. It’s about winning it.” He raised an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air as he slid a teasing glance in your direction. "And trust me, I know how to win."
Nicholas chuckled again, the sound low and confident. “Winning isn’t always about being first. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to take your time.” His voice dropped a notch, a subtle invitation lingering in his words.
Cooper wasn’t backing down. “Taking your time? I guess we’ll see how far that gets you when the clock’s ticking.” He gave you a wink, his tone playful yet laden with challenge. “I work better under pressure, you know.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Nicholas quipped, his gaze sharp. “But we all know who’s got the stamina for the long haul.” His lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned forward, his voice a bit lower. "Some things can’t be rushed."
Cooper’s grin widened, the tension crackling in the air. “Maybe. But there’s a difference between stamina and strategy. And I’ve got both on my side.” He turned toward you with a knowing look, making sure to catch your eye before adding, “You’ll see what I mean.”
Nicholas shot him a sly glance, clearly not phased. “I think she already has, Coop.” He met your gaze, the connection undeniable, before turning back to Cooper. “But we’ll see how the game plays out.”
You and Dionne could hardly contain yourselves, struggling to stifle chuckles and your face getting hot from tension from the boys but trying to withstand the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.
-----
The party had gradually wound down, the lively buzz of conversation and laughter from earlier now replaced by a soft hum of voices in the backyard. A few remaining guests lingered with your parents, gathered in the cozy conversation pit beneath the glow of string lights. The gentle rustle of the breeze carried snippets of their relaxed chatter, the occasional clink of glasses punctuating the calm atmosphere. The backyard was a picture of tranquility, the perfect wind-down to an otherwise bustling evening.
You, with a gentle nudge from Dionne, signaling that with everyone outside it’s the perfect time for you to get away with Nicholas and Cooper to your room. You put your hand on Nicholas’ thigh at the dinner table, speaking just above a whisper for him to join you in your room. You see the excitement bubbling in him, but it quickly diminished when you invited Cooper as well.
What had started as a laid-back conversation about clothes and music had spiraled into a heated argument between the two -- it was loud and abrasive but exactly your plan.
You sat on the edge of the bed while they stood on either side of you and argued.
“God, everything about you is so trite,” Nicholas scoffed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
Cooper’s lips twitched into a sardonic smile. “Trite? Coming from you?” He gestured toward Nicholas, his voice steady but biting. “That’s rich coming from like the Ivy league frat trash."
Cooper’s gaze darkened. “Everyone knows how many times you got arrested for disorderlies, daddy came and bailed you out each and every time and now you have a cushy job at his firm because no one would hire your ass! ”
Nicholas straightened, stepping forward, his voice low and dangerous. “At least I can keep her interested. You? You’d bore her to tears with your lectures about art-house films and overpriced coffee.”
“You think she wants some overgrown frat boy? Grow up. She deserves someone who’ll treat her right, not drag her into your mess.”
“Oh, because you’re the knight in shining armor?” Nicholas sneered. “I bring something to the table you never could”
Cooper took a slow breath, his calm exterior fraying. “That explains why you showed up empty-handed tonight, huh? Not even a rose. Thoughtful as ever, I see.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek Van Cleef bag, holding it up for emphasis. “This, at least, shows I care enough to know what she likes.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes. “You think gifts are the way to her heart? Please. She can buy that for herself. I give her what she needs.”
Cooper tilted his head, his voice dropping into a low growl. “You don’t even know what she needs.”
As their words grew sharper, the room seemed to heat with tension, and you couldn’t help the twinge deep in your core. Their arguing wasn’t just about their preferences or styles; it was about you. The way they both stared at each other, the venom in their words—it all pointed back to the same thing: they were fighting for you.
“Boys, please,” you interrupted, your voice low but firm, cutting through the heated tension between them. It wasn’t a harsh tone—just commanding enough to grab their attention and stop the bickering. Their arguing immediately ceased, leaving a palpable silence in its wake.
“Claiming you both know what I want without actually asking me? That’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” you said, your teasing tone relieving some of the aggressive energy in the room. Though the animosity between Nicholas and Cooper lingered beneath the surface, their eyes were now focused entirely on you, brimming with adoration.
Cooper shifted, sitting down beside you and resting a hand gently on your thigh. “Sorry,” he said, his voice soft and apologetic, but his expression still held a hint of smugness as he flashed you his charming, dimpled smile. “He just brings out the worst in me.”
Nicholas scoffed from across the room before dropping down on your other side with a dramatic plop. “As if you don’t deserve it,” he muttered, but his eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that betrayed his annoyance.
“What can I do for you?” Cooper asked, taking your hands in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles in a gesture that felt as much a declaration of his feelings as it was a jab at Nicholas.
“Relax,” Nicholas cut in, his tone flat and stern, clearly irritated by Cooper’s display. His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer.
The exchange made you chuckle, and to diffuse the tension, you leaned toward Nicholas and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline. His eyes softened slightly, the hard edge of his frustration melting away under your touch.
You took a steadying breath, your heart thumping in your chest as both sets of eyes bore into you, waiting. “I appreciate the gifts, the dates,” you began, your tone gentle but deliberate, making sure they both felt the weight of your words. “You know I do. But I want—need—more.”
Both of them stilled, their hesitation palpable as they processed your words. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath. You met their gazes, your voice calm but dripping with intent as you added, “I want you both to show me.”
Nicholas blinked, his brown eyes wide, stunned into silence for a beat before he managed to stammer, “You mean
 both of us? Now?” His voice cracked slightly, a mix of disbelief and anticipation.
You gave him a pointed look, your eyes heavy-lidded and smoldering. Bedroom eyes, they used to call it, and now you wielded them with purpose.
“Like
 at the same time?” Cooper’s voice was shaky, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His uncertainty didn’t stop him from leaning forward slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with a mixture of awe and yearning.
Instead of answering, you rose from the bed with a fluid motion, standing in front of them. Slowly, you reached for the zipper of your dress, letting the straps slip down your shoulders with deliberate care. Every movement was intentional, slow and teasing, as you drew the fabric down over your body. Their eyes were glued to you, neither daring to speak as the tension thickened in the air, the anticipation palpable with every second.
When your dress finally pooled at your feet, you stood before them in nothing but the delicate lingerie you’d chosen earlier—an ensemble designed to accentuate every curve, every detail meant to entice. The way their jaws tightened, the way their gazes roamed your figure, drinking you in, was all the confirmation you needed.
Their eyes tracked your every movement as if they couldn’t look away, taking in the way the soft fabric slid from your body and the confident way you climbed onto the bed. Positioned at its center, you gave them both a look that was equal parts commanding and inviting. They remained frozen, caught between anticipation and hesitation, until you broke the silence with a playful challenge.
“Are you going to keep me waiting?” you teased, your tone sultry yet light.
That was all it took. In an instant, both of them sprang into action, fumbling with buttons and pulling at their clothes. Their movements were uncoordinated at first—hands catching on shirt sleeves and belts—but as their layers peeled away, the uncertainty melted into something more primal. Even as they undressed, their eyes never left you, their hunger for you evident in every glance and the way their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths.
Nicholas was the first to make his move. He crossed the mattress with a deliberate pace, crawling toward you with a confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. The way his back muscles rippled with each movement made your pulse quicken, a delicious ache building inside you as you watched him close the gap.
When he reached you, his large hands found your waist, his grip firm but reverent as he gently pulled you closer to him. His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses to your stomach, each touch sending waves of warmth and electricity through your body. The sensation of his breath on your skin, the way his fingers brushed against your sides, left you breathless.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and almost reverent. His hands slid up to cradle your torso, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against your ribs as he kissed his way upward, pausing just below your sternum.
Behind him, Cooper hesitated for a moment, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and determination. Then, as if spurred on by Nicholas’s lead, he climbed onto the bed, his movements slower and more deliberate, but no less intense.
Cooper reached out with a steady hand, his touch on your jaw both tender and possessive as he guided your face to his. His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was deep and consuming, filled with a need that made your breath hitch. His kiss wasn’t just a gesture—it was a declaration, a challenge to Nicholas as much as it was a promise to you.
As your lips moved together, you couldn’t ignore the way Nicholas’s hands continued their deliberate exploration, his mouth now dangerously close to your pantyline. His hot breath against your skin sent shivers racing up your spine, the contrast between his slow, teasing movements and Cooper’s demanding kiss leaving you feeling utterly undone.
Cooper’s grip on your waist tightened as though anchoring you to him, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a fleeting but intimate gesture. Before Nicholas could draw all your attention, Cooper broke the kiss just enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”
His words made your heart skip, but before you could respond, Cooper took your hand, guiding it deliberately to him, pressing it against the hardness straining against the fabric of his underwear. The heat of him, the way he swelled and grew under your touch, sent a flush spreading through your body.
Your lips trailed to his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and you bit down lightly at the juncture of his collarbone. Cooper’s low groan vibrated against your lips, and the way his hips involuntarily bucked against your hand made you smile against his skin.
Nicholas, clearly unwilling to be ignored, let out a soft chuckle against your stomach. “Don’t forget about me,” he teased, his voice thick with heat and a hint of frustration. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above your hip bone before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slightly.
In one smooth motion, Nicholas pulled your panties down and tossed them aside, his movements confident and deliberate. His hands immediately found your most sensitive spot, his thumbs massaging slow, tantalizing circles against your clit, sending sparks shooting through your body. A moan escaped your lips, muffled against the warmth of Cooper’s neck, but the tremble in your breath gave you away.
Nicholas smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. “You're so wet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. His words only made the fire in your belly burn hotter. “That’s my good, perfect girl.”
The praise sent a wave of heat rushing through you, and before you could catch your breath, Nicholas moved with purpose. He slid down the bed, lying flat on his back, and with a firm but gentle grip, he guided you over him. “Come here,” he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His strong hands gripped your thighs, and he used his biceps to brace you down onto him, holding you firmly in place.
As soon as his mouth met your core, a shudder of pleasure rippled through you. Nicholas’s tongue moved with expert precision, lapping at you with a hunger that left you breathless. The flat of his tongue pressed against your most sensitive spot before he shifted to flick and swirl, his lips sealing around your clit to suck gently.
You tried to keep your composure, to maintain your focus on Cooper, but it was impossible. Your lips faltered against his skin, your head falling back as a strangled moan tore from your throat. Cooper chuckled softly, his hand coming up to steady you as your body trembled.
“Losing focus already?” Cooper teased, his voice low and warm against your ear.
You tried to respond, but Nicholas’s tongue was relentless, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he worked. Your back arched involuntarily, and your hands flew out to brace yourself, one landing on Cooper’s chest while the other tangled in Nicholas’s hair.
Nicholas hummed against you, the vibrations making your thighs quiver. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue diving deeper to explore every inch of you, his pace never faltering. Your breath came in ragged gasps, and your head fell forward, resting on Cooper’s chest as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.
Nicholas’s hum of approval sent shockwaves through your body, his tongue moving with precision as if he knew exactly how to unravel you. Cooper’s lips on your neck were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your skin before he soothed the marks with his tongue. His large hands kneaded your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples, each motion sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your chest.
Your moans filled the room, their names tumbling from your lips in a desperate symphony that seemed to drive them further. Nicholas’s voice rumbled against you, low and commanding. “Good girl,” he praised, his hands tightening their grip on your thighs as he worked his tongue deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive bud in a way that made your toes curl.
Cooper’s hands slid down your sides, grounding you in his touch as his kisses became hungrier, more possessive. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your ear, his voice thick with admiration and arousal.
The idea of them putting their differences aside, silently agreeing to focus on your pleasure, sent a new wave of heat surging through you. The coordinated rhythm of their touches left you completely undone, your body trembling as they spurred you closer and closer to the edge.
Your fingers tangled in Cooper’s hair, pulling him closer as your other hand gripped the sheets beneath you. “I—I’m so close Cooper, I'm gonna cum” you gasped, your body teetering on the brink. Nicholas responded with another hum, his tongue circling your sensitive spot with precision, while Cooper pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as you finally shattered.
Your release washed over you in waves, your body arching as you cried out, their names spilling from your lips like a mantra. Nicholas slowed his pace, helping you ride out the high, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. Cooper held you steady, his kisses softening as he murmured reassurances against your lips.
When the aftershocks subsided, you slumped against Cooper’s chest, your breathing ragged, your body tingling from head to toe. Nicholas looked up at you with a satisfied smirk, his lips glistening. “Told you I’d make you feel good,” he teased, his voice thick with pride. Before sauntering off to the bathroom, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss that left you breathless. The taste of yourself lingered on his tongue, and when you bit his lip playfully, a low, guttural moan escaped him. He pulled away with a grin that promised more, leaving you flushed and wanting.
Cooper stayed close, his hands gently stroking your sides before he tilted your chin up and kissed you again. His lips were softer, slower, carrying a tenderness that made your heart flutter. As the kiss ended, he pulled back and reached for his jacket, retrieving a sleek Van Cleef bag.
“While he’s away,” Cooper said, his voice low and intimate, “I wanted to give you this.”
From the bag, he pulled out a delicate Alhambra butterfly necklace. The intricate design shimmered in the soft light, the wings adorned with mother-of-pearl framed by gleaming gold. The craftsmanship was exquisite, each detail reflecting thoughtfulness and care.
Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped closer, holding the necklace carefully. “I know this isn’t a deciding factor,” he continued, his tone earnest, “but even if you end up with him, I know how much you wanted this. You deserve it.”
Speechless, you turned your back to him, your hair falling to one side as he clasped the necklace around your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Crossing the room, you stopped in front of the vanity, your reflection glowing. The necklace sat perfectly against your collarbone, a symbol of Cooper’s thoughtfulness and affection.
You ran your fingers over the pendant, a soft smile spreading across your lips. The more you looked in the mirror, the more the reality of your situation sank in. Two incredible men, each devoted to your happiness in their own ways. Nicholas, with his passionate intensity and relentless focus on your pleasure. Cooper, with his tender gestures and unwavering desire to see you smile. How could anyone possibly ask for more?
Your fingers lingered at the base of your throat, tracing the butterfly before letting them trail lower, a coy smile tugging at your lips. “You know,” you said, glancing back at Cooper with a spark in your eye, “if you’re going to spoil me like this, I might just have to make it up to you.”
Cooper chuckled, his gaze darkening with desire as he closed the distance between you. “I think I like the sound of that,” he murmured, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
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hoe4hotchner · 4 months ago
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The Perfect Pumpkin | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader (x Jack Hotchner) CW: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff and mentions of halloween WC: 1.6k
Happy Halloween to all those who celebrate
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           The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you, Aaron, and Jack stepped out of the car, the pumpkin patch spread out before you like a scene from a cozy fall postcard from up north. Golden and red leaves crunched beneath your feet, and the scent of fresh hay hung in the breeze. Jack was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes scanning the field for the perfect pumpkin.
           Aaron reached for your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. "Ready for some pumpkin hunting?" he asked with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.
           You nodded, grinning as you watched Jack dart ahead, already inspecting the rows of bright orange pumpkins scattered across the patch. “I think Jack’s got a head start,” you teased, watching the boy crouch down to examine the first pumpkin he saw.
           Aaron chuckled, “He’s been talking about this for weeks. I think he’s more excited about this than Halloween itself.”
           You smiled, your gaze shifting to Jack, who was now holding up a pumpkin almost as big as he was. His face was lit up with joy, his enthusiasm contagious.
           "Hey! What about this one?" Jack called out, his voice full of excitement as he showed you both his find.
           You walked over with Aaron, pretending to give the pumpkin a thorough inspection. “Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, crouching down beside Jack. “It’s a pretty good one, but how about we keep looking for a bit? We want to make sure we pick the perfect ones.” Truth be told none of you were sure how you would manage to carve a pumpkin that size.
           Jack nodded, his expression serious as if this were the most important decision of the day. “Okay, but I’m gonna keep this one in mind.” You almost burst into laughter, loving how serious the boy was about his pumpkins
           Aaron stood beside you, arms crossed as he watched the two of you. He looked relaxed - at ease in this simple moment, far from the chaos of his usual work life.
           As you wandered through the patch, the three of you shared laughs and moments of quiet contentment. Jack darted between the pumpkins, inspecting each one with the utmost seriousness, while you and Aaron strolled hand in hand, occasionally exchanging glances that felt like small, unspoken secrets between the two of you.
           At one point, Jack found a particularly lopsided pumpkin and proudly showed it to Aaron, who pretended to be deeply impressed by its unique shape. "I think this one’s got some character," Aaron said with a smile, giving Jack a playful nudge.
           After a while, you finally came across a pumpkin that caught your eye. It was round, perfectly sized, and had a rich orange color. “What do you think, Jack?” you asked, holding it up for his approval.
           Jack came over, giving the pumpkin a critical look before grinning. “That one’s awesome!”
           Aaron leaned in, his voice soft as he whispered in your ear, “Looks like we’ve got a winner.”
           The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and you smiled, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. These moments - simple, sweet, and filled with love - were what you cherished the most.
           With your pumpkins chosen, the three of you made your way to the check-out, Jack happily talking about the designs he wanted to carve. Aaron carried the pumpkins with ease, while Jack excitedly swung your hand back and forth as you walked.
           As you left the pumpkin patch, the sky began to turn a soft shade of pink, the sun setting behind the rows of trees in the distance. The day had been simple, yet perfect, full of laughter, warmth, and the promise of more moments like this to come. You couldn’t wait to get home, carve the pumpkins together, and continue creating memories with the two people who meant the world to you.
           The fall breeze ruffled your hair as you climbed into the car, Jack still chatting about the spooky faces he wanted to carve into his pumpkin, and Aaron glanced at you with a soft smile - the kind that said everything without needing to say a word. You leaned back in your seat, content and happy.
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           As you walked into the cozy warmth of your home, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering from the candles lit earlier filled the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. Jack dashed ahead, already setting up his carving station at the kitchen table, his excitement palpable. You and Aaron exchanged amused glances, and he placed the pumpkins down with a soft thud, shaking his head with a smile.
           “Looks like we’ve got a true artist on our hands,” Aaron said, ruffling Jack’s hair as he joined him at the table.
           Jack beamed up at his dad, pulling out a small carving kit. “I’m gonna make mine super spooky!” he declared, his eyes shining with determination. He picked up the smaller of the pumpkins and set it before him, his tiny fingers eagerly searching for the best spot to begin.
           You settled next to Jack, your own pumpkin resting on the table. “What do you think we should carve?” you asked, leaning over to give him a playful nudge.
           Jack thought for a moment, tapping his chin dramatically. “How about a ghost? Or a monster with lots of teeth?”
           You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Both sound great! But how about I carve a friendly ghost, and you can make a monster? That way we’ll have a spooky friend and a scary one!”
           Jack’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! And I’ll make mine really big with sharp teeth!”
           As you gathered your carving tools, Aaron leaned back against the counter, watching you both with a soft smile. He loved these moments - seeing Jack so animated, the way you encouraged him, and the warmth that filled the room.
           You picked up your pumpkin, examining its smooth surface. With a pencil, you sketched out a simple yet cheerful ghost. “I want him to be smiling,” you said as you drew the outline. “What do you think, Jack?”
           Jack nodded vigorously, already busy sketching his own design - a monster with exaggerated features, wide eyes, and a toothy grin. “Mine’s gonna be the scariest!”
           As you began carving, you carefully cut into the pumpkin, the blade sawing through the flesh as you focused on bringing your ghost to life. The rhythmic sound of the knife punctuated the room, mingling with Jack’s excited chatter about his creation.
           “Look, Dad!” Jack called, holding up his pumpkin. “What do you think?”
           Aaron stepped closer, his smile broadening as he examined the monster’s jagged teeth and wild eyes. “That looks awesome, buddy! It’s definitely going to scare anyone who comes to our door,” he replied, pride evident in his voice.
           You glanced up, watching the interaction. It was moments like these - seeing the bond between father and son - that made everything feel complete. You turned back to your pumpkin, carving out the top of it, imagining the delight it would bring to Jack on Halloween night.
           Once you finished the outline, you set the knife down and pulled out a small scoop, starting to remove the insides of the pumpkin. Jack watched intently, his curiosity piqued. “Can I help?” he asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.
           “Of course!” you replied, handing him the scoop. “Here, you can scoop out the insides and then we’ll clean them up together.”
           With that, the three of you worked in harmony as Aaron took over Jack's pumpkin for a little while, laughter filling the kitchen as Jack giggled at the squishy guts of the pumpkin. “This is so gross!” he exclaimed, dramatically pretending to gag, which made you and Aaron laugh even harder.
           Aaron scooped out some of the insides of his pumpkin. “You know, it’s not Halloween without a little mess,” he said, looking at Jack with a smirk.
           The atmosphere was filled with warmth and joy, and the soft glow of the candles flickered around the room, casting playful shadows. You glanced at Aaron, catching his eye, and felt a rush of happiness. Watching him interact with Jack - seeing the laughter and love they shared - filled your heart to the brim.
           As the pumpkins began to take shape, you started to add the final details to your ghost, giving it a playful expression. Jack’s monster was turning out wonderfully, its features exaggerated in the best way possible.
           “Look at my monster!” Jack said proudly, showing off his work, eyes sparkling with glee.
           “It’s perfect, Jack!” you praised, leaning closer to inspect the details he had added. “I can’t wait to see how they look all lit up.”
           Once both pumpkins were carved, you placed a small candle inside each one and lit the wicks. The glow illuminated the kitchen, casting a warm, inviting light. You admired the friendly ghost and the menacing monster side by side, feeling a swell of pride.
           Aaron reached for your hand, his thumb brushing against your skin as he gazed at the pumpkins. “You both did an amazing job. I think we’ve got the best pumpkins in all of Virginia,” he said, his voice full of affection.
           “Now we have to put them outside!” Jack exclaimed, hopping off the chair. He darted toward the door, clearly eager to show off the fruits of your labor to all your neighbors.
           You and Aaron followed the excitement bubbling within you. Outside, the stars began to twinkle overhead, and a soft blanket of darkness had settled over the town as you had worked away in the kitchen. As you arranged the pumpkins on the porch, the soft flickering light danced in the night, illuminating the orange shell.
           As you stood together, watching the glowing pumpkins, a sense of peace enveloped you, a beautiful night spent with your two favorite people, filled with laughter, love, and the magic of Halloween.
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lizzy019 · 8 months ago
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đ‘€đ‘œđ‘œđ“ƒđ“ˆđ’œđ’Ÿđ“ƒđ‘’? đ’Żđ’œđ’¶đ“‰'𝓈 đżđ’Ÿđ“†đ“Šđ‘œđ“‡.
Darrel Curtis x Fem!Reader [Reader is a bit nerdy :)]
cw -> fingering, oral (female receiving), car $ex, squÂĄrtÂĄng, lmk if i missed anything!
Word Count -> 1.4K
Gotta make one of every Outsiders character đŸ˜«đŸ˜«
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Staring up at the stars in the night sky was always amiable, especially more now that you were sharing this little time spending activity you did when you were stressed with Darry.
He’d told you he was stressed because of how many bills had come in, some fines he’d received from Dally’s poor choices since his father didn’t wanna pay them off, even just struggling to make time for himself.
The recent bags under his eyes showed that.
Designers too, like Gucci bags.
Hand in hand under the stars, you were happily chit chatting away about random things that weren't relevant to anything, but soothed his stress.
“Did you know Mars has two moons? Phobos and Deimos.. and they both aren’t perfect circles. Jupiter has 92, and Saturn has over 100.” You explained with the softest smile, gazing up at the waxing moon before your eyes.
“It must be bright during the night on Saturn, huh? With all that moonshine, it’d be as bright as day during the night.” Darry murmured in response.
You wanted to burst out cackling, but held back and simply kissed his forehead before saying, “Moonshine? That’s liquor, Darry. Moons don’t make light.”
Darry’s expression turned confused, now that didn’t make sense! How on Earth- well, how on moons could moons not make light? How did they glow?
“Do you know why they glow then?” He asked in a matter-of-factly type of way, which had you giving him the most playful sarcastic look you could before gently squeezing his hand once more.
“It reflects light off of the Sun, Dare.” You answered simply, smiling wide when he hummed in understanding.
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Soon after the stargazing, you two had made your way back to his van to drive home. The silent walk was peaceful, hand in hand and steps taken in synchronized motion so no one was left behind.
Darry was explaining to you about what college he wanted to get into and why, all about his education level and how he would’ve loved to expand his knowledge for the sake of his own future, but he mentioned how he much rather cared for Ponyboy’s comfort and success, and Sodapop’s happiness.
Getting into the car, you two had a soft moment where you simply placed reassuring kisses to his face, smiling the whole way.
“You know you deserve to be happy too, right? You don’t have to work yourself to the bone, I’m here to help pay your bills when things get too tough.” You murmured, a hand on his cheek to keep his face facing you.
Darry’s whole expression softened just a bit, the tension in his eyebrows lessening and his eyes closing a bit in shame.
This wasn’t uncommon, especially for Darry.
“I know sweetie, I just.. You need money too, I don’t want you to stress either.” He whispered.
How sweet of him! Regardless, you gave a pout and gently pulled him closer for a soft kiss, an innocent one to start. Hopefully to shoo his mindset to the side.
“But Darry, it’s not good to put everyone before yourself and try to carry the weight of everything alone. I mean- sure, you have muscle! Don’t get me wrong! But.. you’re gonna end up hurting your mental health.” You tried to coax him to let you help, hand lightly trailing up his bicep.
He was still stunned by the kiss, almost too infatuated with you to even care what you were saying and he instantly pulled you close to kiss him more passionately.
You were honestly a bit shocked, but you melted into the kiss, hands tangling in his hair and keeping him there. Only for him to pull away with a huff and let his eyes darken into something more.. lewd.
“Back of the car, now.” He commanded, unlocking the car doors.
You both hurried from the front seats to the back seats, where the kisses had continued to get more ferocious and strong. Hands groping each other everywhere possible.
“Darry..” You moaned through kisses and gasps. Hands flailing to his back and creating soft scratches on his tee’s fabric.
He took this as a sign to take it off, so he pulled away and hustled to take the cumbersome fabric off, gesturing for you to do the same. Sure enough, you both had gone from simply shirts off to bare naked in the car.
“Isn’t this unsanitary?” You asked with a nervous chuckle.
“Don’t ruin the moment, sweetie.” He laughed in response, kissing your cheek before his hand came to your pussy’s lips.
A cry escaped you as his warm tongue licked up your slick without hesitation. Even if you didn’t shave, he acted as if it was nothing. It was.. nice.
“Oh- Darrel! Oh fuck, yes! Ah!” You writhed in his meticulous movements, the pleasure was congenial.
Hands grabbing as his hair to keep his head between your thighs, you began to shake and shiver, your body seizing up from the ecstasy. You were gonna cum, but you didn’t wanna do it on his face.
“Darry, Darry! Stop.. gonna cum! Don’t wanna- don’t wanna do it!” You mewled out, hands trying to push him away suddenly to avoid the inevitable climax.
Darry was strong, it was like trying to push a brick wall and make it move. Your efforts were pointless, he’d make you cum on his tongue and he’d enjoy it wholeheartedly.
The cord in your lower stomach continued to tighten until you couldn't take it, your pussy walls pulsating with glee as an orgasm whooshed you to cloud nine.
A loud cry was paired with your climax, the juices of your arousal was shot into his mouth and chin as you came down from your high of pure elation.
Darry’s face rose from between your thighs, an expression of delight contorted onto his facial features. Eyebrows a bit raised, eyes bright, and a smile that spoke wonders about what was on his mind.
“Oh baby, that looked like a good one. But we ain’t done yet, not even close.” He smirked almost teasingly, presenting his hardened length to you before positioning himself to your core.
A second or two of rubbing it against your folds, he finally slipped it in and gave a whimper of his own. Slow thrusts were offered at first, in which you accepted wholly.
Soon his thrusts picked up pace, the slapping of skin an almost sinful sound as his body collapsed into a half plank over you. His breath was now audible, and the hefty gasps he was exhaling was now a prominent part of the moment.
“Oh sweetie, you feel so good.. come on, you gonna give me another one? Cum again, on my cock this time.” Darry pleaded.
You nodded, breathlessly giving an “uh-huh!” before your hands were scratching and clawing red streaks across his back. How lewd this was.
His thrusts were met with your hips grinding into his, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix so pleasurably. This alone had you writhing, back arching up away from the seat of the car.
“Darry, Darry! Baby, I’m so close, slow down!” You whined, head burying into his shoulder.
He didn’t slow down, he only heard you say that you were close and that encouraged him to speed up. Hips hitting yours faster was enough to alert you that his climax was approaching too.
Darry’s own moans heightened as his climax neared, he couldn't even hold his half plank and plopped on top of you to thrust into you like a helpless pup in heat. And that’s when your climax hit. Pussy walls spasming had him whimpering.
And after three more heavy, deep thrusts, his seed was spewed into your fertile womb. Even if you were on pregnancy pills, it still felt great knowing his children were swimming to your egg.
Sighs and gasps and huffs were the only noises left for a few moments as you both recuperated.
“Round two?” He asked with a smirk.
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Arriving back home, you happily greeted the tired Ponyboy with a gentle hug before looking in worry at the food Soda made. To put it nicely, it looked.. poisonous.
“Ah, thanks Pepsi-Cola.” Darry sighed contentedly, kissing your cheek before sitting down at the table. You waved goodbye to them all and hustled out.
Once gone, the brothers of Darry looked at him skeptically and whispered to one another.
“Ya think they shagged?” Ponyboy whispered.
“Never seen him so calm, think they did.” Sodapop whispered back before eating away.
Darry was smiling for no reason, just thinking of you for the rest of the day.
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redbleedingrose · 10 months ago
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will you write exhusband!rhys? đŸ„čđŸ„č
Cant promise it will be any good bookie, but for you?? Why not?
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Ex Husband!Rhysand x Reader
Okay so, basically, the only reason why Rhysand agreed to a divorce in the first place is cuz he thought you were being a silly goofy girly pop, this is just a phase right?
Everyone goes through marriage issues. He knows that. So he signs the papers. Because they are just papers and you are still his wife.
He still wears his wedding rings at all times, and he feels a spark in his heart every time he sees you still wearing yours. He is as in love with you as he has ever been, and continues to fall deeper and deeper in love with you every day.
Your time apart from each other under the mountain did little to deter his feelings for you. Whether you like it or not, the night courts high lord is here to stay for you. You are his high lady of course.
So when you ask him to separate your belongings so you can move into a little cottage by the Sidra, he huffs a little sigh with an eye roll, but lets his silly little wife do as she pleases. Because he adores you, and wants to indulge you in your little game.
You won't know that he is buying the house you will live in and is already making renovations to it already to make it more comfortable for you. Renovations including your own private library and a water fountain garden with water that sparkles as the sun sets.
And you certainly won't know that he is getting the little cabin just down the way from your new house so that he can watch over you and anyone else who comes by.
Anyway, his wooing of you never stops. Not even through this silly little divorce game you are playing. He is constantly bringing you flowers, your favorite kind, fresh and in beautifully designed bouquets. Your entire new home is tittering with these flowers, and all the old ones are drying because honestly, you cant bare to part with something your ex husband who you still so dearly love brought for you.
And don't get me started on the other gifts he brings you, brand new clothes from your favorite boutique, specially designed and fitted just for you. He cannot wait to see you wearing them when you take your daily walk together through Velaris that he has convinced you to go on. Just to ensure the citizens that you are still a stable court. Yes, that is the only reason. Simply and only that. And also new jewelry that he spent hours designing with your favorite jeweler, with specifically picked gems from the deep mountain mines buried in the depths of the court that only his keen eye can pick out.
Oh and if your silly little game starts to get more dramatic with you going out on another date with some other male or female??? Well, Rhysand knows how to play games. And he will beat you at this one little darling.
Your moves from now will end up with your ass spanked a bright red with his imprints left behind making it difficult for you to sit down for a solid week after you reconcile with him :(((
And that male you went out with last weekend?
You never see or hear from him again.
And it's weird because you thought you guys had a good time together. He was even discussing going out with you again later next week. Oh well :// ??
Your Rhysie is back at it again coaxing you into going out with him. It's not working but damn are you feeling tempted after the way he fucked you the day after your date. I mean how could he help it? And how could you help yourself?
With the way he was looming at your entryway when your date dropped you off... with the way the darkness of night was rolling from his taut shoulders, with the way his tunic was nearly bursting at the seams with his arms crossed over his broad chest... with the way his churning glare pierced your soul, nearly killed the poor male who had leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek but quickly snatched himself away, murmuring a hurried goodbye before running off.
He barely had you inside the doorway before you were caged into the wall with heated, fierce kisses and roaming hands squeezing and groping at your soft edges. Those violet eyes forced eye contact as he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue 4 times before he graced you with his cock. You did not get ANY rest that night.
But yeah no, it doesn't make any sense as to where that male had gone. But Rhysand just tells you not to worry your pretty mind about it, that your husband is going to take care of all your needs darling, "you don't need any other male to be touching your stunning body, only me love, only your husband." Chuckling darkly when you whine at him, "Ex husband Rhys, you're forgetting the ex part" and weakly pull at his wandering fingers, squirming in his tight hold as his front presses directly against your behind, nearly falling to your knees when you feel the softest pecks along the length of your neck.
And well
. how can you help yourself? Rhys is just too good at making you feel good.
It's not your fault he has you nearly trained to cum on command. It's not your fault he is quietly slipping into your mind, feeding it dirty thoughts and images on how he used to take you. How he used to bend you over every piece of furniture or how he could have you cumming in 30 seconds just by his middle finger and thumb alone or how his thigh felt so so good rutting against your cunt when he edged you or how he just gets so deep in you, cock nudging and sliding against spots you didn't even know existed in you.
You're just a silly little wife who was a bit jealous of some girl named whose name Rhysie can't even remember, something bout her saving Prythian from Amarantha??
Rhys really couldn't care less though, the only female he knows and thinks of is you.
And don't you worry darling. The minute you finally agree to try again with Rhys, he flys you to nearest temple, the marriage "reinstatement" ceremony was only for your little mind to be put at ease.
Besides, he never let your divorce papers go past that one horrid priestess who had actually agreed to notarize it. In fact, the priestess was
 well
.
Let's just say he took great care in ensuring that no one else would ever even suggest on agreeing to such a mistake again. The bone carver was quite pleased with his new
 assortment of skeletal remains the high lord of night gifted him in exchange for a future favor. Such innocent and pure bones from an old priestess are hard to come by these days!!!
And the weaver enjoyed some eyeball soup from Rhys. And don't you worry, Az and Cass helped dismember that old ratty priestess with their brother. They supported Rhys heavily and would not stop at one... or maybe two souls being taken.
Anyway!!! We love a delulu Rhys đŸ©·đŸ’‹đŸ˜đŸ„°
Rhysand Masterlist
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valkyriexo · 10 months ago
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Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 2 - Favors
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ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.
ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids
ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery
ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ; Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI
ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  Death, Suggestive MDNI, Cursing
EPISODE WORD COUNT; 4.7k
AUTHOR'S NOTE ;Surprise! Episode 2.. have you ruled some people out yet?
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me.
Master Post | Teaser |
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The morning sun casts a warm glow over the bustling streets as you and Chan make your way through the vibrant shopping district. Surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within you.
As you stroll arm in arm with Chan, laughter spills from your lips, the carefree atmosphere infectious as you revel in each other's company. The windows of the shops lining the street display an array of enticing goods, each one tempting you with its allure.
Entering a boutique, you're greeted by a wave of delightful scents and the soft melody of music playing in the background. You browse through racks of clothing, giggling and flirting as you playfully model various outfits for each other.
"What about this?" he asks, trying to contain his smile. You can't help but burst into laughter at Chan's suggestion, his playful grin infectious as he holds up the most outrageous garment he could find.
"This could work perfectly for the family dinner."
"Oh, absolutely," you reply with a playful grin, "I'm sure my parents would love to see you show up in that."
"You know what? I think there's a matching one for you," he says with a sly grin, disappearing into the racks of clothing.
Moments later, Chan emerges from the racks of clothing with a triumphant grin, holding up what can only be described as a fashion disaster. The dress in question is a riot of colors, with clashing patterns and textures that seem to defy all sense of style. But what truly sets it apart are the dozens of teddy bears, each one seemingly hand-sewn onto the fabric with reckless abandon.
"Voila!" he exclaims, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of the garment.
"Chan, what on earth is that?" you manage to choke out between giggles.
Chan's eyes widen dramatically, a look of mock horror crossing his face. "What? You don't like it?" he exclaims, his voice filled with playful disbelief. "To think, I put so much effort into finding the perfect ensemble, only to have my impeccable taste called into question."
You play along with his theatrics, pretending to be remorseful. "Oh, forgive me, fashion guru," you say with a grin, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly. "But that thing looks like it was designed by a kindergartener on a sugar rush."
Chan chuckles, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Okay, maybe not the best choice," he admits, his laughter blending with yours as you share a lighthearted moment amidst the racks of clothing.
"Ooh, what do you think of this one?" you ask, grabbing a dress that caught your eye. As you hold the dress in front of you, its allure is undeniable. The flowy skirt cascades from your hands, swaying gently with each movement, while the corset top adds a touch of allure and sophistication to the ensemble.
The corset is expertly tailored. Its intricate lace-up design adds a hint of drama and elegance, drawing the eye to the sculpted lines of the bodice.
Chan's eyes light up as he gazes at you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Absolutely stunning," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. 
"The dress or me?" you say.
Chan's grin widens as he steps closer, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed appreciation. "Well, the dress is lovely, But you? You're dangerous"
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Dangerous, huh?" you echo, feigning innocence as you tilt your head, "And why's that?"
Chan's grin widens. "Well, it's simple," he says, his voice a smooth, seductive murmur, "because you make heads turn so hard they might break their necks." The words hang in the air, thick with implication, as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.. "You make it impossible to look away, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, he closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It's a moment of sweet surrender, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine as you melt into the embrace.
When he finally pulls away, a knowing smile plays at the corners of his lips, his eyes alight with affection. "See what I mean?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Absolutely dangerous."
You can't help but laugh at his corny yet utterly charming response, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Smooth talker," you tease, nudging him playfully
"Smooth talker? Nah, I prefer to think of myself as a master of compliments," he quips. "But hey, if the shoe fits..."
As you glance past Chan, your laughter fades as something catches your eye through the boutique window. Your gaze falls on a figure standing farther away, amidst the bustling crowd of people passing by. Despite the distance, their eyes seem to lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
You freeze for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to make out their features through the crowd. You realize that their features are obscured not just by the throng of people, but also by an oversized hood and mask that conceals most of their face, leaving only a vague silhouette in your line of sight.
With a surge of determination, you shove the dress into Chan's hands, your urgency evident in the abruptness of your movements. "Hold this," you instruct him quickly, your voice trembling.
Before Chan can react, you turn on your heel and bolt out of the boutique, your heart pounding in your chest. Pushing through the wave of shoppers, you make your way towards them, only to find that they have vanished into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but an eerie sense of déjà vu.
"Where are you going?" Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone laced with concern as he noticed your sudden change in direction. Frustration mounts as you search fruitlessly for any sign of the stranger, your senses on high alert. But no matter how hard you looked, they were gone.
"I saw... something," you reply cryptically, your focus solely on tracking down the shadowy figure that had captured your attention.
Chan's hand finds yours, his touch grounding you in the midst of your swirling thoughts. "Saw what?" he questions, his tone gentle yet insistent.
"I-....Nothing....Nevermind," you murmur, shaking your head slightly as you try to dismiss the unsettling encounter. Despite Chan's comforting presence, the memory of the mysterious figure lingers in the back of your mind
"Are you sure?" Chan asks, his concern evident in his voice. "We can stay if you want, but if you're feeling unwell, maybe we should head home."
You consider his suggestion, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of leaving the bustling street behind. "Yeah, let's go home," you agree, a small smile playing on your lips. "And hey, how about we cook lunch together? It could be fun."
Chan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that," he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's get going then." With his hand in yours, you allow him to lead you away from the busy street.
Once home, you kick off your shoes and settle into the cozy ambiance of your shared space. Chan wastes no time in heading to the kitchen, his enthusiasm for cooking evident as he gathers ingredients and starts preparing lunch.
As you watch him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, you find your thoughts drifting, a slight fog settling over your mind. You know you should be helping him, but the weight of your thoughts is making it difficult to focus. Your mind is a mix of thoughts, uncertainties, and unresolved questions.
"Hey, could you help me out with this?" Chan's voice breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to the present.
You blink, realizing you've been lost in your own thoughts for a few minutes. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your voice slightly distant.
Chan gives you a concerned look. "I asked if you could cut this cucumber for me," he repeats, holding out the vegetable and a knife.
You take them from him, trying to shake off the fog that clouds your mind. "Right, sorry," you mumble, feeling guilty for not being more present.
As you slice through the cucumber, your mind still feels preoccupied. Chan's voice brings you back once again.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks at you.
You meet his gaze, offering him a weak smile. "Yeah, just lost in thought," you reply, though you know it's more than that.
In response, Chan sets down the ingredients he's working with and moves closer to you. There's a determined yet gentle look in his eyes as he takes your hand, pulling you away from the cutting board and towards him.
Without a word, he guides you to sit on the edge of the countertop opposite him. His touch is comforting as he stands between your legs, his hands resting on your waist.
"You seem really on edge," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Is there something specific that's bothering you?"
You hesitate. "I don't know," you murmur, not really wanting to reveal much.
"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?" Chan's voice is gentle but probing, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
"I don't know," you confess. "I'm just feeling.....weird."
Chan's lips brush against your neck in a tender gesture, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
"Feeling weird huh....," he murmurs against your skin, his warm breath sending a wave of tingles through you. You find yourself nodding, unable to form coherent thoughts as his lips continue their mesmerizing dance along your skin. The tension that had gripped your shoulders begins to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of warmth and arousal.
"Does this help?" his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His hands wander back down to your waist, tugging you closer. You feel the heat from his body even through the layers of clothing, his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. You nod again, feeling your face grow hot as your body reacts to his touch. "You always help," you reply softly, melting into his comforting touch as his lips trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. 
He looks up, meeting your gaze with gratitude and affection. Leaning in, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The soft, sweet press of his lips is everything you've dreamed of and more.
He moans softly as your tongue darts out to tease at the seam of his lips, eagerly granting you access. You can taste the faint traces of peppermint on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, tangling with yours in a heated dance.
You sigh happily, losing yourself in the kiss as the world seems to fall away around you.
He slides a hand up the back of your neck, gripping your hair and using it to pull you closer to him. His mouth moves over yours, hot and hungry.
"Tell me what's on your mind, love," he urges, his voice husky with desire.
"It's...it's nothing," you breathe, gasping slightly as his hand tightens in your hair. " I was just... just thinking.." you stutter as he trails a line of hot kisses along your jaw.
"Mmmhmm" he purrs, his breath warm against your skin.
His hands slide down back down your sides, caressing your hips and then moving further south to cup your ass. He squeezes firmly, making you gasp in surprise, and then grinds his hips against you, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through your body.
"Chan," you moan, arching your back and pressing closer to him. You want more. Need more.
"Hmmm?" he hums against your lips, kissing you again.
"You're distracting me."
He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Maybe that's the point," he murmurs, his hand moving to your front to palm your breast through your shirt. You whimper softly as he continues to explore your body with his mouth and hands, teasing you mercilessly until you can’t take it anymore.
A faint sound interrupts the peace of the moment. It's barely noticeable at first, like a distant melody weaving its way into the room.
Chan lifts his head slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you say something?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“Chan, want you..” You beg.
He smirks against your lips and pulls away slightly, looking down at you with dark eyes. “What do you want?” he asks, voice low and husky.
“Tell me what you want, baby.... I need to know.” You swallow thickly, your face heating up at the way he stares at you with lust in his eyes.
He growls low in his throat and leans back down to kiss you again, more forcefully this time. His tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. The taste of him fills your senses and makes your head spin.
"You."
His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, caressing your skin. You can't help but arch your back, pressing closer to him.
"Please..." you beg.
He trails kisses down the column of your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a path of fire in their wake. He bites down on the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you gasp in pleasure.
His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt and push it aside, revealing the black lace bra underneath.
The faint sound interrupts the space once more, still barely noticeable.
Chan lifts his head again slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you hear that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You shake your head, the sensation of his touch still lingering on your skin, your attention fully focused on him.
He frowns and turns his attention back to your exposed chest, placing kisses in the valley in your chest. He lets out a contented sigh and moves lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your stomach.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your skin. " but i know something that taste so much sweeter."
Your breath catches in your throat as his lips brush against your inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there.
He pulls back and looks up at you, his dark eyes burning with desire.
"You want me, baby?"he asks, his voice rough with need. You nod wordlessly, unable to speak. He smirks and places another soft kiss against your skin, making your whole body shudder. "Say it."
"Y-yes."
"Say my name," he commands, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.
"Chan."
"Again."
"Chan."
"Louder."
"Chan!"
"Mmmm."
His tongue darts out to lick a stripe along the seam of your panties, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
You can feel his hot breath on your core, teasing you through the thin material. You moan, arching up against him, and his hands move lower, slipping into your panties. His fingers brush over your folds, and he lets out a low growl as he feels how wet you are.
"So wet for me already, babygirl?" he murmurs, his lips pressed against your ear.
"Yes," you breathe, squirming under his touch. "I need you, Channie."
The sound persists, growing slightly louder this time, and you both become aware of a subtle vibration beneath you. Gradually, realization dawns as you exchange a puzzled glance.
Chan runs his other hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Okay," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and determination. "I know I'm not going crazy."
With a sudden jolt of recognition, you shift and reach into your pocket and retrieve your phone.
You glance at the screen, irritation flaring up as the same unfamiliar number flashes over and over again. Chan shoots you a pointed look, his annoyance palpable.
"Who is it?" he mutters, his eyes narrowing.
"It's some number ," you reply, your frustration mirroring his. "They keep calling me, and I don't know who it is."
With a sigh, you decline the call and return the phone to your pocket.
"Well, whoever it is, they can wait," he growls, leaning in to continue his previous actions.
The phone vibrates once again, the display illuminating.
You both let out an exasperated groan as the ringing persists.
"This is ridiculous," he huffs, his lips curled into a frown. "Why won't they just leave a message or something?"
The phone continues to ring, its shrill sound cutting through the silence of the room. You sit up, reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace, and reach for your phone again. "Fine, I'll answer it," you grumble, pressing the answer button with more force than necessary.
"Must be important if they're calling this many times," he remarks under his breath. You offered a strained smile in response before finally speaking into the phone, trying to keep your frustration in check as you greeted the unknown caller.
"Hello?" you say, trying to ignore Chan's comment.
"Hello, Y/N."
"Yes? Who is this? How do you know my name?" Your voice trembled with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, the unexpected familiarity sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but there's been a fire at Y/F/N's house," the voice continued, its words carrying a weight that seemed to crush the very air around you. "They... they didn't make it out in time. I'm so sorry."
The world seemed to come to a screeching halt as the full impact of those words registered in your mind. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight settling over you like a suffocating blanket.
Shock immobilizes you, rendering you momentarily speechless as your mind struggles to process the news. Disbelief clouds your thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, you entertain the hope that this must be some cruel prank or a terrible misunderstanding. But the solemnity in the caller's voice leaves no room for doubt, and the reality of the situation hits you with relentless force.
"What?" The word escapes your lips in a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. It feels as though the ground beneath you has shifted.
"Your friend has passed away," the voice repeats, its tone filled with sympathy.
Your breaths come in shallow gasps as you struggle to comprehend the news, each inhalation feeling like a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down upon your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment, but you fight to hold them back, afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to surrender to the overwhelming sense of grief. Your hands tremble as you clutch the phone tightly, the cold metal offering little solace in the face of such devastating news.
Chan's irritation dissipates instantly as he sees the color drain from your face. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with worry.
You struggle to find the words, your mind reeling from the devastating news. "It's... it's ," you manage to choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "She didn't make it... there was a fire..."
As you relay the news, Chan's expression shifts from concern to horror as your words sink in. His features contort with disbelief, mirroring the shock and anguish etched across your own face. For a moment, neither of you can find the words to articulate the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume you both.
All around you, the morning light seems to dim, casting a pall of darkness over the room as you come to terms with the harsh reality of mortality. The laughter and playful banter of moments ago fade into the background, replaced by the deafening silence of grief.
"I never got to say goodbye," you confess. Chan's arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the pain that threatens to overwhelm you. You bury your face in his chest, his heartbeat echoing in your ears.
The phone slips from your grasp, forgotten amidst the grief. Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotions, the world around you fading into insignificance as you grapple with the void left behind by your friend's passing.
In an attempt to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos, you seek refuge in the familiar routine of your self-care, the warm shower offering a brief respite from the relentless pain. But even as the water cascades over you, washing away the physical traces of sorrow, the weight of grief remains heavy upon your shoulders, a reminder of the gaping hole in your heart.
When you emerge, you are greeted by the sight of Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han, chatting quietly with Chan as they enjoy the lunch he had prepared.
Your heart sinks at the sight of them, a mix of surprise and apprehension washing over you. You had completely forgotten that they were supposed to come over today, and the thought of facing them in your current state fills you with dread.
Before you can retreat back into the safety of your room, Felix spots you, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of concern and understanding. There's no escaping now. You feel a lump form in your throat as you reluctantly step into the room, their eyes following your every move.
Chan's expression softens as he catches sight of you, concern etched into his features. "Hey, there you are," he says gently, his voice a welcome anchor in the storm of emotions raging within you.
You offer a weak smile in response, attempting to mask your emotions. The weight of their collective gaze feels suffocating, and you find it difficult to meet their eyes.
Minho offers a sympathetic smile as you approach, his eyes reflecting the shared sorrow. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine compassion.
Your throat tightens with emotion at his words, grateful for his heartfelt condolences. "Thank you," you manage to croak, each syllable heavy with the weight of your grief. You step closer to them, the fragrant scent of the flowers filling the air around you. "This means a lot."
Seungmin nods in agreement. "We're here for you," he assures you earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity and support.
You offer Seungmin a grateful nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion.
With a final round of supportive embraces and reassuring words, Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han bid their farewells, their departure leaving an emptiness in the room. As the door closes behind them, the silence settles in around you, heavy with the weight of your grief.
Your eyes catch sight of a single black rose with a white ribbon tied around it, placed delicately on the counter, near the gift basket. The ribbon, elegantly tied around the stem in a neat bow, adds an air of mourning to the scene, evoking memories of funeral bouquets and memorial services. It's presence feels out of place in the bright warmth of your home, casting a shadow of unease over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere.
Beside the rose, the torn page from a diary lies in disarray, its edges jagged and uneven, hinting at a hurried and frantic tearing. As you approach, the faint scent of ink lingers in the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of the rose.
"What... what is this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to examine the mysterious objects. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pick up the torn page, the words written upon it sending a chill down your spine.
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 You quietly read the note out aloud, the words sinking in with a weight that threatens to crush your spirit.
It's the same signature as the letter you received the night before, the one that filled you with a sense of foreboding.
This wasn't just a casual letter. It was intentional. Someone out there is targeting you, and you can't help but feel a creeping sense of unease at the thought of what might happen next.
Your mind races with questions, each one more terrifying than the last. Was "Her" referring to your friend? Did someone harm her? The possibility sends a wave of panic coursing through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the cryptic message.
Then the realization sinks in:
How did it get in the house?
You frantically look around for Adam, your bodyguard, realizing he should have been by your side. Panic sets in as you rush to the door, throwing it open to find him outside. Confusion and fear intertwine as you demand an explanation.
"Adam, what are you doing out here?" you ask, your voice trembling with urgency. "You were supposed to be inside with me. Why are you here?"
Adam's expression is grave as he meets your gaze, a shadow of concern flickering across his features. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, his tone tinged with regret. "I sensed something off and decided to check the perimeter. Is everything okay?"
You furrow your brow, a mixture of frustration and concern evident in your voice as you question him. "How did this get inside?" you say waving the note and flower in your hand.
Adam's gaze follows the items, his expression darkening as he takes them from you, examining them closely. He hesitates for a moment, looking puzzled before responding, "I'm not sure," he admits, his voice tight with worry. "I didn't see anything, ma'am."
Your irritation grows. "Isn't it your job to do just that?" you say sharply, the edge in your voice reflecting your annoyance at the situation.
Adam, visibly flustered, stammers out . "I apologize, ma'am," He said bowing. "I'll check with the other guards on duty as well as Stacy, who was here this morning"
"Who's Stacy?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar name.
As if on cue, Aera enters through the front entrance, her presence graceful as she bows respectfully. "That would be me, ma'am," she says, introducing herself with a polite smile. "It's my English name. Most people call me Stacy. Though I must admit, I prefer Aera."
You nod in acknowledgment, still processing the unexpected revelation.
You address your bodyguard with a firm tone, your frustration evident. "Under no circumstances are you to allow anything or anyone into my home without my explicit permission. Is that clear?"
He nods in understanding, chastened by your stern reprimand. "Yes, ma'am," he responds.
You turn your gaze towards Aera, a firm expression etched upon your features. "And why, may I ask, are you here?" you inquire, your tone tinged with a hint of sternness.
Aera's eyes widen slightly, and she bows apologetically. "I... I'm sorry for the intrusion," she stammers, her voice soft with regret. "I wanted to offer my condolences, but I realize now that I've interrupted."
Aera retrieves a bouquet of flowers from behind her back, her movements hesitant as she extends it towards you with a slight bow,her eyes downcast with humility.
You nod, acknowledging her apology, taking the bouquet, delicately tied together with a pristine white ribbon, from her hands. "Thank you, Aera," you say, your voice softening slightly. "But next time, please check with me before coming over."
Aera bows again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Of course, I'm sorry," she says, her tone contrite. "I'll make sure to do that in the future."
As she turns to leave, Chan steps forward, concern etching his features as he approaches you, his touch gentle as he places a comforting hand on your back. Aera's gaze lingers on him for a moment, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes before she quickly averts her gaze and bows once more.
"Thank you. You may go home now," you say, dismissing her with a nod. Aera bows again, her expression a mix of regret and understanding, before quietly leaving.
Turning to Adam, you gesture for him to follow suit. "You too," you say, your voice firm but not unkind. Adam bows respectfully before leaving, leaving you alone with Chan and the weight of the day's events settling upon your shoulders.
Chan notices the tension in your posture, his concern evident as he approaches you with a gentle touch.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You offer him a reassuring smile, though it feels strained. "Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though the words ring hollow even to your own ears.
Chan's gaze softens as he takes in your troubled expression. "You don't have to pretend, you know," he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."
Chan notices your hesitation and gently prompts, "You've been on edge all day. Do you want to talk? I want to help."
As you lean into Chan's comforting embrace, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, but the sense of unease still lingers at the edge of your consciousness. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to voice your concerns.
"I... I feel like someone's watching me," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chan's brow furrows with concern. "Watching you? Why didn't you tell me before?" he asks gently, his concern evident in his tone.
You hesitate, searching for an explanation. "I'm not actually sure," you admit, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping it from him.
"Well, do you think it's your mind playing tricks on you?" Chan suggests, trying to offer a rational explanation. "Now that you've won Artist of the Year, you probably just feel like more attention is on you."
"Yeah, you're right," you concede, the weight of his words resonating with you. Perhaps it was just your imagination running wild in the aftermath of your recent success.
"Besides," he adds, "you have a bodyguard. He's good at his job. You're safe with him around."
You nod, appreciating his attempt to ease your worries. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. 
"And you also have me," he adds
Chan's concern is evident in the softness of his gaze as he gently suggests, "How about a massage?"
His caring tone and thoughtful suggestion warm your heart, and you can't help but smile at his consideration. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "But I think I just want to rest," you admit, exhaustion tugging at your limbs as the events of the day catch up with you.
Chan's lips curve into a reassuring smile as he squeezes your hand gently. "Okay." He says.
With a heavy heart, you decide against sharing the note with Chan. You don't want to burden anyone of your fears, and the thought of putting him in harm's way fills you with dread.
What if whoever sent this comes after him next?
For now, you keep the note to yourself, tucked away where no one else can find it. It's a burden you'll bear alone, at least until you can figure out who's behind this and why they're doing it.
But no matter how hard you try, the sense of foreboding lingers, a constant reminder that danger may be closer than you think.
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àȘ‡àŹ“ Ep.3 - Knock, Knock
àȘ‡àŹ“Taglist in the comments! If you want to be removed from the taglist send me a dm!
àȘ‡àŹ“ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
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archangeldyke-all · 10 months ago
Note
wait—can we do plug!Sevika going to reader’s nail salon appointment. (maybe even getting her own matching nails done đŸ‘ïž)
yesss!!
nail inspo!
men and minors dni
now that she's your girlfriend, sevika insists on paying for your nails.
she insists on paying for most things, actually. you've had to remind her from time to time that she's just as much your girlfriend as you are hers, and that while you might not be rolling in quite as much cash as she is, you do work enough to treat her sometimes. she's gotten better at letting you buy things for her and the two of you.
but she hasn't budged on the nails.
"what're you gonna get?" sevika asks as she pulls open the door to the salon for you.
"i was thinking black and white stars." you say, shrugging. sevika smirks.
"how long? sharp?" she asks, like she always does. you just giggle and elbow her.
"obviously." you chuckle. you get all checked in, then go to sit in the waiting room. you're surprised when sevika sits beside you.
usually, she'll wait with you to get checked in, hand you a wad of cash, kiss your cheek, then leave to make a few home deliveries while you get your nails done.
"you're staying?" you ask. she nods.
"can i?" she asks. you chuckle.
"obviously, baby, i just wish you woulda told me. i woulda packed you a book or your switch in my purse." you pout at her, worried she'll get bored. she smiles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek again.
"i'll be okay. i got my phone, i got you to look at, i'll be good."
"sap."
it's a slow day, so your nail tech lets sevika sit at the little table beside you. the three of you chat for a bit-- sevika acts like she's shy, but she loves gossiping, and your nail tech is always in some kind of drama.
as your tech gina files down your old set and builds up your new one, sevika mentions that she's a plug, and with gina's boss' permission, a few of the pre-rolls sevika's always carrying on her get passed around the entire salon, all the techs and clients getting progressively gigglier as they smoke.
"so what kinda design do you want today, honey?" gina asks. you tell her your vision and she nods along smiling. "and for you, baby?" she asks sevika.
seivka's eyebrows shoot up. "oh!" she says. you giggle. "uh... i have to keep my nails short for work... among other things." she mumbles that last part, so only you can hear it. you kick her under the table, biting back your laugh.
"i can do a simple clear manicure! lemme treat you since you treated all of us." gina begs, pouting. this is why you're always coming back to her.
"actually..." sevika thinks, a sparkle in her eye. "could you make mine match hers? but, like, simpler?" she requests.
you grin, butterflies bursting in your stomach. if your nails weren't under the lamp right now, you'd pull sevika forward for a sloppy kiss.
gina grins and nods, then reaches forward to take sevika's hands in hers, inspecting her nails.
two hours later, you and sevika leave the salon hand in hand, your matching maniucres glistening in the evening sun.
sevika's inspecting her free hand, grinning down at it as you navigate the two of you through the parking lot. "i feel so pampered right now." she giggles. "my nails are so shiny!"
"you look great baby." you laugh. she looks over at you, still smiling, and you pull her in for a kiss.
when you pull away, sevika's got a dark look in her eye. your stomach flops over, and you know she's going to say something dirty before she even speaks.
"you gonna let me take you home so i can see how pretty my nails look on your cunt?" she asks.
you just groan, flicking her forehead and hiding your flustered expression behind your hand as you wait for her to open the passenger door for you.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676
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underratedmurder · 5 months ago
Text
There's a nice feeling to it (Fred Weasley x Reader fluff)
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Hello again!
I'm back and also, I hope you like this, whoever you are, reading this right now, I'm typing this right now, and RIGHT NOW you're reading it. Crazy.
TW: Nothing at all! (#sfw)
Enjoy
_______________
Wind is sliding between the cracks in the window and pooling into your room, tickling your skin and making your feet cold. It smells sweet and ripe, crisp, like a freshly picked apple, or recently washed hair. The smells fill the room like an intoxicating candle, and you watch as leaves drift by outside, gliding down and glittering in the setting sun. The tangy smell of lemon is just penetrating your nose, making your mouth water a bit.
There's a light knock on the door, and you whisk your wand to unlock it, a tiny spark illuminating the keyhole.
The nob turns, and Fred Weasley, pokes his head through, red hair radiating as the sun hits.
"Locking the door again, are we? What are you so afraid of?" he prods, smiling and walking towards your bed by the window.
"You and George's jacklepoppers aren't bursting in here again," you smile back, scooching over as he climbs onto the covers next to you.
He had never done that before; you felt all tingly as the mattress dipped slightly to his weight.
"But I thought you loved them?" he whines, looking up at you as he tilts his head down, eyes all glittery.
You twist your mouth and shake your head disapprovingly. He huffs and laughs a bit, and you can feel the air on your face.
You look at him, quirking a brow. He came up here for a reason, and you would never admit that it was just to see you.
"Mum made lemon loaf,"
"I know,"
"It's good, though she never adds enough sugar, I think she's too afraid since George and I got dust mites in it last month,"
He's wearing a sweater with red, blue, and orange stripes, each detailed with intricate flowers and pretty designs. You aren't sure what the style is called, but you know it's pretty.
"Nice jumper," it felt good to compliment him, even if it was inadvertent and directed at his clothes.
He smirks, looking up and reaching you pinch your arm
"Ye?,"
"Mhm, your mum made it right?"
"Course she did, she reckons I should take up knitting myself soon. Not always gonna have her around to do it for me."
You shake your head, "There's a charm for that isn't there?"
"There's a charm for everything,"
"And I guess you already know it?"
"Of course I do, I'm a genius," he says smugly, holding onto his own arms.
The chill in the air was blowing harsher now, and you shivered.
"Are you cold?" he relaxes a bit and shifts forward.
"I'm fine, it feels nice,"
He pokes your arm, his fingertip warm like a match stick.
"You've got goosepimples everywhere," he mumbles, studying your skin.
He inches closer, and you open your mouth to say something, then stop as you feel his palm flatten on the side of your arm.
You become still, watching his fingers graze you to grasp your arm. His palm is like the sun.
He looks at you, waiting for you to let him, let him, let him what?
You didn't know, but you looked back at him. You said yes, relaxing your arm into his hand.
He sits there, feeling your skin, rubbing his thumb slowly up and down.
He silently reaches behind him, and grabs a soft blanket from your headboard.
"Come closer," he says softly, and you're not sure you hear him correctly.
You just stare at him, until you see he's spreading his legs a bit to make room for you. You can't believe it, and yet you prop yourself up to move towards him.
You come to face him, his face tilted away so your noses aren't literally right up against each other. His cheeks almost look a little red, but that's just because of the sun, you convince yourself.
You turn around, and sit in front of him, hesitant to lay back. He's never been this close to you, other than from a hug. And he's sat back on your bed, and you're in between his legs, and his hands feel soft, and everything happening all at once is making your whole face hot.
He brings his arms in front of you to place the blanket, you instantly feel cozy, the fuzz of the blanket on your arms tickles.
The sun is shining just above your head, and you imagine what his hair looks like, bright, and his eyes, kind and brown. You want to turn around and look at him, but you're frozen again.
Suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, lightly pulling you down onto his chest.
Your heart skips a beat until, there, you feel it. It's his heartbeat, racing so quickly, you could swear he was a rabbit under attack. Now you're warm all over. The back of your neck itching a bit from the wool of his sweater. But there's a nice feeling to it.
Your heartbeat is picking up to the speed of his, and you feel an immense rush of adrenaline. He's tensing up, hands still, and he's nearly silent except for his shuddered exhales.
You've never seen him so careful, save for when he's pulling off some trick, silent as a mouse and careful on his feet despite being so large. He's deliberate, calculative, and still, excited, like he's trying to reach the ultimate finish line. And you wonder if he feels the same way now. You wonder if you can get him to breath like normal again, even though there is this guilty giddiness you have, feeling just how different he is in this position.
You lay back more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder, even daring to move and adjust yourself to get comfortable. And just like that, it stops. His heart is slow, and his arms come to rest around you.
"This is..." you start.
"Bloody perfect? Yeah, I agree," he scoffs, he sounds perfectly content and also in utter disbelief.
Your face turns hot again, and you smile like an idiot.
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sp00kcanwrite · 1 year ago
Note
Hear me out- i'm cooking here some idea! Like- what if Sun wukong, Macaque (separatedly) met an Reader who is an Goddess of the Moon, like, not like Chang'e but mostly THE Protector! One of the elements, like, they met her when she was humming a tune while sitting on a little moon shape floaty thing (The Design might be inspired of Moonlight Cookie From Cookie run Ovenbreak/Kingdom! So you get an idea of how to do it <33) Some Headcanons??? I'll gladly love to read it! It can be Some fluff or something about them both having a crush on The Reader (bro's gonna go wild if they found out Reader is lesbi-) (jk,jk, just an nerd joke from the moonlight x sea fairy story)
Just an fan of Moonlight Cookie here! Love your fics <33
Stay healthy and keep yourself all good
-This dumb nerd
I LOVE COOKIE RUN TO!
This is my first,and (probably will always be) my favorite request ♡♡♡
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MACAQUE X MOON GODDESS! READER
Maybe a bit OOC
_____________________
MEETING!
Macaque never thought he'd stumble into a moon goddess but here he is!
After a fight with wukong, in wich macaque barely got away, he fled to a usually empty lake surrounded by woods .
He didn't expect the isolated area to be occupied by a women with almost glowing skin and a ethereal dress to be sitting elegantly on a Cresent moon like platform that floated 5 inches away from the water of the lake and gave off a white glow.
The woman hummed a soft tune that would put thousands of children to sleep. Though it was very quiet macaque would've been able to hear it from a mile away, he almost fell asleep as he felt the insomnia he's been plagued with for years slip away.
His black claws gripped onto the bark of a tree as he watched the lady for, he doesn't even know how long at this point.
Maybe his grip was to strong as the wood eventually let out a booming Crack and fell forward, right into the lake. The water splashed over the woman sitting in a Cresent moon.
HEADCANONS!!
I won't lie that man fled as soon as the wood gave out, faster then sonic i swear. Yet he found himself coming back to the same lake, to hear the same humming tune that you sung.
After awhile, I'd say 4 weeks, you'd finally introduce yourself. And boy did that shock the raven haired monkey as he thought he was being rather sneaky.
It takes a while for him to warm up to you but patience is perfection! And trust me eventually he did, and soon that friendship blossomed into something else.
He thought of you every night, everything about you intoxicated the guy. Your humming, your face, your eyes, and even how quiet you spoke.
He knew he had it bad but couldn't convince himself to confess, so what does he do? He ghosts you
For a pretty long times (cough 8 days) until you finally take actiona and burst into his dojo, your moon staff in hand, and demanded a explanation on why he was avoiding you.
After a long while of bickering he accidentally slips out a confession, you paused completely when you heard the words come out your mouth.
Oddly enough..you didn't mind it
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MEETING!
Ya'll know how in the books he was described to be a light weight drinker? Yeah it was true. And he's a man of bad luck to run into the same moon goddess that he treated so rudely in the past.
He was stumbling threw a forest, god knows how he got there, and ran into a glowing woman that sat sleepily on a Cresent moon. And when I say ran in I mean it, he ran full force into you by accident of course.
By the time you got up and held him by his collar the man was knocked out, he wanted to smack him over the skull buttt that wouldn't be very "elegant" for you (definitely not because you knew he was THE sun wukong)
So you dragged him to FFF mountain, all the way into the shame shack and threw him on his bed. But sadly this powerful demon had, in his sleep, gripped onto your flowing gown and pulled you onto the bed with him.
No matter how hard you wiggled or squirmed you were stuck being wukongs brand new stuffed toy for the night.
______________
He was out like a rock, you had to summon your staff and hit him a couple of times before he even opened a eye.
But oh boy when he did you screamed louder then any siren could in all 7 seas. Not from fear, but from hangover shock.
You scoffed at his girlish scream and turned your nose up to his lazy apology. As you went to the door the great sage folded over on the ground, and started breathing heavy? Was he gagging? Why- OH CRAP
I don't think I need to say what happened next, it ended with him bent over a toilet and you helping him up. You don't know how or why but you stayed for a good 6 hours just listening to the obviously touch deprived monkey, you could tell by how he clinged on your arm, ramble on and laugh at his antics in the past. Tha antics that caused alot of trouble to the moon you protected.
Turns out the great sage has some overpowering charm as you found yourself showing up to his house again
And again
And again
Until you memorized flower fruit mountain like it was the back of your hand.
The lonely great sage found himself growing fonder and fonder of you each day, he wondered why his heart beat so much, why his palm went sweaty or why he felt hot around you.
Until it hit him the day you cooked him a peach pie.
He had hearts in his eyes as he held your wrist, catching the steaming pie with his tail he looked you in the eye and said with much confidence.
"I love you!"
"I like woman-"
(JK)
(JK)
You stared with shock as the monkey man confessed his feelings, and as hard as a asteroid hitting the moon your lips crashed with his.
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roanniom · 1 year ago
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since ur on a plane its only right to request mile high club with steve x reader â€Œïžâ€ŒïžđŸ”„đŸ”„âœˆïž
Up in the Clouds
Businessman!Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, public sex/plane sex, fingering, a lil sugar daddy-ing from Steve but there’s no arrangement, he just likes showering you with gifts cuz he can
You’d never flown first class before. In fact, you’d rarely flown at all. That all changed when you started dating Steve Harrington. Notorious playboy Steve Harrington loved the finer things in life - expensive booze, beautiful women, fast cars, exotic places, and first class tickets.
That’s how you find yourself sequestered in the little pod that surrounds your two expensive seats. A blanket covering your lap as his hand lazily plays between your legs. Your skin feels hot and your brow furrows as you watch his smug grin widen along with the way your lips quiver and part.
“Steve, we shouldn’t. Not here
” you whisper, but he shakes his head with a chuckle.
“This is the best place for this, honey. Trust me.”
He uses his free hand to pass you your glass of champagne and you take it. When he nods you take a sip, letting the bubbles burst on your tongue just as Steve begins circling your clit with more pressure.
“Feel that? The altitude? The champagne? When you cum you’ll feel higher than the clouds we’re in, baby.”
You bite your lip to suppress the moan that wants to burst from your your throat. He’s right. You’re not sure if it’s the altitude or the alcohol or the fact that your new boyfriend is whisking you away on a trip or the fact that any flight attendant walking by could possibly hear you. But you feel electrified, dangling on the edge of an orgasm that is going to rocket you into outer space.
“Aw don’t hold out on me, honey, that’s no fair,” Steve pouts when he sees the way you are keeping yourself from letting go. “I don’t deny you anything, do I?”
He doesn’t. As is evidenced by the sparkling necklace swaying between your breasts and the gorgeous lace panties that he’s currently stretching and which is drenched with your slick.
“Steve. Oh Steve,” you whisper, making him beam at you.
“Feels good, I know. It’ll feel even better when you let go,” he coos his promise honey sweet, just like his nickname for you. “And when we get to the hotel, I’ll make you cum on my cock till the sun comes up. How about that?”
That’s the promise that does it. He knows what his cock does to you, feeling you clench around his fingers at the very thought before you’re spawning in his grasp, spilling champagne over yourself.
When you finally come down from the high, it’s to the feeling of Steve licking champagne off the tops of your breasts and the valley of your cleavage.
“So sweet, honey.”
“Thank you, Stevie,” you breathe. Just the same as you did when he gifted you the necklace and lingerie. He kisses his way up the column of your throat to bestow a lazy, lascivious kiss to your face waiting mouth.
“Welcome to the Mile High Club, babe,” he whispers against your lips. He leans back and smirks with a grunt when he feels your hand tentatively grip him through his pants. He’s rock hard, heavy and hot behind the luxe designer fabric.
“Oh. Want me to join you in the clouds, honey? Don’t mind if I do.”
~*~
Thanks for reading. Please comment and reblog to let me know what you think!!!
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your-local-simp-writers · 11 months ago
Text
Glitter and Memories
Word Count: 735
Warnings: None
Cater Diamond x Fem!Reader ïž¶ê’Šê’·â™Ąê’·ê’Šïž¶ïž¶ê’Šê’·â™Ąê’·ê’Šïž¶ïž¶ê’Šê’·â™Ąê’·ê’Šïž¶ïž¶ê’Šê’·â™Ąê’·ê’Šïž¶
Cater flashed his signature grin, his eyes twinkling with the same mischievous spark that had first drawn you in. “Today’s the day we let our creativity run wild,” he declared, spreading an array of art supplies across the table.
You couldn’t help but laugh at the enthusiasm he exuded. “And what exactly do we have planned, Diamond?”
With a flourish, he presented a scrapbook, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with memories. “We’re going to capture the magic of our everyday moments,” he said, “and maybe add a little twist.”
The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the glitter, glue, and colorful paper that surrounded you. Cater’s excitement was infectious, and soon you found yourself fully immersed in the project, cutting and pasting with more gusto than you’d ever thought possible.
As the scrapbook began to take shape, Cater paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know what this needs? A centerpiece that truly pops.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what might that be?”
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Cater reached under the table and pulled out a miniature volcano kit, complete with baking soda and vinegar. “Remember making these in school? Let’s recreate that magic.”
The next hour was a blur of laughter and creativity as you both constructed the volcano, decorating it with an extravagance that only Cater could inspire. And when it came time to make it erupt, you both held your breath, counting down before pouring the vinegar into the crater.
The reaction was immediate, a frothy explosion of glitter-infused lava that spilled over the sides, much to your delight. Cater’s laughter mingled with yours, the sound as bright and vibrant as the sparkling mess you’d created. As the glitter from the volcanic eruption settled, Cater turned to you with a playful challenge in his eyes. “I bet you can’t make a more extravagant page than I can,” he teased, his competitive streak shining through.
You accepted the challenge with a smile, knowing full well that Cater’s artistic skills were top-notch. “You’re on, Diamond. Prepare to be dazzled.”
The two of you dove into the task, each trying to outdo the other with elaborate designs and creative use of materials. Cater was a master of color, his pages a vibrant tapestry that told stories without words. You, on the other hand, had a knack for storytelling, your pages weaving narratives that brought smiles and occasional laughter.
As you both worked, your shoulders brushed, and every so often, Cater would lean over to plant a quick kiss on your cheek, leaving a faint smudge of glitter in his wake. “For good luck,” he’d say, though you both knew it was just an excuse to be close.
The hours slipped by, marked by the soft sound of scissors cutting paper and the occasional burst of laughter when one of you made a particularly bold artistic choice. “Look at this,” Cater said, holding up a page where he’d managed to create a 3D effect with layers of paper. “It’s like we could step right into the scene.”
You admired his work, genuinely impressed. “It’s amazing, Cater. But wait until you see what I’ve got planned for the next page.” You revealed your surprise—a series of photos from your first date, carefully arranged to tell the story of that magical night.
Cater’s eyes softened as he looked at the photos, and he reached out to trace the edge of one with a finger. “That was a good night,” he murmured, and you could hear the love in his voice.
“It was the start of something wonderful,” you agreed, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.
Eventually, the scrapbook was filled to the brim with memories, each page a testament to the bond you shared. Cater closed the book gently, his hand lingering on the cover. “This is more than just a book,” he said, looking up at you with earnest eyes. “It’s a piece of us.”
You nodded, feeling the truth of his words. “And we’ll keep adding to it, page by page, memory by memory.”
Cater pulled you into a hug, the kind that said everything without a single word. And in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of your creative endeavors, you knew that this was exactly where you were meant to be.
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madiomens · 1 year ago
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I would love to see a cute fluffy Halloween with reader and Noah. Go to the pumpkin patch, freeze together and keep each other warm, come home, carve pumpkins.. all of it đŸ„°
Hi!! Thank you for requesting <3
I had so much fun writing this. It's so cute :')
Halloween time
"I can't believe you talked me into this." Noah said as I styled his hair.
"Hush. You love me." I said, focusing intently on my work.
The pumpkin patch down the road was hosting their annual costume patch fest. Every year, they have people come down in their halloween costumes and walk around the pumpkin patch, along with the corn maze and hay ride. They have a petting zoo, hot chocolate, and the night ends with a costume contest.
I was currently spraying Noah's hair silver to top off our costumes as Danny Phantom and Sam, and as much as he's been complaining I know he's loving it. I perfectly spiked his short locs and sprayed them with the hair paint along with hairspray to ensure they stayed in place as long as we need them to. His hand kept sliding around to my ass, to which I kept smacking away so I didn't mess his hair up. After the tenth smack he decided to just pout and let me do whatever I needed to do.
"Ok!" I said, clapping and hopping off the counter I was sitting on so that I could properly reach his head. "My work here is done."
He looked at himself in the mirror and his mouth turned down with a head nod, signaling he did in fact enjoy this more than he admitted to.
"Not bad." He said, turning his head side to side.
"Good, let's get going. I don't want to miss the petting zoo." I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind me.
He followed my steps down the stairs and I grabbed my necessities before we headed out the door and to his car. It was a short drive to the pumpkin patch, and before I knew it I was petting a miniature cow in complete heaven. Noah laughed as he snapped pictures of me in my own little world, perfectly content if I was to stay with that cow all night.
He decided it was a beautiful idea to go into the corn maze and leave me alone, though. I spent the better part of 10 minutes trying to find him, giggling as I yelled "DANNY!" instead of Noah just to make his little game more fun. By the time I found him, he was a pile of laughter and my teeth were chattering as it got colder with the sun going down.
Costume is real cute, but not suitable for the cold.
We got hot chocolate before making our way around the pumpkin patch to figure out what pumpkins we would carve later. Noah decided on one that's incredibly too big but insisted it was perfect, and I decided on the actual perfect size for carving. He kept wrapping his arms around me and giving me kisses to try and warm me up as my body shook against him. Anytime he hugs me, it's like a warm blanket wrapping around me that provides me with instant comfort.
We made our way back to our house and I quickly started making some coffee to warm up while Noah cleaned the pumpkins off and set up our carving area outside. We made sure to take plenty of pictures before I decided to throw on one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. His hoodies always hang almost to my knees, making me look like a toddler but I will never stop stealing them.
Noah already decided on trying to carve an Attack On Titan pumpkin, which I have no clue how he plans on doing, and I was carving the cheshire cat. I sat between his legs as we carved them. I insisted that it was going to make him carving his impossible, but he proved me wrong with his slenderman arms. At some point, he gave up on his idea and just started freestyling a design. I finished mine and held it up, showing off my masterpiece but was met with silence.
I furrowed my brows and turned to look at him before I burst into laughter, instantly pulling my phone out to take a picture of him.
"What? You don't like it?" He questioned.
This man had just carved an entire open space of his pumpkin along with a hole in the bottom and had it on his head. The space framed his face so that all you could see was the center of his face, nothing else.
Laughter shook my body as I looked at him. He finally burst into his own laughter as the pumpkin slid down, effectively covering his eyes so he could no longer see. I pulled the pumpkin up on his head so I could see his eyes again, shaking my head at him.
"You're such a doof." I said through my laughter.
He grinned at me, smile sending butterflies into the pit of my stomach. "You love this doof."
I shook my head and leaned in kiss him, laughing against his lips.
"Forever and always."
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but-thats-its-own-story · 2 years ago
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This episode man...
This is a damn good Superman series.
I all but stood up and cheered when the House of Zod and his Full-Blown Space Armada was 30 seconds away from straight-up invading Earth but were apparently so in denial about Jor-El's warning that the fricking origin story blew them straight to hell.
I love how they finally name dropped General Sam Lane, implied that he was about to or just had a kid on Zero Day, and had Waller confirm that Clark reminds him of Lois, but still won't actually reveal it until next weeks episode about Fathers.
They were already hinting he subverts the 'heartless general' archetype before, but the way his resolve just breaks when he sees the tears streaming down Clark's face...
The attention to detail with the subtle confirmation that Waller didn't miss Livewire realizing she retained her powers without the suit...
And then Deathstroke gets his trademark eyepatch when she fries his eye out of its socket...
The Kaiju Parasite is a bit excessive, and in a lesser series it would be the season finale villain, but overall it's a pretty cool design, and this isn't over yet.
More attention to detail with the fact that Clark immediately healed when the sun oh-so-symbolically rose, and the emphasis on the dropped bag as a cue to notice Jimmy would pick it up- these people know what they're doing.
I find it interesting that (presumably) Zod is already in superhuman aspect, leading me to believe that he, and by extension Clark, were in fact intentionally engineered as living weapons rather than gaining powers inadvertently from the sun (and to reassert the part of my theory that Clark looks just like him, likely due to being some form of clone.) But it probably is actually Zod rather than a Dark Clark if he was an adult on Zero Day.
So we're just gonna have the most awkward family dinner in the world, where Lois has to explain that The General is actually her dad, Ma and Pa Kent finally make *another* onscreen appearance, Jimmy and Lois collectively freak the hell out over the Dark Clark reveal, and then Zod is just gonna burst through the wall battered from having spent twenty years flying here the long way...
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ennaku-sirri-da · 7 months ago
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Me Vs. Apolloneeun Beauty-- A comic PART 1
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[ ID: A fancomic revolving around a teenaged Dr.Habit from Smile For Me the game and Saint Sebastian, a Christian saint. The songs set to it are Hounds Of Love and Pretty Boy.
Panel 1: Against the backdrop of a glittery sun, the words " Me (a silly face is drawn) Vs. Apolloneeun Beauty" are written. Simple flowers are dotted around, and there's a border of hyacinths.
Panel 2: Habit bounces a beaten up volleyball, appearing content, even serene. Here he has a more muppet like appearance. He has many bandaged scars. He wears his hair in pigtails held up by smiley flower bobbles. He wears a PE uniform with the words and logo of Saint Name High, the PE logo is a ball with wings and a cross through it. He wears wrist and knee protectors. The background is full of colorful smudges of oil pastels, and there's a sunny appearance to the whole picture.
Panel 3: Habit holds the ball and looks startled by something that has caught his attention. His eyes go wide. Thorny vines are drawn behind him. Then, he gives his full attention to the thing, looking up with pleading, adoring eyes. The previous vines burst into thornless flowered vines. Real flowers are scattered across the page, and every page following this.
The lyrics to Hounds Of Love by Kate Bush are written:
it's in the trees
it's coming!
Panel 4: This scene is shown in a simplified style. Habit looks left and right to make sure no one is around. Red eyes are drawn to show this symbolically, as well as a searchlight. ' LOADING..." is written. A person backs away under his stern glare.
The lyrics to Hounds Of Love are written:
When I was a child, running in the night
Afraid of what might be
Hiding in the dark
Hiding in the street
Panel 5: The whole panel is motion blurred. Habit reaches out his hand towards the thing, holding the ball close to his chest. He grinds his teeth and blushes, appearing very nervous and shaking. A (real) heart shaped leaf with a drawn halo behind it is placed near him. On it is is written the lyrics to Pretty Boy by Poutyface:
Picturing you( the 'you' is encircled by a real golden ring) wearing white saying
Then the lyrics to Hounds Of Love:
The hounds of love are hunting
I've been a coward
And I don't know whats good for me
Oh, here I go
Panel 6: A person's finger is drawn through a real silver ring. It's all drawn on a real wedding card. The finger bleeds, the blood dripping through the red decorative square part of the card and pooling, blooming into a drawing of a red rose. The lyrics to Pretty Boy by Poutyface read: " I Do"
The lyrics to Hounds Of Love read:
It's coming for me through
the trees
Oh help me, someone
Help me, darling, please. End ID]
Notes under the cut!!!
Pre-story:
So I HC Habit as trans( AFAB, so he presents as a girl here) and he went to a Catholic school!( though he followed a different branch of Christianity at home ). This is Habit in his sports uniform, in highschool
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[ ID: Habit in his highschool sports uniform, as described in Panel 2. Here he has a more muppet like appearance. He has many bandaged scars. He wears his hair in pigtails held up by smiley flower bobbles. He wears a PE uniform with the words and logo of Saint Name High, the PE logo is a ball with wings and a cross through it. He wears wrist and knee protectors. His shoes are noted to be red and white. He looks happier. End ID]
He gets into sports because, like.
OK so I have these soft bras with hooks and designs that I really HATE. Get that away from me!!
So what if Habit has the same problem from his parents...He needs an excuse to wear sports bras atleast sometimes.
Yeah this is where it all really started XD
So I thought, damn....sports.
He probably lied on instinct that he plays chess and no one bought it. So he actually needs to join a game that requires those clothes. It all started with a bra literally.
And,,, well,,,
There's THIS GUY (he has a crush on)
As a protector from the bubonic plague, Sebastian was formerly one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. In Catholicism, Sebastian is the patron saint of archers, pin-makers, athletes (a modern association) and of a holy death.''
American author Richard A. Kaye wrote in 1996 that "Contemporary gay men have seen in Sebastian at once a stunning advertisement for homosexual desire (indeed, a homoerotic ideal), and a prototypical portrait of tortured closet case." Some religious images depicting Saint Sebastian have been adopted by the LGBT community. A combination of his strong, shirtless physique, the symbolism of the arrows penetrating his body, and the countenance of rapturous pain have intrigued artists (gay or otherwise) for centuries. Sebastian's resilience in the face of persecution juxtaposed with the erotic elements of his suffering resonates particularly with the spiritual queer community ''
It's from Wikipedia I thought this was super neat!!! ALSO
"Terminal babe" dying of having a beautiful pre-Raphaelite mouth HSJSJS There's a humorous list about his various twinky depictions somewhere!
They're SO right he is a terminal babe.
There's a picture of him in the grounds where Habit goes to play because Sebastian is the patron saint of athletes.
Panel 1:
Apollonian has a meaning
Related to the god Apollo ORRR
(lowercase) serene, calm, or well-balanced; poised and disciplined.
(lowercase) having the properties of or preferring classic beauty.
And Saint Sebastian has once been called an example of it.
Theee golden circle is refernce to that halo iconography you see in religious art
And the hyacinth..
Hyacinthus was a male lover of the Greek sun god Apollo
He died tragically either due to accident or jealousy ( different myths I guess) and Apollo made him into a flower( the Hyacinth) to honor him.
As for the "Versus" sign ...woah I don't remember this level in Street Fighter 🧐 /J
Panel 2:
Establishing shot for our hero!!
I thought making the volleyball shitty would make it more personable
Also whenever I look at this...my mind goes " Strong gentle sweet Habit"đŸ„ș
I used oil pastels!!
Panel 3:
I die looking at the blorbo face in the bottom LMFAO someone pat him
Also!! I picked flowers from my cousins garden to use all throughout
Kept them in a lunchbox and my sister told her friend I was saving them to eat for later😔
I will also bring to you attention that the smiley flower bobbles in his hair have been colored in nearly every panel! Aesthetic choice XD also I really just doodled and did whatever for the coloring. It's all vibes in here and less planning- GAY VIBES
The thorns/ flowers are him opening up i guess!!
Also damn I'm realising how tame this starts out and how wild it gets LMAO
But it's still just. A bunch of Teen Feelings; Kid looks at wall-anyway-
Panel 4:
Throwback to the GAMEEE folks remember this little FUCKER
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[ ID: A simplified version of Dr. Habit looking like it was crayon-drawn. He looks puppety. End ID]
He's just scouting the area in the panel, caught someone, situation defused
Or maybe he's figuring out where to spike the ball/J
Panel 5:
Here's where Pretty Boy starts( He saw the painting of St. Sebastian )( that's what caught his attention earlier )
I tried to make the onomatopoeia of him grinding his teeth! I think this is a really good panel in terms of emotion.
I thought I'd change the "Always been a coward" to " Been" more like, just his current state, because Habits usually more sure of himself I think?? But right now society and family and school is messing him up.
The gold ring is another " gold circle referencing divinity" -if you look you can see the ray-circle I tried to make with yellow markers and highlighter color lols
The heart is a real leaf and man I had like 4 dried leaves in my bag. Had to edit that one to bring out the red, they're red when they fall.
Speaking of my bag, it was damn near bursting with all the art supplies I packed for this in there, I looked like I was committing cousin house burglary
The bottom half is him "unravelling", alongwith the words which reflect that. And its all blurry and fast because NERVOUSE
Oh shit ALSO! The volleyball is a temporary metaphor for his heart
Panel 6:
The finger should be more slender but whatever!! It's clear later on whose it is but I'm telling ya now that's Seb bleeding...cus...arrows
And I got a great idea for doing that Blood>Box>Rose thing!
Heh heh, I was really just magpie-collecting things for my treasure, like the weeding card here. Also coincidentally I am reminded about how Habits actual BRO-RING from Kamal( in my AU, later in years) is silver LOL Vague symbolism really has me like😳
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bellafragolina · 1 year ago
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*bursts in through the sliding glass door*
My beautiful, darling strawberry~
Do you remember the gargoyle!Emmet thing you did around Halloween last year? For the monster + quote prompts?
Could I please request a continuation of that? đŸ˜©đŸ’•
~SparkđŸ’„
oh for sure!! here's the prompt, for those curious!
🍓🍓🍓
Emmet is new to being, well, alive again. Sure, he was aware of himself all those years, but thinking and actually moving are two different things. His body isn't the most flexible, made out of stone as it is, but he's so happy to be alive that a little stiffness doesn't seem to bother him.
Since living gargoyles aren't exactly a common sight in your city, Emmet sadly stays at home. Not that he has much of a choice, as you both discover, rather terrifyingly, that he crumbles easily when doused in sunlight. So until night falls, he stays within your home with the blinds drawn, eagerly awaiting you return.
"Darling!" Emmet cries, when the door opens. You giggle, arms open and ready for your lumbering lover's embrace. Emmet stumbles up to you, scooping you up into his arms to swing around, side to side. "You are home!"
"I am!" You sing, peppering his cold face in kisses.
Emmet beams at you, hurrying you back into the house to the dark abode that is your bedroom. He's created a sort of den ever since he moved in, a mess of blankets and pillows with snacks and drinks stashed between the layers. He says it's a natural instinct, but you suspect it's only so you'll never have to get up from your designated cuddle times for sustenance.
You're laid into the bed with careful precision. Emmet climbs in after you, limbs moving slow as he settles to not accidentally crush you in any way. He's cried over the bruises he's accidentally given you before, and refuses to entertain the chance again, if he can help it. Thus it takes a bit of time before he's finally settled down next to you, his wings a shield against the outside world.
Nothing but you and him remains.
"You are home." Emmet says again, his face content as you curl up into him. He's surprisingly warm, and you wonder if he's been stealing your heating pad to make himself such. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." You hum, sighing. "Wish you could come with me."
"Me too." Emmet nuzzles his nose into your hair. You asked him, once, about his senses. Touch, taste, smell, and the rest appear to be heavily muted, due to his being stone. His eyesight is the only keen thing about him, followed by his hearing. "Wish the sun wasn't. . . bad for me."
"We'll go out tonight." You soothe him, running your hands over his literally chiseled body. Whoever sculpted him did a good job. His features, while sharp, are incredibly handsome. And easy to kiss on, which is what you do. "We'll do something fun, yeah? Whatever you want."
Emmet trills. Your kisses are returned tenfold, to every piece of skin that Emmet can reach, while he rambles about this and that he's seen on the TV. His head is heavy against your chest, but it's a comforting weight. You stroke his hair, molded as it is, and bask in his love.
While not perfect, it's more than you could've ever ask for. Even if the whole "living gargoyle" part was unplanned.
🍓🍓🍓
i love gargoyle emmet so much thank you for requesting him again!! he's so excited to see the world and be with you!!! he's so happy <3
~Renee
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