#I wanting to finish this before work tomorrow

[ijustwannabecool]

Media Day Mayhem

Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader

Summary... What should’ve been a simple twenty-minute press conference turns into full-blown chaos when Charles brings the kids along—and then the kids get their own turn behind the mic.

Warnings: Pure fluff, kid chaos, dad!Charles, teasing, swearing mentioned by children (in French), banter, major secondhand embarrassment

A/N: you guys... the way I had too much fun writing this! I hope you guys enjoy this little story. I would love to actually see a moment like this in the future maybe. That would be iconic. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please let me know what you guys wanna see next!!

If you loved this story and want to support more F1 fics and soft chaos like this, feel free to buy me a matcha 🍵 or reblog/comment to share the love!

As always—happy reading, and have a beautiful day today

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy :)

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩

The press conference was supposed to last twenty minutes. Just a few pre-weekend questions before FP1, some sponsor shoutouts, and a bit of media fluff. Charles had done this a hundred times. Easy.

What he hadn’t done a hundred times was a press conference with all three of his children clinging to him like magnets to a fridge.

“Mila, baby, don’t twist that,” Charles says quietly into his mic, gently removing his daughter’s hand from the cord running down his chest. She’s seated sideways on his lap, twirling the cable like it’s spaghetti. His twin boys, Luca and Jules, are squished on either side of him on the small bench Ferrari provided — all three with messy chestnut curls identical to their father’s.

“Charles, you’ve had a strong start to the season. What would you attribute that to?” a reporter asks.

Charles smiles, glancing down quickly at Luca, who’s trying to sneakily remove one of his shoes.

“Uh—consistency, for sure. And a lot of work with the team during the off-season,” he answers, his voice smooth despite the circus unfolding around him.

“I want to talk!” Jules blurts out, grabbing at the microphone in front of his dad. “I’m fast too!”

“You are very fast,” Charles replies automatically, pressing a quick kiss to his son’s temple as reporters chuckle.

“I beat Mila in the hallway!” Jules announces proudly.

“You cheated!” Mila screeches.

Charles coughs to cover his laugh. “Okay, okay, let’s not yell, we are live on camera, darlings.”

Another journalist attempts to move things along. “Charles, what’s your mindset going into qualifying tomorrow?”

Before he can answer, Luca pipes up: “Papa said the car was ‘a pain in the—’”

Charles snaps his fingers in front of him. “Luca! What did we say about telling secrets?”

Jules leans toward the mic. “Mummy says we can’t say ‘merde’ either.”

Charles hides his face with his hand for a beat as the media room loses it with laughter.

From the wings, you — Y/N — shake your head, arms crossed but clearly amused. Charles glances over at you like please come rescue me, but you're already motioning for the boys to come to you.

“Alright, boys, go with Maman,” Charles says, ushering them off the bench.

“Can we get snacks now?” Mila asks, hopping down and walking backwards toward you.

“Only if you stop tattletelling,” Charles replies sternly.

Jules makes a face as you crouch and hold their hands on either side of you, whispering something that makes them all go quiet and pouty at the same time.

Charles watches for a second longer than he means to—how you always manage to calm them down like magic—before turning back to the mic.

“Apologies. Where were we?”

“Honestly?” one of the reporters grins. “This is better than Drive to Survive.”

Charles laughs. “Welcome to my real full-time job.”

As he tries to finish the final question, he feels a small tug at his pants. Mila has snuck back on stage with her stuffed bunny.

“I forgot Bun-Bun,” she whispers.

He grabs it quickly and hands it to her with a gentle ruffle to her hair. “Okay, allez, go sit with Maman now.”

She nods seriously, then skips off.

Charles clears his throat. “Anyway—thank you all. I think I’m going to go find a quiet corner to cry in now.”

The media room erupts into chuckles again as Charles walks off, applesauce pouch tucked in one hand, baby wipes in the other, and you waiting with a knowing smirk and two giggling little boys tugging at your sleeves.

Charles barely made it three meters off the stage before Mila tugged on his sleeve and declared, “It’s our turn now.” He blinked, confused, until he spotted the row of miniature chairs being set up at the front of the room—and the Ferrari PR team, looking far too pleased with themselves as they waved the kids forward like VIP guests. Jules had already climbed onto one of the seats, Luca was dragging a juice box across the floor like it was part of his media kit, and Mila marched toward the microphone like she’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. Charles stared for a beat, caught between horror and awe.

This was not on the schedule, he thought, eyes narrowing. Whose idea was this? Did Y/N sign off on this? Is this revenge for the broken espresso machine?

He looked toward you for backup, but you were already leaning against the wall, arms crossed and smirking like you’d known this was coming all along. When you caught his eye, you shrugged playfully and whispered, “You survived your press conference. Good luck surviving theirs.”

Charles let out a breath, resigned, and folded his arms across his chest. “Mon Dieu,” he muttered under his breath, watching his children take the stage with terrifying confidence.

Ferrari may build the fastest cars in the world, but nothing moves quicker than my own kids when there’s a microphone involved.

The Ferrari media tent is buzzing with cameras, press badges, and a surprising amount of juice boxes.

——

A journalist clears their throat. “Alright… first question for Mila. What’s it like having a Formula One driver as a papa?”

Mila: “Loud.” Jules: “Fast.” Luca: “Sweaty.”

Everyone bursts into laughter. Mila shrugs. “He yells a lot on the radio. I don’t think he knows we can hear it sometimes.”

Charles covers his face with both hands.

Another reporter tries to keep a straight face. “Jules, if you were in charge of Ferrari, what would you change first?”

Jules (serious): “Make the cars green.”

Luca: “And add rocket launchers!”

Charles chokes.

Mila (disapproving): “That’s not safe. I’d make the suits pink and add glitter so they sparkle on TV.”

Reporter: “What do you think Papa says the most on race day?”

Jules: “Merde.”

Mila: “No! He says ‘focus.’ And ‘where’s my drink?’” Luca: “And ‘WHY ARE THE TYRES GONE?!’”

The room is losing it. Charles is whispering something to Y/N, who is fully crying from laughter.

A hand goes up from a British reporter. “Luca, if you won a race, what would be the first thing you'd do?”

Luca (without hesitation): “Call my mumma.”

Everyone collectively awws—until he adds:

Luca: “And then eat a chocolate croissant the size of my head.”

Mila (muttering): “That already happened.”

Reporter: “Jules, do you like watching the races?”

Jules: “Only the start. Then I get bored and play Hot Wheels.”

Mila: “I watch the whole thing. I have a clipboard and give Papa scores.”

Luca: “She gave him a 6 last time and he almost won.”

Mila: “He messed up the overtake.”

Charles looks wounded.

Final question from a German journalist: “Mila, what advice would you give your Papa before his next race?”

Mila leans into the mic like a pro.

Mila: “Be brave. Go fast. And don’t cuss if the tires fall off.”

Everyone in the room breaks into applause as Charles walks forward, scooping Luca into his arms while Mila and Jules are immediately surrounded by press taking photos and asking for high fives.

Y/N slips a hand into Charles’, her smile wide. “They handled that better than you did.”

Charles grins, eyes still on his little trio. “They’re natural born media drivers.”

——

Back at the hotel that evening, Charles was flat on his back on the couch, eyes closed, two juice box wrappers on his chest. You were sitting cross-legged beside him, flicking through the photos already going viral online—Mila adjusting her mic like a pro, Jules midair off the chair, Luca holding up fingers like he was flashing a gang sign.

“Next time,” Charles murmured, eyes still shut, “we tell them I only have one child. Maybe two, max.”

You smiled, brushing curls from his forehead. “Sure, baby. But admit it… they kind of stole the show.”

He cracked an eye open, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m not even mad.”

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩

[hhoneylemon]

‘cause i lo-lo-love the chase

summary: you finally kiss your best friend after burgers and slushies. he’s ecstatic. 2k words.

inspired by this song and post

mark is sick to his stomach.

he feels like a pervert. every time you hang out, he’s watching you. he watches the way your face lights up as you laugh, how you apply lip balm every now and then, the face you make when you focus on the show playing on the tv.

his crush on you is embarrassing. could he even call it a crush at this point? he’d throw himself in front of a car for you. you probably wouldn’t even feel special if he said that, he’d do that for any civilian to make sure they were safe. feelings suck.

is it enough that he waits when each seance dog episode comes out so he can watch it with you when you’re free? he stays off of social media until then, opting for going flying, studying extra, watching random shows he’s never heard of. the gritting feeling of want and anticipation are almost unbearable. note the word almost; the way you ask him to explain something to you, listening to his dorky ramble, the way you sit side-to-side with him on the couch while watching, the way you give truthful opinions about the episode you’d just watched with him. you make it all worth it.

he loves you. he realized he did a long time ago, then decided to hold that in him and ‘wait for the right time.’ he regrets that sentiment when he watches you go out with other guys, a harsh grip squeezing his heart just to throw it to the ground and stepping on it repeatedly.

at least the relationships never lasted. at least he was always there to pick you back up with a hug and the offer to watch a terrible movie to get over it. it’s never failed to work.

now, mark sits on your bedroom floor as he scribbles down the answers to your current homework assignment. you sit on your bed, hands thrown up as you complain about one of your teachers. he’s only half listening, trying to focus on the work to complete it.

“and she lost the paper, but somehow it’s my fault? now i’m knocked down a whole letter grade because she isn’t good at her job. i literally have a witness who saw me turn it in.”

mark nods in response, finishing his paper. he leans his head back onto your mattress, looking up at you. he offers a dopey grin. you offer a small smile in exchange before sliding off the bed and sitting beside him on the floor.

“sounds shitty. i hope you can do make up work to bring it up.”

“yeah.”

you murmur in response, grunting in annoyance. mark takes a moment to soak your image into his memory. the setting sun is casting a golden glow onto your skin, illuminating and shadowing the right parts of your face. he finds his mouth has gone dry.

“it’s almost dinnertime. you might wanna get home to your mom, mark.”

you twist to face him better, a kind warmth appearing on your face. he nods, almost disappointed. he grabs his school bag, standing with a little grunt of effort. you stand and follow him to your window, unlocking it for him as he slips into the straps of his bag. he smiles at you with a sickening sweetness.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

you nod as he climbs out, watching him with quiet fondness. the way the soft breeze ruffles his hair has you in a chokehold, the puppy-like look on his face as he debates leaving or staying longer in his mind. he hovers off of your room, feet kicked behind his thighs as he looks at you.

“yeah. burger mart, right?”

he grins, nodding. the way his eyes crinkle at the corners has your heart beating a little faster. 

“yep, sounds good. bye!”

mark takes off into the sky. you watch him until you’ve lost sight of him. that’s when you close and lock your window, sitting on your bed and pulling out your phone while waiting until you hear your mom calling you to come eat dinner.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

mark hates his life.

he kept you waiting! he got sidetracked stopping a bank shooting as invincible. he was twenty minutes late as he jogged into burger mart, scanning the tables to try and find you.

you sat alone in a booth in the far corner, sipping on a slushy. he slides into the seat across from you, offering an apologetic look.

“sorry, i was superhero-ing.”

“all good.”

you grin, biting at your bottom lip. a few chuckles escape you as you point at him.

“your, uh, shirt is backwards.”

mark looks down. the pattern of his tee was missing, not to mention the tag sticking out of his collar. he sighs, ears turning red in embarrassment. he then struggles with sliding his arms into his sleeves and turning the shirt around, fixing it. you smile in amusement the whole time, holding back a laugh. he was cute. and a loser.

“ugh. whatever. what do you want to eat, i’ll pay for it.”

your eyes widen at his words, shaking your head.

“you don’t have to, it’s okay.”

you begin standing, only for him to hold up a hand. he rises to his feet and shimmies out of the booth, already pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“no, it’s okay. i don’t mind, really.”

you nibble on your bottom lip, but give in anyways. you tell mark your usual order and he walks to the counter to order. he comes back in a few minutes, an exasperated look on his face.

“i’m so glad i don’t work here anymore. the cashier looked like her life was sucked outta her. i know the feeling.”

you laugh in response, relaxing into the booth. you forgot what it was like to hang out with mark.  it was like a warm hug; comforting and safe, you could tell him anything and he would only mildly judge you, then he would offer terrible advice after.

one of the employees beings over a paper bag that contained your food. the two of you spend a long time chatting in the booth, long after you finish eating. mark only ushers you out after he noticed his old manager had clocked in.

“i wasn’t done my slushy.”

you complain, walking beside him down the street. he offers an apologetic smile.

“we can get one from somewhere else. there’s a 7/11 a few blocks down?”

“sounds good.”

he nods, the two of you falling back into a comfortable silence. you travel downtown, finding the 24 hour store that hides with a few unused buildings. a nail salon sits beside it, currently closed after a villain was thrown through one of the walls. across the street is a parking garage, presumably for the places people work at down the block.

mark grabs your wrist, pulling you into the 7/11 with a laugh.

“what’s so interesting about the parking garage? you scared tether tyrant is hiding in there?”

you playfully roll your eyes, following him to the slushy machine. the blue raspberry is out of order, as always. the revelation makes mark groan and clutch his forehead, as if his two other favorite flavors aren’t in stock.

you grab a medium cup and reach for your favorite flavor, causing his nose to shrivel.

“be adventurous. get the root beer, it’s so good. trust.”

“i will not trust, mark.”

you laugh at him, filling the cup halfway. just to make him smile, you fill the other half with root beer. you get the desired outcome, mark’s face housing a gentle smile as he reaches for his own cup to fill.

when you got to the cashier, he cheated. he murmured something about tether tyrant in the parking garage—of course you looked outside, nervous, as though a superhero wasn’t standing right beside you. you looked back to berate him for tricking you, just to see he’s already paid.

he walks you outside with a grin, sipping from his slushy. you reach over and nudge his shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes. 

“you’re insufferably a gentleman.”

he raises an eyebrow, a his grin turning teasing.

“such big words coming from you.”

you groan and massage your temples with your free hand. he’s such a dork.

the two of you lean against the wall of the 7/11, making small talk as you sip from your slushies. he had gotten mountain dew and cherry, his other two favorites. they stained his tongue a weird shade when he sticks it out at you after you poke fun of him. you smile weakly in turn.

maybe this would be your end. the sunset illuminating his features, him animatedly talking about who knows what, smelling like citrus and mint and something so incredibly mark.

you nervously fiddle with the pockets of your pants as you walk to the nearby trashcan. you throw your cup away before mark’s right at your side, throwing his away as well. his mouth is still moving, though you’ve long lost what he’s been saying. the two of you walk into the parking lot while he continues talking, and them he smiles.

oh, it’s devastating. your heart stutters in your chest. your brain stops working. you do something stupid.

your hands find his cheeks. his eyes widen and his mouth finally stops moving, his cheeks turning pink. you pull him close and your lips meet.

it’s slow, soft. his lips are cold from the slushy. he tastes like mountain dew and cherries. you feel him move, so you open your eyes and part your guys’ lips. mark’s eyes open in confusion, only to widen when you begin laughing.

“oh, mark.”

he’s confused. but, oh, are you shorter than usual? he looks closer and—he’s not even on the ground. his entire face flushes as he touches back down, hands gently resting on your hips.

“god, that’s embarrassing.”

“do i kiss that good? you gonna fly away if i do it again, fly boy?”

he averts his gaze for a moment, shutting his eyes. he can’t believe you’re bullying him over this—

“do it again?”

his eyes fly open and he turns to look at you. your own eyes widen in response, a tad of uncertainty appearing in your eyes and creeping around in your brain.

“shit, sorry. i won’t do it again, sorry, i just—“

mark leans in, lips pressing softly to yours. he gently sighs against you, savoring the flavor of you. he loves root beer.

he pulls away when he needs air, eyes fluttering open to take in the sight of you. you’re beautiful. he smiles big, happiness radiating off of him in waves.

“i can walk you home now.”

“alright.”

you walk beside him, walking the few blocks to get back to your house. he walks you all the way up to tour door before stopping you, grabbing you by the wrist. he offers a gentle smile.

“hey. i hope this means something. like—i can take you out soon?”

a smile hints at your lips. you nod, arms wrapping around his neck.

“sounds good.”

mark leans in and kisses you for a third time that night. this time, his lips can’t help but form a smile. he can’t help if he lifts off the ground again, either. he also can’t help that he brought you up with him, slowly spinning the two of you together.

he drops back down, thumbs gently rubbing against the flesh of your hips. his forehead finds yours as he bites his bottom lip.

“same time on friday?”

you snort, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“sure thing, fly boy.”

masterlist

[frflyavenue]

Exam Stress - Yungi Ver.

Pairing: stressed!fem!reader x boyfriend!Yungi

Warnings: MDNI (18+), stressed afab reader, sleep deprived and frustrated reader, university student reader, poly relationship, fingering, oral (f receiving), double penetration (both holes), anal, vaginal penetration, kissing, swearing, needy reader, tears, lap riding, praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, princess), unprotected sex (please be safe), cuddling, soft doms Yungi

Authors note: Hey guys, I’m back after a brief hiatus! Honestly I had no plans of taking a break, but between work, school, and getting sick twice in the last few weeks, I didn’t really have much of a choice. Under Your Touch chapter 3 is currently almost finished, and I have plans to upload that on time tomorrow to get back with my normal schedule. Sorry again for the unexpected break, I promise I have a lot in store for you all now that I’m back! Much love! Bisous~

WC: 5.2k

You sit at your desk, biting the inside of your cheek and twirling your pen between your fingers as you stare down at your textbook. Exams are in only a few weeks, and you’ve spent so many days staring at this stupid textbook that you think you’re about to lose your mind. You’re low on sleep, which definitely doesn’t help, and your back hurts from sitting rigid in the same stupid desk chair for days straight with very few breaks. And you’re hungry, which you know is likely contributing heavily to your current frustration, but you don’t feel like getting up to make something to eat, so you make no effort to go cook.

You’re kind of doing this to yourself.

Maybe it’s this part that’s frustrating you the most.

You don’t have to study this hard just to stay top of your class. Getting a B grade is still passing, after all. Now that you’re an adult, your parents aren’t on your ass about your grades, but you’ve taken their place on being hard on yourself. You are the one paying for your own schooling. Wait, why are you spending so much money to get an education? To make the world a better place? Please, what is staring at this textbook gonna do? Why are you so stupid? Why can’t you just be a prodigy that doesn’t have to study, just like some of the other students in your major? What the fuck is the point of all this?

You slam your textbook shut, sighing in frustration and standing up from your chair, not caring to be graceful as you swinging your office door open and walk toward your living room with heavy feet.

Yunho and Mingi have been working half days all week, meaning they’ve been getting home just after lunch and hang out at your shared apartment. Usually, it would be a blessing, meaning you could spend time with your boyfriends, go on little dates, and go to bed with them next to you. But this week, you’ve been the one they’ve been waiting on. They understand, of course, being workaholics themselves. But you can’t deny that it’s been driving you crazy hearing them laugh or even fuck in the room next to you, all without you.

Normally you wouldn’t care, of course. You’re always happy that your boyfriends can feel good together, encouraging them to help each other out whenever they need, especially since they’re away from you at work so often. But this week… maybe it's just boredom, or maybe just the stress, but you’ve wanted nothing more than to just forget your responsibilities and join them.

Not seeing them in the living room, you turn around and march over to your shared bedroom, swinging the door open impatiently. Mingi and Yunho are propped up next to each other in bed, covered by blankets and watching a movie on a laptop placed on both of their laps. They look up at you in surprise, Yunho pressing the spacebar to pause the movie. Mingi’s eyes are wide as he unintentionally flashes you his puppy eyes, and while your heart skips a beat, you don’t fold for him like you usually would.

You walk over to Yunho’s side of the bed, picking up the laptop and snapping it shut before clumsily putting it on his nightstand. You crawl onto the bed, caging Yunho in between your limbs and blinking down at him with intense eyes.

He blinks up at you in confusion for a second, but before he’s able to question you, you’re crashing your lips against his.

He lets out a surprised yelp, and Mingi gives a shocked, breathy laugh from next to you. You groan impatiently, poking your tongue out and pushing it into his lips, begging for entrance. Finally regaining his composure, Yunho cups your face in his hands, pulling you back.

“Woah, woah, calm down baby!” Yunho laughs out, shocked and now red in the face. “What’s gotten into you?”

You clench your jaw, swallowing and sitting back on your heels letting your butt plop down on his thighs. You run a frustrated hand through your hair, huffing and pursing your lips. “Dammit… I’m… I’m upset.” You admit, trying to calm down.

They just blink for a second, and you see genuine confusion on their faces, though it quickly molds into concern. Mingi reaches out his hand and places it gently on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Why are you upset, princess?”

You pause, surprised at how gentle he’s being despite your outburst, and you take a deep breath. “I’ve been doing school work all week, and I’ve done every single possible review I could think of, yet I’m still performing poorly on practice tests. So then I don’t get much sleep so I can keep studying, but now I’m just tired and still doing bad. I have no time to sleep, eat, even take a proper shower… so now I’m exhausted, hungry, my hair is greasy, and I’m so frustrated.”

The two men swallow, their eyes concerned but their soothing hands calm on your thighs and your sides. Mingi, usually the better of the two at assessing emotions in situations like this, speaks up. “Okay baby. Why don’t we get something to eat, and then we can talk this out, hm?”

You immediately shake your head, huffing again and nearly going off on another tangent. Yunho cups your jaw and clicks his tongue, trying to hide the fact that he’s smiling at how cute you look when you’re pouting. “No, don’t get mad now. Tell us what you want, Y/N.”

You swallow, blushing slightly. In spite of your frustration, you can’t help but feel embarrassed at how irrational you’re acting. Mingi seems to notice, and he shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. What do you need, princess?”

You look down at your lap, squeezing Mingi’s hand that’s still resting on your thigh and fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m really frustrated… can you help me?”

Yunho tilts his head, confused but trying hard to understand. Mingi, however, snickers. “Of course, baby! Do you want some help studying? Or would you like us to make you some food…?” Mingi starts laughing harder at Yunho’s innocent confusion, shaking his head. You blush, lightly smacking his hand. He tuts, calming his giggles and leaning forward, lowering his voice.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Tell your boyfriends what you want. Use your words.”

You shiver, shyly tilting your head down. His fingers immediately move to tilt your head back up, forcing you to look at them. Yunho’s face tells you that he’s already caught on, but he says nothing aloud, letting it all play out. You whimper.

“P-please… f-fuck me? I need you…”

Their eyes immediately darken, and you feel your heart start to race. You know that look.

Yunho leans forward, pulling you forward so you’re straddling his waist with your groins pressed together. “Oh, I see. Our princess is needy?” His voice is deeper, sweet like honey and soft like silk.

Mingi chuckles. “No need to be shy, baby. Your boys will pound that stress right out of you.”

Yunho doesn’t move right away—just watches you with those deep, unreadable eyes, like he’s trying to decide whether to scold you or devour you. His hand brushes your hair back gently, fingers grazing your temple, and you melt into the touch in spite of yourself.

“You really let yourself get this stressed out baby?” He scolds, tucking your hair back. “Silly girl, stressing yourself out when we’ve been right here for you the whole time.”

You glance down again, cheeks warm.

“You could have told us, princess.” Mingi interjects, his voice low and gravelly. He rests his hand on the bare skin of your waist, just under the hem of your shirt. “You know we’ll do anything for you. Even if that’s just working off some frustration for a while.”

You whine softly, torn between frustration and need. Mingi tilts his head, his lustful eyes never losing a drop of love. “Use your words, sweetheart.” He purrs, his rough voice soothing the itch of your arousal just right. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You meet his eyes and then Yunho’s, biting your lip. “I’m overwhelmed.” You admit, your voice no louder than a whisper. “I don’t want to think anymore.”

“Then don’t,” Yunho replies simply. “Let us handle all the thinking for now, hm? Your job is just to lay back and take it.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine at his words, his words suddenly feeling more dominant. Mingi’s lips twitch up at the familiar tone of voice, his gaze loving and heavy on yours.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat, and Mingi shifts to sit on his knees, leaning closer to you and pressing a soft kiss just below your ear. He nips at the soft lobe, and you just barely flinch at the sensitive feeling.

“Gentle,” Yunho suddenly murmurs, stern yet still soft as he addresses Mingi. “She’s not feeling too well right now.”

“You don’t need to be gentle,” you interject, whispery voice cracking. “I just need you to touch me.”

They both briefly glance at your face, seeing without a doubt that you’re absolutely serious. That’s all it takes.

Yunho exhales slowly, as if attempting to regain his composure. He sits up straighter so your chests are pressed together, one of his steady hands resting on the back of your neck. “We’ll take care of you, but only if you’re good for us.” He whispers out, his breath hot and gentle as it tickles your lips from the proximity. “Understand?”

Your head bobs automatically. Mingi leans in to kiss your shoulder, and you’ve never wished your shirt was off so bad.

You whimper, shifting in Yunho’s lap, and he chuckles, velvety and dangerous. “God, you’re so needy already, aren’t you?” He remarks, his tone laced with desire. He pokes his lip out, baby talking. “That’s what stress does to our pretty girl, huh? You’re already soaked, aren’t you babe?”

Mingi nips at your neck, then licks the sting away. The cool sensation of his breath on the wet skin makes you shiver. “I told you she was touch-starved. Our poor baby.”

Yunho tsks softly and grips your chin, solidifying your gaze on him. “You want to stop thinking for a little while? Let us do it for you?”

You nod again, only slightly due to the restrictive hold on your chin. Yunho smiles, and while you can’t see Mingi, you feel him smirk against your neck.

”Good girl.”

Yunho leans forward just enough to close the distance between you, letting his lips brush against yours—barely there, teasing—before he finally presses in and kisses you properly, slow but firm as he savors the way you melt into his touch. His hand moves to stroke your jaw as you moan into his mouth, keeping you grounded.

Mingi shifts behind you, his warm hands slipping just under the hem of your shirt again. He gently teases there for a moment while he watches Yunho work his magic, before reverently lifting the fabric inch by inch, peeling it over your head. He leans forward and kisses your neck softly, trailing down your shoulder and smiling against your skin as he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

“God, Yunho, look at her,” he murmurs, voice scratchy and laced with love. “Beautiful.”

Yunho pulls back just enough to let his eyes wander, dragging his gaze over your flushed face, the outline of your breasts through your bra, your thighs beginning to tremble. “Mhm. Beautiful. And all ours.”

Your shorts are next, and they come off more quickly, Mingi’s patience thinning as he pulls you off of Yunho’s lap and lays you back against the pillows. His hands run down the length of your legs, eyes raking over every inch of exposed skin.

Yunho watches you, towering next to you and still fully clothed as he kneels at your side to press a kiss to your temple. His hand snakes around to your back to unhook your bra, gently easing it off of you, his fingertips brushing over your bare shoulders. Mingi takes the liberty of sliding your panties down your thighs, tossing it next to the bed without any regard for neatness.

Letting his kisses trail down behind your ear and towards your collarbone, Yunho breathes hotly against your skin. “There you are, princess. Stay still for us hon, we’ll take care of you.”

You feel your ears warm up at the sudden warmth in his tone, but have no time to relish in it as Mingi settles between your legs, palms spreading your thighs apart. You whimper at the feeling of his breath hot against your core—close, but not yet touching. Mingi chuckles.

“Let me warm you up, baby,” he whispers, breathy voice dripping with anticipation. He turns his head to press a kiss to your thigh, sucking on the soft flesh there he adores so much. Content with the mark he left there, he turns his head to look at you. He gently spreads your lips apart with his fingers, groaning at the sight. “You’re already this wet for me? Damn, princess… I haven’t even started.”

You whimper at the feeling of the cold air hitting your slick folds, tensing your thighs. Yunho continues kissing your collarbone, giving you barely visible marks there as Mingi gets you worked up.

Without warning, he gently licks up your folds, slow and methodical as he tongues your entrance and hums at the taste. You gasp and reach up to tangle your fingers in Yunho’s hair for support, arching your back. Mingi chuckles and splays his strong hand out flat on your tummy, gently holding you down to keep your hips from lifting from the bed. He slurps up your dripping love juices like a man starved, until he eventually has to pull away for breath. “Fuck, you taste so good, Y/N.” He groans, panting.

Yunho smiles against your skin in agreement, trailing his kisses down to your chest while Mingi catches his breath. He gently rests his lips over one of your soft nipples, reaching up to sensually palm the other one in his large hand. He hums at the sensation, his tongue licking flat strips over the peaks of your breasts as he deeply sucks on the flesh there. You sigh contentedly, comforted by the nice sensation.

Mingi takes the opportunity to return to your pussy, the tip of his tongue brushing over your clit. You gasp, sparks of pleasure shooting up through your core as he circles his tongue around the bud without any pressure, simply ghosting his tongue around you in spirals. Too needy to handle the teasing, you let out an involuntary whine, squirming under the palm still resting on your belly.

”Look at you… squirming like that,” he moans, swallowing the taste of you on his tongue. “What do you need, baby?”

Yunho gently rolls your nipple between his teeth, and you gasp, struggling to form coherent thoughts. “M-more, sir, p-please.”

Mingi can’t help himself from involuntarily twitching, bucking his hips into the mattress at the nickname. Yunho chuckles, pulling back just for a moment to praise you. “Such a good girl.”

You get impossibly warmer and squeeze your thighs together in response, earning a light slap on the thigh from Mingi. “Keep those pretty legs open, yeah? Let me take care of this messy little pussy.”

You spread your thighs obediently, humming as Mingi’s hands return to your body—one back to rest over your uterus, the other hooking up under your thigh and gripping it tight. The latter pulls you to grind up into his face, pressing your sensitive clit onto his flattened tongue, pulling a moan out of you. Mingi smiles, leaning forward to gently suck your clit, lips wrapped tight around the bundle of nerves as he continues to help you grind against him. All the while, Yunho continues kissing the soft flesh of your breasts, almost more in an attempt to keep you grounded than to tease you as he runs his hands up and down your sides.

It doesn’t take long before Mingi releases his grip on your thigh, coating his middle finger in your body’s natural lubricant. Tongue still flicking against your clit in slow, rhythmic motions, he slides his long thick finger inside of you, curling it upward just right. That alone is enough to bring you to the edge. You throw your head back, mouth hung open as Yunho flicks his tongue against your now erect nipples, your back arching into Mingi’s tongue. .

“Mingi, feel how she’s shaking?” Yunho purrs, leaning down to pat his head. “You got her so close already.”

Mingi doesn’t relent, too turned on by the way you’re writhing under them. “Mhm…”

Yunho slips one hand down to rest over your mound, fingers sliding down to feel Mingi’s mouth at work on you. He bites his lip at the sensation of the other man’s tongue accidentally licking his fingers with his sloppy tongue on your pussy, finding the whole thing erotic. “Come for us, baby,” he whispers, his own voice slightly strained. “Let us see how much you need this.”

They don’t need to ask you twice. You let your body tense up, desperately bucking your hips downward into Mingi’s tongue and moaning at each curl of his fingers inside you. Yunho praises you erotically while you let it build, and although you can’t hear what he’s saying, the tone of his once is exactly what you need to get over the edge.

The sudden warmth in your core peaks, forcing you to gasp, lifting your hips and throwing your head back into the pillows. “Mingi! A-ah~/!”

His tongue doesn’t stop, just lapping up your juices and sucking on your clit to help you ride it out, prolonging your orgasm as long as he can. By the time you finally come down, Mingi has sat up, licking his lips to savor your taste. Lips still glistening, he turns to Yunho with a dazed look. “She’s ready,” he proclaims, his voice low and hoarse. “But I’m not gonna last if I don’t calm down first.”

Yunho grins at him, dark and knowing, before turning to gently brush your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek. “You take a second to calm down while Mingi and I get prepped, okay princess?”

You nod.

“Good girl. You have permission to stretch yourself out with your fingers if you feel empty.”

With that, he turns to face Mingi, sitting on his knees in front of him and cupping his cheek. “Your lips are so swollen, Mingi.” He teases, though his tone is gentle. Mingi smirks.

“Wanna taste?”

Yunho huffs out a laugh, leaning forward and capturing Mingi’s lips in a deep, slow kiss, tasting you on his tongue like it’s the best thing he’s ever tried. Mingi lets out a low sound, hands sliding up Yunho’s chest as they kiss.

Yunho, slightly more composed, leans forward, trailing a teasing hand down his side before firmly grabbing Mingi’s erection through his pants. Mingi hisses through his teeth, but Yunho just smiles into his lips, stroking him slow and letting him roll his hips into it while they kiss.

“Breathe, Mingi,” Yunho murmurs into his mouth. “You’re too worked up.”

Mingi nods unashamedly, his eyes dark and hazy. “She’s too fucking delicious, Yun.” He thrusts up against Yunho’s palm. “Our baby’s so good.”

Yunho nods, agreeing with him as he tastes you on Mingi’s lips. He pulls away, unbuttoning Mingi’s pants and pulling his underwear down, letting the pretty, hard cock spring free from the waistband. He spits into his palm before wrapping it gently around Mingi, stroking him properly now—slow and controlled. Mingi leans forward and braces his forehead on Yunho’s shoulder, his hand rubbing Yunho’s chest through his t-shirt.

It takes a while, but once Yunho has gotten Mingi to calm down enough to stop trembling, he glances back at you. He smiles at the sight of you with three of your fingers swallowed up as far as you can reach into your pussy, eagerly stretching yourself out while you watch your boys pleasure each other. Mingi licks his lips at the pornographic way your fingers scissor your entrance open, your flushed face tense in concentration.

“You ready, baby?” Yunho asks, voice thick and sweet like honey.

Mingi, flushed and breathless but steady again, moves to kneel behind you, his hands gliding up your sides. “You’ll take Yunho in the front,” he explains, tone soft but scratchy. “And then, if you’re up for it, I can stretch you out in the back?

You nod, wanting desperately for any thoughts to be fucked right out of your head.

Yunho sits up with his back against the headboard, taking his cock out of his pants and letting Mingi helpfully set you on his lap. You straddle your legs around his waist, your dripping core just centimeters away from his length. Yunho is probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen. While Mingi rather big in size and particularly thick—perfect to fuck you fast and hard—Yunho is long and slightly more slender, helping him to make love to you slow and deep. It’s a perfect combination, truly, and the thought of both of them stuffing your holes all at once after so long of being apart…you’re about to lose your mind.

You don’t even attempt to hide your staring, poking down at the angry pink tip of Yunho’s beautiful dick as it springs up between the two of you, grinding on Yunho’s thighs. Yunho chuckles, pulling you in closer to him, with your entrance hovering just above his length.

“You’ve got it baby, slide yourself down onto it…that—ah—that’s it…”

You moan as you ease yourself down onto him, only managing to take half of him at first and whimpering each time he pushes a little deeper. Mingi rubs gentle circles against your back, watching with wonder as you sink all the way back down into Yunho’s lap, this time full with him inside you.

“Yunho..” you whimper, gripping his shoulders tight as he finally bottoms out. “F-feels so good.”

Yunho pants from the pleasure and chuckles fondly, finding your expression adorable. The two of them give you a moment to adjust, gifting you reassuring touches every second, not wanting their hands to be anywhere but on you. Reluctantly, Mingi eventually pulls away, though only to grab the bottle of lube from his bedside table. He squeezes it onto the tip of his middle finger before positioning himself to sit comfortably behind your just able to lean forward and kiss your shoulders if he needs to.

You try your best to relax your body as Mingi lifts your ass up a bit to see your pretty little hole, having done this enough times by now to know the procedure. You lift your hips to give him access, wincing at the coldness of the lube as he rubs it over your entrance.

Yunho catches the way your brows pinch together as Mingi rubs slow, deliberate circles around your hole. Noticing your discomfort, he slides his hand down to helpfully rub circles into your clit with his thumb, watching Mingi’s fingers at work.

“There you go baby… let him in slowly,” he murmurs, his thumb providing a slow, firm rhythm against you. “You’re doing so well already.”

Mingi’s voice hums low behind you, breathless with restraint. “God, you’re so soft. You always take me so good, baby. Just relax for me…”

You let out a small gasp when his finger slips in, coated thick with lube, his other hand steady on your hip as he works you open. He’s careful, attentive—massaging the tight muscle while Yunho coaxes your arousal forward. One finger becomes two, then a subtle twist of his wrist, stretching you slowly. The tension in your thighs trembles, but you feel your body beginning to yield.

“She’s getting there,” Mingi mutters, awe in his voice. “So fuckin’ tight.”

Yunho watches your face for every flicker of discomfort or pleasure, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Tell us when you’re ready, love.”

You immediately give a desperate nod, gripping Yunho’s shoulders tight. “I-I need it now… please…”

Mingi doesn’t hesitate to gently slide his fingers out of you, his ears and neck red with anticipation as he sits up and lubes up his now desperately needy cock.

Yunho chuckles at his eagerness and leans in to kiss your jaw, gently cupping your cheek with one hand. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. You’re about to be so full.”

You nod, bracing yourself with both hands on Yunho’s reliable shoulders as Mingi lines himself up at your entrance. You hold your breath, trying your best to relax your muscles as he applies a bit of pressure, fighting with your stubborn hole for entry. You whimper at the extent of the burn, before suddenly the thick, bulbous head of his cock slips inside.

Tears immediately fill your eyes at the stretch, the feeling of two cocks at once only making it sting more for the moment. Your lip quivers, and Yunho leans forward to softly kiss the corner of your mouth.

“That’s it… you’ve got it baby.” Yunho purrs, reassuring you to keep you grounded. “You’re such a good girl, taking your two big boys at once, hm?”

You nod for him, tears falling as Mingi pushes in deeper. Yunho easily brushes them away with his thumbs, cupping both cheeks in his hands and keeping your eyes on his loving face to keep you from panicking. You’re eternally grateful that these two men know you so well—you really have no doubt in your mind that they love you so, SO much.

The second the tip of Mingi’s length brushes against your prostate, you clench around them both, drawing moans out of all three of you. Almost all of the stinging pain from before is gone now that he’s reached that magical spot, and you collapse forward onto Yunho’s chest at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Oh my- god, that feels good,” you cry out, your voice strained with the sensation. “M-more? Please?”

Yunho and Mingi glimpse at each other with knowing smiles, each rubbing their hands up and down different areas of your soft, bare skin.

“Not yet, princess,” Mingi murmurs, careful. “We don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, okay?”

You nearly argue that they could literally do nothing to hurt you at the moment, but the pleasure is so overwhelming that you can’t even get the words out.

Yunho gently grips your hips, rocking you slowly forward on both of them. You let out a pleasured whimper, continuing to grind in gradual rocking motions while Mingi carefully begins to thrust into you, matching your pace.

“Hnn… F-faster please..?”

“Listen to you…” Mingi grunts out, unable to control himself. “Filled to the fucking brim and still begging for more…”

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Yunho’s neck and resting your forehead on his shoulder, panting heavily now. He reaches a comforting hand up to rub your back, turning his head to kiss your temple.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N.” He whispers, combing his fingers through your hair with gentle strokes. “Such a good girl.”

You hug him tighter, the praise raising goosebumps along your skin. Mingi leans forward, moving just slightly faster and resting his nose in the crook of your neck, hugging your from behind. It’s intense having the both of them inside you, of course. But when you’re resting on both of their laps, two pairs of strong arms wrapped around you while they take care of you, it’s just so warm.

Yunho and Mingi are SAFE.

You sniffle, hiccuping and letting your tears fall onto Yunho’s bare shoulder. He simply cups your cheeks, making you look him in the eyes while he wipes your cheeks free of tears, his eyes looking at you with so much love. You lean forward, your voice cracking from pleasure and the overwhelming feeling of desire in your belly. “I love you…”

Yunho’s face gets impossibly softer, his hands brushing your hair back out of your face. Mingi lets his hands rest on your waist, gently dragging your hips back and forth still.

“We love you too, sweetheart,” Mingi murmurs into your shoulder, his voice low and rough.

Yunho’s smooth voice provides a pleasing contrast. “Our baby…”

You simply whimper in response, your hips twitching. It just feels so good to be here with them… it’s the most fulfilled you’ve felt in months.

Mingi, unable to stop himself, bucks his hips suddenly, eliciting a moan from you at the sudden intensity. Yunho’s eyes dart up and he opens his mouth to scold the other man, but your pleas interrupt him.

“Oh, baby…”

Mingi smirks at Yunho proudly, beginning to move more consistently now. Yunho, while a bit more patient than Mingi, does still have a limit, and he finds himself beginning to do the same.

With the two of them, there’s literally no end to the stimulation. Mingi thrusts into you, and as soon as he pulls back, Yunho pushes in, giving you no break before new sparks of pleasure reach your core. You have no more control over what sounds escape your parted lips, your nails digging into Yunho’s shoulders as he grunts from the sensation.

Mingi keep his grip on your hips steady as the two of them increase their pace together, and almost immediately Yunho slips his hand between your legs and rubs his thumb firmly against your throbbing clit. That’s all it takes to send you barreling over the edge, your holes clenching tight around both of theirs as you scream out a jumbled version of both of their names.

Mingi whispers praises into your shoulder while you ride it out, and Yunho simply groans and speeds up, no longer able to help himself as his whimpers grow into higher whines. Still panting as you come down from your climax, you rock faster on them, encouraging them to reach their own. It doesn’t take long before Mingi gives one final grunt as.he buries himself deep inside you, and only a few pumps later Yunho joins them. You continue your rocking, helping them through it and gasping at the sensation of two warm loads filling you up.

Mingi rests his head on your shoulder with his arms around your waist, his warm breath tickling your bare skin as he pants to catch his breath. Meanwhile, you use your position higher up on Yunho’s lap to your advantage, gently tucking the taller man’s head under your chin and holding him there, close to your chest. The three of you stay just like this for a while, not saying a word—the warmth of the embrace saying enough.

Right now exams don’t matter. Nor does the stress of life, of school, of work… all that matters is them. Them, them, them… and you.

That’s what’s important—and you promise yourself to never forget that again.

[kizusof]

hello, i really like how you characterize anaxa in your posts about him! as a request, may i ask for anaxa being protective or fussy about the reader's health and safety? thank you!

3 new rules

— Anaxagoras x reader

You were working on your lab, researching about chimeras because while you were out with Anaxagoras, you had found a chimera that looks exactly like him. You thought it was adorable, but it gave you an idea. You wanted to find a chimera that looked exactly like you, but it never happened.

So now you’re in a laboratory, staring at a poor chimera as it looks at you with big eyes. Your stomach growls, you’ve forgotten about lunch. Usually, you have lunch with your boyfriend, Anaxagoras, but you seemed to have forgotten to reply to his message that was asking you about lunch, you messaged him back, despite being 3 hours late.

“Im sorry for the late reply, I got busy with the chimera research I told you about. We can have lunch together tomorrow.”

You set the phone down to look at the chimera once again, your phone dings.

“Have you eaten?” You can hear his stern voice as you read his message.

“Not yet. I will in a bit.”

He liked your reply. You turned your phone off again as you went back to your research on how to create a chimera that looks exactly like you.

But hours went by, You didn’t mean to stay for more than 30 minutes but now another 3 hours passed by and you hear your doorbell ring. It took you by surprise and as you were playing around with the potions, you accidentally dropped one on the floor, glass shards stabbing your foot. You wince in pain as you sat on the floor to observe your foot.

Anaxagoras invited himself inside out of worry from hearing you in pain, He looked at you sitting on the floor with glass shards all over before looking at the set up infront of him, a sleeping chimera and papers everywhere filled with pictures of chimeras. He sighed as he picked you up, helping you sit on the couch as he looked at your foot.

“I wonder what happened.” he said in a tone recognizable to you, he didn’t exactly sound genuine, sarcasm written all over it.

You try to laugh it off but it ended in awkward silence.

.

.

.

Your stomach growls.

You looked at him, embarrassed. He paused from saving your foot to look at you.

“I must have forgotten to eat…”

“nn.. accident.. happens…. you know?”

You didn’t even try to laugh it off this time after you saw him stand up and look at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Be glad I got us dinner then.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

You watched him as he walked to grab a bag with food, handing it to you.

“I haven’t, I’ll eat later. Start eating.” He says as he finishes up your foot. His voice was stern and strict, it was scary in a way. You obeyed and started eating, you were extremely hungry anyway.

Once you finished your food, you walked up to him as you watched him clean your lab. You call out to him and he glanced at you.

“Why are you up? does your foot not hurt? Sit back down.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much…“ you mumbled, but he could still hear you.

“Did you finish the food?”

“I did. It was delicious, thank you.”

The couple was met with silence again until you heard him sigh loudly

“Is this really worth starving for?” He faces the pieces of paper on your table.

“Yes! I want to own a chimera that looks exactly like me.”

You heard him sigh again.

“Let’s create new rules for you to follow.” You look at him in confusion. “Rule number 1, don’t forget to eat. Rule number 2, be more cautious. Don’t drop anything that can harm you, and Rule number 3, don’t overwork yourself. Understood?”

As you listened to the rules, you stare at him in disbelief. “Shouldn’t you be following your own rules? Especially the last one.”

“I created these rules for you. Don’t bring me into this.”

You continued to stare at him, blinking a few times before jumping on him giving him a warm embrace.

“What a caring boyfriend I have! so demanding and fussy.”

“A good partner would care for their significant other. This is only natural.”

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow it too. I won’t skip meals, I won’t accidentally harm myself, and I won’t overwork myself.”

He gives you a hum, as a sign of agreement. but you weren’t quite sure if he really promised to it.

You two eventually got to bed as you occasionally looked at your foot. You sigh as you sleep through the pain, having him take care of your foot for a few days.

a/n : sorry if this doesn’t reach your expectations . . .. I wasn’t quite sure how to approach this but i got something done! he worries but we worry for him too! he’s a concerning man after all. also did not proofread .. yet….. haha.. i will … soon.. ALSO! might be ooc like i said before.. ive been avoiding the quests like theres no tomorrow so i dont exactly have the full image of what hes really like.. im basing his character off of what i know and all the spoilers ive read. + my personal hcs !!!!!

[kinabinaxoxo]

♡♡♡ Reward ♡♡♡

Sevika x Reader ٩(^ᗜ^ )

Feminine reader. Dick appointment. Obsessed Sevika. Squirting, Fingering, Oral. She doesn't really talk much in this one more of a performer tehe. Kinda rushed ngl :) kinda proof-read. Hope you enjoy toodles mwah. MNDI

Paint nails Go to bank Grocery shopping Finish report for big meeting tmrw Do laundry FOLD laundry Clean around apartment Put away dishes Take a shower If you finish give yourself a reward ;)

"Finally" you say to yourself placing down your notepad and pen while looking over to read the time.

7:03 p.m.

A reward would be nice after spending the whole day tending to your apartment, running errands, and dreading having to go back to work tomorrow.

You reach for your phone sending a quick text before continuing back to what you were doing. No point in wasting time considering how early it was. Plus you have a meeting to attend tomorrow morning.

The sweet scent of a vanilla and marshmallows candle fills your apartment with its aroma as you sit at your vanity rubbing lotion and light oil over your soft skin.

“Ugghh I hate Sunday nights” you say to yourself as you finish rubbing lotion on your legs.

You go to your bed to put on your pajamas. A simple set. Light pink tank top with a small white bow between your breasts and shorts to match.

Turning on the TV you decide to watch your favorite show at the moment to pass the time by.

1 hour later *Knock* Knock* Knock*

Opening the door its Sevika standing there as expected with flowers.

"Awww Sev you didn't have to" you take the flowers from her while reaching for Sevika's hand to pull her into your apartment as she closes the door with her foot.

Sevika actually knows you don't like when she shows up empty handed but yet you act surprised every time. She thinks it's cute plus she enjoys buying you things not expecting nothing in return. To her your presence is enough but Sevika knows why she's here tonight.

Dragging Sevika into the kitchen you grab some scissors and begin to trim your flowers. Sevika stands behind you watching. Admiring you.

Sevika also loves your apartment. Everything about it reminds her of you. It's cozy, cute, and always smells good just like you. To her it feels like it's another way of being inside you.

Grabbing a vase you fill it with water and put flowers in there. You head over to your dining table that's where you decided to put it as Sevika trails behind you.

You reach over placing them down.

“Thank you for the flowers baby"

You turned around to face her. Sevika was hot on your tail already so there’s not much space between you two.

Those grey eyes staring into yours. Eager to get the night started but she's patient.

"My pleasure angel."

Sevika hand makes it way to your lower back bringing you closer.

Your hands snake up to her neck pulling her down wanting a taste of her. A fresh woody musk with a hint of smoke fills your nose. You love it every single time, it's so intoxicating.

Your heated bodies pressed together just as y’all lips meet fitting together like puzzle pieces. You could taste the liquor she had probably not that long ago.

You feel Sevika's hands make their way down gripping your ass before lifting you, immediately you wrap them around her waist.

Breaking the kiss you work your way down to her neck, gently sucking and nibbling as she walks towards your bedroom.

Over to the bed she places you down on your back. Standing back up she begins removing articles of clothing. You lay there and watch.

Tossing her clothes to the side and now back in between your legs grabbing them. Now with one on her shoulder as she's caressing the other.

Sevika begins placing kisses on you starting at your feet down to your knees down to your thighs and finally to your pussy. Kneeling down she lightly kisses on her through your shorts.

She rubs your pussy feeling how wet you are even through the fabric of your shorts.

A low moan escapes your lips as she teases you. However you grow more impatient ready to be drilled into the mattress.

"Hurry up and fuck me Sev" you slightly yelled and pouted.

Just like a dog she listens. She loves your little attitudes.

Sevika smirks while reaching for the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them to the side of the room.

Her tongue gliding up and down your wet pussy then roughly sucking on your clit switching between the two.

It felt so good as your hand reaches her head. Your fingers now intertwined with her hair lightly massaging it.

"Fu-uuck Sevika" you throw your head back, back arching off the bed.

She has your legs pushed back, knees to your shoulders with a firm grip on your thighs.

Her low hums causes vibrations to your pussy enough to make you crazy and a moaning mess.

Bucking your hips into her mouth as you get closer to cumming. Sevika adds two fingers inside you immediately receiving a reaction.

Moaning out "Just like that baby yesss"

Whimpers leaving your lips as you squirm under her touch.

Sevika picks up the pace with her fingers twisting them in and out of you as if she's in a hurry for you to cum all over here face.

"mmmhhahhh right there right there"

You begin to grind against her face and fingers feeling the pressure build up in your stomach before letting out a cry of pleasure.

"Ugghh im cumming" you breath out releasing it all on Sevika

Not an issue for her as she's already licking it all up and cleaning you up with her tongue. Making her way back up to kiss you as she she rubs her cock up and down your pussy tapping it on your clit.

You whimper into Sevika's mouth as your body twitches since your clit is now sensitive.

She pulls away lining her cock with your hole staring at your pussy.

Sevika loves your pussy. How it taste, how pretty it is, how wet you get, how good it feels being inside you, the wet sounds, the warmth of it. When it clenches around her fingers.

She slides her cock into you causing you to wince a little, happens every time. Sevika slowly goes back and forth until you adjust to her size.

"Fuck me Sevy."

Picking up speed giving you what you want holding you by your ankles.

Missionary is her favorite.

This way she gets to see all the good angles of you. All the faces you make, your tits bouncing from the pounding she's giving you, and gets to kiss you as much as she wants.

Pants, moans, and sticky wet sounds fills the room.

You reach up pulling her down into a kiss as Sevika never loses her rhythm.

Sevika starts to rub you clit with her thumb causing to depart from the kiss and moan into her mouth.

“Ugghh you fill me up so good baby” you moan out

Sevika lowers her head to your neck sucking on it leaving marks. Next, your breasts. Taking turns with the both of them. Sucking and nibbling on one while kneading the other like its dough.

Her main focus is pleasing you....like always but she strives for better each time. As if she'll never have another chance.

Removing her thumb from your sensitive clit she guides it into your mouth. Taking it in your mouth you suck on it staring into her eyes.

"You are so fucking sexy" Sevika says as that turned her on even more. It motivates her to fuck you into the mattress.

Going even faster now you throw your head back as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The knot in your stomach coming even faster now.

You let out moan after moan cry after cry. As now its getting to much to handle.

You're a squirming mess trying to get out of Sevika's hold but she has a good grip on you. Another reason why she loves this position, she's more in control.

"Aww what's wrong mama?" Sevika asks plowing into you.

You're too out of it to respond her all you can do is moan as a response.

"You gonna cum for me baby? huh?"

Her words send butterflies to your stomach mixing with the tight knot in your lower stomach.

"nnghhyyessss" is all you manage to let out.

"Then cum for baby"

Without a second thought you squirt all over Sevika lower half leaving a big mess underneath you. The intense feeling in your stomach is now gone as you let out small whimpers closing off your climax.

You turn on your side now worn out. You feel the bed dip in on both sides of you. Looking up you see Sevika hovering, both hands on each side of the bed.

"You can handle one more right?" She questioned as she's sliding in you again.

As she begins picking up the pace you reach your hand to her lower stomach slightly pushing against her.

She takes that as a chance to grab your arm and pin it behind your back. Going twice the speed it makes you wonder where all this energy came from.

"Shit s-slow down" you cry out the feeling overwhelming

"Cmon baby take it like a good girl."

Sevika watches as your ass bounces off of her. Clapping and squelchy sounds fills the room as your moan gets louder and her thrusts rougher.

You eventually started to fuck her back, throwing your ass on her wanting more as the pleasurable feeling started to come back.

She stops and let you take over. Enjoying the view. Fucking you from the side like this.

"That's my pretty girl"

Leaning over Sevika places her lips on yours as you place your hand onto the back of her neck.

You smile in-between the kiss. Thinking to yourself,

"The best reward"

[jman14102-blog]

Danse Macabre

An art piece I commissioned from @leafinqxi of a scene from an upcoming story I'm writing. They were fast, patient, and excellent to work with! I definitely recommend them! Thank you again for bringing to life O and Cyn, and the beginnings of what will eventually become the world's most toxic relationship.

The gramophone cranked to life, the music groaning and moaning until it was fully up to speed, filling the room with a sweeping, cascading song.

O winced as he turned, knees locking as he performed an exaggerated bow with his singular arm, winking, "May I have this dance, miss?"

Cyn's head rocked to the side, crooked little body shuddering under the change in balance. She was quiet for a moment, but then she moved, that ever-present smile unchanging as she shuffled forward, "Polite curtsy. Yes, you may."

They half-stumbled, half-walked into the center of the room as the crescendo in the song gave way to a woman's voice, every word, every note carrying with it a haunting, forlorn longing.

The maid's tiny hand found his and stretched outwards with it. Her head tilted forward and bumped off his chest, and a short laugh was his reply. She didn't pull away, instead pressing against him, rising on tiptoes, other hand trailing up, fingers searching, twitching with a nervous energy as they grazed against his shoulder. She couldn't reach, instead settling for gathering a balled up wad of fabric between her fingers. Her head drifted up, tilting slightly, eyes blinking, "I have never. Danced. Like this before. Big Brother is usually. Too. Busy. To teach me."

He looked down at her, a smile, an actual smile present there, as he gently but firmly guided them across the floor, "Well, that's a shame. Everyone here should know at least the basics. Turn with me, please?"

O twisted his hand, beginning to turn. Cyn released his jacket, maintaining her grip as he pulled her into a slow, halting spin. It was spastic, unsure, stumbling feet and disjointed knees dragging what should have been a graceful move into something ugly. She nearly fell twice, but O would stop moving each time and allow her to recover. He let her lead.

"Don't feel bad." He whispered, "Practice makes perfect."

Her spin finished, and Cyn tried to hide the flush lines on her visor as she replaced her hand on his jacket a little too quickly.

"Sheepish. Expression." She mumbled, legs quivering, her head turned to the side and pressed against his chest, "Much to learn. Yes."

They continued on like that. Slow and meandering. Their moves were clumsy, halting, neither of their bodies cut out for something this elegant, but still they danced. The earnestness, the want to drift among the moonlit shadows, guided their steps regardless. Any mistakes, any slips or stepped-on shoes, were quickly forgotten amid nervous giggles and the soaring music.

For the bespectacled maid drone and curious human girl watching through a crack in the door, it was absurdly cute. Something they'd spend the rest of the night gossiping about, snickering and smiling.

For the broken butler and the mangled maid, however, nothing changed. Time stretched on, and eventually their dancing was little more than the two of them turning in slow, simple circles. Both of her hands were now pinned to his jacket, his singular arm wrapped gently around her. Cyn's head was nestled gently against his core, feeling the electric thrum through her audials, eyes focused somewhere far away, smiling. O's head rested atop her's, chin squishing down the extravagant bow, eyes shut with a lazy grin.

"Another lesson tomorrow?" He sighed, breath ruffling her hair, her bow, "You have me now. Plenty of time for lessons."

Her smile grew, her hold tightened, she nuzzled further against his core, absorbing the warmth, the faint scent of oil, the tingle of electrodes and circuits. Her eyes glinted in the dim light.

"Yes." She said, and something vaguely resembling a symbol flickered across her visor for a split-second, so fast that none could have noticed. Her grip tightened further, refusing to let go, "I do have you now."

[fall0utmind]

Dovquez 20

on ao3 here - enjoy

November 2027.

Marc knows that he should be happy. He has everything he could ever want in life: a successful career, friends and family who love him, ten world championships in the sport he loves, and, supposedly, a loving partner.

But said loving partner is acting weird, and it’s setting Marc on edge.

He can’t pinpoint when it started. Just that at some point he began to notice that Dovi was acting differently - more skittish and sometimes even distant. It was so unlike anything Marc had seen from Andrea.  At first, he thought maybe he had done something to upset him, missed a birthday or said something stupid which fucked things up. It wouldn’t be the first time. But usually, it was brought up and set right fairly quickly. This time, Marc tried to get Dovi to talk about it to no avail. The other man constantly reassured he was ‘okay’, and then continued acting strangely.

Marc still can’t understand why.

They've been together three years. Three unbelievably happy years which saw Marc reach unprecedented levels of success. Since the whole situation in 2024, things have been easier in the sport. Marc now has more support on the grid, having cultivated actual friendships with the likes of the academy boys and some of the youngsters who are advancing through the ranks. Moving to Ducati had relit Marc’s ambitions; the team provided him with a bike capable of winning championships, so Marc did just that. Dovi followed him across the world, at his side throughout it all. His support was warm and loving - he never once complained. He wasn’t jealous or bitter. Dovi was the perfect partner, who held him high after success and sat with him in sadness or anger when things went wrong.

It doesn’t make any sense. Marc counts his lucky stars every morning and says I love you every night before bed, even when they’re arguing. They have the ideal relationship. They always communicate well and try their best to be understanding. it’s one thing Marc loves about them. Even when they’re having a spat.

 (“Why can’t we paint the walls blue?” “It doesn’t match the rest of the house.” “Not everything can be greyscale, Marc”)

They always eventually work it out. They set aside time to discuss things for god’s sake.

(“Fine, we can do it blue, but I’m picking out the shade. And we’ll have to put blue in other places. Maybe some new furniture or art”. “Thank you, I love you”)

So, Marc is confused. There isn’t a second that passes when he isn’t overwhelmingly worried about Dovi’s sudden change. It’s like the older man is keeping secrets, hiding something from Marc. He tries not to think about it too much. He still has a season to finish, and although the championship is wrapped up, he would rather not fuck up the last races.

Yet Marc flinches every time Dovi’s face shutters, every time he mutters a half assed excuse for where he’s been. And, it hurts. More than anything. Marc was so sure that they had something good. He thought they were forever. But now he isn’t so convinced.  

It comes to a head in Portugal. Marc has late meetings at the track on Friday night, discussing some last-minute tuning on the bike, mainly for Pecco’s sake, before qualifying tomorrow. His teammate is still fighting for p2 in the championship, desperately trying to get the bike under his control so that he can collect as many points as possible before Valencia.

(Marc will win the race, so Pecco can only hope for P2)

When they are eventually dismissed, he and Pecco quietly walk back to the motorhomes together. It is a strange routine they have found as teammates, but Marc relishes it every time. They wish each other goodnight and part ways once they reach the red Ducati section; Marc knows that Pecco will most likely disappear to the Honda section, to Luca, soon after. They have a sweet relationship, the quiet and steady kind that seems unbreakable.

Marc frowns at Pecco’s receding figure before shaking himself out of it and unlocking his door. He creeps back into his motorhome soundlessly, worried that Dovi might be in bed already.

Instead, he hears his boyfriend's distinctive voice from the bedroom, muttering in rapid-fire Italian. Marc assumes that he is on the phone, he doesn’t know who to – can’t work out who it would be at this time in the evening.

Marc is about to call out, but something stops him. The motorhome is small, and Dovi is loud enough to fill the space, meaning that Marc can hear every word.

“No, no, Saturday next week. Yes. Please. Don’t tell Marc, okay? I don’t want him to be suspicious”

Marc freezes.

“Okay, yes, yes-”

Marc stops listening. He turns on the spot and escapes the suddenly suffocating room. It is a miracle that he gets out without running into something or sending an object clattering to the floor, but he manages to. Marc holds his breath until the door shuts softly behind him and he can inhale a lungful of the cold night air. Then he flees, leaving the motorhome and Dovi far behind him.

Blood rushes in his ears. He feels sick.

He can’t help the way his brain leaps to the worst. What else is he meant to do?

Marc knew something was wrong. He had asked and asked. It got to the point where he thought he was going crazy.

He isn’t sure what to do next, so he does the only suitable thing.

He googles it.

“What do you do if you think your partner is cheating?” he types, blinking rapidly against the burning in his eyes.

The internet does not help him.

The most popular answer is to confront your partner, which isn’t really his prerogative. Marc isn’t a shy guy, but the thought of talking to Dovi terrifies him. What if he’s wrong and Dovi breaks up with him for the insinuation? What if he’s right and he has to listen to Dovi say that he’s found someone new, someone better?

Marc feels distraught.

Maybe he could just ignore it?

But every day that passes makes him feel more stressed, his fingers itching to reach out and pull Dovi back from wherever he’s gone. To have his attention again.

Marc puts his phone away and walks further from the motorhomes, even though it’s late. Numbness spreads through his bones, drowning out his sense of the world. He automatically meanders to the track and finds comfort in the asphalt under his trainers.

It is only once he’s out there that the pounding in his ears diminishes and his thoughts slow. His face is wet. He furiously scrubs his cheeks, rubbing away the tears.

Is he not good enough for Dovi? He thinks. Has it finally caught up to him that Marc isn’t worth his time, his effort?

Marc knows he isn’t always the best partner. He gets it. He’s stubborn and reckless and, frankly, an absolute idiot sometimes. He’s childish and silly, whilst Dovi seems so adult.

Dovi always lectures him about safety. He always says that he loves Marc to bits, but thinks he will give him a heart attack one day. Marc wonders if he’s had enough of lecturing, enough fear.

Marc has always pushed and pushed, until it falls apart. He has learnt how to put things back together and try again – his bike, his body, his heart, his life. He can’t do that with a relationship.

He wonders if he is too broken for Dovi, too bruised and battered. His heart sinks.

There are footsteps not far away, he shrinks into himself. It is too dark to make out a figure, but Marc knows he is not alone.

“Marc?”

Valentino's voice, recognisable anywhere. Marc squints into the darkness, picking out his lanky frame.

He sighs. Vale moves closer - Marc can decipher his face now, pinched in concern.

They are cordial these days, friends perhaps. Not close, but enough that they talk, much to the delight of most fans. Marc is happy that there is no animosity between them; secretly, he feels too old to cope with that. It was awkward to begin with, but now they seem to get on fine.  Forgiveness was not easy. But Marc thinks he’s got there.

“Vale, I was just going back.”

Valentino looks unconvinced; he frowns at Marc but doesn’t comment.

“What are you doing? Are you ok?” Valentino queries.

Marc shrugs, plays it off, “I could ask you the same” 

Valentino’s answering look is shrewd; he sighs, his shoulders slumping in acceptance.

“Too antsy. It’s Luca's highest start in years, and there are rumours about where you’ll be going next year. I don’t blame you, of course, but I do not want him to lose his seat. We both know the importance of these races for him,” Valentino admits.

Marc blinks, shocked by such a candidate admission. Of course, he knows all about Luca’s seat. He also knows it's safe, because although Marc will be going back to Honda eventually, it will not be Luca’s seat he's taking. He can’t say that to Vale.

He just nods.

For a fleeting moment, he worries that he made the wrong decision years ago. He pushes the thought away.

“Your turn”, Valentino urges.

Marc shakes his head.

“It’s nothing. Just paranoid. Some things are difficult right now.”

“Dovi?” Valentino asks, not even trying to be mild about it.

Marc grimaces and nods.

“You want to talk about it?” the older man asks. Marc’s jaw almost hits the ground. Valentino has never tried to engage with Marc much beyond civility. This feels huge.

Sometimes, he wonders what life would be like if he and Vale had never fallen out, or if he hadn’t picked Dovi. Different, he thinks. Not necessarily good.

Marc doesn’t want to talk to anyone about this. He shakes his head slowly.

Valentino nods, seemingly unsurprised.

“That man would move mountains for you. Don’t worry too much, he would do anything not to lose you, and he isn’t stupid enough to do anything else.”

Marc clears his throat, awkward now. Suddenly, he feels exhausted and just wants to sleep. He nods at Vale's words, thanks him and begins his slow shuffle back to the motorhome.

Marc tries not to think too much about Valentino as he leaves the lone shadowy figure in the dark of the racetrack.

Dovi is in bed when he gets back.

“You're late,” he calls,

Marc tries to smile. It falls flat.

“Data for quali, they don’t want Pecco to lose to Bezzecchi.” He replies, his brain elsewhere.

Dovi kisses his cheek, draws him in.

“What’s wrong, you’re somewhere else tonight”, he asks.

Marc opens his mouth, then clicks his jaw shut. He looks away and then pulls Dovi into a heated kiss. He hopes the other man doesn’t notice the way his hands grip his shoulders like a lifeline, begging him to stay. Marc tries to push everything into the kiss, all his love and devotion. As if he could kiss Dovi hard enough to make this all go away or to make him want to stay.

He pulls away softly and hides his face.

“Let’s go to bed”

They don’t say much else, but Marc stares at the ceiling until the early hours, contemplating how his life has got to this point.

*

Two days after the championship finishes, they fly to the Caribbean. Dovi was insistent this year, said he wanted to go back. Marc didn’t complain.

Things haven’t gotten much better. If anything, Dovi seems to have become more nervous, weirder. He jumps when Marc enters a room, and is definitely hiding something on his phone. Marc has been too miserable to even consider confronting Dovi or calling it quits. Just one more break, he tells himself – one more slice of paradise and then he’ll end it, or work it out. Something. Anything.

Things are almost normal as they arrive in the Dominican Republic.

They have booked an incredibly pleasant resort, right on the edge of one of the most exclusive parts of the island. Their villa is spacious and bright, complete with its own pool. They have a cart to get down to the beach, which borders the most beautiful turquoise sea, straight out of a postcard. The sun is hot, and for moments at a time, Marc can convince himself that they are happy: as they stroll hand in hand down the beach front or when Dovi snaps candid pictures of him beaming at the camera, about to go for a swim in the midday sun. They eat gorgeous food, laugh, soak up the sun, and make love to each other.

Marc feels like he’s pretending.

It gets worse at the end of the third day.

Marc calls Alex in a fit of panic, almost in tears. Dovi has become even more distant, constantly checking his phone and running off at random times. He swears that something is up; he feels like he’s going crazy. They’re having fun, sure. But it isn’t right, there is something that Marc is missing.

Alex picks up after three rings.

“Marc?” he asks, curious and concerned.

“Alex. God”, Marc breaths. His voice breaks.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think he’s cheating on me, and I don’t know what to do. At first, I thought I was imagining it or going crazy but there’s just too many things now and I feel like it’s breaking me apart trying to pretend that everything is okay when he is so clearly hiding something from me – but- but – I love him so much and I don’t want him to leave me and I just wish I had the answers and instead I am so confused and it hurts. So much”

It comes out in a tumble of words, like a dam has been broken. His breath catches in his throat as he chokes on the syllables. Afterwards, he listens to his brother’s even breaths, waiting for a response.

Alex sighs, “Have you spoken to him?”

“No…”

“Marc, do you trust me?” “Of course”, Marc answers, before the worst word falls from Alex’s lips.

“Okay, I need you to have confidence in me here. It is all going to be okay. I trust Andrea, he is a good man. I am sure whatever is going on is just a misunderstanding, yes? He loves you so much, Marc. I know it. Maybe he is feeling the same way? Hm? Just try to enjoy your time there and we can talk more when you are back, yes?”

Marc breathes. It isn’t the answer he wanted, but he trusts his brother with his life. He reluctantly agrees and sets his sights on acting normal once he returns to Dovi on the balcony.

*

24 hours later, Dovi is leading Marc down the beach front, his eyes screwed shut as the sun sets on the horizon.

Marc’s skin is aglow, golden against the white sand and aquamarine sea as Dovi nudges him into position.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Marc asks, ever inpatient.

Dovi laughs, “Yes, mi amor”

Marc opens his eyes and gasps.

They’re standing on the beachfront in a heart drawn on the sand, facing the horizon shoulder to shoulder. It has been a beautiful day, and the sky is clear as the evening light paints the sky hues of crimson and vivid oranges, with brush strokes of rose. The few clouds which litter the skyline are ablaze in a golden glow, giving the whole place an ethereal feeling. The crystal ocean mirrors the heavens, with radiant colours that flare across the serene surface, broken only by the peaks of gilded waves.

Marc is mesmerised.

He reaches for Dovi’s hand and squeezes.

For the first time in weeks, his mind is quiet.

Marc doesn’t notice Dovi loosening his grip and letting go of his hand. He doesn’t consider how they are the only people on the beach, or how conveniently picky Dovi had been over Marc’s outfit this evening.

He blinks at the rich scene, finally noticing the absence of a warm grasp.

Marc turns.

His jaw drops.

There, in the sand, on a beach in the Caribbean, is Dovi, on one knee, a ring box clutched in his hands as he stares at Marc in wonder.

“Marc. I have loved you for enough of my life to know that there will never be anyone else like you. Every day is the happiest day of my life as long as you’re by my side. Every breath you take fills me with life, every tear you shed rips me apart, and every success raises me. I want to walk by your side for the rest of eternity. I want you to piss me off and scare the crap out of me and make me laugh every single day until we are both old.”

He chokes off on a watery laugh.

Marc can feel the tears in his eyes, his hand has come up involuntarily to cover his mouth in shock. Suddenly, a lot of things are falling into place – the secrets, the phone calls, the nervousness. Dovi wasn’t cheating on Marc; he was too busy stressing about planning a proposal.

“Marc. It is the greatest pleasure in the world to wake up beside you. You are the most beautiful, funny, charming, ridiculous, brave, and strong person I know. I wish there were a way that I could repay you for all you have done for me. I love you endlessly, no matter what. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

It starts to sink in then, for Marc. He realises that this is truly happening. The tears spill down his cheeks, and he sinks to his knees beside Dovi, drawing his partner into a deep kiss, full of love and promise. Marc pulls away, smiling so widely that his cheeks ache. He looks at Dovi – takes in the face of the man that he loves – his kind eyes and crow's feet. His heart sings in joy. It is the easiest yes of Marc’s life

*Cut scene *

“Alex, you BASTARD, you knew?”

[paulinet]

For the sake of breaking a habit

Warnings: fluff, kisses, gn reader, ooc Medicine Pocket, Medicine Pocket - they/them.

Synopsis: Your lips are in a terrible state, and no amount of hygienic lipstick can save them. It's a habit that's hard to break without someone's help, right?

World count: ≈1700

From the author: Well, something uncomplicated before something complicated. I wanted something like this: soft, streamlined, and enticing.

When I have more of my story's, I'll compile them into a little masterlist.

English not my first language!

Enjoy reading!

We all know nervousness, right?

Nervous when you are working on a gigantic project, on which you spend all your energy and time. You get nervous when you present this project in front of dozens (if not hundreds) of people, explain every aspect of it, and then nervously rub the edges of the sheets in your hands and wait and wait and wait. Approval, a nod, a wave of the hand, anything to take away the aching pain under your ribs.

But you're not afraid of these people, no.

But you worry about your work as a part of yourself. Here, you have taken something from your soul, from the depths of your mind, and you put it all together in a presentation and present it to the big people. Funding for almost any project, you know, hurts you enough if it doesn't come from somewhere else.

The habit of biting your lips came quite suddenly that you didn't even realize your lips had turned into chewed mincemeat.

All of a sudden you found out that they started hurting. And when you looked in the mirror, you were stunned and wondered, when did it get so bad?

You put the stack of sheets aside, sit back in your chair, and finally let yourself relax. This day hadn't been too hard compared to the other days, when you'd been working hard to clear out the backlog of reports, but you were still exhausted.

It's after midnight and there's about three of you left here. You and two other subordinates finishing their work.

There was no need to stay so long, but man, you wanted to finish most of the stuff for tomorrow (because there will obviously be more tomorrow).

The muffled knock of the door opening into the half-empty lab didn't even make you turn around. Few interesting people would have come in this late, at most one of the other workers ran in to say "hey, idiots, it's past midnight, let's go to bed already!" Same questions for him, of course.

"Well, how long are you going to stay here?!"

Oh, right. There's a person of interest, and that person is welcome to drop by anytime.

"Sprawled out in the chair and now she's going to sleep here. Shouldn't you move the bed over here right away?" — you sigh when Medicine Pocket sit down next to you, only on the desk, disrupting your careful arrangement of papers. Ouch.

"I'm not going to sleep in here. But you're right, my strength is almost gone," — you hear the sound of sheets of paper shattering and frown. "You've ruined my meticulously organized stack of papers according to all canons of perfectionism."

"Oh, yeah? It was an accident."

"Sure you did."

You don't even turn your head away from the ceiling to pay attention to them. Not to say they don't like it, but it does make they worry.

"How many hours have you been sleeping these past few days?"

"I am a creature in no need of sleep."

"I don't think Lovecraft would praise you for parodying some of his creatures."

You laugh.

"I'm trying to get 6-8 hours of sleep..." — their face seems to lighten, but resentment catches up again in seconds. "... In 2 hours. It's not working yet, heh."

They're clearly not happy with your answer. And who would like to find out that their partner has suddenly decided to adopt their lifestyle and also sleep less than a giraffe or a horse, not even close to the numbers needed to maintain strength in the body?

"Like a child, for God's sake."

"What about you?"

"Well, you have to admit, I look a lot better after a few days without sleep than you do."

"You're such a romantic."

"But honest."

"Uh-huh."

The conversation is interrupted while their interest is piqued by your face, because over the past few days you've started to look like a person with a less than healthy lifestyle. Not a junkie, but on the right track. It's time to look for jokes on the subject and appropriate cosmetics.

Especially their eyes ran over the bags under your eyes. Goths would be jealous that you don't have to work hard on your makeup - they'll take you in, and praise you for being in character.

And their gaze stopped at your lips. And it lingered until you stared back at them in puzzlement.

Awkward pause.

"What, is there something on my face?"

"Your face looks more like a mask from the movie Scream right now. And what the hell happened to your lips?"

Oh. You have forgotten about them for the duration of your work, but they always remind you of them afterwards. On a brief inspection of you, people can't tell that your lips are suffering from a meat grater or a meat mallet. It's only when they catch your eye for a long time that you realize that things are just awful.

That's what nervousness brings people to.

"I don't know."

"How do you not know what you're doing? Are you using or something?"

"No, it's just a bad habit I picked up out of nowhere."

"You can't get rid of it? Or is it out of your hands?"

"I don't notice when I start doing it. It's fine in the morning, by the end of the day it's like kissing a grater."

"Nerves are fraying?"

"Along with the cuckoo, I suppose."

They don't say anything to that, which you can't tell by their facial expressions.

Annoyed. Again.

But instead of grumbling, silence follows. A brief hiccup before they climb off the table and hover over you in a chair. Their venomous eyes prickle you, and before you can make any sound, they take your chin and kiss you.

You don't even manage to squeak. As usual.

The feeling of fatigue was replaced by the anticipation and excitement of an unexpected kiss. And more than one. Your consciousness focused on every fleeting sensation, every tiny movement of your bodies.

Their lips are always wet. Wet and thin, like two strings, curved in irritation or sickness from something poisoning they've eaten. Cold, they leave a herd of goosebumps behind them if they kiss hotter parts of your bodies, and never warm up no matter how many times they kiss. Even after a hundred kisses before bed or in the morning. But that doesn't stop them from being persistent and not at all shy of outsiders you've already forgotten about.

They don't close their eyes most of the time, and today is one of them.

Staring point-blank, as if they were preparing to fire a gun at some animal and aiming without being distracted by extraneous sounds. In the light their eyes are like two Ilyich bulbs, and even in the darkness they will stand out with their sparkles. And they've never been embarrassed by it.

On the contrary, they like to place bets on which minute of the kiss you will avert your eyes. And it's very annoying and fun for you at the same time. It's like stepping on the same rake every time because you like it.

Their lips, although thin, are very assertive. They do not hesitate to take the initiative and apply more diverse actions. They have a different way of kissing every time, you can never guess what was intended for this time. They savor your already killed lips, push forward, don't give you a chance to get out of the situation and turn your head.

The fingers in white gloves encircle your chin and do not let you move, holding you firmly, but in their own gentle way, not forgetting to change the position of your fingers from time to time.

You hear your own heart pounding when all they has to do is run their tongue over your lips. Here's someone, but Medicine Pocket, after much practice, have gotten much deeper into kissing. And now they'll bet anything just to see the ripples of burning excitement on your face again.

They're so mean when they need something. So untouchable, but in need of that little act of appeasement. Screaming audacity in every action. You know you'll be in drool and hickeys (later) afterward, but you reach your hands behind their nape and use your fingers to part the strands of their hair.

They take it as a call and, most importantly, as a permission to take further steps.

And somehow, you know, it doesn't matter that somewhere out there the laboratory door opens and one of your coworker leaves (perhaps he couldn't stand the unexpected sexual pressure. You can understand him).

And you look away, unable to take the pressure anymore.

They love it. They love it to the point of shaking at their knees.

Like to tease you and pull you out of your frames, Medicine are happy to break them against their knee and toss them into the dark sea, to the bottom, where already lies a whole collection of what they have stepped over with indescribable pleasure. They bite your bottom lip with a mocking smile before you feel their other hand on your waist.

Under your lab coat.

And they slowly moves upward, their fingertips tweaking the fabric of the garment underneath. Carefully as they continue to run the other limb down your neck, squeezing it lightly. They're not sadistic, no, by any means, and it doesn't rob you of even a crumb of air, but the feel of long, slender fingers leaves you no choice but to succumb completely to their power. Which, by the way, they always have plenty of.

Hot breath scorches your face as they pull away - the air isn't infinite, after all - and leave a weightless kiss on your cheekbone with a sarcastic smirk and squinted eyes as if to scream "you just can't say you didn't like it."

They don't seem to be tired at all, and the air in their lungs never planned to be released, but you've been there before - once they didn't let you go for so long that you got dizzy. No, not from magical sensations, but from lack of oxygen. They've been trying to be careful ever since.

You breathe deeply, massaging the back of their neck with your fingers. They love that, especially when kissing. It makes them go crazy.

And they respond by weightlessly stroking your waist, sometimes squeezing it lightly.

But now they just slightly arch their head back before dropping their arms to the sides of your chair and moving closer again. Just a little more, and their knee will be between your legs for balance.

"I'd rather you didn't bite your lips anymore, but that's a buzz too," — they give out in one breath, still relaxed under your hands. "Your lips aren't lips, they're chewed up duct tape."

You take a deep breath. You try to keep a serious face, as if the job didn't end hours ago. Like it would have been possible to keep working if someone hadn't decided to show off and go on a "distract at all costs" mission. Who wants to be caught thinking, breath hitched just because of the person next to you who just kissed you with all the passion they're been saving up lately?

"Pff, what, so disgusting?"

"Mm-m, no, quite the opposite. 'Almost' as good as always," — they flick you on the nose, and curve up in a smile. "But you'd better not bite your lips again."

"Why would I?"

"If you want to kick the habit, you need to switch to something else, something safer."

"On you, or what?"

"You're guessing," — Medicine Pocket pull away with a noisy sigh. You cross your arms across your chest and pretend you don't want to continue. "You're going to get some kind of infection - and then what are you going to do? I'm not going to treat you."

"..."

You puff up your cheeks and don't say anything. Still in mixed feelings, it's hard to think as well as move. Your body still feels their touch at your waist. It's hard to let go.

It's hot, isn't it?

"You need to get better sleep. Otherwise you'll look like a pale grebe"

"Thanks."

"But honestly," — they shrug. They take you by the chin again and examine your swollen lips more closely. "I've got some ointment somewhere that's just right for this."

"...Can I have some?"

Not for nothing. Of course they won't give you anything for a simple thank you. Especially not to you.

And you can see their facial expressions become more condescending. You guess you're in luck.

"I will. On one condition."

Oh, right. Of course.

"And what's that?"

They poke their thumb at your lips.

"You stop biting them. And start control yourself."

Expected. But did they think it would be so easy?

"And what happens if I can't kick the habit? I don't control myself when I'm nervous."

They let you go, take a couple steps away, and spread their hands as if they're really upset about it too.

"Then don't expect me to kiss you again."

...

One second of silence.

And you burst out laughing.

"Ha-ha, can you contain yourself?"

"Let's just say it's a challenge for me, too."

Yeah, a challenge.

You roll your eyes tiredly. You know they're lying.

You know they'll break their promise tonight before they go to bed.

And yet you still listen. As if nervousness is nothing. It's just a little thing.

They're such idiots.

"Either..." — they lean closer and give you another slap on the nose. "...Remember this situation every time. What's better: biting and tearing your lips in cold, nervous, rotten loneliness or making out with a gorgeous person like me who loves and cares for you, you stupid lip-biting lover, huh?"

"...I'm gonna take that damn book of poetry away from you and throw it away, you've learned to talk too pretty."

They turn on their heels, starting to walk back towards the exit and make no response to the sarcastic comment.

"Think about it!"

And they hide behind the door.

You sighed, going back to cleaning up the mess on the table and floor. The papers were all scattered, and they hadn't even bothered to clean up after themselves. Well, nothing-nothing, you know how to retaliate terribly, he-he.

You stack the paper in an even, aesthetically correct stack and place it on the edge of your desk.

And then you meet the gaze of your remaining coworker.

...

Spark. Lightning... And the anticipation of a lump in your throat of shame.

Words cannot convey the shame and embarrassment on your part, and you just nod her and pretend that paper is the most interesting material on Earth. The best of the best. She walks by, pausing for a moment near the table, shrugging timidly.

"I'd agree to kick the habit if I were you."

And quickly retreats toward the exit. The lab is quiet and peaceful now, with only the occasional beeping of devices.

And suddenly you realize she's heard everything.

All the conversations, including...

...

You cover your burning face with your hands.

How much you love and hate that Doggo.

I already know I'm gonna need a couple days to rest. Well, you know, it's not like I'm an English-speaking person, and it takes me about... 3-5 hours? To edit this or that text and not to lose the meaning of each sentence (I just don't want to present everything in a horrible state I'm a perfectionist a bit).

That's why I post something once a week, you know, so I have enough energy to recover and +- enough energy to write something new. At least I try.

I will definitely post part 4 after «Love jinx» and part 2 «Bonus for waiting», it's just that right now they are in... A little bit in a stupor. I'm working on them, but I'm not really happy with what I'm getting. Plus I have more ideas lying around that I'd like to do, ahem, well, I'm working, just slowly...

Dividers by @petalpxl

Thanks for reading!

[xoxodropletsneedsmorefanfics]

Imagine Jeremy Braiding Your Hair…

I really wanted to write a long Jeremy fic and have it posted today, but I had a final to take and then I spent most of the day studying for tomorrow’s final. College sucks 😔. DONT THEY KNOW ITS ONE OF MY HUSBANDS BIRTHDAY?!

Enjoy this short thing instead

Sigh.

What was he doing?

How did he let you convince him to do this?

Jeremy’s hands are slow and unsure as he gently parts through your hair. It was still moist from the shower you just took just a few minutes ago. “Jerebear, what are you so scared of? If you do something wrong, it’ll hurt me, not you.” You chuckle, “Um, that’s what I’m worried about. Believe or not I’d actually prefer not to cause you any pain.” Jeremy sighs. “Aw, you do care~” You coo, he lifts his hands away from your hair when you tilt your head back to look at him.

“Still, you’re stressing yourself out for nothing. I’ve seen you braid your own hair and as doofy as you look doing it, the finished product is always amazing.” You tell him, Jeremy starts to feel sticky under your honey sweet gaze. He adjust your head to face forward again, his pale cheeks becoming a soft pink. Jeremy sighs and gets back to work, despite your support, Jeremy’s movement remain awkward and stiff.

You hum slightly, immediately growing bored of the short silence, “Have you ever braided anyone else’s hair?” You asks “No.” Jeremy answers the second the question left your lips. It was like he knew you were going to ask at some point. Then again, you also already knew what his response would be. Jeremy continues, “No one else has ever asked me to braid their hair. And even if they did, I would’ve said no. Do you know how many germs are in a person’s scalp? Do you know how common lice is? How much flaking a scalp can do?” Jeremy asks, shuddering with each reminder of how truly disgusting a person’s scalp can be.

“What about Pran’s hair? It’s long and majestic. You’ve never wanted to braid your best friend’s hair?” You ask, Jeremy scoffs, “Yeah, he’s my best friend, so I know better than anyone how poorly kept his hair is.” He states, “Wait, seriously? Lynn told me that all the way back in high school. I can get angsty teen Pran not wanting to take care of his hair, but not adult Pran. How is his hair so long and pretty if he doesn’t even take care of it?” You chuckle with a bewildered smile.

Jeremy shrugs, “He has good genes. That’s the one thing his parents ever did for him.” He says, he finally guides his hands through your hair. And after 30 minutes of prep, it was completely painless. “Well, I’m glad this is another first of yours that I get the honor of claiming.” You snicker, Jeremy lets out a groan, but a smile worms its way into his face.

The two of you…talk.

About your day, about plans the two of you made for tomorrow…

All while Jeremy is braiding your—admittedly soft, clean hair.

Jeremy mind trails away from whatever nonsense you’re rambling about. This is…nice.

Soon, 20 minutes turned into an hour, and your words were starting to make less and less sense before coming to a stop.

“There. Done.” Jeremy announces quietly. You eagerly stand up, heading to a mirror to see the finish product, he takes a moment to look at your braid. It was in two simple braids, but he felt…happy. When he was younger, he never thought it’d be possible, but he is happy. Jeremy lets out a sigh, “Never asked me to do this again.” He says, leaning against the door frame. You let out a loud scoff, “No promises! I might just ask you to do this every time I wash my hair! Man, I always look amazing—but I look even better than before!” You laugh happily.

Jeremy’s smile is small and affectionate, silently accepting that braiding your hair was just going to be a part of his life now.

Not that he really had a problem with it.

[d-does-art]

Ace with the Straw Hats!

I'm slowly making my way through them all.

[beets]

baby, bi bi bi

[kizusof]

Hi! Hope I'm not too late

Anaxa and reader relaxing in his office while they finish up some work? Can go as you want, I just want fluff 🌸🌸

The date

— Anaxagoras x reader

You two had planned to go on a date today, you haven’t had gone on a date with him for a really long while so you were excited for this day to happen. Until the aeons cursed you to be busy this day, you were tasked with more and more paperwork than usual so you had to go home holding stacks of paper you needed to do.

You apologized to your dear boyfriend multiple times on the phone to which he understood and decided to reschedule the date two weeks later.

When you went home, you immediately went to your personal office, holding the stacks of paper and completely ignoring Anaxagoras when he greeted you a warm welcome.

A little while later, he knocks at your door, welcoming himself in. “You have to finish all of that tonight? That’s alot.” you tiredly face him “no.. I can still pass this tomorrow morning but I think i’d rather sleep late and wake up late than sleep late and wake up early just to do more work.” he hums in reply, sitting next to you as he takes a piece of paper, reading what was on it. You yawn and lay your head on his shoulder.

“Can you wake me up in 10 minutes?”

“…I’d rather not, this is alot of work. If you’d like, I can help you with some.”

Suddenly, your eyes shine happily. You felt extremely motivated to continue. He hands you a glass of water he brought with him and you mumble a small “Thank you.” before handing him a few papers he could do.

It was late, it really was, but you both finally finished. You aren’t tired anymore, a burst of energy flowed through you as you looked at your tired boyfriend. He slightly smiled looking at you, feeling like all the energy he just drained was worth it to see you like this.

You give him a warm embrace as you kiss his face, he pulls you up and sets you on his lap, holding your waist as your support while he relaxed himself on the chair. You kissed his neck and occasionally bit softly, making sure it wasn’t painful but more playful instead. He closes his eyes, feeling satisfied with what he’s experiencing.

“I don’t want to move.”

“I know.”

“Can we stay like this?”

He hums and you cheerfully smile, slowly resting your eyes closed. Maybe this could be considered as the “date” you two missed.

a/n : probably my 1000th work that includes anaxa or reader sleeping late! awesome. not proofread like everyother fic. will do that Tomorrow…

[tblsomedoodles]

The Preferable Alternative- Part 4

Start - previous - next

I really should slow down. But this was a pretty easy update and i had the day off.

In other news, i'm going to go make a masterpost now. I think 4 parts is enough to warrant one

: )

[messrsrarchives]

[chirpsythismorning]

Yeah a teaser dropping on ST day would be cool. But can we agree that a DNA board reveal would be infinitely better?

[fuckingshitupjacket]

Happy name day Mina darling <3