#I still have a bit of cough but doing much better to draw this

[ryuusea]

sherliam always full of surprises….

based on text post

[gtgbabie0]

{Wilderness!Nat caring for you when you get sick}

I love her sm I’m so not normal about her <3

Winter was brutal, more than anyone could have anticipated— more than anyone was ready for. The dense greenery of the forest had become suffocated by a thick layer of snow, leaving nothing to hunt. It brought an emptiness that was eerily quiet save for the wind that carried an icy bite to it, as it whistles through the air, it felt almost taunting the way it whispers.

Or maybe you were just going insane, it felt like it— Tassia said it was just a fever that’ll pass within a few days but then those few days turned into weeks and you still felt like you were on deaths door— the hunger certainly wasn’t helping and the fact you struggled to keep down the little bits of food you did have was just the cherry ontop of the rotten cake.

All you could do was curl up by the fireplace, trying to soak up the warmth of the flames— although they seemed miles away, providing little warmth. Natalie watches you, brows furrowed with concern as she tucks the bear pelt around your trembling shoulders in hopes that the fur might just keep the cold from seeping into your achy bones.

“Sshh— shhh, you’re okay.” She hadn’t left your side since the first raspy coughing fit that had seized you up left you crying in her arms. Now she watches over you as you sleep, sitting crossed legged beside you on the floor— brushing her rough knuckles along your clammy cheek as you shiver. “You’re gonna be fine, baby.” The words are mostly to herself, she downright refuses to loose you to a fucking cold.

The orangey flames of the fireplace bring colour back to your sickly face— the usual grimace that curls over your lips was replaced by a much more relaxed expression, cheek smushed against the pillows as you snore away and for a moment she could almost trick herself into believing that you were feeling better— not currently fighting for your life.

“Nat?” The weak croak in your voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she’s immediately turning all her attention to you— hand cupping your cheek gently.

“Yeah, I’m here— m’right here—” her words are slightly frantic, replacing that usual ‘don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude. “You need water?— extra blanket?”

You couldn’t help but smile up at her— it was weak, barely ghosting over your chapped lips but it was there and it made Natalie’s heart leap. “Yeah, water would be nice.” You only ask so she doesn’t feel so useless just sitting around and watching you get worse.

Slowly, you push yourself to sit up against the wall— a cushion stuffed behind your back as you watch her pour some water into a small cup— they needed to try and boil some more, the supply was beginning to run out. But right now that was the very least of Natalie’s concerns.

She shuffles to kneel beside you, helping you take a few slow sips of water— fingers curled around the base of the cup. “Can you try and eat something, please?”

Her words instantly draw out a croaky groan, that horrid grimace curdling over your face and finding a home on lips once again. “It’s pointless. I’d just bring it back up.”

“You have to try— it’ll help.” And you know she’s no longer asking.

You cave, not having the energy to fight her on it despite how much your stomach shrinks on itself at the thought of eating the shitty slices of bear meat in some watery-soupy concoction Mari stirs up— even with the hunger your fever had found a way to completely destroyed your appetite.

But for the sake of your girlfriend’s sanity you’d try, even letting her spoon feed you tiny mouthfuls— trying to fight that sickly feeling that creeps up your throat and instead focusing on how the fireplace eases that ache in your muscles if only a little.

“You did good— just try n’keep it down, yeah?” She offers you a supportive smile, her hand rubbing slow circles over your back as you nod, humming in agreement. “I can handle a snotty nose just not your vomit, s’fuckin gross.”

Her words draw a scoff from your lips, amused, glancing over to her with a smirk— “Mhm, thanks babe.” You deadpan, watching as she shuffles to sit behind you, legs resting either side of your body, motioning for you to lay back against her.

“I shouldn’t— I could be all contagious n'stuff.” You sniffle, meeting her eyes from behind your shoulder with a sad-half smile, “I don’t wanna give you what I got.”

“I don’t care. Just c’mere silly.” It’s not an offer because her hands are tugging you backwards until you’re lying back against her chest, head tucked beneath her chin. “I’ll keep you warm.” She seals the promise with a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped tightly around you in a protective embrace. Natalie clings onto you like she's terrified you'll disappear, or succumb to this sickness, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't absolutely petrified of the idea.

[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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[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! episode five : white lies & understanding . . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Dual pov . .

Your face drained of colour, sitting frozen in place as his words repeat in your head like a broken record, "I just don't believe you can act", the words said so casually with a drunken slur, as if he didn't just put down your entire skillset and career all together. Your hands grip the glass tighter, as some form of bitter resentment washes over you—momentarily, but enough to burn—your throat hurts as you let the words of complaint and the slur of insults that you really, really—wanted to hurl die there. 

The discomfort settled into a deafening form of silence among the table—and to think the two of you were getting along moments prior, sharing and recommending drinks . . ‘Way to kill the vibe, Schoenheit.’ 

The two of you didn't speak, seemingly waiting for the other to speak first, weighing down whether talking after that was . . the good idea? . .  There was still some time to cancel the contract right? (There wasn't) . . . the fine wouldn't be that high! (1 million give or take, out of your pocket).

The silence draws on, until Vil takes the hint, letting out a soft—well softer response, "I don't mean to offend you, I'm a little bias that's all", he said, his words no longer having a slight slur to them, the tension must've sobered him up. 

You paused, . . and let out a sigh, then smiled, "You're not good at apologizing, I hope you know that", you pointed out after a while, bringing the glass back to your lips, letting the alcohol burn your throat, melting the anxious bob down back to your stomach, your liver can deal with the problems later. 

Vil blinked, and let out a breath of relief, which he quickly tried covering up with a fake cough, . .  and you're supposedly the bad actor?, "It's not one of my biggest talents", he replied after a while, the words came out slower than expected as he stared down at the table, not quite meeting your eyes, "but I do apologize, it won't happen again." 

"It better not", you said casually, then laughed at his wide-eyed expression, "It's fine, I didn't like you in the camping series either, so I guess we're even?", you say, trying to cheer him up a bit . .  okay maybe you wanted him to feel a little offended as well . . 

“I was a child!”, he retorted back, and you bit back a smile, “Not an excuse Mr. Schoenheit, the ‘great’ actor”, his lips curled upwards just a bit, this time he didn’t really make an attempt to hide it, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you both were a little petty in your own right. 

After a while, the two of you were getting back into the rhythm of conversation, talking about some things here and there, and some casual word of the mouth gossip, because you both have an NDA and that shit isn’t getting out anytime soon . .  All the while consuming a little too much alcohol for a small brunch meeting, and you knew you were going to regret it when you got home. 

“Did you know I’m camera shy?”, you said randomly, and Vil looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, holy shit don’t make eye contact, you focus on the wall behind him, and he doesn’t really notice, “Really?” 

You nod, “Yea, terrible, I used to get nauseous every time I was behind a Camera, even for just photos”, he tilts his head slightly in confusion, because yeah, that doesn’t make sense, an A-list actor, whose income is from acting, being camera shy, “Did you get over it? . . because . . “, he gestures to the air, referring to your career, you chuckle and nod, “mhm.”  

“Yea, someone special to me said to start recording little videos for Magiciam, to get over it, so I did . .  just to step out of my comfortzone.” 

“Did it help?” 

“Not even in the slightest.” 

He blinks, and then the two of you chuckle, a drunken slightly slurred laugh. 

“I personally loved being behind the Camera, I felt . . alive every time”, Vil says in response after a while, “Yeah I can tell” . . . “What is that supposed to mean?” 

You avoid the subject, and he eyes you curiously, almost waiting for an answer. 

The evening sun lighting was hitting you in a little too perfect position, you both were seated by a large window, but it hit you at a perfect angle, it’s like those shitty films about the ex dead wife, and the wife is always depicted in that yellow lighting which made her look ethereal? Like nostalgic . .  That being said, you do look pretty . . ethereal . .  and fuck look away. 

Vil faces the other side, as casually as he could muster. 

Which wasn’t casual at all, because he was too tipsy to play it off cool and collected, “You okay?”, you ask, and he grips his fork . . and yea you guys ordered food sometime ago, “Yep”, he says, with a grin, “totally fine.” 

You nod, then a comfortable silence falls over the two of you . . . and suddenly things felt so peaceful, calming almost. 

And maybe this partnership wouldn’t gut him out and make him go mental in the next few months. 

Maybe. 

Okay so now he’s just doubting his own words.

Making eye contact with a drunk Vil sounds like torture im ngl, his eyes are very hot, violet baddies for the win.

This is actually a soft launch into my new smau (Cater diamond x Reader), the first few pictures hint at it, so check out "For the record" if you like this series <3 , they're interconnected.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

Do consider buying my emergency commissions, if you can <3

[nymphaea-blue]

Rafayel with artist!reader

Info : 1k+ word count, fluff, slight mentions of Rafayels lore.

Notes : We all heard of "matching his freak" but what about "matching his artistic spirit"?? Aka this is for all my girlies interested in art, I did this because I know he would help me survive my design class 😔

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who would show you his work enthusiastically and explain everything about it to you after you said you “don't know much about art”. You loved listening to his explanations, even after he shared the most basic stuff with you and from that alone, you swore your art got better.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who started to suspect that you might be more talented than you told him after he took you to a pottery studio for a date and you ended up painting such a cute doodle of artsy birb on one of the cups, yet you just laughed him off and said doodles aren't that hard to do.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who one day, finally spotted some of your drawings in your apartment when he was visiting. You didn't hide your work well enough and he spotted one of the projects you did for school on your desk, so now you had to explain yourself.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who listened in slight disbelief as you nervously explained to him that you didn't want him to think that you were just with him because he's an artist, a famous artist, at that. You truly loved him and his art was something you loved, yes, but never wanted to exploit his abilities, so you played dumb when it came to art so he wouldn't think you were using him.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who then laughed at you for thinking such silly things, he loved you and frankly, it was a bit endearing that you thought so much about him and that you didn't want to worry him, but he was also never worried about someone using him for his art abilities in the first place, because he could feel the love you have for him (cough cough, because of the bond, which made his life a lot easier when it came to your moods).

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who after that, often helped you with your art, especially when projects and homework piled up and you needed some extra hands or motivation to finish them. He would be there, either drawing alongside you or sometimes helping you finish a project or two when you really needed help. You told him that he didn't need to do all that but he just brushed off your concerns : “Why wouldn't I help when I have the ability and the time to do so? Besides, it's better than working on another commission Thomas is nagging me to finish.”

  It was a nice, sunny day. Rafayels studio was quite warm, but none of you cared about it since the sunlight proved to be the perfect light source for your paintings. Ever since your lovely, artistic boyfriend found out about your love for art, he was insistent on having art dates and seeing your abilities in person. Were you nervous about showing your work to a world class artist? Yes, but he was also your boyfriend, and he would never judge you. “You know, you are staring a lot. Do I have paint on my face, hm cutie?” Rafayel teased you slightly as he caught your eyes wandering to his face yet again instead of the still life the two of you were supposed to paint. You blushed slightly at his words, but you opted to hide your face more behind your canvas instead of trying to win over him when it came to teasing. He was right after all, but you saw the way his eyes looked at you ever so often as well. “... You are no better, I would say.” You said as you continued your work, you looked at the composition in front of you, before eventually looking back at your canvas and continuing to work. “I'm finished with my work, so I can pay attention to something more interesting now.” “Huh, already?!” You questioned, panicking slightly since you weren't really even halfway done yet, only base colours done and some basic shading. “Nah I'm just making fun of you. Don't worry, I'm not done either, buuutt I'm sure you can show me your progress now, righttt?” You stared at your canvas for a moment, you weren't really painting the composition the two of you agreed upon, you were painting Rafayel. How could you not when he sat right across from you and he looked so focused on his work? You saw Rafayel working many times before but it felt different now for some reason and you wanted to capture that handsome face of his.  “Only if you show me yours as well.” “Sure, I have nothing to hide.” He shrugged and presented you his work as you showed him what you did as well. He painted you. The painting was beautiful, of course, even when it wasn't finished. The signature light colours of his swirled perfectly to create you, looking at the composition, with your face and eyes illuminated by sunlight. It looked ethereal, even though the two of you started almost two hours ago only. “... It seems we both had the same idea.” You laughed slightly, it was surprising that the two of you had the same idea at the same time, but you found it charming nonetheless.  “Well, great minds think alike, am I right?”

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who never judged your art, only praised it. He often gave you advice or friendly critique, but only when you asked, and he never touched your work by himself. He was extremely supportive of your abilities and all the paintings or sketches he got from you were proudly showcased on his wall.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who gave you art supplies. Lots of them, all high quality or hand made. You told him many times that he doesn't need to but he says that you deserve the same equipment as him. Also, suddenly there is another easel in his studio in a nice separate corner yet close to his work space as well, he didn't say specifically that they are for you, but he encourages you to come to his studio when you want to paint.

﹒　⁺ Rafayel who overall is absolutely ecstatic about having a partner that also loves art, he thinks it's so wonderful that he can do the thing he loves most with the most important person in his life.

[adams-angels]

reader and sick adam idk yay

This is perfect because both me and my partner are sick atm and unfortunately for him I'm a total baby when I'm sick. I wrote this one slightly differently?

Also it's a bit short, sorry.. 🧡

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Poor baby

Big baby

Like the biggest baby when he's sick. I'm not kidding.

The slight tickle of a cough and he's at home in bed snuggled up.

Will text lute he's dying again

Won't do anything for himself. Not like he ever did anyway. But now he's extra bad.

"sex will is the best medicine" queue coughing fit.

Extra needy

EXTRA NEEEY

Extra need means extra cuddly too

Also grosser than usual

Will show you his snotty tissue telling you how gross it is while you try not to throw up

Will want to be touching you constantly

If he's not in a position to be cuddling into your chest he will want to hold your hand

Even though he's ill he'll still talk nonstop

Will talk himself to sleep

Loves being babied but will never admit it

"Poor, baby. Poooooor, baby Adam." You coo'ed with a smile, bringing the man some soup. "Shut up..." Adam groans pulling the duvet over his head. You were both sick. In fact, you were sick before him but no, his is much worse. 'Man flu' and all that.

"Oh, don't be like that my love." You pulled the duvet off his face. It was really the only times you'd see him without a mask on. You brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead, he whimpered at your touch. "Poor boy." He scowled, "man. Poor man." Correcting you. "First man." Muttering to himself. You can't help but chuckle.

"Come on. I brought you soup." You place the bowl on his night table. He looks over to the bowl and whines. "Feed meeee." "Seriously, Adam?" "I'm not weeellll..." "I'm not well either you know? You know what you did when I was ill? Got me to suck you off." "But it's meant to heeelllpppp." You stare at him unamused. "Please, y/n?" He knew you'd say yes if he said your name. He'd always call you "babe", "sweet tits", "Adam's Apple" so he'd say your name when he really wanted something. You roll you're eyes. Not really at him. More at yourself for giving in so easily.

You pick the bowl back up and sigh, "fine. Sit up." He did as he told, but if course with small whimpers and whines because in his words "his body is extra sensitive right now." You stirr the soup before bringing the spoon to his mouth. "You're such a baby." You smile softly at him.

Once he's fed his sighs in satisfaction. You blow your nose because, again, you also have this cold. "baaaabe.." you looks over at him in the bed, tucked in, looking all cozy. "Where are you going? Come to bed." You can help but smile and crawl into bed next to him. It takes seconds before Adams arms are wrapped around you, pulling himself into your chest. His wing covering your body as he purred in comfort. "You know, Lute says that you need to take better care of me." "Oh? Really? Because Lute told me that I baby you." He removed his face from your chest, "what?!" His voice cracking. "You- I - she did not!" He burrows himself back into your chest, wrapping his arms around you, tightly holding you in place. You could hear a very muffled "shut up."

You run your fingers through his hair with a smile.

"Poor, baby."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[strawberrymochin]

Weakling ♪

╰┈➤ ❝ use your pretty mouth ❞

Genre- smut

Synopsis- sukuna fucks you among the dead corpses of your crew members.

Word count- 2.4k

𐙚 Warnings 𐙚 -: minors do not interact | oral (male receiving) | semi public sex | unprotected sex | creampies | blood | degradation | sukuna calling reader slut | slight use of cursed energy |

Blood splattered on your face as a strike of cursed energy made the head of your last crew member to fall off his body. It rolled over, leaking blood, halting up to you till its infront of your legs, as you stare in horror.

The still headless body of your friend collapsed onto the vast floor, joining the other corpses of innocent humans. And now it's your turn.

You look up to sukuna, to see him grinning at you, wickedly. In one blink, he sprang upto your position, making the same gesture he did to kill the others. You back off dodging his attack. You're the last one alive, and maybe not for much long, your last hope is the help coming for you from the jujutsu high, till then you need to keep him engaged, letting him toy with your life.

"Aww, the mortal got swift moves huh! I'm impressed. Honestly I never thought you weakling would survive this long." He mocks attacking you once again.

"I still impressed you though." You reply, dodging off his punch, which was deprived of any cursed energy. Sukuna threw one, two and three attacks consequently till one of his kicks strike you hard on your stomach, causing you to lapse till your back hit the cold wall of the tunnel.

You cough out blood as sukuna laughs. "So tell me, pretty weakling, how shall I kill you?" He raises your chin up, using his index finger, to make you look into his eyes. "Shall I slash your body parts?" He says, "or shall I take your heart out?"

"Don't you have any better option?" You spit out, not taking your eyes off him. You really shouldn't provoke him, now that he regained most of his power. Time doesn't seem to slip away, and you have no clue how long it will take for the rescue team to show up.

At this point you're not even sure if any help from even any special grade sorcerer would stop him, and you're just a semi grade 1 sorcerer. Practically nothing infront of him. Still your pride forces you to forget your position, deciding to rile him up. If you have to die in sukuna's hands anyway, you would rather die pissing him off.

"You sure have a big mouth.....why not put it to good use?" His index trailed down from your chin to your throat, adding other fingers to grip your throat, strangling you.

"Good u-se...l-ike what? Suck your dick?" You manage to voice out, as your hands try to loosen his grip.

Sukuna stilled for a while, his grip on your throat loosened a bit, for you to fill enough oxygen in your lungs which he drew out.

The thick metallic smell of blood lingered in the air. Even in the dim lighting of the tunnel, sukuna's shadow engulfed your entire body. The king of curses is only a step away killing you, then why isn't he acting upon it? Why is he staring at you like that?

His eyes fixated at you, narrowing a bit as a devious smile crawls his lips. "You impressed me once again," he said, "now get down on your knees and suck it." His hands travelled to your nape, thumb drawing circles behind your ear.

For moments you do nothing but stare at him. Then your knees sinked down, obeying him, without breaking the eye contact. You wanted to keep him engaged, and there seemed to be no other option than this.

Your hands brushed on his clothed groin, almost gaping at the bulge you feel in there. Sukuna grinned wider, at your response, his hands are now gripping your messy braid. You unzip his pants, pulling it down slowly as his huge hard length pops out. As huge as his dick is, it is adorned with two stripes of tattoos just like his entire body.

He's already leaking precum, for a moment you are unsure how to fit such a huge thing in your mouth. Sukuna parted his lips to say something, but stopped midway, sucking in a breath, when you put your fingers around it, and start stroking and massaging his shaft.

You could practically feel his dick grow even more, as his tip swells red with more precum. Your feel his veins throbbing at your touch. A ghost smile spreads through your lips, it would be a total lie to say you weren't aroused at the sight of his huge cock calling for you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as blood buzzed in your ears.

"Use your pretty mouth, weakling," he grunts, "fast." You nodded obediently, kissing the tip lightly, then using your tongue to give it a few licks, tasting his precum. A few moments ago, you were there fighting for your life against him, now you are gladly licking his cock, about to give him a blowjob.

"Mhmmh....." He groaned, shoving his cock, into your mouth lacking patience. "Suck it," he rasped, "put your mouth to good use"

You found yourself in daze, your mind couldn't focus on anything, suddenly you don't remember why you even agreed to do this. But it felt good. Heat coiled up in the lower pit of your stomach as your tongue swirled around his cock, tracing the veins that throbbed in pleasure, as you bob your head up and down trying to take in as much length as you could, finding a rhythm. How would it feel to have this cock filling you up?

One hand of yours played with his balls, while the other holds his thighs for support. You look up, sucking in and out, rolling your tongue over his shaft, not forgetting the tip. Sukuna is looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust, lips parted, breathing heavily, tilting his head back at the sudden sensation of you sucking on the tip, bucking up his hips, causing you to gag. You were about to pull away, but he shoved your head deeper till you reach his full length.

Sukuna, never in his mortal or immortal life experienced this desire, desire to destroy you, corrupt you, fuck your pretty mouth till you beg him for mercy. Your warm mouth wrapped around his cock, made him go nuts. When you kissed his tip, licking it like a popsicle, swirling your tongue around his shaft, he felt like you're sucking his soul.

"Hahh....Aaah....uugh" he grunted, fucking your mouth, as you tear up, drooling, choking on his huge cock. Sukuna increases his pace, drawing out oxygen from you. "Mngh-ph....nmh.." you cried out, sensing his cock twitching in your mouth. His ragged breath and rough thrusts told you he's on the verge of reaching his orgasm.

"Aaghh....hahh...mnph....such a good girl....mhmm, want me to cum in your mouth? Hahh?" He pulled on your braid making you look up into his eyes. You nodded.

You looked so pretty with those messy hairs coming off your braid, tears staining your face dampening the dried blood flakes, lipstick smugged off whose stains linger around his cock. Sukuna's breath hitched at this sight, edging him hard. His cock twitched, as he jolted in pleasure, eyes rolling as he cums in your mouth.

You pull away, swallowing his load as much as you could.

Sukuna bends to your level, face flushed, hint of satisfaction on his it. "So tell me, shall I kill you now?"

You take in a ragged breath before answering him, "do what you please, but fuck me before that." You say, coughing a bit, wiping the mixture of his cum and your drool from dripping down your chin. Even if you're dying today there's ain't no way you're dying horny like that.

One second.

It takes one second for sukuna to grab your wrists and pin them over your head, holding them down with only one of his hand. He looked very much of a predator hunting for his prey, totally hovering over you.

His dark eyes scanned your face and then slowly it travelled down to your neck, then to your collarbone, and then to your chest.

"As you wish" sukuna's velvet voice, rang around your ears, getting you even more drenched as his other hand comes up in the air, pointing at you, making a gesture with his finger.

The cold sensation of cursed energy quivered through your body. For a moment you couldn't understand what happened right now. He used his cursed energy on you but somehow you were still alive.

He draws you out of your thoughts, nibbling on your skin, almost drawing out blood. You wince, as his teeth sink deeper, the taste of your blood drived him crazy,as his hand grope your breasts, kneading them. "Mhmn....sukuna" you mewled, he draws his nails over your hardened nipples, playing with them, sending jolts of sensitivity.

Your eyes widened as it striked you. He used cleave to rip off your clothes, which now pooled beside you in pieces. The only piece of fabric still left on your body was your panties.

You arch your back in pleasure, a needy moan escaping your lips, as sukuna takes one of your nipple in his mouth, licking it and then sucking in roughly. He repeats the same actions for the other nipple, freeing your hands as he kicks off his pants which were pooling around his legs, grinding his cock on your lower abdomen regaining it's hardness.

Sukuna trails rough kisses, as your hands wrap around his built body. It's happening. It's finally happening.

You could not decide whether to feel proud or sad. Being fucked by the king of curses, sukuna himself can be considered sort of an achievement right?

"So wet for me huh, you horny weakling" you don't even know when his hand travelled down to your pussy, rubbing your clothed clit, drenching into your juices.

"Nngh...sukuna please! I need it." You beg, looking into his crimson red eyes, squirming with need. "Need what baby? Use your words..."

Sukuna grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. "I need you." You whimper, wanting to feel him inside you. Your nails sink in his arms marking bruises as he brushes his finger over you sensitive nipple again. "Beg in detail baby....wanna know what exactly my mortal slut wants..."

"I want you to fill me up. Fuck me. Destroy my cun—AHHH" before you could finish your sentence, sukuna rips the last piece of fabric from your body, slamming it in without any notice.

"Aaah, f-fuck it baby- ah....so tight...mmnh"

Sukuna lowly grunts in pleasure, as he's sinking himself inside of your gummy walls. Your cunt looked so pretty, streching for his cock, wrapping it around so well. He fitted in you like a puzzle piece made for each other. He felt so warm with you wrapped around him.

It felt heavenly, as his mind fogs into the frantic daze you're luring him in. Unable to resist yourself, you started bucking your hips upwards wanting to feel him. You wanted him close. Even more close.

He started thrusting into you, picking up his pace, steady and rough at the same time. you wrap your legs around his abdomen, allowing him to pound deeper, making your eyes roll in pleasure.

He filled you up so well, even better than you thought. The way he slammed it in, streching you up, sent delicious shivers down your spine. Your mind felt fuzzy and ecstatic as he thrusts hungrily, causing you dripping your sloppy mess on his dick. His cock dived deep in you, hitting spots even you weren't aware of. You could feel his blood rushing through his veins, rubbing inside of your cunt. Pushing in and out.

He fucks you like he's fighting with you. Just like before. Except what you're fighting for is to crawl into eachother's skin. He wanted to kill you before. The taste of your blood on his tongue was intoxicating. It intrigued him even more.

A part of him still wants to kill you, but—

"Mmmnh...ahh...sukuna..."

One of his arms slides down to your waist, while the other rests beside you to support his weight. Sukuna hisses as you clench your gummy walls around him.

"Hmnh...yeah..." His voice came out husky and if you weren't hearing wrong, being all brainfucked at the intensity he pounded you, his voice was half an octave lower than before. He could tell your close by how tightly you clenched around him. Your sweet whimpers sounded euphoric to his ears. The most melodious thing he ever heard.

Desperate, filthy noises echoed through the entire tunnel, as he fucked you mercilessly. You cried out his name as his slides his cock in and out almost too fast with the help of your slick juices mixed along with his precum.

You both were sweating and panting. Fucking eachother like there's no tomorrow. Among the dead bodies of your crew members. However you didn't care. Atleast not now that he's banging you.

"Ahh...hahh...I'm-m close...ahh...cumming" you cry out in pleasure, nails marking his back, tearing up for the second time in a row. "Yeah..hmnh...cum for me. Cum on my cock, baby."

Your body surrendered to fervent bliss, as you feel the build up tension finally releasing, arching your back, curling up your toes. The electric waves of your high jolts through your body like a rollar coaster as you cum on his cock.

You looked at sukuna with your half lidded eyes, as he chased his own climax. And the look on his face was hauntingly beautiful, the one you would never forget. His red eyes never leaving your face as he fucked you, similar red tainting his cheeks, lips parted taking ragged breaths. He bit his lower lip, ramming into you.

You could feel his cock, twitching and throbbing inside you. A muscle on his jaw ticked as he emptied himself into you, with a final rough thrust.

For moments, none of you move, or say anything. Your chests still heaving trying to catch a proper breath. Sukuna was about to pull out, when you raised your hand cupping his face.

His heart skipped a bit as you slowly pull him, arching your neck, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead, then, on his lips.

The kiss was soft, feathery and delicate. Something sukuna never felt before. The way you looked at him, through your half lidded tired eyes; the way his love bites were painted your on body like an art piece on an empty canvas; the way you made him lose his control was something he never experienced.

He eyed you for a brief moment, before pulling his length out, as you wince at the emptiness. However you are too spent to react. His hot liquid leaked out from your pussy, dripping on the floor.

~♡~

The sound of cars arriving, from a bit far turned both of your attention. The help which you called from jujutsu high is here. You turn your head back to look at him when he pressed two fingers on your forehead.

Your mind went blank, as if falling into a deep trance, passing out. Sukuna gets up, scooping up your naked body, as he looks at your face.

A part of him still wants to kill you, but make no mistake. He's certain, he could kill for you.

a/n- this is my first time attempting to write smut. Ignore if there are any mistakes. I'm hella nervous 'bout it. The header is made by me (sukuna one in the last) do not use it without my permission.

© strawberrymochin 2024

[squinch-depraved]

ted, cnc, but make it keeping reader stoned for freeuse purposes

do you see the vision?

you beautiful genius i see the vision and it is glorious - i hope our vision is the same because this was really fun... got rlly intense sooo yaya

CW: cnc, somno, free use, drugging someone, marijuana usage, she/her used, MDNFI

ted tossed your dab pen back to you after taking a long drag from it, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs and expelling it upwards with his head tilted back. you copied him, drawing a large cloud from the cart and hacking a few short coughs while he laughed at you.

"you're a bigger stoner than i am, how are you coughing from that?" he chuckled.

you whipped your head around to glare at him. "coughing isn't indicative of experience smoking, ted. i'm disappointed in you, you should know better." your voice was dry and matter-of-fact. "plus, i took a blinker and you didn't." you leaned back onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling, pen still clutched in your hand.

it was quiet for an unquantifiable stretch of time, distorted by the drugs you were sharing, until ted spoke. "you still down for our agreement?" his voice was quiet but hopeful.

your eyes opened (not that you had noticed they closed, you were so relaxed) and you thought back on the deal you made with him. you were only staying at his place for a long weekend, three nights and heading home monday. it was the second day, two more sleeps to go before you had to leave your boyfriend's safe haven of an apartment and head back to your chaotic life. ted had pleaded on discord calls between the two of you for weeks before you flew out to l.a., begging you to let him get you stoned beyond your usual limits and take advantage of you. the idea was actually very appealing, and the thought of what he would do to you fueled your late-night vibrator sessions whenever he couldn't be there in a call with you. you took another long hit off your pen and and spoke as you exhaled it.

"you have my full permission to do whatever you want to me teddy."

he grinned and shifted towards you slightly. "as much as i want? all day?"

you nodded and met his eyes. "all day."

he lunged at you, kissing you deeply before he made a noise and broke away to get up and walk to the kitchen.

"where're you going??" you whined, eyes glassy and hair tousled.

"bought you some edibles. i want you gone for me," his voice carried through the apartment.

"if you bring me a whole nerds rope, the agreement is off," you taunted.

he snorted and shuffled back to the couch, handing you a large, square gummy, and looked at you impatiently until you took it from him. "whole thing. eat it," he instructed.

"oh, my god, ted, this thing is huge! how much is this? am i gonna pass out?"

he rolled his eyes and sat down next to you, putting on a movie to watch while it kicked in. "it's from the dispensary down the street, and it's just a little bit more than the ones we usually take. you'll be fine," he replied, before mumbling a, "probably."

with a deep breath, you popped the square in your mouth, not realizing until you had swallowed it that you hadn't eaten at all for the day. oh well, you thought. i'm already in too deep. and so you surrendered to your high, trying your best to pay attention to the obscure film he put on to trip you out. when it finished, ted looked over at you as the credits rolled. your eyes were red and lidded, mouth hanging open in surprise at the ending as you slowly processed what you could. he smirked hungrily while he watched you for a second before reaching over and pulling your pants off, laying you on your back and pushing the stolen hoodie of his you were wearing up so he could see your breasts.

you mumbled something he couldn't understand as he eagerly stretched you on his fingers, bending your legs back so he had a better view of your dripping hole. "ted, teddy, ngh- fuck!" you mewled when he finally pressed his lips to your clit. he sucked at your sensitive nub, working and curling his fingers still while he sloppily ate you out. you glanced down at him and he shifted his eyes to look directly into yours, cutting right through you. a loud, drawn out moan tore from your lips as you laid your head back down, nearly covered by the wet sounds of ted making out with your pussy.

"ted, 's getting to be too much," you cried, your own words echoing in your ears as the room began spinning. he gave your ass a quick smack and started swirling his tongue faster, holding you down when you inevitably began to squirm. "i- i can't, please, teddy, i feel so much! can't handle it! please stop!"

you bucked your hips frantically, trying both to get away from his face and bring it impossibly closer. he moaned into your core and smacked you again, much harder this time. you screamed pitifully as you clenched your thighs around his head, crying out, "stop!! baby, please, i'm gonna.." you trailed off when you started seeing stars, only able to make nonsensical noises while tears flowed down your cheeks. you swore you felt him grin against you and prayed he would finally stop, but he just kept going.

you have no idea how long you laid there, being devoured by your boyfriend like that. your sense of time was beyond fucked, and all you could do was occasionally beg, "stop? please?" before getting slapped again. he was going to eat until he had his fill, and you were going to have to deal. when he finally pulled away, you looked down at him and your stomach flipped. his face was red, lips puffy and wet, stubble soaked by your essence, and his hazel eyes peered up, and then down at you as he sat up and wiped his face with his sleeve. your eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, adorned by a dark wet spot right where his tip would be, and you blinked slowly before looking back up.

he handed you your pen from the table and said, "smoke more and take a nap. i gotta get some shit done but we're not finished here."

you sighed and obeyed, taking a hit to appease him before he walked away. you pulled a blanket over you, not bothering to put pants back on before curling up and dozing off. ted checked back in on you after cleaning up the mess he made in his pants, and, finding you sleeping peacefully, he got a few chores done around the apartment. he wanted to be sure you were really sleeping so your reaction to him taking you forcefully would be all the more adorable. the groggy expression on your face as you pleaded for him to stop, the futile struggle you would put up as he held you down- it was all going to make tonight worth the weeks he had to put up with between your visits.

it was late afternoon when you came to. orange light filtered through the blinds, and you were suddenly very cold. you turned your head to look at what was happening and found ted kneeling between your legs on the couch, pumping his cock in his hand before shoving your legs open wider. you were stupid from the weed; your eyes only widened a little bit when you realized what was happening.

"no! nonononono! ted! please, please don't," you stuttered, brain trying to keep up with the situation.

he simply grinned and hooked your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with you and waiting for just a moment before he said, "'anything i want,' baby. you said. this is your fault." with that, he buried himself deep into you, savoring every second and gently pumping his hips.

after a minute, he started thrusting harder, chuckling breathlessly when you resumed begging him to stop. of course, he knew you'd use the safe word if you really needed him to stop. it was so like you to put on a show for him, you really were such a performative slut. or maybe you really didn't remember.

"god, baby, you're so weak under me! hate to think of what else i could do to ya without you bein' able to stop me," he growled, still grinning. "taste these, huh, baby?" he shoved his fingers in your mouth, pressing them onto your tongue and watching as tears filled your eyes yet again, and he relished in how pathetic you looked as he ruined you.

when you started gagging on his digits, he pulled them out and wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly. "my pretty baby takes me sooo well, even when she doesn't want to," he continued, now pounding into you. all you could do was cry.

"y'know," he started with a laugh. "i really didn't think you'd be stupid enough to eat that whole gummy!" the sound of him smacking into you persisted as you slowly worked through what he said.

"wha?" you slurred, cockdrunk and higher than you had ever been.

"you just believed me so easily! one fourth-" he slammed deep into you, "- of that thing is what we usually have, but you just ate it all because i told you to." he leered down at you, continuing, "so trusting. so stupid. what if i wanted to hurt you, love? what if i used you until you were worthless and then kept going?"

you just sobbed. "and then i told you to smoke more, and you did! you stupid little slut! i bet you've never been this high, huh?" he was right in a way he couldn't imagine. you were floating, every inch of your skin tingling, and your core ached from overstimulation. you didn't think there was such a thing as too many orgasms, but here you were. your thoughts were a mess, the only thing in your mind was the name you were screaming: "teddy!!" over and over and over as you bawled, pounding your fist at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him. but he persisted, railing you at an inhumane speed and reaching unexplored depths.

your only indication he was close was him gripping your throat far too tight, and you frantically grasped at his fingers while he jackhammered into you several final times before burying his shaft as far as it could go and cumming in you with a low, "fuuuck..."

the two of you kept your eyes locked until he caught his breath and removed his hand from your now slightly bruised throat. the sight snapped him out of his brutish state as he began to panic, kissing your neck softly and cooing about how sorry he was.

you just smiled and let your eyes fall closed, trusting him to take care of you after he had abused you so filthily.

[callsign-rogueone]

splinter

Liam Mairi x reader (spark!) words: 2.3k 🏷: this one is heavy. mentions of passive suicidal ideation (wanting to die but not doing anything about it), spark goes to RSC and Bodhi is with her, canon-level descriptions of torture and injury, liam being the sweetest as per usual, some of Spark’s Issues™️ are explained, SMALL ONYX STORM SPOILER (GARRICK’S SIGNET) but that's it.

You snarl, pulling forward against the chains. “Touch him again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

The infantry officer just smiles down at you. “I’d like to see you try, cadet.”

You should have known he’d take your warning as an invitation. He turns back to Bodhi, examining him for a moment, as if deciding what would hurt most — and then takes a boot to his already-bruised ribs. 

His screaming covers the snapping sound.

Water starts to rise from thin air, filling the room.

“We’re below ground,” you tell them. “Right next to a river that has claimed the souls of thousands over the years. It won’t hesitate to take yours, either. You two do have souls, don’t you?”

The woman seems to realize you’re serious, her eyes widening, but her counterpart stands firm. “There’s one problem with your plan, cadet,” he condescends, not minding the water that’s up to his knees now. “You’ll drown, too, and so will your friends.”

Quinn is silent beside you, knowing better than to intervene. Bodhi is still trying to catch his breath, his exhales rattling and wet. There’s blood in his lungs, from the sound of it. After you’re done with these two, you’ll draw it out.

You don’t bother to tell the officer how it’ll work. He can see for himself in a minute. “One last chance to let us go.”

“I don’t think I’ll take it.”

You know exactly how long it takes to drown; you’ve walked the knife’s edge yourself many times at Tuile’s orders, in the name of eliminating weakness. “Then I suggest you use the next twelve seconds to settle up with your gods.”

The water rises, a tidal wave of murky black headed straight for their faces. It pushes forward as they step back, unable to escape it. 

“I don’t know why you didn’t do this hours ago,” Tuile huffs. “It would have made things much easier.”

You ignore her as usual, watching the officers for a sign of surrender. You won’t kill them if you don’t have to. But after all they’ve done, anything short of setting you all free won’t be enough. And even then, they wouldn’t be safe.

“It’s okay,” Bodhi says quietly, still panting. “We’re okay.”

You feel that gentle push against your power, but it’s weaker than normal — he’s too tired to stop you properly. You reel it back yourself, not wanting to exhaust him further. 

The water drains, seeping back into the ground, and the two infantry officers gasp for air. 

Professor Grady flings the door open, seeing the four of you perfectly dry as they still kneel, shivering and coughing the water from their lungs. “I told you this one wouldn’t be easy,” he says, no pity in his eyes as he looks at them.

You glare up at him. “Are we done now?”

He doesn’t answer the question. “I’ll admit, nobody has been able to turn the tables on their captors as you did,” he says carefully, “but had you killed them, three more would have taken their place, and made things quite a bit worse for you.“

“Then I’d keep going, until I found one who valued their life enough to set us free.”

Something changes in his eyes as he looks at you. “Release the others,” he orders, “but keep her here.”

“What? How is that fair?” Quinn asks.

“War isn’t fair,” the male infantry officer answers, eyeing you with contempt. He’s still soaked, trying to suppress his shivering. “Unless the both of you would rather stay here all night and watch?”

“Go,” you tell your friends, staring him down. “I can handle myself.”

————————

There are eighteen steps leading up to the second-year dorms. You take them one at a time, grinding your teeth as the movement strains your muscles. At least you don’t have any broken bones. 

Liam is sitting in front of your door, a small knife in one hand and a block of wood in the other, a little bag of shavings beside him. He’s been carving a lot of dragons lately. You’re just thankful that he hasn’t done yours. Tuile doesn’t deserve the honor, nor the hours of his time. 

He sets the materials aside as soon as he sees you, putting everything back in the bag and standing up. Neither of you have to say anything. This isn’t the first time he’s been there to patch you up, and it won’t be the last. He never asks questions, either, just gets to work disinfecting and bandaging. 

But this time, he looks at you differently. Maybe it’s the severity of your injuries. They hadn’t broken your nose, but you’re pretty sure that you have two black eyes and a split lip — you can feel that, even though you can’t see it. And then there’s the rest of you. They’d left no stone unturned, being incredibly thorough with your punishment for nearly killing two ranking officers.

The door unlocks as soon as you set your hand on the knob. You hadn’t expected it to work, after they’d forced whatever was in that little vial down your throat, disconnecting you from Tuile and her magic. That was a relief, honestly. Until they’d beaten the shit out of you, that is.

You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed as you tug off your tunic and kick aside your boots. Liam’s already seen you in a state of partial undress once, and the sooner you can get this over with, the sooner you can curl up and sleep for the rest of the weekend. It is the weekend, right? If it isn’t, you’re skipping class today. Maybe you can earn yourself another dose of that stuff, or maybe they’ll push too far and actually kill you. 

It feels like it’s been a full day since they released Bodhi and Quinn, but the days and hours have blurred together. It’s hard to guess how long you were down there, but it’s early morning now. Did Liam stay outside your room all night, waiting for you? 

You sit down in your desk chair and close your eyes, waiting. He knows where you keep all your supplies at this point; this is the fourth, or maybe fifth time you’ve done this since his arrival at Basgiath. He’s never once suggested that you see the healers — he knows better than that, knows you’ll never set foot in the infirmary here or anywhere ever again. You get by well enough with the things you’d learned from your parents, anyway.

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before he finally speaks. “Bodhi told me what happened,” he says softly, and you burn with shame, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why are you still here?” you ask. “Why aren’t you afraid of me, like everyone else?”

He tilts your chin back up to disinfect a cut below your eye. “Because I care about you, and because I want to understand why. I know that isn’t you — that isn’t my Spark.”

You’ve never felt such profound shame before, seeing the softness in his eyes as he gazes down at you, feeling the gentle touch of his hand on your cheek. 

He expects better of you. 

You aren’t the girl you used to be. 

You’ve disappointed him. 

That hurts so much worse than any of your physical injuries.

“I get it if you don’t want to tell me. I’m just worried about you. I don’t know what changed in the last year, or why, but I know something’s wrong, that you’re hurting, and I want to help you.”

You don’t say anything, and he drops the subject, continuing his work silently. 

But you need to tell him the truth, before it’s too late. “Everything I feel, every emotion has multiplied by five, and I can’t make it stop,” you blurt. 

He stills, looking back at you.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t think about anything but how angry I am, but most of the time it’s not even my anger, it’s hers,” you whisper, scared she’ll hear you. It’s unclear when this stuff will wear off. She could come back at any moment, hear any whispered confession and make you pay the price for your weakness later. 

You continue, your voice wavering. “Every morning for the last year I’ve woken up wondering if today will be the day that I’ll cross the line, that I’ll take things too far and Bodhi and the others won’t be able to stop me.”  You can’t stop the words from entering the air, the thing you’ve never told anyone, never admitted, not even to yourself. “Sometimes I wish she’d killed me during Threshing, that she’d hit a vein and let me bleed out in the forest.”

His eyes widen as he realizes the three thick scars crossing your collarbone were from Tuile. She’d scratched you, as many dragons do with their bonded to mark their riders — like the scar through Xaden’s eyebrow — but he’s never seen one this severe.

She must have wanted it to hurt.

He kneels down in front of the chair, at eye level with you now, and pulls you forward into a gentle hug, wrapping you in warmth. “I’m so grateful she didn’t, Spark. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

You finally crack, a soft sob parting your lips at the pressure it puts on the cuts and bruises covering your skin. You clutch at the soft black fabric of his shirt with aching hands, needing him close even though it hurts, and the idea of him taking care of you after everything you’ve done makes you sick.

He strokes your back, speaking softly. “I mean it. You’re the world to me. And we’ll get you help, I promise. I’m sure my older sister would know what to do. She knows everything there is to know about dragons. I can’t send letters as a first year, but Xaden could. And you know he’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You shake your head no against his shoulder. “There’s nothing you or anyone else can do. I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides softly. “Please don’t give up, Spark. I know it’s difficult, but you’re so strong, and we’re all here to help you. Me, Bodhi, Xay, the girls…”

“You don’t get it,” you sniff. “Tuile was bonded to my grandfather for thirty years. A direct relative.”

He’s quiet, not sure what this means. They haven’t covered this in Kaori’s class — they never will.

You explain in a wavering voice. “The books say that anyone bonded to a dragon who was formerly bonded to their direct relative will either get a second signet or go completely mad, and I’ve tried everything, but all I can do is the water.”

Garrick had gotten a second one, as did Imogen and a few of the others who had riders in the family. But you ended up with your piece-of-shit grandfather’s piece-of-shit dragon, who probably decided that you didn't deserve a second signet, that you were too weak, too soft.

“That’s why I can’t control myself half the time,” you say in a cracked whisper, your breathing unsteady. “I’m already starting to lose my grip.”

He rests his chin on top of your head, keeping you tucked into his arms. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl.”

Nobody else has ever apologized to you about this, just given you pitiful looks and kept their distance — except Bodhi. But he’s only stuck with you out of responsibility, because he can keep you leashed with his own signet. 

“I’ll stay with you until the end. Even if you forget my name or try to kill me, I’ll be by your side.”

You manage a bitter laugh — a dry huff of air that makes your bruised ribs throb. “That might actually happen.”

“I know,” he says softly, still rubbing your back. “But if it does, I’ll know that it isn’t you, and it isn’t your fault. None of this was your fault. But I’m so proud of you for telling me, and for making it this far. And I promise you I will do everything I can to help slow this down, and to make life easier for you.” 

Your tears have dried, leaving you with a hollow feeling in your sinuses, but Liam still holds you, your breathing now synchronized with his. 

You take the opportunity to try some of the advice a friend had given you, that had seemed like complete and utter bullshit at the time, but might be worth it now.

Three things you can feel: the softness of Liam’s tunic and the warmth of his skin against yours, the ache of the bruises covering your body.

Two things you can see: Liam’s arm around you, and the definition of the muscle there. The mess of used medical supplies on your desk. 

One thing you can taste: the coppery blood that still coats the edges of your teeth. 

You’ll drag yourself to the bathing chambers to brush before you go to sleep. Should probably shower, too. It’ll be exhausting, but if you’re truly disconnected from Tuile and her magic, you won’t have to worry about drowning.

You hate to admit it, but you feel a little better now, a little safer with the familiarity of your room, and Liam in it with you. 

The bells ring — each of the six chimes making you wince. “Y’ should get to formation,” you murmur. 

His hand smooths over your hair once more, not minding the blood, dirt, and grease in it. “Are you gonna be okay on your own?” he asks softly. He doesn’t say it outright, but you know what he’s really asking.

“Mm. Jus’ gonna shower and sleep.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, but still lingers a moment longer. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“For surviving this long. For not giving up, and for telling me what’s going on.”

You don’t tell him that he’s the only reason you’re still going. 

Your words blur together with exhaustion. “Thank you. Fr’ cleaning me up.”

He lays a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he pulls away, careful not to brush the bruises there. “Always.”

[mochinomnoms]

the twins trying to explain their polycule to the twins (tiny size):

Floyd: Okay so, do you two know what that means?

Jade is behind them drawing in a whiteboard to explain Floyd's attention span is going to be in either one of those fry

Pearl and Coral without skipping a beat: Another parent to whine and pout to get more siblings???

Jade and Floyd just smiling mischievously instead of confirming or denying: ...

Yuu and Azul watching from the nearest room

Yuu: Oh no

Azul: sigh

The cutest thing is the interactions and first meetings with the hatchling!! It goes either way the lil hatchling is a bit slippery and so the twins (tiny size) are panicking a bit when trying to hold it and the other is just big curious eyes looking at the hatchling that barely takes up their plam wrapping it's tiny tentacles around anything it can find to feel it's surroundings (the hatchling still has their eyes closed but thanks to pearl's and coral's pleads under much precaution get to hold it) oh and grandma Ashengrotto helping coral and pearl learn how to play but softly!!

Pearl: So.. Would this be alright? test bite

Grandma Ashengrotto internally: HOLY FU-

Grandma Ashengrotto: Try going a bit softer dear..!

Progress is progress though!!

Also please someone stop Pearl and Coral from having an "I am a better older sister!" fight (I remember having that happen to me with my older cousins and they would always ask which one of them was my favorite cousin little me was so confused)

-Vaquita

The (little) twins don't really care about the specifics, they're just happy to know that Zuzu will get to stay around a lot longer, and now they can call him Baba!

I forgot that in "Delights of Being Zuzu" that there were also the triplets (Poppy, Moss, and Lumiro). So the little hatchling, Beryl, also has three siblings of similar age to grow with! He's small, but still a bit bigger than the triplets, with Moss being the smallest as a berry. Even so, Beryl quite likes curling his tentacles around his siblings when sleeping, which Poppy and Lumiro do in kind with their tails. Moss is content to get squeezed by the three of them.

However, Pearl and Coral are still learning how to play gently with their siblings. You're correct that Pearl likes to play by biting, which is a habit that Yuu, Azul, and Mama Ashengrotto, or Iris, try to deter. They tell her to go bite her Papa and Dada (aka, Jade and Floyd) instead. At least until the fries are big enough to handle their rambunctious sister. Thankfully, Coral is more than helpful to play fight with Pearl!

They do fight over who is the better (*cough*favorite*cough*) sister. Coral is confident that it's her because she's nicer, and Pearl is rough. Pearl is convinced it's her because she's fun and Coral's boring. The fries are sleeping while they fight about it. They do not care, they want to nap.

[rhadamanthes]

Thirst trap. Trueform!Sukuna x curse!reader

word count : 1,7k

warnings : Trueform! Sukuna, Heian era, blood, injury, lactation, four arms, two cocks, voyeurism, praise and degradation, belly mouth, petnames, reader calls Sukuna master,dacryphilia, sadist!Sukuna, orgasm denial, creampie, double penetration, minimum prep, slight aftercare.

Uraume walks you to the throne room as you rely on their shoulder. Your throat feels gravely again, you cough in your hand, coating it with more blood.

"We're almost there," their calm voices warn.

Standing in front of the heavy wooden door Uraume knocks, waiting for approval. After a moment the doors slowly open revealing the king of curses sitting on his throne. One arm supporting his head as the others are on the armrest.  Uraume pinch your back, urging you to bow with them in front of the master. You painfully do, head pounding, you want to cough again but you know he will kill you for the disrespect.You feel like the cut in your stomach is growing with each step as you kneel in front of the throne, head hanging low. 

"Master" you croak, trying your best to sound loud and clear. Silence fills the room for a bit, you can only hear his nails raking against the throne.

"What a disappointment, I hand you a mission and you come back here sliced like a pig, begging for mercy".  His deep voice taunts, as you hear him walking down the stairs.

You can't answer yet, placing your hand in front of your mouth feeling the cough at the tip of your tongue.

"And so rude too, your master is talking" he growls yanking your head backward so he can look at your face. 

Four vermillion orbs scrutinize your face, and you feel shame take over your body, you're caked in blood in front of the most powerful curse in the world. He probably thinks you're pathetic, and he'd be right. 

"Out of all the stupid curses I let roam around here, you were the most promising and now you're reduced to this.  You should have died or never came back. You're a shame"  He let go of your hair, sitting in front of you, legs crossed, back straight, even like that he still is so much taller than you." I'm going to mold you into a true weapon so you never bring shame in my estate ever again, now drink, before I hang you with your  own insides," he urges, freeing his chest from his kimono.

Wasting no time you latch your mouth to his breast. The cold liquid fills your mouth and you moan in relief, it soothes your throat and you can already feel the cuts all over your body slowly healing. You get closer to him, on your knees to get  a better access to his skin. Looking up to him, you check if you did anything to annoy him, but you only see his four eyes scrutinizing your every move while you draw  precious milk from him.

A wet warm sensation spreads over your belly, looking down you recognize the big tongue adorning his lower body. It's licking at the blood you shed. You never felt anything like that before, It's so wide, covering your whole lower belly. The sensation makes something else churn in you.  Soon enough there was no more milk to drink from his left teat. You're about to move to the other when his big hand catches your chin.

"Sure you need more?" he taunts

"Yes, it's still open master" you gesture to your stomach, out of breath. Sukuna let go off your chin and you greedily suck his other nipple in your mouth. 

The taste is sweet, nothing you would expect from him, you're getting addicted, you half lied to him, most of your cuts are healed but you still feel dizzy, needing more. You press your forehead against his skin, milking him to the last drop. You're breathless when you're done, sitting on your heels as you catch your breath. you wipe the side of your mouth from the remaining milk. You lift your gaze to him and he's already looking at you with hungry eyes. Sukuna is towering over you and he's so large, you feel like a prey, shoulders slumping.

"Thank you master I owe you my life I won't deceive you again I swear this to you" bowing so low your forehead almost touches the floor.

"No you won't, and you're going to show me your gratitude in the way that I choose, turn around."

Straightening up, you oblige, now facing the door, you feel his warmth in your back two of his hands trace the contour of your body as the other two land on the floor, bending you over in the process. His sharp fingernail slices your clothes and he throws them on the side.

"Let's see how easily you break" he positions you on your knees spreading them apart. His belly tongue licks you up roughly again, and you feel like a newborn calf getting cleaned up. 

Despite being a curse you have all the attributes of a female, his tongue catches your clit while licking your crotch and you try not to quiver. He licks you again a few times before prodding his cock at your entrance... you feel two tips. Turning your head around you notice that Sukuna has in fact two heavy cocks on top of one another. You gulp loudly, not ready for the stretch you're about to feel. 

"You'll take it don't worry" he laughs at your helplessness

Not answering, you rest your head on the cold tile floor in an attempt to relax. Without warning Sukuna enters your pussy in one go with his two cocks and your whole body tenses, eyes shutting close.  You cry silently, pussy buzzing around his cocks trying to get used to the stretch. 

"Does this hurt more than the states you were in before?" he coos, ramming slowly into your cunt.

"No master" you grit through your teeth, not to scream. 

"Then I'm not doing it well" 'His deep voice tones. 

You feel two of his hands circling your waist as he starts to pick up the pace. His thrust moves you forward, you grab on his other arms to keep in place. Opening your eyes slowly you can see the mark on his wrist, your small hand wrapped around it, you're not even covering half of it, he's so big, you moan out, echoing in the room as he mocks you. The sinfulness of the scene makes you quiver, you always wondered what he would be like behind closed curtains, and now you have a very graphic answer. 

You get used to his size, pleasure slowly builds inside of you, gripping harder on his wrist. Sukuna's loud grunt covers your moans, and it sounds a mess, you're persuaded that the whole estate can hear you, it turns you on even more. To confirm your thoughts, Uraume passes their head through the crack of the door, a worried expression on their face, it turns to neutral when they see what predicament you're in. Sukuna laughs leaning on your back, as he feels your pussy squeeze him at the sight of Uraume. What a dirty little vixen you really are. He grabs your hair, locking them in a way you can only see the door and Uraume. 

"Tell them how you feel, hmm? I'm sure they were worried sick about you" he purr in your ear, resting his head on your shoulder and you can feel a mouth nipping at your cheek. Him and his damn ability. 

" Aa-ah Uraume, feels so good~ " you mumble under Sukuna's powerful thrusts. He gestures for them to come in and they sit on the floor watching you two copulate. This is exactly what you needed, your beloved master crushing you under him, showing the servant that you're his, in every way.  

You bite your lips, feeling more depraved than ever. They'll probably never see you the same again Sukuna is deep inside of you, bullying your sweet spot. The sensation of your master's cocks pushing your insides while Uraume stares, excites you to no end, your orgasm is approaching. You want the release so bad but you know you have to ask permission first. 

"Master please can i cum ?" 

"No" 

"Please master" you beg, tears welling up in your eyes.The fuss earns you a spank on your rear. 

"You'll come when i tell you to" he grunt biting at your shoulders, you feel your skin break. 

He alternates between reaching your sweet spot and just fucking into you, searching for his own release. You're full on crying, feeling so far yet so close to your high at the same time. You close your eyes sobbing like a punished child. 

"Good little curse, you're going to take all of my semen hmm? That's the least you can do after I saved your life" he purrs in your ear, extending his tongue to lick at your tears. 

You nod your head eager to finally cum. In one last mix of grunt Sukuna fills you up to the brim, it’s even leaking out your abused hole. You moan at fullness but still not satisfied yet.

« Master ? » you murmur once the room is calm. A booming laugh comes from behind you, Sukuna knows what you want, he's going to give it to you, he just likes to hear you so miserable.

His weight is no longer on you, looking back, he’s sitting with his legs crossed, a devilish smirk adorning his features.

« You want to cum ? Do it yourself » 

Humiliation is running through your body, as you stand up and his cum runs down your thigh. On shaky legs you walk to him, empalling yourself on him. You’re determined to make yourself cum as he said, hands on his shoulders to help you bounce on his massive cocks. 

Your moans are erratic, chasing your own high, his belly tongue torture you once again licking at the remaining cum on your thigh. Your clit is under his assault too, it doesn’t take long for you to cum all over him, panting and shaking.  You smile against his chest feeling sleepy after your orgasm. His fingernails rack against your back, not enough to cut, but to keep you awake.

« Not bad, but once I’m done with you, you won't be smiling anymore.»

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers Day 30: Lights (sort of. the nsfw version). Maxiel. About 1k words.

Daniel had bought them as a joke, something to wrap up and give Max just to see him blush, but he doesn't feel like laughing right now. He actually feels like his brain is going to leak out of his ears.

They had turned off the lights in the living room, for a better effect Max had said, and their only sources of lights are now the Christmas tree in the corner, twinkling with warm yellow, and the light up dildo in Max's hand.

Daniel doesn't know how he thought this would be funny, doesn't know how he thought his reaction to see Max kneeling on the couch, a light up plug in his ass and a light up dildo in his hand, would be to fucking laugh.

The plug is tiny, smaller than the one Max usually liked, but the base of it glows with soft pink and purples, creating blushing shadows on the back of his thighs.

Daniel really wants to touch, to see if it was warm, how it would look in his hand, but Max had told him to sit and enjoy their present, so Daniel is sitting. And very much enjoying.

"Does it look good?" Max asks, pressing his elbows on the arm of the couch to push his ass out more, a breathlessness in his voice betraying is faux coyness.

"It looks very pretty," Daniel manages to say after swallowing twice, trying to wet his dry throat. He wants to put his mouth on it.

"It does not feel as good as the glass one," Max tells him conversationally, fingers reaching back to prod at the plug. The glass one is Max's favorite, one of the bigger ones they have, smooth and elegant.

Daniel doesn't have any braincells left to think about the other plug though, not when Max is lightly playing with this one, pushing it in further before drawing it back a little, his hand almost fully covering the light. All Daniel can do is dig his fingers in his thighs, trying to keep himself from reaching forward.

"I think this will feel better," Max says after a moment, shifting on the couch to raise the dildo. The colors of it are changing, and Daniel hopes he can survive this evening, so that another time he can ask Max to blow it, wants to see lighting up his mouth from the inside.

"You should try," Daniel tells him, vaguely proud of how his voice is just a little bit choked. He's so hard he might explode, and Max has barely done anything yet.

Maybe he should ask him to blow the dildo right now, because he's not that sure he will survive the evening.

Max hums, grabbing the lube from the coffee table and pouring some directly over the dildo, some of it dripping over the towel he had very smartly placed on the couch. The he reaches back again, and pulls out the plug.

Daniel doesn't know what sound he makes, something between a cough and a moan, high pitched and embarrassing, but he doesn't even care, because Max's hole is clenching around nothing, and no matter how many times Daniel sees it happening it will never not be devastatingly hot.

Max leans forward more on the couch, down on his elbow as he switches the hand he's holding the dildo with, plug dropped on the coffee table with the lube. It's still lit up, and it creates a weird purple glow on the glass surface.

When the dildo touches Max's hole it is light green, and Daniel watches, mesmerized, as it turns light blue and then blue as he slowly pushes in, just one inch.

Daniel lets out a broken moan, which mixes with Max's shaky exhale. Daniel can see his muscles clenching, trying to adjust to the difference in the stretch, from the tiny plug to the dildo.

"Do you..." the words disappear from Daniel's brain when Max pushes in another inch of the now orange dildo, and he has to breathe twice before he remembers what he was going to ask. "Do you want help?"

He knows Max has plenty of experience with fucking himself on a dildo, but the angle isn't the most comfortable, especially when going so slowly. And maybe Daniel just really wants to touch, sue him.

"No," Max mumbles, sounding dazed, "you sit. And watch."

Well, Daniel is for sure watching.

Max takes his time with it, fucking the dildo in and out, slowly taking more and more, until it's almost fully in, just a sliver of green lighting up his rim, when he jolts, moaning loudly, legs slipping further open.

"Yes, baby, that's it," Daniel finds himself babbling, feeling so turned on he feels like his whole body is just made of pure lust. "Does that feel good? You look so good, baby, so pretty."

Max whines, and his hand is trembling when he drags the dildo out again, lights dancing on his skin with each shaky movement before disappearing when he fucks it in again with a punched out moan.

"Fuck, Maxy, let me..." Daniel asks, uncaring of the desperation in his voice, just wanting to touch, but Max shakes his head.

"No, you sit," he repeats.

He's fucking himself more steadily now, finding his rhythm, moaning and whining, more loudly every time he manages to hit his prostate.

The lights are mesmerizing, and Daniel feels dazed, too warm, skin tingling with need.

"Daniel," Max moans, and Daniel can tell he's close. "Touch yourself. I want...come with me."

Daniel doesn't have to be asked twice, shoving down his sweats just enough to drag his dick out, red and hard, already so wet he doesn't even think about reaching for the lube.

It only takes a few strokes, his eyes firmly fixed on Max's ass and the way it shakes as he comes, spilling white all over the towel, and then he's coming too, with a half shout of Max's name.

[imshymorph]

Johnny is part of the man cold society™ and no one can convince me of the contrary, so here’s some clingy and soft!johnny who caught a cold. (probably as consequence of a dumb bet with Gaz or something)

Think about it, Johnny laying in bed, constantly moving and adjusting because his body aches from the low fever he has. He constantly sniffs and clears his throat, his nose stuffy and clogged and his throat sore and itchy. You know he must be really uncomfortable, you really do. Knowing that he had struggled to sleep the night before, coughing fits constantly waking both of you.

But you can’t help yourself when you let out a little laugh as you sit on the edge of bed beside him, feeling his forehead to check his temperature. He gives you a nasty look, “ugh, i hate this.” he complains, trying to adjust once more.

- - - - -

You smile amusedly, running your fingers through his mohawk, pushing it back so it won’t stick to his clammy forehead. “You turn into such a baby.” you joke, receiving yet another side eye. You giggle and lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, which is enough for him to soften a bit. “Here, this’ll help.” You say, handing him the little cup with the medicine in it, you were honestly glad you weren’t sick too, because that thing was disgusting.

“Bonnie, no.” he grumbles, covering his face with a pillow, hiding from the tiny cup. It’s another minute of his dramatics before he sighs and pushes the pillow to the side, grabbing the medicine and throwing it back as if it were a tequila shot. He makes a grimace and shudders as he gulps it down. “That tastes horrible.” he complains as he leans back against the pillows.

You chuckle, “It’s supposed to taste bad so babies don’t chug it down or something like that.” You take the small cup from him and leave it on the bedside table, handing him water to wash off the flavour.

“Yeah, no wonder they won’t.” He grumbles, drinking about half of the cup before giving it back. He twists and turns again, burying his head in the mountain of pillows he has accumulated. He looks at you for a moment before a small grin appears, “Give me a kiss to make it better.” he says, puckering his lips.

You roll your eyes but lean in anyway, pressing a soft peck to his lips. “Nuh-uh,” you say before he complains, “that’s all you get. I don’t want to be sick.”

He sighs, burying his head on the pillows again. “Is it illegal to be clingy?” He asks indignantly, “Because I dinnae think so. I'm sick, I need kisses. And attention.” he keeps on grumbling. It just makes you chuckle again, more so because he’s had a hand resting on your leg this whole time.

“You’re always clingy, darling.” You tease with a smile, another laugh leaving you as he huffs and puffs indignantly, having to fight with his pile of pillows to turn and look at you.

“I need yer touch, bonnie. I dinnae ken how long I have left.” he justifies, sitting up a bit to wrap his arms around you and pull you down on the bed with him, causing you to yelp. In just a second he’s laying with his head on your chest, arms around your waist and legs tangled with yours. He lets out a small sigh, absolutely pleased with himself.

You let out a soft laugh, wrapping your arms around him, one hand moving to play with his hair. “Love, you’ve got the flu, you’re not on your deathbed. You’ve been through worse” you say bemused.

“Ye never ken, lass.” He murmurs, snuggling closer until his body is completely flush against you, “jus’ hold me. Need it” And you let out a little amused snort but still comply, holding him even when he falls asleep as you run your fingers up and down his back, drawing random shapes. A small smile forming on your lips when he finally gets some much needed rest.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 6 (Azure Lion, Peng, Yellowtusk)

(I originally made my own design of Azure and Yellowtusk but wasn't quite happy with how they turned out so I scrapped them, the designs for those two I used in these edits were made by @/erraday_ on twt, with a few minor changes, but Peng's design is my own :) )

- He/Him

- Pansexual

- Snores so loud, it's insane, Yellowtusk once thought there was an earthquake

- Feels bad whenever he's steps on a ladybug, butterfly etc

- Gives everyone and everything giant bear hugs because he thinks if Yellowtusk can take it, so can everyone else (They cannot)

- Mei once gave him catnip as a joke and he went fucking feral, he's not allowed near catnip anymore

- His hair/fur is actually very soft and curly

- Thought he saw an old friend while out in public and hugged them, it was a stranger

- Wakes up Yellowtusk in the middle of the night to ask stupid questions

- The Brotherhood asked to hear his roar but he got really nervous last second and it ended up being really meek, they never let him forget it

- Coughed up a hairball once and Peng refuses to let him live it down

- Has eaten cat food before and would do it again

- Cannot do the splits and is too scared to try

- Gets really confused by modern slang, MK and Mei abuse the hell out of it because it's funny

- Whenever he's rough housing with people he accidentally hits a bit too hard

- Whenever he walks past anyone playing a game that involves a ball (football, basketball, netball, etc) he somehow always ends up getting hit in the head with it

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he wouldn't know what the fuck to do and would be really awkward cause he doesn't know how to interact with children, he'd be able to bond with Redson better when he becomes a teenager though

- No one gossips with him because he always ends up unintentionally outing someone about something

- Ate moldy food once by accident and freaked out, he was absolutely disgusted

- Hates horror movies but loves slashers

- Drinks mouthwash

- Smells like catnip (trust me guys)

- Love language is words of affirmation

- Has horrible bed head, his mane gets tangled really easily and he tosses around a lot at night so his mane takes hours to brush out

- Absolutely refuses to wear shoes, they hurt his feet (paws?)

- The type of person to cry over a movie about a dog getting lost and then finding its owner at the end

- Can somehow eat an entire goddamn buffet and not gain a single pound

- His face always scrunches up when he smiles

- Lost his balance on a hill and fell down like a tumbleweed once, Peng still brings it up

- They/He (Canon, Peng uses They/Them in the show but is exclusively referred to w/ He/Him in the sets)

- Nonbinary (Canon)

- Starts squaking when he laughs too much

- If you throw a blanket over their head he'll immediately fall asleep

- "look behind you but don't make it obvious" Looks behind him in the most exaggerated, obvious way known to mankind

- Stole food from Wukong's private stash for several months when the Brotherhood was all still together, Wukong still doesn't know

- Wukong gave them cooked chicken once as a joke but he actually liked it

- Constantly argues with Wukong about Macaque not being able to hold his own, yes it got physical

- Their wings have a bunch of scars from the amount of weapons and shit they block with them. Has to consistently clean their wings in order to keep them from getting too damaged, yes this includes softening and preening his feathers

- If they weren't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid they would tape him to the wall like that one meme and call it a day

- Bit off a person's finger once just to see if they could

- Doesn't shop, just steals

- "I hate you so fucking much" as he's handing the person a gift

-  Tried to draw on Wukong's face once but got wacked with his tail

- Absolutely HATES beetroot, will actually gag if he smells it

- Kicks over kids sand castles at the beach

- Can't stand small buzzing sounds

- "I'm not that competitive" is that competitive

- Claims you can trust them with anything but will snitch the second they know it will benefit them

- Probably threatened to eat someone's baby once

- Goes to playgrounds to trip kids

- Smells like Lavender, it just feels right

- Love language is words of affirmation and acts of service

- Has tried sleeping upside down like a bat multiple times

- Hardcore wine aunt vibes

- Had a bunch of ducklings accidently imprinted to him and they followed Peng for hours

- You'd have to pin this bird down to get them to eat collyflower

- Jokingly pushed Azure off a cliff once then remembered they're the only member of the Camel Ridge Trio that can fly

- They have full on concerts at like 3 am, has woken up Azure on multiple occasions

- He/Him

- AroAce

- Is the calmest one in the Brotherhood

- He uses Peng's head as an armrest sometimes

- He and DBK were actually quite close, he knew and accepted that DBK was in love with a celestial but was very surprised to see they ended up having a child

- Very poor eyesight but doesn't like wearing his glasses because Peng made a joke about them once saying he looked like a grandma

- Uses ":3" and ":D"

- Loves soap opera's

- Hates seafood

- Peng once tricked him into eating fish nuggets once and he still hasn't fully forgiven them

- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he would definitely be the most responsible one, and probably Redson's favourite uncle

- Eats a snack then forgets he ate it and will bet frustrated when he can't find it

- The therapist of the Camel Ridge Trio, and probably of the whole Brotherhood in the past as well

- Was the only one who felt bad about imprisoning the Demon Bull Family since he and DBK were very close

- He also reprimanded Peng for when they pinned and scratched Redson with their claws after they left the Demon Bull Palace (he's the protective uncle, trust me guys)

- Hates getting hiccups, he despises the feeling and it gives him heartburn

- Wakes up at ungodly hours just to raid the fridge

- Heard a story about a bug crawling in someone's ear while they slept and has worn earplugs to bed ever since

- Loves apples

- Smells like Lilies

- Love language is gift giving

- Is really big on safety, would be the type of person to make sure everyone is wearing their seat belts before the car is even turned on

- Actually really good at cooking

- Makes the best chocolate chip pancakes ever

- Is the kind of person who assumes everyone tells eachother everything and accidently exposes someone because he thought everyone else knew about it already

- Always hears things wrong but doesn't wanna ask anyone to repeat themselves

- Has the most elegant ass handwriting you will ever see, somehow

- The peacemaker of the Brotherhood,  they all would've disbanded way sooner if it wasn't for him

- Uses his trunk as a snorkle when swimming or sleeping underwater (elephants actually do this irl, I just thought it was cute)

[silvercap]

If you're in the mood, maybe fever aches/cramps? At this point you know who 😆 (up to you if alone or with a friend)

Hehe of course 🥰

The bedsheets are damp around him from the sweat sheening his skin, constricting and uncomfortable---but the thought of pushing them away is enough to make Leon shiver with the chills that have been relentlessly wracking through him for hours, desperate to absorb any semblance of heat to drive away the cold. The itch of damp sheets against his bare skin is irritating, but he knows that clothes would only make it worse. Leon twists uncomfortably, a moan rising to his lips as the movement tenses his aching muscles, his shoulders and neck throbbing painfully as he tilts his head the slightest bit to the side.

His knees feel like they're being pried apart with rusty steel crowbars when he draws them up to the side, the stretch of stiff muscles at once relieving and agonizing. Even his hands ache, fingertips and wrists pulsing around the joints. His ankles and elbows fare the same, and his hips just can't seem to sit comfortably for longer than a minute or two.

In short, he's miserable, every inch of him feeling like it's been slammed into several walls by an angry army of BOWs despite the fact that he's been home for the past few weeks, working on an R&D project instead of rushing headlong into battle for once. Well, except for today. He'd woken up feeling much worse than he does now---which is saying something, because he's feeling pitiful enough to let himself whimper and curl up in the fetal position---and immediately called for a sick day.

Unable to bear the discomfort for a moment longer, Leon kicks the bedsheets away. It's pure bliss, at first, until his bare chest begins to pebble with goosebumps and he feels the frost return to his bones, and he regrets his hastiness. He coughs, the phlegm in his chest rattling and stinging deep down in his lungs. Shivers.

He tries to pull the blankets back to him with only his feet, but he can't seem to make it work---he's going to need to sit up. Okay, he can do that, right? He did it this morning when he went to the bathroom, he's pretty sure.

The first tensing of his abdominal muscles makes his entire back and sides throb, a groan escaping him as he weakly props himself up on an elbow and fumbles for the blankets at the end of the bed. It takes him a moment longer to draw them back over his trembling body than he'd like, pulled up to his ears just to keep himself from freezing to death in his own home. Everything hurts.

-~-

"Leon?"

The voice rouses him from a restless, uncomfortable sleep, and he groans. A cool hand finds his brow and he can't help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering open to reveal the blurry silhouette of what he thinks must be Piers. He looks worried.

"What," Leon grumbles.

"I got home a few days early," Piers explains, voice hushed. "I tried to phone, but you didn't answer, and I got worried. Figured I'd come check on you, and it seems like a good choice, with a fever like that. How are you feeling?"

Leon thinks. It takes longer than it should for him to pull the thoughts from his cottony, achy brain, but he eventually frowns. "Bad."

"What kind of bad?"

Leon tries to turn his head deeper into Piers' hand and succeeds only in reigniting the pain in his shoulders, taking shallow breaths to try and ride it out. "My body," he rasps. "It all hurts."

Piers tuts, hand sliding up to card through Leon's sweaty hair. It's probably disgusting, but he doesn't seem to mind, and Leon loses himself in the soothing touch. "You just wait here, then," Piers says, pressing a kiss to the side of Leon's forehead. That feels nice. "I'll go get you some water."

He strokes over Leon's hair one last time and stands to leave, pausing to tuck the blankets tighter around Leon's body and helping him adjust to a more comfortable position on the pillow. Leon sighs.

He's still cramping up, but that feels a lot better.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

my lucifer headcanons

note: these are just my own head canons. things i’ve noticed, how i write lucifer, what plays into why i write luce the way i do… etc. purely my own opinion.

- i think michael was very fond of his brother

- when the time came though to listen to dad and fulfill his duty or be a brother to lucifer michael chose duty

- the betrayal is still a sore spot for lucifer

- during lucifer’s “youth” he was curious, always dreaming up incredible creations… it was why he was dads favorite.

- he made the star fish, “because the sea deserves its own stars!” and he also made the duck. the ducks first iteration was quite a bit larger… lucifer and god compromised on a smaller duck. (more like god bribed lucifer.)

- he watched adam be made…. so he was always fond of him and lilith… until he fell in love with lilith…

- he didn’t realize it was love

- but michael knew and michael was scared. so he would draw lucifer away from the garden every chance he got

- lucifer was very naive when he was cast down to hell. he knew so much, he had been alive for so long, but there was so much life experience he didn’t have.

- the first few years in hell were horrible…

- he had hope at first

- maybe it all wouldn’t be so bad

- it was really bad. like really bad. the people who came down to hell were unspeakable devils

- (this is based off a fic i read and i can’t find it, if this rings any bells pls let me know the fic name) but lucifer is continuously appalled and distraught by the atrocities committed in his name.

- it’s one of the reasons he so powerful. he has the angelic power but also the power from those who worship him and make sacrifices for him

he really hates it. a lot. makes him feel no better than the worse overlord (cough alastor cough)

- charlie has no idea and she’ll never know if he can help it

- lucifer smells like apples and vanilla musk, a hint of cinnamon and something floral or citrusy.

- the floral or citrus changes depending on his mood

- he has a huge library. he actually pops up to earth with Asmodeous sometimes and takes books.

- he saved the whole Library of Alexandria’s books before it burned down

- he’s great friends with all the sins

- arguably closest with Beelzebub and Asmodeous

- he loves claw machines. the lights, the sounds, the prize winning???? he’s so fucking happy

- he actually wears glasses to read. he doesn’t need them but he says they make him look smarter.

- is actually a pretty good leader, is not nearly as forgiving as charlie is, but he’s not inherently cruel

- his third favorite color is pink

- his first and second are yellow and red, obviously

- he has expensive ass, maximalist taste.

- he doesn’t use tech because he knows what vox does to said tech.

- he’s always wanted a dog

- he’s very touchy. shows love physically. is only this way if he likes you though

- he has nightmares almost every night

- coffee addict

- because after not sleeping he wakes up looking like death warmed over

- and that’s if he didn’t forget to eat the past few days except for random snacks and didn’t do a 48 hour blitz of staying up working on ducks or the bit of kingdom shit he does.

- he has a handful of servants who he trusts and they are the only one in the house. there’s no team. nothing like that. he keeps it very close

- this was after someone who was a servant tried to throw an angelic dagger at his head because really they wanted to kill him and thought working for him would get them close enough.

- he homeschooled charlie. he knows a lot of stuff and even knew the guy who created calculus!