#I love the way this sounds omg. this is like exactly the kind of stuff ive been listening to lately

[bobosbillionsknives]

hey i think u should listen to the song Brother by The Organ. its making me go insane thinking about knives and in my brain youre like The millions knives person. okay bye i love you

HOLLEYYY SHIIIT. THIS IS FIREEEE BRO FIIREEE !!!!! my brain is actually melting rn

THIS IS CRAZZAAYY I AM GOING CRAZYZAY. THIS IS SO GOOD . ADDED TO THE KNIVESCORE AND CO PLAYLIST ! ☝️🤓‼️

I am literally leaking with so much soy rn. Ty sm bro....I'm so honored to be your mindpalace Knivesite...

𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓼𝓯 💪💯🔥✨

[aceyalonso]

we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

yn.ln

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. ��Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[arminsumi]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMG ITS SOO GOOD !! 🤍🤍

i wanted to req doing a skincare routine w gojo, like asking him to lay down so you could do it. if that makes sense 😭😭

(i thought it would be so cutee !! pref a fem reader)

NIGHTS LIKE THESE

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru just enjoying getting pampered by his wife.

[ Note ] : ahhh u are so very kind 😖💗 i lovee the idea of skincare w gojo sm!! he deserves to be pampered like a royal puppy

He's all for it when you suggest doing a skincare routine on him. I mean, laying down and letting your soft hands work out the tension in his face with some nice smelling products? Yes, please. That's exactly what he needs on a Friday night after teaching martial arts to his students all day.

"What's this?" he asks for each product in your hands. He doesn't eye them out suspiciously, he just accepts whatever you're putting on his face.

He's in this love-ditzy state tonight... oh, maybe it's just the strong blossom scent flooding in through the windows putting him in that state.

"This is a face mask... I'll put it on, then peel it off in fifteen minutes..." you're murmuring slowly, voice soft as you focus on smearing the sparkly gelatinous liquid over the curve of his cheek."

"Mmm..." he hums in acknowledgement to what you said, eyes closing.

His hair is put out of the way by a pink makeup headband; it's the one he bought for you at the beginning of the year, that Sailor Moon one. It just has a crescent moon on the center.

Satoru wiggles his feet and rests his finger-locked hands on his stomach, relishing in the attention you're giving him.

There's a serene silence as you apply the face mask with carefulness — you're trying to make it that perfectly rounded mask.

"... you're so gentle." Satoru comments, smiling to himself. "It's nice... getting pampered by my pretty wife. I think this is the meaning of life." he says in a low rasp. You can hear how tired he is after teaching all day in the hot sun.

"What, the meaning of life is... getting a face mask put on you?" you chuckle.

"Being with you." he replies.

You soften your brows and look down at him with love. He's still got his eyes closed so he can't see your loving look. It's okay. He can feel your love radiating.

"Well aren't you sappy..." you tease. He smiles.

He knows he's sappy, but you like it, don't you? And he means it. His meaning of life is being with you.

"I'm done, by the way."

"OOH let me see."

He checks his reflection in his phone camera, and you know snaps a picture with you while he's at it. You complain that he's gotten your bad side, and that he has to take it again, but he's giggling like a mischievous kid.

You sigh and look at him. "Of course... of course you look good in a face mask."

"Uhhh yeah duh I look good in everything." he responds cockily, then adds, "... you look good in everything, too."

"Ah shut it!" you giggle, and the sound makes his heart lurch.

"Mmm, it's true." he leans in, giving you a lopsided kiss, "Thank you, baby. Anyways... this stuff smells so good... is it edible?"

"No, it's not. So don't eat it."

He eats a little to mess with you. Then scrunches his whole face at the chemical taste.

"Satoru why are you like this." you shake your head. "Anyways... I'll cut some cucumbers for your eyes." you say, turning to the tiny cutting board that you put on top of a pillow.

"Yay, cucumber time." he says like a five-year-old. "It's not bigger than mine, is it?" he eyes out the cucumber you're taking into your hands.

"Satoru!" you laugh scoldingly.

He lets you cut the cucumber in peace, not wanting to talk in case he distracts you. But the way he stares at you, with his fists tucked under his chin and that star-struck look in his eyes, he distracts you anyways, and you nearly slice your finger.

Satoru's a different kind of beautiful. That's apparent from the first time you meet him, but you realize it during times like this; when you're snuggled up in your dim-lit bedroom. The clear face mask glitters a bit, you can see it drying.

"Don't touch it. It's drying."

"Sorryyy."

You shake your head at him. Then you catch him trying to touch his face again.

"Ooh, I can feel the little stars in it."

"Satoru, let it dry. Lay back. I'm covering your eyes..."

"... ooh, kinky."

You sigh, he smiles — he's so happy that he can be an absolute idiot around you and yet you still love him. How'd an obnoxious idiot like him get a tender, loving woman like you? I guess, 'cause he's god's favorite, I mean... with the Six Eyes and Limitless bestowed on him, of course he'd be sent an earth angel too, just to protect his sanity. You're very much his sanctuary, the refuge he seeks when responsibility whips his back.

The soothing cucumber slices cover his eyes now.

Laying and letting you pamper him like this makes him feel so at peace, he's becomes drowsy, and soon falls asleep. Soft snores sound from him. He's so utterly soft and gentle while he sleeps, you wouldn't think he's the strongest.

You decide to not wake him, and just peel the face mask off him gently once the fifteen minutes passes.

He just sleeps like a baby while you finish the routine. A soft, radiant glow adorns his cheekbones. His chest rises and falls like a calm tide.

That's your husband; a hyper, sleep-deprived, overworked and overburdened man who lives for the nights you do these sweet things with him.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[clearnachopirate]

Terry and the batfam. Terry and the batfam. their dynamics have so much potential and i would LOVE to see it explored in any way at all

Terry and Dick: older brothers, trade stories of how they embarrass and get back at their younger brother(s), anger issue twins, "oh you were batman too??" "yeah, but its only bc one of my parents was murdered" "omg thats how i became robin no way"

Terry and Jason: the second most destructive duo, second only to terry and steph. not bc they fight or blow things up on patrol (thats tim and jasons thing) but bc anytime there a new gadget to try, terry will volunteer to use it, and jason will volunteer to 'spar' with terry to test it out. okay, maybe its bc they fight and blow stuff up, but its only ever in the batcave under supervision! "the tim from my dimension actually killed the joker" "no shit? did bruce stop me over there too?" "... about that--" sometimes they grab the others leather jacket by accident and both have given up on caring

Terry and Tim: terry "from the technological future" mcginnis and tim "designs loads of bat tech" drake talk shop, "my younger brother was made robin without my consent" club. tim listens to the works elcectro pop music ever and it just so happens to sound exactly like what they play at terrys favorite club. tim introduces him to (kon or bernard, take your pick) and they hit it off so well that they hang out without tim

Terry and Damian: ace the dog. terry invited damian to his AC island. both are bruce's bio kids and mamas boys. damian calling him "Terrance" and terry never recovering from it. terry knows damian from the future, kind of, and uses that knowledge to his advantage EVERY DAY

Terry and Duke: team "everyone thinks we're the normal one, they are wrong" they totally do movie marathons you cant tell me otherwise, their favorite thing to do is make bets abt the rest of the fam w cass. they never win against her. on any given day you can find them whispering about everyone else "duke, why the fuck were damian and tim staring each other down over breakfast" "hes mad dick said he can't poison him again" "what" "i know i thought they were over it by now"

Terry and Cass: cass sees him for the first time and sees that he rivals tim and dick in terms of being a mess and is determined to bond. terry hears about what she was trained for as a child and shrugs bc "i was supposed to be a second bruce, things change" cass will make him give her piggybacks when shes tired and terry has never dropped her

Terry and Stephanie: the most destructive duo. something happens to their braincells when they patrol together, buildings fall, bones break, civilians are crying, theres about ten minutes where everyone else thinks theyre both dead. they both are waiting at the cave for the others, terry is teching her how to make really shitty friendship bracelets (dana taught him, and stephanie is pretending she doesnt know how). they dont know why everyone else is so stressed "i texted you that we were fine, old man. steph and i just ran into black masks trafficing ring and took care of it-- why is dick crying?"

ALL of them have asked about the future before and the ONLY thing he ever reveals is out of context sayings and trends "yeah actually luigi and bowser have so much chemistry, well, i guess that movie isnt out yet huh" "???" (they think luigi and bowser are a cononical couple in the future and wonder where the world went so wrong) and (while interrogating smon) "watch out, you're not acting like the sigma you are, batman, try rizzing 'im up, then he'll talk."

him and bart meet (everyone tried to keep in from happening) and theyre from similar enough futures that when they talk, not a single person around them can follow it, they teach each other the different versions of different tik tok dances and terry goes back to the manor and teches them to steph, cass sees them do it once and has them memorized, duke thought it was funny, dick thought it was adorable (eventually they ALL know them, and it becomes an inside joke) tims prized possession is a video he got of damian doing the most dispassionate renegade the world has ever seen bc jon asked and he cant say no to him)

TL;DR:

terry mcginnis interacting w the other bat kids has a lot of potential for chaos and family bonding

[agaypanic]

They're open yay omg!! Ok I had a cute idea for Rodrick Heffley if you're up for it! :)

Rodrick x Male!Reader where reader sings him 'boyfriend' by Big Time Rush the same way that Rodrick sang 'baby' by Justin Bieber for that one girls birthday (I literally don't remember her name lol but also it doesn't have to be his birthday) but like, it doesn't end as badly as it did for him lmao

Idk if they should be an established relationship between him and reader or if this is like readers confession so ill let you choose what you feel like writing for!

Boyfriend (Rodrick Heffley X Male!Guitarist!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: While waiting for your friends to show up to band practice, you decide to show Rodrick a new song you’ve been working on.

A/N: this is my first time writing for rodrick so pls lmk how i did! au where reader wrote ‘boyfriend’ instead of btr (with a few tweaks). rodrick and reader are in the talking stage (i dont wanna say situationship but ig that works lol) but their friends dont know about it. the only instrument i know about is the violin so sorry if i get anything wrong. also i think doing singing in stories/fics is kinda weird/awkward but whatever lol

***

You always cherished the few minutes you had alone with Rodrick during band practice. Sure, you liked your other friends. But there was something about being able to watch Rodrick not put on the whole ‘bad boy rocker’ persona that he was used to wearing. Around you, he felt like he could wind down and not think as much.

Although, he didn’t think too much in the first place.

“I think we have a real shot at winning this talent show,” Rodrick said, drumming a beat on your thigh as he watched you tune your guitar. “We just need to practice more.”

“Well, I think we sound fine right now.”

“We don’t need to sound fine; we need to sound great!”

“Chill out, Roddy.” You said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a month away; we have plenty of time.”

“Don’t call me that.” Despite his words, the corner of Rodrick’s lip twitched up at the nickname. You were the only one who called him that. At first, he didn’t like it; it wasn’t a hardcore rocker name. But soon, he found himself getting giddy at the softness of it. “I guess you’re right, though.” 

Rodrick strummed his fingers across the strings of your guitar, laughing when you slapped his hand away.

“Work on anything new lately?” He asked, looking up at you from his hunched-over position. Along with being the guitarist, you were one of the main songwriters in Löded Diper, having many one-on-one writing sessions with Rodrick. That’s how the two of you grew closer, going from childhood friends playing on slides to somewhere between friends and something more, playing songs. Secret handshakes turned to lingering touches, and loud laughs turned to whispered jokes.

You were a bit hesitant to answer. You had been working on some new songs, but they didn’t exactly fit the Löded Diper brand. They were love songs, most, if not all, written with Rodrick in mind. 

“Kind of.” You finally say, picking at a frayed edge of your jeans. Rodrick perked up, always loving your new material.

“Yeah? Show me!”

“It’s not exactly like the stuff we play.” You argue, a bit anxious at the thought of Rodrick hearing what you had been toying with recently. “Besides, it’s not finished.”

Rodrick just shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

“Show me anyway.”

You hated how you could never say no to those eyes. You sighed and finally agreed, fiddling with your guitar while trying to remember the chords.

“No laughing.” You say.

“When do I ever laugh at you, Y/n?”

“All the time.” With that, you started playing. You gave Rodrick a nervous glance before clearing your throat and singing.

“Have you ever had the feeling you’re drawn to someone?

And there isn’t anything they could of said or done?

And everyday I see you on your own

And I can’t believe that you’re alone

But I overheard your friends and this is what they said”

Looking over at Rodrick, you saw him intently listening. Any other time, you’d be prideful of the fact that all his attention was on you. But right now, it made you wanna run. But you stayed planted in your seat and continued with the song.

“That you’re looking for a boyfriend

I see that, gimme time, you know I’m gonna be there

Don’t be scared to come put your trust in me

Can’t you see all I really want to be

Is your boyfriend

Can’t fight that

Knock me down you know I’m coming right back

I don’t care at all what you done before

All I really want is to be your

Boyfriend”

You let the last chord ring out before you set your guitar down and cleared your throat.

“So, yeah…” Rodrick kept staring at you. “That’s… the song.”

Rodrick scooted closer to you, and you lifted your head to face him eye-to-eye.

“Did you write that about me?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You bit your lip, watching how his hair fell from the movement.

“Depends.” You say, taking a deep breath. “Did you like it?”

Suddenly, Rodrick laughed. It made you stiffen, but you soon relaxed when he put a hand on the back of your neck.

“You’re so corny, dude.” He said before closing the gap between you. 

After the shock washed away, you gripped at his hair and ratty t-shirt, wanting to keep him close. You had come close to kissing Rodrick a few times, mainly while drunk at parties that you shouldn’t have been at or during writing sessions that eventually got interrupted by Rodrick’s younger brother Greg. But those close moments didn’t prepare you for how good the real thing felt.

When you parted, you rested your forehead on Rodrick’s as the two of you caught your breath. You opened your eyes and moved back a bit so you could see him clearly.

“So…” You start, not knowing what to do from here. “Are you looking for a boyfriend?”

“Sure.” Rodrick snorted before kissing you again.

[nomazee]

hihi!! i love ur writing sm and was wondering if u could do a chuuya x also mafia executive reader (similar to the dazai friends to lovers u did a bit ago) with the unestablished relationship but so obviously in love trope

thank u sm!!

i went so overboard omfg FORGIVE ME... i hope this is cohesive i kept working at it at like deep into the night so it's a little hazy omg but i loved this so much im such a sucker for this trope and chuuya and dazai are like the best characters for this kind of genre i feel

pairing: chuuya x gn reader word count: 2.8k content: fluff, hurt/comfort (an abundance of it), friends-to-lovers, mentions of sickness (vomiting, fever, etc), domestic fluff, sweet stuff, also hand-wavey teenage timeline because i didn't read all of stormbringer forgive me...

°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.

“They said they might promote me, did you hear?” 

Chuuya glances to the side at the sudden sound of your voice. You’re leaning over his shoulder from behind him, face mere inches from his as you grin widely. He has to fight the twitches of his own lips to stop himself from smiling back. “And who’s they, exactly?” 

“Oh, you know. The grapevine. Just some whispers in the organization. And Kouyou.” You lean back, the radiating warmth of your body suddenly escaping Chuuya. He walks behind you as you make your way down the hallway, a little jump in your step as you recount the news to him. 

“It’s what you get for working so hard. Guess it paid off.” 

“You think I’m hardworking! You’re a flatterer, Chuuya Nakahara.” 

“Sure am,” he quips back with amusement. Banter with you is different than with Dazai. With you, it’s lighthearted, and silly, and makes him feel like he’s fourteen and messing around with the Sheep again. With Dazai, it’s… charged, and fast-paced, and builds up a kind of aggravated energy within him that works well in fights but not in a room of Kouyou’s antiques. 

“But guess what,” you start again, looking over your shoulder where Chuuya follows close behind. Your pace slows down to let him catch up to you and walk side-by-side, now. “I think you’ve got a good chance, too. You’ve got some executive qualities, you know?” 

It makes Chuuya pause for a moment, because he hasn’t really thought about it before. After the mess that was the Sheep, he hadn’t considered taking up any kind of leadership or executive position in the Port Mafia. It wasn’t really his thing—too much work, too much responsibility. And as much as he loathed to admit it, it would probably mean even less time to spend with you and Dazai. Being mentored by different people already limited your time with each other. 

He tries not to think too hard about the implications of it—of you and Dazai working under Mori’s hands while Chuuya gets Kouyou’s firm, but gentler palms. A vague kind of sickness washes over him that he tries to shake off. 

“I don’t know about that. I think I do better in a quieter position, don't you think?” 

“Nothing is quiet about you. Especially not with that partner of yours,” you joke back. “I could put in a good word for you! Once I get promoted, I’ll have, like, a bunch of power and influence, and I’ll be all high and mighty, and you and me and Dazai can all take care of the Port Mafia and be all cool, and everything.” 

It’s a pipe dream. Both of you know that. Chuuya knows best about your hidden resentment of this organization and all that it stands for, all that it does. He’s heard whispers about your plans to take over—plans that would never come to fruition. Plans that were more like dreams and wishes and hopes. Something to get you through the day. The budding smile on his face falters when he turns and sees that distant look in your eyes. A sigh bubbles in his chest, but he holds it down. 

“Hey, slow down. You don’t even know if you’re getting the position or not.” His comment is met with a roll of your eyes and a chest-deep groan. You launch into a big speech about how qualified you are for the job, and all the different things you’d institute as a mafia executive (nap time, stress room with cats, petting zoo, iced tea dispensers), and Chuuya nods along and laughs for as long as he can.

===

You do, in fact, get promoted to an executive, but at the cost of a lot of things. Dazai leaves the mafia with no warning to you or Chuuya. You don't see him at all for two weeks leading up to his defection, and it all happens in a blur that leaves your head swimming with vertigo and your body much too frail to handle everything. 

Chuuya finds you sobbing in your en suite bathroom, kneeling on the floor and crying so hard that you’re dry heaving. He hasn’t seen you like this before. Even in your rare moments of vulnerability, it was never something so visceral and uncensored. He stands in the doorway, looking down at you, and freezes. His palms itch with the desire to do something, something that he hasn’t learned.

“You… Hey, hey,” Chuuya drops to the floor once he snaps out of his daze, crouching next to your curled up form as you shake with the force of your tears. He tentatively reaches out a hand, easing onto your shoulder. When you don’t give any sort of negative reaction, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for an embrace. 

It’s odd. This isn’t something that the three of you did. For all that you and him and Dazai kicked and pushed and shoved each other jokingly, this kind of touch is unfamiliar. It’s scalding in the way that sitting in front of a space heater in the dead of winter burns you.

He shushes you like a child because he’s not sure what else to say. He’s just as shaken by Dazai’s defection, but he knew that you and Dazai had become so close over the last few years. Being trained under Mori together does that. His chest squeezes at the sight of you like this, broken down and shivering and sick at the loss of your friend. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. Shhh, it’s— it’s okay.”

Chuuya smooths a hand over the top of your head, sliding down to rest between your shoulderblades. His mouth presses against your temple in a gentle kiss, feeling how cold and clammy your skin has gotten. He doesn’t know how to heal you. His hands are made to weigh people down and hurt and subdue, and he’s not sure if he can handle the gentler things like holding you and swathing you in blankets and cooking you soup. 

But, he thinks with a renewed determination. There’s no harm in trying. 

Three months later, you take Dazai’s executive position at the age of nineteen. Chuuya follows suit after another year and a half and becomes executive at twenty. You only think of Dazai when your head swims in gin and when you can’t feel the heat of Chuuya’s hands near you.

===

The both of you find yourselves in Chuuya’s apartment drinking the night away. At this point, you’re both twenty-one, and being in the mafia has offered you countless resources for alcohol and the like. A warm haze has blanketed you as you take another sip of whatever sweet fruity drink Chuuya has concocted for you. He drinks a glass of wine, because he’s weird and bougie, which you tell him straightforwardly. 

“Wine’s just an acquired taste,” he tells you.

“It’s glorified grape juice. It tastes like yeast.” 

“That’s… kind of what it is.” 

You laugh so hard that tears bead in your eyes and you hit him on the shoulder hard enough to bruise. It’s not even that funny, really, and he wasn’t even trying to make you laugh, but it’s so late into the night that you don’t even know what time it is and everything is funny when you’re this drunk.

“I’m hungry, Chuuya. I miss your soup,” you say, a whine in your voice as you throw your head back against the armrest of the couch. You’re stretched out on his velvet upholstered couch with your feet in his lap, and he’s been tracing circles against your bare shins while some documentary plays in the background on the TV. “You haven’t cooked for me in forever. I thought it was your duty as a househusband to cook every night, or something.” 

“Hey! I’m not anyone’s househusband,” he shouts in protest. When you push your head up from the armrest to glance at him, his tanned face is flushed a warm red and his brow is furrowed in playful indignation and you’re struck with the urge to bite him like a chew toy. Instead, you let out a soft kind of laugh and roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, you are. You’re my husband. Have been since the day I met you.” In a burst of newfound energy, you propel yourself up and off the couch, swinging your legs off his lap and standing up. “Let’s go make some soup. Your pantry’s probably stocked, right? Since you’re on top of all your housekeeping.” 

“Geez. You’re never letting that go, are you?” 

“Of course not! Come on. You have to teach me how to cook now.” 

Chuuya has reserved bone broth in his freezer, because of course he does. You submerge a container of it in hot water and wait for it to defrost while he helps you dice and saute vegetables in a pressure cooker. 

(“Don't pressure cookers, like, explode, or something?” 

“...who taught you that.”)

It’s a miracle you can even use a knife safely, because your head is still swimming a little bit and the line of empty bottles on the coffee table taunts you and your bad decisions. You also blame it for the way you stick close to Chuuya, bumping your hips together and leaning your head on his shoulder for a few fleeting moments until the pressure cooker starts hissing. 

He serves you a heaping bowl and when you tell him you’ll puke if you eat the whole thing, he pushes the bowl at you from across the counter and says, “I’ll guess I’ll just clean your puke for you too, then.” 

“Gross. You’re really a househusband if you’re brave enough to do that.” 

“Househusband this, househusband that. All I do is cook.” 

“And clean up the vomit of your lovely lovely spouse.” 

“Sure,” he says, and he turns back to you and puts his own bowl next to yours. Then, in a swift, undeterred motion, he reaches across the kitchen island, over both steaming bowls of soup and kisses you straight on the mouth. It shocks you right into lucidity, eyes blown wide and lips nearly parting at the sudden contact. Before you can really think about it, Chuuya pulls back, circling around the kitchen island to sit next to you with two spoons so you can both eat. “As long as that lovely lovely spouse is you.” 

You feel—light. Airy, sick, nauseous, more at peace than you have been in the last three years. A stupid smile starts forming on your face and you hide your giddy laughs into your soup. 

Chuuya would never act like this sober, you think, still cherishing the little moment you have. Thankfully, you’re proven wrong when he keeps doing it—walking you back to your apartment the next day, going out to a mafia-affiliated diner the next week, in an empty meeting room after everyone has left.

===

Another year passes. You find yourself in the throes of the cannibalism incident—not as a bystander, but as a victim. Because that’s just your luck, really. 

You don’t know how you were caught in the crossfire between Fyodor and Mori, but somehow you were infected with the cannibalism virus and bedridden for nearly three days, in-and-out of consciousness while you hoped and prayed that somebody would save you. For the entirety of the conflict, you were left alone in the PM infirmary, sweating off your perpetual fever and coughing up stomach bile into a metal garbage can. 

It was awful. There’s no blame to put on anyone, though. Everyone who was able to stand was on the front lines, so to speak, and from what you understood you weren’t as big of a target as Mori. Three days alone in a sterile bed was worth it for the survival of the organization.

At the end of it all, in the calm after the storm, sitting in your dorm, Chuuya visits you. 

You don’t look too great, still recovering physically and emotionally, but you can’t find it in you to care. The second you hear the familiar cadence of his knock and the shuffling of his stupid heeled boots, you rip the door open and are met with his wide-eyed expression. 

“Hey,” he says, and you burst into tears because god. It hasn’t hit you until now, seeing him in front of you, his warmth radiating from his hands as they reach out to hold you, but you could’ve died or he could’ve died and then what would’ve happened? Years and years of knowing each other, seeing each other at your worst, taking care of each other. Cooking in your kitchen and sleeping on his couch and kissing him like it meant nothing. It could’ve all been gone. 

The mafia isn’t a safe occupation to begin with, but this entire thing has made you realize how fleeting everything is. So you sob, and you let him hold you and bring you to the couch, and you let yourself be weak.

“Hey,” he says again, tone now placating, gloved hands resting on the back of your head and between your shoulder blades as he sits next to you on the couch. You have no regard for where your body is right now, legs sprawled out somewhere beneath you and arms reaching up to grab at Chuuya’s clothes in any way you can. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” 

You cough wetly into his shoulder, a whine forming from between your violent sobs. Your body shakes with the remnants of your sickness and the exhaustion of the week and a small voice in the back of your head tells you that it’s embarrassing, that it’s unbecoming of a mafia executive to be so affected. 

Death threats and poisonings and shootings—you deal with it every week. You choke out another whine of distress as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids in an attempt to quell the tears. It doesn’t work. You’re still weak, no matter how hard you hurt. 

“Shit, Chuuya,” you cough out a weak sob, shivers wracking your body as the weight of everything crashes onto you. “I was so sick. I was alone. I thought I would die. God.” You pull back from his hold to rub at your eyes with your raw palms.

“Stop that,” Chuuya says, with a gentleness you swear you haven’t heard in so long but in truth it’s been with you for the last two years. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Cold fingers wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. 

The white-hot heat of embarrassment scalds the back of your neck. You feel like a scolded child with the pitying look he gives you, and with your hands locked between his there’s no way to hide. 

“Stop,” you tell him, “quit it, Chuuya,” and you don’t know what you’re begging for, but it’s the lowest you’ve ever felt—a feared member of the mafia on their knees crying and asking for some kind of mercy. 

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he mumbles, and he pulls you just a bit closer with the grip he has on your hands. His chin rests on top of your head and you shove your face into the crook of his neck.

For once, he doesn’t smell like his gross luxury perfume. He smells like your laundry detergent and grass and the city and even more tears spill over your cheeks. Your fingers curl into his and you clench his knuckles until you feel them creak through the gloves. 

“I wouldn't let you die,” Chuuya’s voice is no more than a whisper, but it’s the most determined you’ve heard him sound. “I wouldn’t let it happen.” 

“I don’t need your protection,” and it’s a weak protest, and you’re grasping at straws to argue with him and push him away and make him stop before you make yourself sick with how hard you’re sobbing. You feel one hand slip from yours and slide up between your shoulderblades and start trailing along the nape of your neck, tracing circles in a lulling gesture. 

“I know you don't,” he says, “but I would really like it if you let me. Just once in a while. Let me cook you soup alone and wash your face and clean your hair. All that stupid stuff.”

You cough out a weak laugh. Your househusband shtick from a year ago comes back to you, and so do all the warm evenings spent together in the kitchen and the kisses left on his cheek and the ones left on yours. You feel the warm press of his mouth against your temple and let out your last weak sob before you hold him tight again, squeeze him hard against you to make sure he’s still there. And that’s where he’ll stay.

[thegamingcatmom]

you walk into Castle Dimitrescu with a fully functioning smart phone. What are you showing each sister? (songs, memes, etc.) 🤔

ASKJASKFAKSFKSA

I LOVE THAT ONE!! 😭❤️

classical music

pop music

I feel like she´d be a huge Ava Max fan

fanfictions

especially self/reader-inserts of any kind

but especially the ones about drama or mystery/thriller

memes of any kind

...instructions unclear - she doesn´t find em funny

at all

(help)

oh wait nvm-

I showed her Ebay and now we´re back to being besties

stock trading apps, sites etc.

I think that´s smt she could lose herself in, which means she´ll forget about me :D

...shit, stocks have dropped and now she´s mad

and blaming me for it

(help)

WAIT-

*shows her LinkedIn*

...she´s buzzing, literally

"Oh, this will increase productivity and flow immensely! I shall be the FIRST to show Mother!"

*buzzes off*

thank f-

*buzzes back*

fuck

"Mortal! Show me where to find the status of their purity!"

...

why do I feel like I have done smt terrible? :(

porn

fanfictions

especially lemons and those that play in the A/B/O universe

yall just know that shit would drive her crazy

heavy metal or rock music

"Master Of Puppets" (Metallica) anyone?

Temu

cause she loves it used and cheap

(yall understand I´m referring to her general preferences here, right?)

(therefore: jk, Temu✌️)

(...or am I?)

vids about blood and death

in hopes it will distract her enough to forget about my blood and death

the Dark Web

(I feel like this would become her 2nd home)

...shit, what have I done-

*quickly shows her some more porn*

whew

that immediately got her attention

crisis averted

YouTube Shorts

I reckon those quick vids are exactly her thing - girl isn´t just made of flies, she also has the attention span of one

Netflix

...

she´s just discovered Netflix and Chill

oh boy

some maids will get very (un)lucky indeed

fanfictions

especially those about "enemies to friends to lovers" OR "roommates to friends to lovers"

cute and funny dog videos (which will hopefully spare me from a rather gruesome fate)

cute and funny dog memes

cute and funny things to get for your dog

she strikes me as a dog person

Lady Gaga

her favs are "Bad Romance" and "Stupid Love"

Candy Crush

she´d get hooked on that one, I just know it

which means I get some time to get the f outta-

...

HOW DID SHE LOSE ALL HER LIVES ALREADY??? D:

TikTok

she can´t get enough of lip sync

...also because the poor thing has yet to realize that this isn´t their actual voice

"How do they do that?? That´s not what they sounded like before! *gasps* Can YOU do that??"

"...I-"

"DO THE VOICE!"

...

(help)

Amazon

...that was actually genius omg

she´s way too busy ordering useless stuff via Prime to remember she was about to off me :D

...nvm, her sisters are back

(help)

BONUS:

One thing I´d show ALL of them: Tumblr & Resident Lover

So they may witness the absolute depravity carried out in their names.

(Cass couldn´t be prouder of herself.)

.

.

.

Honestly? There´s probs SO much stuff you can do with/show on a phone that I´m not remembering rn. The possibilites in our time and age are pretty much endless. 💀

But also, given they (probs) have no idea an outside world even exists-

Just show em Google and they´ll be busy for quite a while, honestly. 🤷🏻‍♀️

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[ryuichirou]

Hmmm, any headcanons for twst boys in nebula college? Saw your drawing of Lilia in the Dragon house and it opened up a whole avenue of possibilities for me :3

Omg Anon!! Yeah, this is exactly what happened to us when I was drawing it, well not this exact sketch, but the one similar to that. The realisation that Nebula College is already thought out enough to have a crossover of sorts really hits hard lol So ironically, we did end up discussing which houses the twst characters would be in. And now you’ve given us the opportunity to share those thoughts, so thank you so much for your ask and for your interest <3

For those who don’t know: Nebula College is a project that Katsu writes (and I illustrate)! Katsu also wrote a post about the cast of Nebula College in NRC a couple of months ago, so it’s only fair to link it in this post >:3 Also, here is the description of all the houses and what they represent.

Riddle – the Dragon house; it’s debatable whether Riddle’s love for discipline and rules is something that is natural to him and not just his trauma lol but he would fit perfectly there: “organised, yet impulsive and loud” sounds like the most Riddle thing ever. He would be great at patrolling the school, plus he is technically a sporty boy.

Ace – the Snake house; the other option was the Unicorn house, and he would really prefer the latter because he would be super excited to be surrounded by rich and dazzling senpais spoiling him for being such an adorable charmer. The boy can dream all he wants, but he is destined to be a Snake because of his slyness and opportunism.

Deuce – the Dragon house, and he would probably be so honored. He would always do his best during the patrols… And also think about how being surrounded by reliable and organised people should be a good influence on him.

Trey – the Snake house; Katsu made two notes about him: the first one “asshole/knave I mean snake”, and the second one is “he’s a boa snake wearing glasses”. I think it describes Trey perfectly: he really is like a large calm and collected boa (the image of a boa snake in glasses is related to some of the cartoons we used to watch as kids lol), but at the same time the man is a liar and a hypocrite, he would fit right in with those fake bitches lol Even though he would probably consider himself a Dragon.

Cater – the Snake house; he is similar to Ace in a way, and I can picture him trying to befriend some of the Unicorns and maybe even succeeding at that, but ultimately he is kind of a poser. He is very good at communicating, but he is even better at knowing things about other people.

Leona – the Unicorn house; he is a prince, so it’s kind of a given. Falena probably graduated from this house as well, so Leona thinks that him being there is kind of a joke; it’s obvious that they people compare them all the time… but hey, at least the Unicorn colours look good on him.

Ruggie – the Snake house, this one is easy lol He also probably hangs out close to the Unicorns (this isn’t how Snakes usually act, it’s just the NRC Snakes are fucking leeches I guess), but that’s because he runs errands for Leona, to whom it’s much easier to talk to Ruggie than to fellow Unicorns.

Jack – the Dragon house; he would probably have a good time there surrounded by those who aren’t just as sporty as him, but also as responsible and earnest. Damn, Deuce would be his dormmate instead of Ace’s 😳

The Octa-Trio are from the Snake house;  there are some meta reasons for that, but also it’s just pretty obvious come on look at these lying bitches lol They are everything a Snake should be: smart, cunning, sociable when necessary, great at making connections and getting information, they’re also good at business and stuff. Azul would probably advocate for connecting with other dorms more though, and Jade would be intrigued by others too. Floyd probably doesn’t really care which dorm he is in, but don’t get fooled: he is one terrifying and dangerous snake…

Kalim – the Unicorn house! Nothing to add here, he is just there. People think he is a good-for-nothing princely type, but he is actually surprisingly good at communication. He is probably well-liked by everyone there.

Jamil – the Snake house, at least until Kalim enrolls and somehow Jamil gets transferred to the Unicorn house for some reason. He would hate it though because he really felt at home surrounded by Snakes, and now… now he is surrounded by Kalim-adjacent people who are amused by the fact that Kalim managed to get his servant to live at his dorm….

Vil – the Unicorn house; he has very strong charisma and amazing leadership skills, he is also charming and stubborn at the same time. He probably wasn’t necessarily expecting to end up there, but he fits in perfectly. But he is kind of a Dragon at heart when it comes to discipline and stuff… similarly to how there are some similarities between Pomefiore and Savanaclaw.

Rook – the Dragon house; his demeanor is a bit off, but honestly Rook could pull off being at every single House successfully, and his demeanor would always be off lol Now this is someone who loves patrolling. When it’s his shift, some students probably make a mistake of assuming that if they can’t see the patrolling guy then he isn’t there. But Rook is always watching…

Epel – I’ll quote Katsu on that one: “Epel is an idiot. The Dragon house, his dream came true” lol He shouldn’t get too happy about getting into the sportiest and “manliest” of dorms though because they are super serious about discipline, and no one is going to allow him to look like a hooligan. Brush your hair, Epel.

Idia – the Raven house- WOW, IS THIS OUR FIRST RAVEN? DANG so much for Night Raven College lol but yeah, Idia is definitely a Raven, and this is the only dorm he would survive in: he’s introverted, but very knowledgeable, perceptive and honestly surprisingly good at reading people for someone who hides from them all the time.

Ortho – the Unicorn house; he probably wanted to join Idia just so they could be together, but he is such an obvious charismatic leader when he wants to be. Considering that this is likely human!Ortho, he would also work as a kid from the Shroud family... Idia and him could be a great example of the Unicorn + Raven alliance.

Lilia – the Dragon house; there are some meta-reasons for that as well, but even without that, Lilia is very organisation-oriented, and he would be very comfortable in a structure that is the Dragon house. He is a great leader, but a different kind of leader, a war general, if you will.

Sebek – the Dragon house; pretty self-explanatory, look at this boy.

Silver – the Dragon house, but a Unicorn at heart. Sometimes it feels like he is in the wrong place, but it’s absolutely not because of how he acts: he does everything he is supposed to very diligently and tries very hard to be an honorable Dragon student. It’s just that if he stands near the Unicorns it just feels… right somehow.

Malleus – technically he should be in the Unicorn house, but he we couldn’t decide: he is kind of a mix of Unicorns and Ravens lol He has a lot of charisma and he is a good leader when he needs to be, and he sure as hell knows how to persuade people, but the overall vibes and architecture of the Raven house + their attitude is very close to him…

[thequietkid-moonie]

Hey, if it seems like a good thing to write about once you feel like writting the requests, what about a few Hermes headcanons about him with a humam reader on ancient times who was famous for playing Lyre? It could be platonic if you want, i guess writting that many romantic ones gets a litle tiring sometimes

Reader is famous for playing the Lyre

[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Hermes ]

[ Records of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no Valkyrie ]

OMG anon, the lyre is sooo beatiful, although I prefer the harp, still is so beautiful!!! Anon your request is beatiful 💙

You are right, as much I love writing the romantic stuff is good to take a break of it

Hermes could be pretty curious so he doesn't decline any oppotunity to meet someone new, doesn't matter if is human or god, don't even if he just know about them or meet them directly, besides who is he to decline a gossip when it cross his path?

Just hearing the rumor of a human that play the lyre in a beautiful way already make him curious, but the rumors doesn't stop, in fact just increase, about you playing with such elegancy that make everyone around feel fuzzy, even going as far as comparing your skills to those of an angel, making increase his curiosity. Although, he knows how humans can be easy to impress so he waits a while before really searching for you, if the rumors actually reached the gods then his curiosity will be just bigger since catching the god's attention isn't exactly easy (or not at least do it in a positive way)

Disguised himself as a human he made his way to search for you, he won't have much troubles introducing himself as the god he is, that will even give him an advantage, but it could cause commotion and just will complicate his search

For the instrument you play and for how humans are so carried away for stereotypes or in what a gender should do a what not he will be expecting to meet a beatiful and delicate lady, although he won't mind at all if you aren't like that, it actually just make it more interesting

The first times he goes to hear you play he only mixes between people and goes away when he feel satisfaced, but as the times go by he start to feel more curiosity for who you are, he know all the rumors about you, but non of them talk about you as a person just about the famous musician

So, one day he decide to approach to you and he does it with being so polite and kind that even if you are shy it won't be much troubles for you to keep the conversation, first of all he compliment you for being so amaizing at playing the lyre, those rumors aren't lying after all. Little by litte start to ask more about you, he knows that he first has to win your trust, but if you are more bold and since the start treat him as a friend is fine for him

He wants to know more about you, and as the time pass and the more you two spend time together he just start considering you a friends too, he doesn't mind it much that you are a human and if you never discover that he is a god it won't be a trouble for him either, he just want to continue being with you (besides it would make him umconfortable if he is worshiped for the person he consider his friend)

Hermes really likes hearing you play the lyre and he tries to always be there to hear you play and compliments your skills at the end, he may or may not spread the rumors more and even make it sound even better (if you point it out he will play innocent)

He is interested in the songs you play as well and will ask you were you learned them and if they have an special meaning, also if you want he can teach you some songs he know and going as far as compose a special song just for you to play (but he won't say that to you or admit it if you ask him, he just smiles as an answer)

Also he will love to have the opportunity to play music with you, he knows to play the violin so he always ask you if you would grant him the honor to play some music with you, if you decline is not really a problem because he will insist until you give up, besides he has his own charming ways to convice you

Hermes is really good at reading people so if you try to keep a facade that match with the instrument you play or are nervous to just be yourself he will point it out one day, and he will be really direct with it just because he wants to mess with you, however if you are just yourself since the start he will start to loosen up soon

With time he will end up trusting you a lot so it reach the point where he could tell you a lot of things about the place where the gods live and even some things about the gods just gossiping with his friend, he isn't afraid of getting into troubles nor to befriend a human, even if they find out that he is reveling secrets about them he is smart enough to get away with it

[i-am-a-living-god]

Would you...Share the plot of a story/fic/comic you don't think you'll get to but would like the world to know about?

Ok I didn't answer this at first because I didn't think I had an answer. But now I remember that I do!

So about a year ago me and two other people came up with this au that we named evil Splinter au, (very creative I know.) E.S AU for short.

So the premise is exactly what it sounds like. It's a 2012 au, but because the three of us have an unexplained burning hatred for 2012 Splinter, so we made him evil.

So the deal is, Splinter hates kids, and he's racist, against mutants. One problem, he has mutant kids. So naturally, he decides to MURDER ALL OF HIS TURTLE SONS. Bear with me, he gets attached to the idea of having only one son. so he decided to find the strongest, and weed out the weak.

So when the turtles were young (about 4 years old) he thought that Donnie was the strongest, cause he's tall. But when they got older, Splinter realized that tall does not make you strong. He realized this cause Donnie started getting into medicine, which is for losers. So he stopped loving him, and found a new favorite: Leo.

So Leo ran into the kraang when he was a lil guy, and got experimented on or something. He waddled back to the lair, (because they're basically invulnerable, cause if they died we wouldn't have a plot.) Splinter recognized this as strength, and appointed him as him new favorite. Basically, Splinter tries to get his favorite to help him kill the others.

Omg he's so pathetic lol, he needs the help of a literal child to kill other children, which he still fails to do somehow???😭

So Leo kind of is rewired by the kraang to follow orders for them, but they failed to keep him and he immediately escaped. (Plot armor, don't question it!) Because of this, his eyes shift between pink and blue, blue means he's mostly in control, and pink means the kraang-washing is in control.

Donnie ditches and makes friends with April and Casey, and they get into a relationship. He tries to find a way to fix Leo, and save his brothers or something. He doesn't like Mikey cause he's "suspicious" and Donnie thinks he's totally secretly working for Splinter.

Mikey is just totally freaked out, and also ditchs, and befriends leatherhead, and other mutants. He gets a bit paranoid and starts putting little bits of different Poison's in his brothers food, to build an immunity. It works I guess.

Raph has no idea that Splinter is trying to kill them and just thinks that Splinter is giving them some hardcore training, where you even need to be alert while you sleep!

Leo knows exactly what's going on, and tries his best to find loopholes in Splinters commands, and always manges to understand usually the opposite of what Splinter tells him. (I want you to know that this concept started when we were talking about how splinter is cryptic af, and Leo always seems to understand the opposite in the show.) Leo will also often take killing blows for his brothers, that's how they are still alive. Since Splinter doesn't want to kill Leo, he will often stop the swing before it lands of halfway through so Leo doesn't die. Leo basically uses his own body as a shield.

Anyway that's it mostly, we all made a bit of art, and one-shots for this au that never got posted cause it's a shared au, it would be awkward.

Umm I'm literally writing this at 1am, yes I'm aware that this all sounds ridiculous, especially how I'm writing it. But I do like this au, cringe for the winnn!!! There is more lore shit that I can't remember. And a lot of the stuff that we wrote about it was good (not mine though, that was shit.)

So yeah, heres our shitty au. Ta-da!

Oh yeah I forgot to tag @writing-biting who was one of the people who helped make the au lol.

[just-a-carrot]

Hi, previously the Orlam x Genzou poster here, I just wanted to apologise for making you uncomfortable with my ask. I wasn’t trying to romanticise it at all, moreso appreciate the intricacies of their dynamic in that time frame and I’m sorry if it came off as me romanticising that kind of relationship(which I myself am usually quite uncomfortable and frustrated with when people do). Just to clear another thing up, perhaps using the phrase ship was a mismatched choice in hindsight. I really don’t think there was much love there at all, dependency, if anything. Perhaps slight feelings from Orlam, whatever they might’ve been(likely a trauma bond but hey I don’t want to force MY interpretation onto characters YOU wrote, omg thats actually so embarrassing 😭)

But yeah, I just wanted to clear up some things I feel like were misunderstood(much to my fault due to choice of wording), and apologise for making you uncomfortable 🙏

You don’t have to respond to this at all if you don’t want to, I completely understand. I just wanted to personally do what I mentioned above. But you can respond if you wish, too

ahhhh... LOL i should apologize myself as i probably came across stronger than i meant. i actually didn't think any of that about your ask in particular, it just prompted me to kinda go into a spiel about some of my overarching feelings on the matter. but please don't worry your ask itself didn't make me uncomfortable!! tbh i mostly understood exactly what you said here from your ask and how you worded it, which is also why i said like that i do agree with it that i do enjoy their dynamic myself. maybe it is the word itself too like i don't like thinking of them as a "ship" because in my mind "ship" implies some level of romanticism and that the person sees them as like some kind of "end game" (perhaps this is incorrect tho). i perhaps prefer thinking of them as a "situationship" 🤣 where their dynamic fascinates me (and pains me) but i don't prefer to think about them romantically, if such a thing exists

also just like adding on but like........ i knew going into creating stuff that once it's out in the world ppl are going to take things and run with them whether i agree with them or not. and i'm completely fine with that! it's just like with the NSFW stuff. i don't care at all if people want to create such things, i only ask that you leave me out of it as i'd prefer not to engage with it (seeing my chars like that would make me a bit uncomfortable). it's the same here, like /gen if people want to roll with them be my guest but on an official level if the work feels like it's romanticizing them in any way then i likely will not engage and i'd prefer to keep such works out of official stuff about the game since it makes me a bit uncomfortable

so please don't worry! your ask was fine and honestly sounds very similar to my own feelings hahaha

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

SONAMY ongoing evolution

I've been playing Sonic frontiers and I watched Sonic prime and I read the IDW comics... Omg where's do I start???

Sonic frontiers is just a work of art in general, but the sonamy inside is just beautifully portrayed, I can say that Ian Flynn totally ships them 😌😌. I'm just so utterly happy how things had changed even if it took so many years

Sonic changed a lot his perception of Amy! 🥲🥲🥲 Also the detail of the umbrella line, remember that sonic was created in Japan, say fellow anime fans what does usually means when two characters share an umbrella? What does it mean when students in Japan draw an umbrella in the blackboard with two names written under it? It is clear that Ian Flynn totally knows the meaning and the MUSIC! Seriously those scenarios with Amy and that music felt like it came right out of a shojo anime😖😖😖💗💗

But also the feels... THE FUCKING FEELS!! The way Amy is kind of too calm with her situation but Sonic is just so worried and you could tell how worried he was even if he tried to play it cool... His expressions girl... Look at him with his cute ears dropped 🥲🥲🥲 Guys this game fed us good stuff... We shippers finally got what we had always wanted.

Next topic: Sonic Prime.

So I'm a bit conflicted, cause i only liked one of Amy's different designs and that was Thorn Rose, I'm obsessed with her hair but dude Rusty Rose? That could have been better... Also why Rusty Rose and not Metal Rose? Cyborg Rose? Badnik Rose? Mecha Rose? Robot Rose? Rusty sounds a bit degrading... It is because she was made like that by the Egg council? Pff also her robot appearance is just so ugly! What with that eye? But I love the dark concept and I love her SASS 🤣🤣🤣🤣Anyway my problem with Rusty Amy and Sonic is that it feels like the situation is not treated nearly as serious as Nine situation and boy ok you are a hurt loner with bully victim issues but Amy is basically dead, like there's no flesh or organs in her, she literally has a Birdy as a source of life and what is the outcome of that? Is there another outcome different from Gamma's fate in sonic adventure? Because the second Amy gets back her emotions she will want to release the bird... But more importantly... I can't wait to see Shadow react to her... This is the girl that reminded him of Maria, i really shouldn't but I really have high expectations for what kind of interaction will they have, we really need to see Shadow and Amy interact more let's be honest. As for the other Roses, there's no much to say about Black Rose but with Thorn we got good stuff too:

But I have to say one thing... Ok I know Amy is a strong power character but... It's a bit ridiculous that she could fight off characters like Rouge and Knuckles THAT EASY is just...🙃🙃🙃 Well i loved the part when he tries to reason with her all like: you liked me... A bit? Remember? And she is just so irritated and done with him already 🤣🤣🤣 but then... We also got this:

Actually touch her cheek you COWARD!!😤😤 Also when he was about to smash her and but stopped because he has a flashback of his Amy 😭😭😭, it's curious that Thorn Rose seems to be more impactful in Sonic than Rusty Rose which is ok but is odd plot speaking, after all Rusty is the one in the worst condition and is the one hunting him down, I'll just wait for next season and see what happens

And last but not the least I Shall say something about THIS!!

This illustration hit me right in the kokoro, date with hands holding and Sakura petals... is pure shojo manga energy!! I'm so blessed 😭😭💗💗

And of course the important reminder that Amy is a POWER CHARACTER and that's why she and knuckles make a good POWER SIBLINGS team as I stated in their own post about them... And dear Silver fucking gave her a COLOSSAL hammer 😂😂😂do not mess with the pink hedgehog buddy, and of course Sonic knows exactly how awesome she is as it should be, seriously she is really getting better and better, i really hope we'll see her in the next movie

[liquorisce]

Ris!!!!! I've been catching up on the priest au thirst and i thought of eren from priest au and a drunk clingy mikasa stumbling into his office part of him would find it cute how she was clinging onto the point he couldn't even move giggling and asking him silly little questions like 'would you love me if i was a worm' with the cutest pout on her face her trying to kiss him and stuff but I also feel like he would get jealous cause no one except him alone gets to corrupt his sweet mikasa but he let it go for that night cause he has to take care of his baby but little does she know what he has planned for her the next day

omg drunk mikasa is so sweet. giddy after one glass too many of leftover homemade wine from a donation drive, cheeks warm and pink, a toothy grin on her face. it makes eren realise she doesn’t smile as much as she deserves, and it brings a pang of regret in his chest. if he hadn’t brought her to this town, if he hadn’t ever met her, would her life have turned out differently? would she have smiled more?

in his office, she’s on her knees because he’s asked her to be. or rather he’d only said it once, a small slip of tongue and honesty, when he’d admitted: you look nice like that, pretty on your knees. if he’d been looser lipped he would’ve also said: … with your small mouth wet and pink like a little kitten. but he hadn’t, and she hadn’t known just how depraved it really got inside his dark place, so he kept coming back, kept kneeling by his side, kept saying ‘father’ in that soft, raspy voice of hers that haunted him at night. today she is less restrained, and rests her cheek on his thigh, right above her knee, more intimate than he ever allows, more affectionate than she thinks she is probably allowed to be with her priest.

“i didn’t know you had to do so much paperwork as a priest.” her voice sounds dreamy, the slightest slur around the edge. eren suppresses the urge to pinch her cheek. “what exactly did you think a priest had to do,” he asks, a fond smile on his lips.

she lets out a long hum. “i don’t know. help people. talk to them. tell them how to be good. teach them how to be loved by god. look pretty in your priest dress, i guess.”

eren’s pen stills, ink blotting against paper. his throat suddenly feels dry. licking his lower lip, he says slowly. “everyone is loved by ymir, mikasa. you know that.” and then, as if the words are too heavy to speak, almost stumbling, he asks, “so you think i’m pretty?”

she giggles, sounding so beautifully childish, for a second he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “father eren is the prettiest priest, in his pretty priest dress. all the girls think so.” the edges of her voice turn bitter, and it hangs in the air until she covers her mouth with her hand with a little slap, suddenly realising what she’s saying. she turns to look at him with puppy eyes and wine flushed cheeks. “but they must have told you already, haven’t they? all the things they think about you. i’m not the only one.”

he wonders then what goes on in her little head. if she thinks he talks to other girls the way he does to her, if she thinks people confess things the way she does to him. if he “teaches” them how to repent in the way he does to her. even though he is barely touching her know, it makes him feel full to the brim with guilt and something worse: a cagey, fledgling beast made of anger that wonders why she has so easily accepted that he has any kind of relationship with others, a calm knowledge that if she had even a hint of anything with anyone else he would destroy it, a sick urge to hold her face in one hand and taste her wine-slick tongue. maybe he could chastise her for drinking too much, stroke her cheek softly and tell her that if there really was a god out there, there’s no way she wouldn’t love her. how could anyone not love her. on most days he feels utterly defeated by the impossibility of it.

“think only of yourself, mikasa,” he says, hating himself for it as soon as he says it. he could’ve said anything— that there really is nobody else, no one talks to him the way she does, nobody trusts him the way she does, even if they did, he wouldn’t abuse their trust the way he does to her. “ultimately, there are no secrets between you and god. everything that goes on in here...,” he taps a finger on her head and strokes it down to her cheek, fighting desperately not to bend down and kiss her. (he could do it, he thinks. she might not even remember. why suddenly is her inebriation a moral cock blocker when his position of power never managed to have that same effect?) his voice feels hoarse as she looks up at him, chin tilting upwards in the sweetest gesture of obedience. no one has ever touched her like this, he thinks. not in the innocent way it might have seemed just now, and definitely not in the terrible ways he has touched her when he made her confess every brief fantasy she might have entertained, only to enact something ten times more depraved. it makes him feel like a bad man, but at the same time, this is probably the closest to god he has ever felt in his life.

eren has drifted off into thoughts filled with guilt and longing but mikasa is still looking at him with reverence, hanging on to his unfinished sentence like it is something holy. her eyes are cloudy grey and not as transparent as he would like. he likes it better when she is sober, when her thoughts are not the slightest bit fuzzy, but full of him and tinged with shame- shame for the desire she feels for him. he lets the edge of his index finger brush against her lip, lets himself bend and whisper over the shell of her ear. "everything little thought you have is ultimately naked in front of ymir."

@annluvazzel you have resurrected the brainrot!!

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires- Part 8

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1000

Masterlist

I waited a while to ask you on a second date. I did that on purpose. For one, I knew you were busy and I didn't want you to have to say no to me. But also, I was busy myself. A new Stephen King book came out last week, and Mooney's has been a never ending parade of idiots who don't even read, but want to own the newest King, anyway.

It's three weeks later. We're in the back of a cab.

You're nervous, which is understandable.

I kept a book to the side, just for you. I was going to give it to you when we met up earlier, but then I realized you'd have to carry it around all day, so I decided to give it to you later.

We never ended up walking through New York together. We got too distracted just talking to each other. So when I texted you last weekend, my plan was to ask you to go on a walk with me. I had it all planned out. I know which routes you've walked, mostly, and was pretty confident I’d come up with a route you'd never think to follow on your own. But before I could bring up this plan, you said:

YOU: i kinda have a work thing soon

YOU: we're allowed +1s tho

YOU: wanna come?

ME: …Well, what kind of work thing?

A music festival, is what kind of thing. Apparently, your boss is one of the main sponsors.

Festivals aren't your kind of crowd, and you don't want to go, and I think you're regretting inviting me along.

It's not even your kind of music, this festival. It's not Guns ‘n Roses or Muse or Prince, which is what you put on at the café when the crowd finally started to thin. You smiled at me meekly and told me you're a poser - “I kind of only know Purple Rain, I'm that kind of Prince fan” - and I told you I consider Prince to be one of the great poets of our generation.

“Prince was born in 1958,” you'd said to me. I was surprised you knew that. “I wouldn't say he's ‘of our generation’.”

A poser wouldn't know that, (Y/n). You give yourself far too little credit.

Anyway, the music at this festival is mostly new pop, which I hate and which I know you hate. You're fiddling with your beanie (not black this time but mustard yellow) like it's your armor and you're wearing black jeans and a red knitted top (no bra, I can tell, and you want me to notice this) and red converse. Your nails are painted black, but the polish is already chipped because you keep picking at it.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I hate that this is happening on a Sunday,” you tell me. “Like, hello? We all have to work tomorrow.”

I nod.

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll be more fun, later,” you say. “I'm just not great with this stuff. I don't exactly go out to parties or anything.”

Which is the truth. I know this about you. You spend your weekends at home, reading or watching Netflix. Last night, you stayed up until three am and watched the old Planet of the Apes movies on your laptop. I could hear the sound from across the street, because you had your windows all the way open again.

“Was going to this thing mandatory?” I ask.

“I guess not, but I'm still sort of new and I feel bad saying no.”

“That's understandable.”

“Are you into festivals?”

“Not at all.”

“We don't have to stay very late, if we don't want to.”

NADIA: Omg good luck 😭

You take out your phone. You're texting someone and laughing and I don't like it, but then you lean over to show me and it's just Nadia. She's sent you a photo of a T-shirt that says ‘Sorry, I'm overstimulated’. I love that you are involving me.

You answer back: me and joe have to survive loud music today wish us luck

I like Nadia. She doesn't even hesitate to reply to your English message in English, because she knows I'm reading along.

“She seems like a good friend,” I say.

“Best friend in the world,” you answer. “We basically grew up together.”

“How does that work? Isn't she from Belgium?”

A pause. You're trying to remember if you told me that. You haven't, but I don't say anything and eventually you come to the conclusion that you must have.

“So, we lived in a border town,” you explain to me. “When we were kids, she lived on the Belgian side and I lived on the Dutch side, but we also lived on the same street.”

“Huh,” is all I say.

“Yeah.”

You shoot off another text and then you put your phone away. You turn your body to me to show me I have your full attention, and you take my hand.

I could kiss you right now. You'd let me.

“My coworkers can be a bit much,” you say.

“Understood.”

“They're all very opinionated. Especially when they've been drinking. It's best to just agree with them.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say.

You fiddle with your hat again. I put my hand on top of yours to stop you, then fiddle with your hat for you.

“You look great,” I say.

You're flattered. You're blushing.

“Thank you. So do you.”

I'm wearing jeans and a white shirt, and an old belt I got from a thrift shop. Nothing special. Yet you really mean it. You put your hand on my arm and you look at me and it's not just that I could kiss you. I want to. I really do. I want to say fuck this festival and take you home and watch old movies with you and fuck you until you forget your name.

The cab stops. We're here.

“Here goes nothing,” you say.

[reedfulton]

hii!! I was wondering if we can get some of your charlie/fulton hcs, or just about them in general. I saw on your fulton rarepairs post that they were one of your pairs and i’d love to hear more on what you have to say about them (bc you didn’t get to in the post) bc I really love them and their paring.

omg absolutely!! sorry, i've totally abandoned tumblr because of school commitments and stuff so i hope this ask isn't too old lmao. but anyway, here are some of my hcs for them!! they're one of my favorite pairs ever and i'm honestly very surprised that more people don't ship them.

i've always said that i think they're childhood friends. i think i posted something about it a long time ago and then proceeded to not elaborate on it, but i always thought that fulton's home life wasn't great and so he was kind of allowed (or forced) to wander minneapolis/stillwater just to get out of the house. i did the math at one point and realized that the diner that casey works at is kind of in-between the heart of minneapolis and stillwater, so it wouldn't be insane to think that fulton might have ended up at the diner a lot as a kid. i think he and casey became 'friends' first (casey practically adopted him) and then when casey brought charlie to the diner because she didn't have anyone to watch him, they became fast friends

their friendship started off so well because fulton was extremely shy and charlie could talk to a brick wall and make good conversation, so charlie didn't really expect anything from fulton and fulton has no problem sitting and listening and retaining information from stories and stuff. that's kind of how their relationship works too lmao. charlie's always talking about random things and his wikipedia deep dives and hockey stats and fulton will definitely talk back if he has something to say, but sometimes charlie just needs a sounding board and fulton is more than happy to be that for him (and charlie is very impressed with all the random stuff fulton remembers just because charlie's the one that told him)

fulton's had a crush on charlie since they were in peewees. i don't think they were still super close when fulton joined the ducks, but they definitely still spoke to each other in class and stuff, and fulton joining sparked their friendship (and fulton's feelings for charlie) again. it's a super cute puppy-love kind of crush, and fulton has absolutely no clue how to deal with it lol. it's also definitely why fulton was watching the D5 games before he ever joined the team, and why he was so ready to fight the hawks the second he had the opportunity.

they definitely have one of those relationships where most people can't even tell if they're best friends or dating. they don't really do PDA (other than charlie laying on him like a cat, which he also does with a lot of people), and 'dude' is their main term of endearment in public lol.

casey LOVES fulton so much it's insane. charlie jokes that when they come home for breaks, she's more excited to see fulton than she is to see him and hes right

fulton's the little spoon but he'd kill anyone that ever found out

charlie is exactly 3 inches taller than fulton and it pisses fulton off to NO END. charlie knows this and definitely teases him about it.

i think once charlie bulks up a bit (probably like junior/senior year) they get to a point where they can wear each other's clothes and then just. never stop. at this point they don't even know who's clothes originally belonged to who anymore.

their first kiss happens after a game where charlie got injured and fulton felt so bad that he couldn't do anything about it that he's fussing over charlie in the locker room afterwards and bumbling his way through apologizes and charlie just. kisses him to shut him up as a funny haha joke but then realizes how fulton reacted to it and is like "oh shit this is actually A Thing"

fulton fell first charlie fell harder

they don't do PDA but they're all over each other the second they're alone. both of them have definitely made the other one irish goodbye at multiple events just so they can go home and make out and cuddle

sorry if these make ZERO sense i definitely was Not writing these at work :D. but i love talking about them so thank you so much for this ask! if you have any other prompts or ideas for them or anything do not hesitate to reach out, now that my semester is over and i'm just working full-time i totally have extra time and want to be more active on here :]