#I’m not dumb it��s just a joke.

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

REQUEEEEEEEESTS LETS GOOOOOOOOO-wow I am nervous lols

Can I request mutant mayhem with Lee!Leo and Ler!April, please? (If ur wondering I am in fact that one anon that sent that long add-on idea I had spinning in my head after reading your MM Lee!Leo, Ler!Raph fic, hello! Glad you liked my ramblings ^^) no pressure if you don't feel like it tho!!

~ 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕! ~

💛💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💛💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴’𝚂 𝙽𝙾 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂, 𝙱𝚁𝙾 🥹🫶🏾💖!!! 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 🕺🏾✨💕! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔, 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 💝! 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚖 🫨💘! 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 ��𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎— 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 🤩💓˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟷𝟹𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 (𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢). 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚘𝚙’𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌— 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

T𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348  @itzsana-kiddingmenow 

@saturnzskyzz  @giggly-cloud  @savemeafruitjuice 

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch

@tmntalways @pocky-dragon @jamiesgotchu @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 (𝚎𝚠.) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 😌🫶🏾!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

School is what you make of it.

It could be absolute hell wrapped in a box to make it seem entertaining, or it could be a box full of oppurtunities and dreams awaiting you…but end up being hell either way. Do with that information as you will. 

And for April right now? School was definetly becoming a living hell…more than it already was anyway. 

It was near the end of school. Like— the very last week of school. The students have cleaned their lockers, they were done with finals and basically everything was completed in order to leave. 

So it still raises the question as to why April was still obligated to be here. She had one more week left of this torture called school, but it was starting to feel like an eternity!

And her last period class wasn’t making it any better either. 

It was Math.

Fucking. Math. 

And if you knew anything about Math periods…they took a century to finish. Plus, it was always so boring because their teacher would never. stop. yapping. 

“I want to go home.” April grumbled quietly, resting her cheek on her palm at her desk as their teacher— Ms. Miller— explained bullshit she didn’t know nor care about. Leo snorted in amusement at the comment, turning his head slightly at his friend who was beside him.

“Oh? Are you not enjoying Ms. Miller’s wonderful insight?” The teen in blue asked teasingly. Although, it was abundantly clear he too was not enjoying their teacher’s well known yap-sesh. 

The older teen just sighed in response, slouching in her chair as she crossed her arms across her chest, “This class is going to be on my suicide note.” She muttered under her breath. Leonardo put his hand over his mouth at her grumbled comment, looking down on his desk as he was trying not to laugh. 

Ms. Miller, who was at the front of the room smacked the whiteboard sternly with her ruler, causing the whole class to stiffen in surprise and look at her. 

“She goin' get me…” Mikey mumbled under his breath, causing the entire class to try and hold in their giggles the best they could. 

The teacher sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes before looking at the class, “Since it’s the end of the school year and I literally cannot wait to not see any of you for a good two to three months, let’s just do a Math activity for the remainder of class.”

“Awe!!! Your letting us play a game because you love us???” Mikey asked.

“No. I’m not giving you all a 'game' because I don’t feel like grading anything.” She responded. 

“Fair enough.” The turtle in orange mused as the teacher passed around sheet’s of paper with equations on it. “You can partner up with someone to complete all thirty questions. The first pair to answer all thirty questions and get them all right gets Dum-Dum lolipops.” She finished explaining as the kids gave knowing looks to each other, telepathically communicating with one another who would partner up with who. 

“…I feel like you’re trying to imply something with those lollipops, Ms. Miller…” Raph said as he raised a brow. The teacher let out a small laugh in response, sitting down at her desk as she went on her phone.

Okay…so perhaps this day wouldn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

The girl in glasses gave her blue cladded mutant friend a knowing look, which he gladly reciprocated as she scooted closer to him and started to work on the problems together. 

“We are going to absolutely dominate every single fucking person in this classroom and win that candy.” The older teen said as she cracked her knuckles, taking out her pencil case and taking out a pencil. 

Which was the Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil of course. 

“…Are you sure?” The hazel eyed mutant asked as he looked over the problems, “I’m not that good in Geometry…”

“Pff— am I sure? Sure I’m sure! Your girl right here got an A in Geometry.” April smiled as she slung an arm over the other’s shoulders, “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Leo Lazilee. I’m going to absolutely carry our team to sugary sweet VICTORY!” 

The younger slightly blushed at the nickname, rolling his eyes fondly, “I told you to stop calling me that…” He mumbled out but the other could tell he did not mean it one bit. 

The girl in glasses grabbed her pencil, ready to start solving the problems before really and truly looking as to what was in front of her. 

“The fuck is this shit?” The girl questioned, looking at the paper as if it grew ten heads out of nowhere. Leo mentally facepalmed, looking at the sheet alongside his best friend as they both looked at it in confusion. 

“…Why does the Math problem have shapes…?” The leader in blue mumbled to his friend beside him. 

“…Okahay, we’re both officially stupid.” The girl in glasses chuckled out, putting the pencil on the table as she leaned back on the chair.

The hazel eyed teen rolled his eyes at the automatic acceptance of defeat from his teammate, “Your no help.” He huffed out, turning around in his seat to face the person behind him.

Which, if you’re wondering, was none other than his big beautiful brained little brother Donnie. 

Oh, and Raph was here too, I guess. 

“Psst, Don! PSST!!!” The leader in blue whispered to his brother although he was literally a centimeter away from him. The purple cladded turtle in question looked up from the worksheet to meet his older brother’s gaze, “Nardo, why are you whispering so loudly?” He questioned. 

“I need your answers for the worksheet thingie!” Leo said.

“Are you crazy?” The hoodie wearing turtle asked as he huffed out a laugh, “Me? Dona Tello? Give you my answers? HA! Sorry, dear brother of mine…you expect waaaay too much.” 

Raph was sitting next to Donnie as the two teammates went shoulder to shoulder and barricaded the worksheet with their arms so Leo couldn’t see the paper. At all. The eldest huffed, turning back around and slumping in his chair with his arms crossed. 

Well, since his brain and brawn brother’s did not want to help him and April through these dire times, perhaps his youngest brother would be of aid. 

Leonardo got up, walking a couple seats down to where Mikey and Mondo were. The two friends were just telling jokes to each other and doodling all over the back of the paper. The hazel eyed teen did nothave the patience and/or stamina to even ask the two if they knew it was a worksheet in the first place and not some coloring page.  

Besides, from what Leo heard, the two seemed to be having a meaningful convo about the Trump vs. Biden presidential debate, MLP, Helluva Boss, amusement parks and…grass. 

How do those topics all correlate in a conversation? Leonardo has absolutely no clue! 

But the two were making it work, so he wouldn’t question it. 

The eldest turtle went back to his seat, letting out a defeated sigh as April patted him on the shell comfortingly. “Seems like we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way...” The leader in blue muttered out as he sat up straight,  looking over the problems again.

After a couple minutes of Leonardo just aimlessly staring at the paper, April got impaitent and just grabbed the worksheet, looking at the problems for a split second before jotting down random answers. 

“Uh…Prill? You know I never question your unorthodox way of doing things…but I am 100% questioning it right now.” The younger teen said as he peeked over to look at the questions— which April was halfway done with.

“Trust the process, Nerdo. I’ll have us swimming in candy in no time!” The girl grinned, going into her pencil case to sharpen her pencil. The blue cladded turtle took one more good look at the paper and examined it thouroughly. 

Look, Leo’s only been in school for about a year now, but he’s 99.9% positive Geometry answers should not be just question marks. 

As the chocolate brown eyed teen was ready to write down another answer to the worksheet, the other snatched the pencil away from her quickly, glaring at her playfully as she glared playfully back. 

“Oho, Leo~!” The girl sang in a sing-song voice, “I would be ever-so grateful if you could give me back my pencil. My Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil to be exact.” She exclaimed with emphasis and whimsy. 

“Soho yohou can wrihite quehestion marks ahall over the paper? Yeheah…noho...” The mutant remarked. 

“Juhust gihive me my pehencil!”

“Noho!” 

April almost automatically poked Leo in the side due to his statement, causing the turtle to shriek in surprise as he flinched slightly from the touch. The random noise that escaped his mouth got a couple of concerned looks from his other classmates but they soon deflected and went back to doing their own thing. 

The slightly taller teen clutched the pencil to his chest like it was the last piece of pizza on Earth and he was fighting for it with every single fiber in his body. He scooted his chair slightly away from his friend but she easily and gladly followed, raising a brow in amusement and delight. 

“Why are you so nervous all of a sudden~?” She asked innocently as the other avoided her gaze, looking to the side of him as he was trying not to literally grab his backpack and sprint all the way back to the lair in complete terror. 

“Nardo~! My pencil, please!” The other smiled sweetly as she extended her hand, awaiting her fellow teammate to give back what was rightfully her’s. “Ahand ihif Ihi dohohon’t…?” Leo meekly asked, letting out a soft and tiny squeal as the older pinched his side again. 

“You know what’s going to happen, you goof. I have no problem doing this in front of everyone.” April said as she now squeezed Leo’s sides with her fingers. The slightly taller teen snorted, slightly sliding down in the chair as he tried to avoid his best friend’s attacks. 

“S-Stahahap!!” The blue cladded turtle giggled, batting at April’s arms with his arms weakly. The girl chuckled at the adorable sight, booping Leo’s nose before squeezing his sides once more. “You don’t really want me to stop though, do you?” She mused as the younger stomped his legs on the floor, trying his absolute best to keep his reaction to a minimum.

“Your brother and April need to get a room, brah…” Mondo chuckled in amusement as him and Mikey watched the scene unfold. The youngest turtle sighed knowingly, leaning back on his chair, “Tell me about it…”

The leader in blue weakly thrashed in his seat, hugging his middles whilst still having the pencil in his right hand. “Aha— *snort* AhaHAPRIHIL!” He giggly said.

The girl just smirked in response, sneaking her hands to the other’s underarms and resulting him to let out loud giddy cackles and snorts. “Oho~? Snorting already?” She asked.

The mutant shook his head back and forth, covering his mouth with his hands to try and muffle his laugh. The glasses wielding teen scoffed lightly at the action, digging harder into the other’s underarms. “Ohhhh no you don’t, Leo Lazilee. I am not allowing you to hide your precious giggles from me! Drop your hands~!” 

“FAHAH— *snort* *snort* MAHAKE MEEHEE!!” 

“Have it your way.” The elder teen said casually, effortlessly holding the leader in blue’s arms up as her fingers scribbled all over his stomach and sides. 

Leonardo threw his head back, stomping his feet on the ground as he tried to squirm away from April. “Tickle tickle tickle~!” 

“PFFT— *snort* NAHAHA!! D-DOHON’T EHEHEVEN *snort* *snort* DOHON’T *snort* SAHAHAY THAHAT!!!” 

“Hm? Don’t say what, Lee-o~? Tickle~?” April teased as the mutant’s laughter raised an octave. “NAHA— *snort* NOHOHO STAHAP IHIT!” 

“How about…no? Tickletickletickletickletickletickle~!” The girl continued to tease as she watched her best friend turn into a giggly puddle of snorts and squeals. “Is someone too tickle tickle ticklish~? Does this…tickletickletickletickletickle~?” 

The hazel eyed teen snorted loudly, “PRIHIHILLIE!!! PLEHEHEASE STAHA— *snort* NONONOHOHO— *snort* *snort* NAHAHAH!!!” 

“No what~? Are you too ticklish for this~?”

“SHUHUT *snort* UHUHAHAP!!” 

The chocolate brown eyed girl stopped her attack altogether at the sudden and very rude comment, glaring teasingly at her friend as if to say: 'Your about to get it.'

Raphael shook his head in mock dissapointment, eating a bag of Doritos as he was watching the one sided tickle fight right in front of him “Saying 'shut up' to April is absolutley wild. And doing that literaly four months after Women’s History month?! For shame, brother. For. shame.” The tallest turtle said dramatically. 

“Anyways, try aiming for his lower stomach. It drives him batshit crazy.” The second oldest turtle casually said, grinning as he saw the eldest giving him the nastiest stink eye. 

The girl smiled in awaiting triumph, “Okay then. Thanks— wait a sec. Raph, where the hell did you get Doritos from?!”

“My…backpack?” The red cladded turtle said as if his answer should’ve been obvious. 

“Dude, this is literally our last period.” Donnie laughed, still solving the last couple of problems on the worksheet.

“So? Last time I checked, this was a free country. I’ll eat Doritos any time and at any class period. Period.” Raphael announced as he ate more of the Dorito chips from the bag. The girl in glasses just rolled her eyes fondly, keeping her friend’s wrists in a hold as the other hand wiggled slowly to his lower stomach.

“N-NAHAH— *snort* *snort* NOHOHOH!!!”

“Gihive me my pehehencil yohou buffoon!” 

“IHIHI’LL *snort* STAHAB *snort* YOHOHOU *snort *snort* WIHITH IHIHIHIT!!!”

“You wanna see how that’ll end~?” 

“N-NOHO! NONOHOHO WAHA— *snort* WAHAIT IM SORRY!!” Leo cried out, being too tired to writhe or pry so he was just stuck laughing his shell off. The slightly older teenager payed him no mind, raising his arms a bit higher as she scribbled her nails all over his plastron and lower plastron. 

But ladies and gentlemen? Nothing…absolutely nothing could have prepared anyone in that classroom for what unfolded. 

The leader in blue let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into screechy cackles. April soon bursted into loud laughter along with Leo, wondering just how insanely ticklish a ninja turtle could possibly be. 

“EEEEEHEHEHAHAH!!! PLEHA— *snort* *snort* *snort* STAHAHAP!!! IHI CAHAN’T TAHAKE IHI— *snort*!!” Leonardo squealed as his laughter went up an octave or two. April was honestly genuinely surprised no teacher from the classrooms came to check up on them to make sure no one was fatally dying. 

The teachers aren’t really payed enough to care that much but still!

“TAHAKE IHIT! TAHAHAHAKE *snort* *snort* *snort* IHIHIT! PRIHIHILLIE PLEHAHA— *snort* *snort* PLEHEASE!” As the blue cladded mutant’s laugh and gasps became more frantic, the slightly smaller teen stopped tickling him, grabbing the pencil from his hands as she pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“I just wanted my pencil back. You took my property and I used self defense.” April said teasingly, reaching for the paper and erasing her previous answers to start again. “Ihi’m *snort* gohoing to fihile aha *snort* *snort* complaint…”

“Oho yeah? To who?” 

“To Daharth Vahader soho he cahan use thehe force on your ahashy ahass…” Leo grumbled through his giggles, sitting up in his chair as his best friend continued to finish the last of the problems. 

As the chocolate eyed teen finished up with the remainder of the problems, her and Leo got up to give the worksheet to the teacher. “Here you go, Ms. Miller! All thirty problems 101% completed.” The girl grinned. 

Their teacher raised a brow, pulling up the answer key on her computer as she looked over the two’s work.

“That’s incorrect.” Ms. Miller said.

“Ms. Miller…exactly what’s incorrect?” Leonardo asked. 

“…All of it.” The teacher explained. But before she could give the two partners some insight on whatthey did wrong and how they could improve, the two were pushed aside by Donnie and Raph. 

“Eat shit, suckers.” Raphael snickered as he handed their teacher the paper (he had sanitized his hands prior due to him eating Doritos earlier. He wasn’t an animal). 

“I don’t get paid enough for this…” Ms. Miller sighed, looking over the brain and brawn’s worksheet as she compared it with the answer key, “Good job you two. Everything is correct.” She said, pulling out one of the drawers on her desk to take out a big jar just full of Dum-Dum lollipops. 

She handed the huge jar to Raph who gladly accepted it, sticking his tongue out at Leo and April teasingly before directing his attention back to their teacher. “Thanks, teach.” He smiled, going back to his desk. 

Donnie on the other hand, started crying from pure joy, dramatically wiping a tear, “Ms. Miller…? Can you get my fellow classmate’s attention? I need to say something important.” He mumbled out meekly. “Here we go…” The leader in blue grumbled as him and April went back to their seats in defeat.

"If you don't like your destiny, don't accept it. Instead, have the courage to change it the way you want it to be." The purple cladded turtle said whenthe class settled down.

“THAT’S A QUOTE FROM NARUTO, YOU COPYCAT!!!” A kid in the class shouted. 

“SHUT UP, BRANDON!!! NOBODY ASKED YOU!!!” Donnie basically screeched at his classmate, his voice rising and being similar to the noise of nails on a chalk board. The whole class cringed at the voice crack but no one dared mention it. 

“A-And I just wanted to thank my manager! A-And my parents and colleagues…” The purple cladded mutant listed. 

“…Donnie has a manager…?” Mondo whispered to Mikey who merely just shrugged, “I’m just as confused as you are, broski…”

“And like big-mouthed Brandon over there mentioned, Naruto says you need to change things the way you want it to be.” The hoodie wearing turtle said wisely.

“So you guys should change the wires in your brains because there was an answer key to the worksheet at the back. But none of you imbeciles noticed.” He grinned, his smile widening as his classmates jaw’s dropped.

“Anyways, thank you all and to all a good night.” The purple cladded teen announced as he bowed dramatically, going back to his seat as him and Raph fist bumped, immediately digging into the lollipop jar.  

“I hope they get diabetes.” Leonardo grumbled as the bell rang. The quintet (group of five people in case you’re wondering :3) packing their bookbags and leaving the classroom along with their classmates.

This day definitely didn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

She still would’ve appreciated winning, though.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[rafedarling]

Drew losing his wedding ring 🤫 but he left it behind at home and y/n finds it inside his laundry basket she goes shit crazy looking for it and since y/n know she plays dumb wanting to teach him a lesson and she’s like baby I’m getting our rings cleaned l tomorrow can you leave your ring on the counter and he’s just rambling and coming up with excuses Intill he finds his ring will Drew continue to lie or confess

cute!!!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew, your husband who accidentally leaves his wedding ring in his laundry basket, prompting you, his wife to find it while doing laundry. instead of confronting him immediately, you decides to teach him a lesson by pretending not to notice while teasing him about getting plan taking your rings to cleaned.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humor, and playful teasing, slight secondhand embarrassment, wholesome, domestic vibes.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora

It had been a long but pleasant evening, and as you glanced at the overflowing laundry basket in the corner of your bedroom, you figured it was time to tackle it. Drew was lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels, blissfully unaware of the mischief you were about to stir up.

Laundry had become a bit of a ritual for you both; a chore that came with its own rhythm and quirks. Drew was the “dump-it-all-in-and-hope-for-the-best” type, while you meticulously checked pockets and separated clothes by color. And it was during one of these pocket inspections that you felt something hard and metallic inside the pocket of his jeans.

You pulled it out and froze.

His wedding ring.

Your brows knitted together as you stared at the small band in your palm. Drew was practically married to his ring he wore it everywhere, even in places he didn’t need to, like the gym or while swimming. It had been a running joke between you that he might as well glue it to his finger. So, finding it stuffed in his laundry was unusual, to say the least.

You chewed on your lip, debating whether to call him out immediately or let him stew a little. Then, with a devilish grin across your face. You slipped the ring into the pocket of your pajama pants, decided not to mention it, and returned to the living room. You’d let him sweat it out.

When you entered, Drew was crouched by the couch, pulling cushions off and muttering to himself.

“Babe, what are you looking for?” you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

Drew froze mid-search, then quickly straightened up.

“Oh, uh… nothing. Just… the remote.” He gestured vaguely to the couch, his voice a little too high-pitched to be believable.

You raised an eyebrow.

“The remote? The one sitting on the coffee table?”

You pointed at the remote, lying in plain sight directly in front of him.

“Oh.” He let out a nervous laugh, grabbing it. “Right. That one.”

You fought to keep a straight face as you handed it to him.

“Here. Anything else you’re looking for?”

“Nope! All good.”

He said it too quickly, his voice strained, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Mm-hmm,” you murmured, heading back to the bedroom.

Once you were out of sight, you retrieved the ring from your pocket and tucked it into your jewelry box for safekeeping. If Drew was going to lie, you’d at least make it entertaining.

The next morning, you were up a bit late and padded into the kitchen to find Drew already there, nursing his coffee. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in all directions, and he was wearing your favorite flannel pajama pants the ones you swore made him look cozier than ever. He grinned when he saw you.

“Morning, babe. Coffee?” he offered, gesturing to the pot.

“Yes, please.”

You slid onto the stool at the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him pour. That’s when your eyes zeroed in on his left hand still missing the ring. You couldn’t resist any longer.

“Drew,” you began casually as he placed the cup in front of you, “uh…where’s your ring?”

He froze, fingers tightening slightly on his mug.

“Oh, uh… my ring”

He cleared his throat and quickly recovered, spreading his hands in front of him as if to inspect them.

“Right. My ring. I, uh, must’ve taken it off when I was… washing my hands last night. You know how slippery soap gets.”

You nodded slowly, playing along.

“Slippery soap. Got it.”

He relaxed slightly, clearly thinking he was off the hook, and took a long sip of his coffee. But you weren’t done yet.

“You know,” you said, feigning nonchalance,

“I was thinking we should take our rings in for a cleaning. They’ve been looking a little dull lately. How about I drop them off at the jeweler tomorrow?”

Drew nearly choked on his coffee. “Uh… cleaning?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly. “You can just leave your ring on the counter before work, and I’ll take care of it.”

For a split second, you thought he might actually combust.

“Oh, uh, sure! Totally,” he said, his voice pitched high with panic.

“I mean, it’s probably… in the bathroom. Or… maybe on the nightstand? Or, uh—” He stopped himself, clearly spiraling.

You tilted your head, giving him your most innocent look.

“Are you sure you know where it is? You seem a little… distracted.”

“I know exactly where it is,” he insisted, though the way his eyes darted toward the ceiling betrayed him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.”

You sipped your coffee, pretending to be absorbed in your phone.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s that important, right? It’s just a ring.”

Drew’s head snapped up, his expression stricken.

“It is important!” he blurted out, a little louder than necessary. “I didn’t lose it, okay? I—uh…I just… misplaced it. Temporarily.”

“Of course,” you said, nodding sympathetically.

“That makes total sense.”

He let out a shaky breath, clearly not realizing you were toying with him. Over the next few hours, Drew became increasingly frantic, sneaking off to various rooms to search for the ring. You caught him rifling through the bathroom drawers, peering under the bed, and even checking the fridge at one point.

By evening, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. His usual confident demeanor had crumbled, and guilt was written all over his face. You decided it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Drew,” you said softly, sitting beside him, “is there something you want to tell me?”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes filled with regret.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“I lost my ring. I don’t know how, I don’t know where, and I’ve been freaking out about it all day. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad, and”

You reached into your pajama pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it between your fingers.

“Looking for this?” you asked, unable to hide your grin.

Drew stared at the ring, his jaw dropping.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

“I found it in your laundry last night,” you explained, laughing.

“I wanted to see how long it would take for you to confess.”

He groaned, leaning back against the couch.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, sliding the ring back onto his finger. “But you deserved it for lying to me.”

Drew pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m never taking this off again,” he promised, kissing your temple.

“Oh you better not,” you teased. “Or next time, I might just pawn it.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“Smart man,” you said, leaning against him with a satisfied smile.

[chobunz]

── jay’s body. ( pjs ) 🔪

๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…

pair/genre: popular jock!jay ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jay is your childhood best friend, yandere/incubus!jay, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, piv, fingering, oral (m + f. rec), rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.3k+ (holy shit i’m insane..)

**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!

[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]

this is a really long one compared to all of my other fics ! i’m happy with the outcome of this so i hope you all like it !! i poured way too much time and effort into this writing so reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <33 big thank you to the loml @p4ranormaluv for beta-ing my fic, ilysm muahh

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“you should come.” jay’s figure hovered over your desk, his face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” his former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.

you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him, jay constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and he’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.

“no jay, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind him yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if he didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering his dumb little offer.

for the past hour or so he’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with him. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie girl band, ‘sweet venom’, is going to be performing there tonight. jay would always rave about their music once he discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.

“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” he whines, dragging out his words which only made him sound even more immature. he’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”

his snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jay were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jay refused to never leave your side— ever.

you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with him over the years, yet he’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why he’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. he’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst his peers— and especially with women, of course.

jay will never admit it out loud, but he’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention he was blessed with a well above average face that he used to his advantage quite a bit. he’d often came off as pretty arrogant and crude to most people, he honestly had no filter when it came to voicing his own opinions; but that was the allure of him, made his charm even more magnetic to the dozens of girls who’d fawn over him on a daily basis. he acted as though all eyes weren’t on him, yet he secretly relished it. if he wasn’t stroking his own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.

you glare at him, wishing he’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.

“soo, i’m guessing mark’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella cranky all the time… must not be that good,” jay couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”

if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating his ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jay follows behind to continue his rampant taunting spree.

“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of girls wave at him as you walked through the corridor, but he ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious asshole he is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face him only to be met with a smug grin settled on his lips. the fact he gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.

“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how he instantly lit up at your question. you knew he would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with him. anything to get him to finally shut up..

“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jay caged his arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” he quickly adds.

“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by his critique of your clothing choices.

“really ?” he spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”

you flat out ignore his comments. not even wanting to entertain his bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jay say whatever he wants was the best option, which is why he always gets away with it. he’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back and let his menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to him but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to him having an irrational outburst.

“i gotta go find mark, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.

“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jay’s features, there was no inherent issue he had with mark— just didn’t really like the guy. he felt as though he was slowly being replaced by him, which is why he latched onto you even more than ever.

once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.

“hey babe,” mark happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”

“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jay was the reason for your semi-tardiness.

“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.

“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jay tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing him up. it’s always jay, jay, jay— this was really beginning to irritate him.

“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jay would always beat him to it. mark truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.

“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but mark still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jay for the whole night instead of him.

you know that mark never really liked jay, and jay also never really liked mark either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. mark was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jay however… he was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into his studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with him, you never knew exactly when he’d go off.

“yeah only for like two hours..” mark sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jay tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with jay more than me..”

“that’s not true !” you fire back, “he’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jay both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.

“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” mark jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.

๑ ๑ ๑

“so.. which one is he stalking online again ?” mark asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jay’s new obsession with this girl band.

“the lead singer of this band, he said she’s like ‘100% his type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jay would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.

“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why he couldn’t just go with someone else or by himself. he doesn’t need you there..”

you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jay.

you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but he’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jay, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.

“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” mark sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.

you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jay !”

you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s grinning ear to ear, throwing your arms around his shoulders to embrace him in a hug.

“i see you actually took my advice,” jay says proudly, staring down your whole body as he examines your outfit, “we good to go ?” he asks, looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white graphic tee that he bought from spencer’s.

“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jay got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…

“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” mark grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jay that he wasn’t the only man in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.

jay scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” he said in his usual cocky tone, mark was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.

“listen dipshit i’ve had—”

“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”

jay’s demeanor softens the minute he hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” he links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of his car keys clashing together as he swung them around with his free hand.

a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating mark. jay has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, he’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how he is. though sometimes, he’d take things a step too far. whenever he feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from him, he does everything in his power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jay have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and he isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, he’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.

that was until you met your boyfriend mark of course, jay rarely ever conversed with him nor was he ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jay would’ve approved of anyone you date, he was harder to please than your own father and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jay were to magically show up with a girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing him you’ve never seen him date a single soul, he could literally have any girl he wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near him. yet he didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, he preferred his own solitude; except when he’s around you, that is.

๑ ๑ ๑

you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jay walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jay kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of frat boys you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush heeseung, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought he was way out of your league, plus he was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.

you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text mark who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few girls who tried talking to jay but he seemed quite unamused by them, his mission was to talk to this band that he was fangirling over, you’ve never seen him this excited over anything.

“come with me,” jay suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with him. he was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as he always did. there were a total of 5 women, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.

jay makes the first move, introducing himself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jay and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” he sounded like such a groupie, you never took him as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.

a woman with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since she held a microphone in her hand, “nice to meet you, i’m scarlett, but you can call me scar. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jay nods, looking at her as if she held the key to a world he’s never seen before.

“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jay asks, hoping to give off the impression he’s older than he actually is.

“sure, thanks.” she replied, winking at him as she prepares to set up for the performance.

“great, i’ll be back right !” he turns around in a flash, tagging you along with him for the journey.

“uh, jay we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind him, confused as how he was going to even pull this off, but he shuts down your doubtful attitude.

“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” he makes his way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact he may or may not be denied.

as jay was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, scarlett aka scar, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.

“yeah that guy’s definitely a virgin, he talks big game but i know he doesn’t get girls..” she giggles to them. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was he being overly friendly with them but they were taking his kindness as a sign of weakness.

“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, bitch !” you intervened, quickly coming to his defense, “whether he is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and he’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some washed up skanks like you.” you couldn’t believe those words even came out your mouth, but when it came to jay, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about him like that.

“what’s going on ?” jay interrupts, coming back with the drinks as he noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.

“they were just talking about you !” you point over to the girls, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”

“oh.. i mean does getting sucked off in the locker rooms by half the cheer team count ??” he jokes, snickering to himself when he remembers that moment.

you face palm, “that’s not the point, jay !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if he was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ?

before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. scar went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘bloody roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.

as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jay who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jay who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..

not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jay was following behind you still but he wasn’t, he was gone. and so was the band.

you shouted his name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jay. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.

surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.

you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..

anxiety struck through you when you realize jay was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jay was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.

“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jay’s voice, turning around to face him. you couldn’t believe it was really him, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.

“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.

“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” he didn’t sound like his usual self, this time he was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.

“oh thank god you two are alright !” scar, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” she proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.

you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jay!” you grab his hand but he doesn’t follow along.

“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” he says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other girls.

“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe he’d choose them over you, even if he was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for him to leave with them rather than his own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.

“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” scarlett rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jay, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with some random strangers he just met.

you’re steady calling after him but he doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…

๑ ๑ ๑

it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jay. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if he needed your help and you left him all alone to fend for himself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. he was probably having the time of his life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of him leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could he have done this to you ? maybe he really was the selfish jerk that mark always painted him out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting him leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jay will be fine.

you decide to call mark, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.

“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.

“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.

“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.

you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”

“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.

“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.

“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.

“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…

“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”

“jay left with that band but i told him not to.. he hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save him !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.

“who cares about jay ! people died !” mark was baffled by how you were still only thinking about him when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.

he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jay is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as him. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue him. there was no real proof that he’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..

that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.

“shh, wait— mark i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.

“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.

“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.

the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.

finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.

you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.

…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?

“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.

“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” mark warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.

the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.

you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jay, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.

“mark.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.

“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the boy who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.

he looked more than unwell, as if he had just survived the most brutal attack of his life. his actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as he mindlessly consumed whatever he could find in his wake. he came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with his bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that he was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.

“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.

upon hearing your startled voice, he stopped eating and averts his gaze to you. his eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout him whatsoever, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before. instead of getting up he crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in his odd aura, he began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if he were trying to get something to leave out of his body. that’s when he starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.

“jay what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at him but it was no use. he was never going to answer you, it was like he was possessed by some kind of spirit.

he finally got up on his feet, never breaking eye contact with you, his dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jay could smell the fear you emitted, it only made him want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from his presence, but of course he doesn’t let you do that. he only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. he grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. he remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.

you whimpered in fear, but he keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” he whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. he only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating his saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.

he wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if he just now was able to acknowledge what he’s done. his breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though he couldn’t control his own body anymore. before you could do anything, he swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.

“jay !” you try to call after him, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.

you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.

๑ ๑ ๑

the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jay, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as he normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jay was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in his laughter as he heard the professor speak, you hit his arm in response of his apathy.

“this isn’t funny..” you scold him for being so insensitive, “people died, jay ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”

he rolls his eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”

how could he even say something like that ? especially knowing that he knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.

“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at him as if he’s gone mad, which he quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to him yet but you were reluctant on doing so, he’d probably deny everything anyway.

“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. did someone piss in your cereal this morning?” he wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, he saw it as one big mockery.

you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jay was the type to never wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how he didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.

“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jay quickly comments, he was irritating you the more he kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing him out and giving him hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..

your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?

once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jay followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to him. you debated on confronting him about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.

you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jay left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way he looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on his face, like he was going to rip your heart out of your small body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.

even if you did tell him what happened, there’s a slim chance he’d take any responsibility for his own actions. his pride would never let him. you remember when you were kids he’d always make you get into so much trouble with him, but the minute you two got caught he’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jay was always able to manipulate his way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with him that he was one, to which he’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as he is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?

๑ ๑ ๑

jay would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. he’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. he’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for his liking, he’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with mark. he only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm himself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he surely hasn’t been acting like himself ever since he interacted with that band.

a month has flown by and you notice jay was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under his eyes made it seem as though he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. he looked like death. as if his own flesh was eating him from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for him to change this drastically. he resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. he lost a lot of muscle mass as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of himself. it truly pained you to see him in such a state, how sunken in his face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..

“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”

“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jay replied, his tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.

obviously you don’t take his word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want him to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.

the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be soojin, the pretty little captain of the cheer team. her organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of her corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of her disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on her rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.

this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for her just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of her. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.

when you spoke to jay about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but he told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe he was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.

you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. she was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought her death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to soojin a day in your life but she was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess her of all people would end up with a fate like this.

as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates ryujin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set her up with jay. you’ve known for a while that she’s always had a thing for him and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for her. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that he’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling her that you’ll talk to jay, although you couldn’t make any promises.

upon meeting up with jay later on in the day, you proposed the idea to him, but of course, he declined almost straight away saying he wasn’t interested. he referred to her as that ‘weird, stoner goth chick who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected him to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jay always has to ruin it…

however, not even an hour later, he ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. you thought it was a bit strange how he’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for ryujin, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with her crush.

you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and mark were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating mark, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..

๑ ๑ ๑

your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.

everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..

you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.

numbness.. that’s all you felt..

you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.

everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.

he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jay. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.

“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.

“did i do something wrong ?” mark asks, confused by your sudden coldness.

you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jay’s dorm, not knowing whether he’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.

in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jay, his clothes stained in blood just like night he was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help him but he was no longer there anymore, as if he’s vanished into thin air.

confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jay sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on him anymore.

“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at him over the rim of your glasses.

“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” he smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than he did when you saw him earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”

“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jay.” you didn’t have time for his little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.

“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” he pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as he had no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that he went through your stuff without even asking.

he doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think he would. instead, jay harshly pressed his lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of his. he managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as he savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed him back, whimpering at the feel of his tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving him just enough leeway for him to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. he kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.

his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into his messy, raven locks. jay would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. he explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like he wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. he felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with his teeth— but he resisted, at least not yet anyway.

when his hands came up to find your hips, his touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you’re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of him, shouting in protest.

“jay, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at him anymore.

“language y/n !” he giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking his lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”

“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” he takes a dramatic pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”

you look at him strangely, unsure of what he fully meant by that, “what is it..”

“i’m dead.”

now you’re staring at him as if he just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.

“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”

“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” he casually says if he were simply talking about the weather.

“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where he was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.

“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” he repeats nonchalantly.

“jay, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with him by the second.

“it’s true, i swear !”

“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of his little shenanigans, ready to walk away from him but he grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet his gaze.

“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” he pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.

“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing him out.

“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” he explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” he proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.

“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”

he cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when scar and her little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some girl on the opposite side of the pavement, she looked quite edible so i ate her. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”

you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything he just told you. there’s no way he could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life jay.”

he seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking his words seriously, but he kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”

“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming his very weird, but oddly specific narrative.

jay nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”

“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed soojin ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least he had nothing to do with it, but if what he is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.

he nods again, “yep. and ryujin.”

your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”

“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with her just to eat her. so it’s practically your fault that she’s dead.” he shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.

you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.

“you’re a fucking monster.. she had a whole life ahead of her. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”

“well, now she’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jay shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.

“anyway, wanna see something cool?” he asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave him the most questionable look of all mankind.

“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” he takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into his own wrist, he was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if he didn’t just stab himself at all.

“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” he says like a giddy school kid, bragging over his new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”

again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?

“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” he finally admits to the night when he went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” his eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.

“jay, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.

he doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” he strokes your hand with his, not even fully understanding the gravity of what he’s done or said this whole time.

“jay you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from his touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?

“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jay clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as he forced himself on top of you.

you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of his hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.

“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see him staring straight into your soul.

“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” he answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” he slid his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours.

“jay no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” he darkly chuckles, tilting his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. he pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”

you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way he spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that he casted.

you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to him ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and your mattress, his fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? he practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course he’d be able to tell…

he kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, his tongue dominating yours easily. he nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

he grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when he slowly rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. the moment only brief until he dips his hand into your underwear.

you try to make him stop by grabbing ahold of his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes him chuckle in response.

“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” he softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”

you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?

“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” his dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jay speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, he was going to make sure that mark could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like he always does.

he’s not waiting for a response as he starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.

jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for too long as he pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of his fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“i know, i know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming his words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

when he says this, you have a hard time believing him. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..

he begins moving his fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. he’d curls his fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…

“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when he tells you this.

he unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his shoulder. you now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.

“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

you’d probably be more aware of how hard he was if it weren’t trapped in his loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time he thrusts in.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” he asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”

you hate his questions— you hate them so damn much. he knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“g-good.”

“yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.

“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.

jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“good girl,” he praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”

he still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

he could simply stop there, but he won’t— not until he fully got what he wanted, he needs more…

he pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

you glance at his hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for him.

you then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“suck,” he adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of his orders, and you do so without a second thought.

he stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.

he removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “just as sweet as you are,” he grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”

your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye his stiff erection through his pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. he hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for him.

you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. jay was huge. his veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of him in your tiny mouth.

his length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.

“fuck… feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the sheets as he groans with pleasure.

you wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jay’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.

he let out a low moan when his length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of him in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking him made him want to bust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around him.

“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” he keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. he does his best not to keep his eyes off you but he wanted to shut his eyes from how good you were making him feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth, he elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.

jay bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to close his eyes, taking in shallow breaths. he could feel himself getting closer and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.

“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”

you couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting him to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, he matches your movements with his hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for jay.

you feel his thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at him, drinking up all his cum. surprisingly, he tasted pretty good, emptying every last drop of him, once you finally pulled away he orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for him. you only hesitated for a second, looking at him credulously before doing what he asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.

“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jay stroking himself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for him.

“gonna put my cock inside you ?” he finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”

you stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. he pumps himself a couple more times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. his free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.

you can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and he was right. this hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.

“jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.

he hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. when he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. he deliberately pounded into you, like he wanted everyone near to know just how badly he was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like he wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.

you involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. he thrusts himself deeper into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time he bottoms out, jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jay’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

you’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him right in.

“shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis.

he kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. he leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. as he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. he didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“please.. jay, so good..”

“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” he captured your waist pulling you closer into him. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”

“holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”

he stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. he then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

but he wasn’t done just yet, he wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of him. his fingers, his cock, and now his tongue.

“just need another taste..” jay couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all he wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.

he bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath his tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. he had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on his tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that he’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.

he continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. you grind against his face and jay couldn’t help but groan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. his tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of him against you.

his mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jay slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as he stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. he soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.

the combination of jay’s tongue and fingers, along with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which he gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.

tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. the tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches you come undone for him all over again. his thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into his touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..

your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over jay’s forearm and thighs.

“jay…” you said his name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if he’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was his name.

๑ ๑ ๑

a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?

some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.

jay was no exception to this rule. he knew exactly how to use his good looks and charisma to get anyone to fall for his tricks. he didn’t need to put in too much effort, he didn’t have to seek anyone out because they’d come to him anyway. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.

ryujin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, she was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.

some of her internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like soojin was. her body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify her at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on her bedroom mirror. some were even saying that she looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.

there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.

while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jay’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that he’s an incubus; a male demon that has sexual activity with other women. he was at his weakest state whenever he’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain his lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.

“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” mark rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.

“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.

“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.

you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…

“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell mark. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.

so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jay, how he was brutally murdered and left for dead by that girl band who used him as a sacrifice, you told him about how he was there in your kitchen, and how he ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in his wake. you felt so sure of yourself that mark would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.

“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jay confessed to you.

“i’m telling the truth mark, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.

“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.

“mark, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.

“he’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but mark’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…

“look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.

you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “mark, i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”

his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”

“i bet jay put you up to this, didn’t he ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jay conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what he always would’ve wanted, and now mark feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.

you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.

“are you really too blinded to see? he’s always been a bad influence on you..” mark was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jay. “if he told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, he’s got you wrapped around his finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”

you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jay, but you weren’t just going to let mark talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.

“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.

on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving mark all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.

๑ ๑ ๑

the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with mark, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see mark which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jay anywhere either.

you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jay’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jay’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but he gave you one.

during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jay for comfort, finding solace in one another.

jay could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. his father left before he was even born and his mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. he despised every single one of those men who’d come into his home, sometimes his mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing him to grow up at a young age and take care of himself. he wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with his own bare hands. maybe that’s why he’d act out so much, he was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs. just labeled a pretty boy with ugly intentions. you never saw him that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, his saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually he got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.

a part of you still wants to believe that he’s that same naïve boy you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for him, even if he was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jay simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions he made you feel— you were slipping right through his fingers. you were all he had left. and he wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.

๑ ๑ ๑

an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that mark could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jay, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jay, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.

you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jay who seems to have found his next victim— your ex boyfriend.

“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing him off of mark, tackling jay onto the floor.

“i thought you only did this to girls !” you had held some hope that jay wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..

“i guess you can say i go both ways,” he devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off his lower lip with the sleeve of black tux.

jay throws you off of him, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards him before he could get back to the work of his own brutality.

“you know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to him with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”

jay chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” he shrugged.

“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of him before he could take another bite out of mark’s shoulder.

using all your strength, you’d shoved him into the pool, submerging him into the water, attempting to drown him, but those efforts were futile when he regains control. he pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, weighty against your skull.

it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.

you had to get him off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.

and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both jay and mark wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. mark was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jay stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through his stomach.

“you son of a fucking bitch…” he mutters, remaining still for a second, as if he was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left his lips, sucking in air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. he’d slowly but surely drop to his knees, and a few seconds later he’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

you go up to mark, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.

“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” mark weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.

you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jay was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for him. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or him that was going to end up dead tonight.

eventually you’d caught up to him in the woods, finding him at a nearby tree, as if he were waiting for you to come searching for him.

“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards him.

“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jay laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to him, enjoying the thrill of it all.

“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” his head tilts as he asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.

you backed away as he kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at him, “you’re wrong, jay. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”

“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on his face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. he was nothing but pure evil, and he knew it.

you couldn’t bear to listen to him speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.

“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jay happily accepted your challenge with open arms.

he bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if he were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

he lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with him to try and get it back. you couldn’t let him win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into his chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” he bitterly spoke, repeating his words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…

“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at him to stop talking.

jay could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if he wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.

“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at him in disgust, unable to see him as the man who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending the most evil, conniving person on the planet.

“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” he reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”

you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”

jay didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made him want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but he’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is him.

he cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” he spoke to you softly. not even realizing he’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.

“jay…” you say his name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets his, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.

“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jay sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”

his words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for mark, your undying love for jay over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for him only grew once he’d connect his lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and him, along with the coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.

you know why you couldn’t kill him. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way he does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then he was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.

a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.

[pucksandpower]

Perfect Fit

Day 5 → Size Difference 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You sure she doesn’t snap in half when you’re together?” Lando’s voice rings out over the steady hum of the paddock, casual, like he’s asking about the weather.

Oscar’s head jerks up, his eyebrows knitting together. “What?”

“You know …” Lando gestures vaguely with his hand, as if the meaning will somehow fill the air between them. “You and her. She’s, like, tiny. Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

Oscar frowns, confused for a second before the meaning of Lando’s words sinks in. Lando is grinning like he’s delivered the world’s best punchline, but something twists in Oscar’s chest. The words linger. Too long.

“Mate, seriously?” Oscar scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but there’s an odd tension in his voice. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Lando shrugs, all casual, like he hasn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “Just making conversation. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Oscar doesn’t respond, choosing instead to shove Lando lightly in the shoulder, pushing past him. His heart beats a little too fast, and he finds himself suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of Lando’s comment.

He tries to shake it off, but the thought is like an itch at the back of his mind, one he can’t quite reach to scratch. Size. How could he have never noticed it before? Of course, he knew you were smaller — he had to lean down to kiss you, had to watch his step to not bowl you over in tight spaces. But he’d never really thought about it. Not like that.

Now, though … now he can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

Later that evening, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through some magazine, while he stands in the kitchen, mindlessly sipping from a water bottle. His eyes keep drifting over to you, studying the way you’re curled up. Small, Lando’s words repeat in his head. So much smaller.

You glance up and catch him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. You squint, unconvinced.

“Oscar,” you say, drawing out his name like you’re prying for a confession. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.

You set the magazine down, leaning back against the cushions. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

Oscar clears his throat, still not moving from his spot by the counter. “It’s not — I mean, Lando said something stupid earlier.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lando always says stupid things.”

He chuckles, but the sound is half-hearted. “Yeah, but this was, like, extra stupid.”

“What’d he say?”

Oscar hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, really.”

“Now you have to tell me,” you say, tilting your head, that teasing smile starting to curl at your lips. You always get that look when you know he’s holding something back, and he knows you won’t let it go until he spills.

He sighs, finally pushing away from the counter and walking over to sit beside you on the couch. “It’s just … he made some joke about, uh … about our size difference.”

Your brows furrow. “What about it?”

Oscar pauses, trying to find the right words. “He basically said … I don’t know. That it must be … hard. You know, because you’re, uh, smaller than me.”

Your lips press together, a faint blush creeping up your neck as the meaning hits. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oscar lets out a breath, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “I didn’t think much of it at first, but now I can’t stop … noticing it.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the kind that feels heavier than usual.

You swallow, shifting a little on the couch to face him. “Is it weird for you?” You ask quietly. “Our size difference?”

Oscar’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “No — no, it’s not weird. It’s not like that. I’ve just … I never really thought about it before. And now it’s in my head.”

“So it’s in your head that I’m small?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath it.

He laughs softly. “It’s not just that you’re small. It’s … everything. Like, I never thought about how I have to be careful with you. When I hold you, or when we’re … close.”

You tilt your head, curious. “You don’t think about it when we’re close?”

“I mean, I think about it,” he admits, his voice dropping. “But not in a bad way. I just-” He falters, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty, the vulnerability that’s starting to seep through the cracks. You reach out, placing a hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oscar.”

“I know that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But I guess … sometimes I just worry that I might. Without meaning to.”

The air feels thick between you, charged with something unsaid. You chew on your bottom lip, considering his words, the way he’s looking at you now — like he’s seeing you in a new light, or maybe just realizing something that’s been there all along.

“I don’t mind that we’re different sizes,” you say quietly, and your voice is sincere, even if there’s an underlying nervousness. “I actually … I like it.”

Oscar’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, your hand still resting on his knee. “I like that you’re taller, and that you can hold me, and that I feel … safe with you.”

Something shifts in Oscar’s expression. It’s subtle, but you see the way his shoulders relax, the tension that’s been building all evening starting to fade away. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel safe with me?”

“Of course I do,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re … I don’t know. You’re so careful with me. I can feel it when we’re together.”

Oscar’s hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “I just … I don’t want to screw this up,” he admits, his voice raw. “I care about you too much to mess this up.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. “You’re not messing anything up, Oscar. You’re being … you.”

He leans in closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. “I don’t want to be weird about this,” he says softly. “But after Lando’s stupid comment, it’s like … it’s stuck in my head. And now I’m overthinking everything.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking it because Lando’s an idiot.”

Oscar laughs too, the sound breaking the tension a little. “Yeah, he really is.”

You shift a little closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “You don’t need to worry about our size difference,” you say gently. “I don’t.”

He nods, though there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s just … I’ve never been with someone who’s, like … so much smaller than me. I don’t want to … I don’t know, hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “I trust you, Oscar. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”

Oscar’s eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to find some reassurance in your words, something to silence the doubts that Lando’s careless joke planted in his mind. Slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away — the worries, the overthinking, the stupid comments.

It’s just the two of you, and in that kiss, there’s no size difference, no hesitation. Just you and him, connected in a way that feels effortless.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady. “You’re sure?” He whispers, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile, your hand finding his. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Oscar lets out a breath, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

The tension between you melts away, replaced by a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that wasn’t spoken but was felt in every word, every touch. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, as if to prove to himself that he can hold you without worry.

And for the first time since Lando’s stupid joke, Oscar doesn’t think about the size difference. He just thinks about you, and how perfectly you fit in his arms.

***

As you and Oscar walk through the doors of your hotel suite, the adrenaline from the day still buzzes between you both. The aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix win feels almost surreal, hanging in the air between his excited glances and your proud smiles.

Oscar drops his race gear bag on the floor, exhaling loudly as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I still can’t believe it. I actually won.”

You grin, closing the door behind you. “I told you, didn’t I? You’ve been ready for this. You’ve always been ready.”

He turns toward you, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip. He looks different tonight — his usual quiet confidence magnified by the thrill of victory. There’s a hunger in his gaze, something deeper than just excitement for the race.

“It feels … different now,” he admits, stepping closer. “Like, I knew I could win, but doing it? Crossing that line first? Hearing the crowd?” He trails off, his eyes locking on yours, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears.

You step closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “You were incredible out there.”

Oscar’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the race, I just wanted to get back here. With you.”

You bite your lip, the tension between you sparking to life. There’s something in the air tonight, something that feels inevitable. The closeness, the energy — it’s all leading somewhere.

Oscar’s lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I need you,” he whispers, the rawness of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your response is immediate, instinctual. “Then take me.”

His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and heated, and suddenly, all the restraint he’s ever shown around you evaporates. His hands are everywhere — on your waist, in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can’t stand the space between you. You’re breathless as he backs you up toward the bed, his kisses growing more fervent, more desperate.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Oscar pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something deeper than you’ve seen before. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. “I don’t want to rush this.”

You’re already reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The sight of his bare chest, muscles taut and glistening under the dim hotel lights, makes your stomach flip. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but tonight it feels different. He’s yours tonight.

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing over your hips, lifting your shirt just enough to slide his hands underneath.

You shiver at the contact, leaning into him as he slowly works your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His hands linger on your skin, tracing patterns that leave your skin tingling.

As his fingers move to unbutton your jeans, Oscar hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to … hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

You shake your head, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. Oscar quickly strips you of your jeans, his hands trailing up and down your thighs, his gaze fixed on you like you’re the most important thing in the world. And then, for a moment, he pauses.

His eyes drop lower, and when he sees you in nothing but your underwear, something primal flashes across his face. You can see the shift in him — the boyish uncertainty replaced by something darker, more insistent.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. His hands tremble slightly as he runs them over your hips, then slowly slides your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare, exposed for him, seems to steal his breath.

You reach out, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Oscar quickly complies, undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down. But when he finally kicks them off, and his boxers follow, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He’s … big. Much bigger than you expected. The sight of him has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement flooding through you.

His size suddenly makes Lando’s stupid joke replay in your head, but instead of fear, you feel a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. The sight of him, hard and ready, only makes you want him more.

But Oscar hesitates, his eyes darting between you and himself, concern flickering in his expression. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, his voice more serious now. “You’re so … small.”

Your lips part, a flush creeping up your neck. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure, but the truth slips out before you can stop it. “I can take it,” you whisper, your voice shaking with need. “I want it.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems at a loss for words. His hands shake slightly as they slide up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs. He takes his time, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours as he eases a finger inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing for a moment before you relax into his touch. “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, your voice breathless. “Please, Oscar. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He adds another finger, his movements slow and steady as he works you open, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe beneath him. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you try to hold on to the edge of your sanity.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you breathe, though your voice is shaky with both nerves and desire.

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continues to stretch you with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, his voice a mix of concern and restraint.

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. “I know. But I want you, Oscar. I want all of you.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he pauses, as if weighing the gravity of what’s about to happen. But then he nods, his eyes locking on yours as he finally positions himself between your legs. His hands grip your hips, his touch firm but gentle.

“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

Oscar takes a deep breath, and then, slowly — agonizingly slowly — he begins to push inside you. The stretch is immediate, and your body tenses as you feel the overwhelming pressure of him filling you. It’s more than you expected — more than you’ve ever felt before. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s too much.

Oscar freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head quickly, though your breath is shaky. “It’s just … a lot. But I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He bites his lip, clearly unsure, but he keeps going, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. The sensation is intense — painful at first, but as your body adjusts, the pain quickly morphs into something else. Something deeper. Something euphoric.

Oscar is still, hovering above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. “God, you’re … you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can feel … I can see it …”

You look down, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the outline of him, pressing against your lower stomach, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Oscar’s eyes are glued to the sight as well, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Holy … I can see myself inside you,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe. “I’m not hurting you?”

You shake your head, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “No. It feels … it feels incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes darkening as he slowly pulls back, only to push into you again, the movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, but growing more urgent as the pleasure builds between you.

Oscar’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes never leaving the sight of himself inside you. “You’re so … perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His movements grow more desperate, the tension between you building to an almost unbearable intensity. Your body is on fire, every nerve alight as he fills you completely. You can feel him so deep, every inch of him stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced before.

And then, just as the pressure becomes too much, you tip over the edge.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, muscles tightening and pulsing in rhythmic waves. The pleasure is blinding, sharp, your breath hitching as you cry out his name. You’ve never felt anything like it, the intensity of the release leaving you shaking beneath him, your legs trembling as you clutch at his shoulders.

The sudden tightening of your body around him pulls a deep groan from Oscar’s throat, and you feel him lose control. His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he buries himself inside you one last time. His jaw clenches, his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rips through him. His release is overwhelming — hot and thick, spilling into you with an intensity that leaves you both breathless.

Oscar collapses against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he gasps for air. You can feel him still twitching inside you, the last remnants of his orgasm making him shudder against your body. He’s still buried deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you so completely it almost feels unreal.

You’re both silent for a moment, just breathing together, the weight of what just happened settling between you. Then, slowly, Oscar lifts his head, his eyes hazy and dazed as he looks down at you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his voice rough, concern flickering in his eyes even as he struggles to catch his breath.

You nod, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “I’m more than okay.”

His gaze softens, and his hand moves down to your stomach, where you can feel an odd fullness, a strange weight that wasn’t there before. His palm rests over your belly, and when you both look down, you see it — the way your stomach has a slight bulge, rounded out from how much he’s filled you.

Oscar’s eyes widen, his hand pressing down gently as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I … did I do that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as you nod. “I think so.”

A low groan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of your swollen belly. “Jesus … that’s … fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over the small bump.

His obsession with it sends a new wave of heat through you. The feeling of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, is intoxicating. You reach down, covering his hand with yours, pressing it harder against your belly. “You like it?” You ask, teasingly, though you already know the answer.

Oscar’s eyes flash up to yours, dark and filled with something primal. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t … I can’t stop looking at it.”

He keeps rubbing your belly, his fingers tracing over the slight rise, his gaze fixed on the way your body holds all of him. You shiver beneath his touch, the sensation of his hand against your skin sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel him starting to soften inside you, but there’s still a delicious fullness that leaves you squirming, your body craving more despite how completely wrecked you feel.

Oscar seems to notice, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand trails lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit. You gasp, your body jerking in response, and he smiles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“You’re still sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “I can feel it.”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continues to tease you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Oscar …” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can …”

But you can. The tension in your body builds again so quickly, it’s almost dizzying. His touch is relentless, his thumb rubbing slow, firm circles that drive you insane. The combination of the fullness in your belly and the stimulation at your core is overwhelming, your body teetering on the edge of another orgasm before you can even process it.

“I can feel how tight you still are,” Oscar whispers, his voice husky as he watches you squirm beneath him. “God, you’re so perfect.”

His words, his touch, the sight of him above you — it’s all too much. Your body arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips as you fall over the edge again, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful as your muscles contract around him, your body shaking with the force of it.

Oscar groans, his hand still rubbing slow circles over your belly as he watches you come undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You gasp for air, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure slowly subside, leaving you feeling utterly spent. Oscar finally stops his teasing, his hand still resting on your belly as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, his voice gentle, almost tender.

You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “Yeah ��� more than okay.”

He chuckles softly, shifting his weight to lie beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. His hand remains on your belly, though, still fascinated by the slight swell he’s caused.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I’m the lucky one,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection for him.

For a while, you both just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling in. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the quiet intimacy of being together after something so intense.

Oscar’s hand continues to rub slow, soothing circles over your belly, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward sleep, your body completely relaxed and satisfied. Just before you drift off, you hear Oscar’s soft voice in your ear, filled with quiet wonder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how perfectly you fit me.”

And in that moment, you know that nothing has ever felt more right.

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft rays of sunlight across the hotel room. You stir in the bed, blinking your eyes open, the haze of sleep still thick in your mind. As you stretch, your entire body reminds you of the events from the night before. Every muscle feels heavy, a delicious soreness radiating from deep within you. You smile to yourself, the memory of Oscar’s hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Your bladder protests, urging you out of bed, but as soon as you shift to swing your legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of soreness runs up your thighs. You pause, blinking in confusion, then try again — more gingerly this time. Your legs are stiff, the muscles weak and uncooperative as you push yourself to stand.

You barely make it two steps before your legs give out beneath you.

The floor rushes up to meet you, and with a soft thud, you crumple into a heap on the carpet. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, and before you can process what’s happened, Oscar is jolting awake beside you.

“Shit — what was that?” He mumbles groggily, but the second he sees you on the floor, his eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He’s out of bed in an instant, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders as he kneels next to you. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, though your body feels like it’s been through a marathon. “I’m fine, I just …” You bite your lip, wincing as you try to shift. “I guess my legs don’t really work right now.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in concern, and he gently lifts you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you back to the bed like you weigh nothing. “What do you mean your legs don’t work?” His voice is tight, laced with worry, and he lays you down carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll break.

You groan softly as you sink back into the mattress, your legs still trembling from the effort. “I’m just … really sore. Like, everywhere.”

Oscar’s face pales, and you can see the guilt washing over him in an instant. “Oh my God, I hurt you, didn’t I?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hands hovering over you as if he’s afraid to touch you again. “I knew I was too rough. I knew I was too big. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, no,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “It’s not like that. I’m just sore from … you know.” You feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small smile. “It’s a good kind of sore.”

Oscar shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “No, no, this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s strained as you shift slightly in bed. “Oscar, I’m fine. Really. I feel amazing, actually. This is just … the aftermath.” You wiggle your toes experimentally, and while the soreness is still there, it’s more of a reminder of the pleasure you felt last night than actual pain.

Oscar isn’t convinced. He sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “You couldn’t even walk this morning because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache, and you sit up slowly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oscar, you didn’t hurt me,” you say softly. “You made me feel incredible. Yes, I’m sore, but it’s because of how good it was. Not because you did anything wrong.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, you literally fell out of bed.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “Yeah, well … maybe that’s just proof of how well you did.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, but the worry still lingers. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shake your head, your hand moving to rest on his thigh. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before, Oscar. You didn’t hurt me — you made me feel alive.”

His expression softens at your words, but you can still see the guilt etched in the lines of his face. He exhales slowly, his hand covering yours on his thigh. “I just … I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel like you can’t even move the next day.”

“Well,” you say, biting your lip playfully, “if it’s the kind of thing that leaves me this sore, I think I could get used to it.” You wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Oscar’s eyes widen, and he groans.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

You laugh softly, wincing at the tightness in your hips as you shift again. “I mean, there are worse ways to be sore. Besides, this is kind of your fault. You can make it up to me.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in confusion. “How?”

You give him a mischievous look. “By doing it all over again and making sure I can never walk properly again.”

He blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “You’re joking, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I — but … you’re already sore.”

You lean back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. “Exactly. So you might as well make it count.”

For a second, he’s speechless. Then, his lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”

You nod, biting your lip to hide your grin. “Very.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and you can see the tension start to melt away from his shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrug, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a high pain tolerance. Besides, I think I deserve a little reward after surviving last night, don’t you?”

Oscar’s smile fades slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief. “You’re really okay?”

You nod, your hand squeezing his thigh again. “More than okay, Oscar. I’m serious — I want you again. Even if it leaves me sore for a week.”

His expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You grin up at him. “I try.”

Oscar’s hand trails down your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as if testing how much you can handle. “I don’t want to push you too hard,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple.

“You’re not pushing me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want this.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his hand moving lower, tracing over your stomach and down between your legs. The touch is featherlight, testing, but even that small contact sends a shiver through your body.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oscar says, his voice low and serious, but you can already feel the heat building between you again, and the soreness fades into the background of your mind, overwhelmed by the need rising in you.

“I will,” you breathe, already arching into his touch.

Oscar’s lips find yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more urgent as the tension between you sparks back to life. His hand slides lower, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel yourself growing wet again, your body responding to him despite the lingering ache.

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. “You really want to do this again?”

You nod, breathless. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for Oscar to give in. He shifts above you, his body pressing against yours as he positions himself between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, familiar, and despite the soreness, you crave the feeling of him filling you again.

Oscar moves slowly, carefully, but the stretch is just as intense as last night. You gasp as he pushes inside, your body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, but it’s not painful this time — just overwhelming in the best way.

“Oh my God,” Oscar groans, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pushes deeper. “You’re still so tight.”

You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he moves inside you, the pleasure building quickly despite the soreness in your muscles. The mix of discomfort and ecstasy is intoxicating, and soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind blank except for the sensation of him filling you completely.

Oscar’s hands grip your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he finds his rhythm. You can tell he’s holding back, trying not to hurt you, but even with the restraint, the intensity of it all has you teetering on the edge again.

“You’re so perfect,” Oscar murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You shudder beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel yourself nearing the edge once again. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, your body arching into his as the pleasure coils tight inside you, threatening to snap.

Oscar groans in response, his pace picking up, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until you're barely holding on. You can feel the intensity building between you, the friction, the connection driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tighter, his breath hot against your neck as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good. I could do this forever.”

The words send a thrill through you, and you grip him harder, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Oscar,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure inside you mounts, overwhelming, unstoppable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he drives into you again, deeper than before. “Come for me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. His words send you spiraling, your body clenching around him as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You cry out, your legs trembling, your hands gripping him as tight as you can, pulling him closer as your entire body shakes with the force of your release.

Oscar groans as your body tightens around him, his control slipping as he watches you fall apart beneath him. His rhythm falters, then he pushes deep one last time, his release hitting with a shudder as he spills inside you. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself over you, the weight of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Oscar collapses against you, his head resting on your chest as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips as the warmth of his body soothes your soreness.

After a long silence, he finally speaks, his voice soft and a little shaky. “You … okay?”

You laugh softly, your body feeling like it’s been thoroughly worked over, but in the best way possible. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his hair back. “More than okay.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with affection but also a hint of lingering concern. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”

He relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You hum in contentment, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all. “Just make sure I can walk by tomorrow, okay?”

Oscar chuckles, his hand trailing down to your hip as he pulls you close. “No promises.”

***

Oscar steps out of the car first, scanning the airstrip where McLaren’s private jet waits. His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. The morning sun is harsh, casting long shadows on the tarmac, but his focus is entirely on you. He turns back, opening the car door carefully, like he’s preparing for something delicate.

You wince as you try to swing your legs out of the car. The soreness from last night has reached a whole new level, and every movement feels like your muscles are made of lead. You’d tried standing when you first woke up, but it was a no-go. Now, as you attempt to shift out of the car, it’s confirmed: you really can’t walk.

Oscar leans down, his hands gently coming to rest on your hips. “Ready?” His voice is soft, a little sheepish, like he’s still not over the guilt from earlier.

“Do I have a choice?” You joke, though your body aches in a way that’s both painful and satisfying, a reminder of last night’s passion.

He gives you a small smile, his eyes soft as he reaches under your knees and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest as he straightens up.

“Okay, this is officially ridiculous,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

Oscar chuckles, holding you close. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make sure you couldn’t walk properly again.”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”

He grins, but you can see the hint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Too late now. Besides, I think I might enjoy this.”

“You enjoy having to carry me across an airstrip in front of your entire team?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light, though you know it’s about to get a lot more embarrassing once people start noticing.

Oscar shrugs, shifting you slightly in his arms as he starts walking toward the jet. “I enjoy taking care of you.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your earlier embarrassment fading. He’s so earnest, so gentle, even now, and it’s hard to feel anything but safe in his arms.

As you near the jet, you can already see the crew milling around, loading luggage and prepping for departure. And, of course, Lando is leaning casually against the stairs leading up to the plane, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as soon as he spots the two of you.

“Well, well, well,” Lando calls out, his voice full of teasing glee. “What do we have here? Oscar playing the hero?”

You groan softly, burying your face in Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please no,” you mutter under your breath.

Oscar doesn’t slow down as he approaches, though you can feel his body tense slightly. He’s protective, even if he’s trying to laugh it off. “Don’t start, Lando,” he warns, though there’s a playful edge to his voice.

But Lando’s never been one to back off, especially when there’s an opportunity to tease his teammate. He pushes off the stairs and stands directly in front of you two, hands on his hips. “What, did she trip or something? Or is this …” He pauses dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Is this because of Sunday night?”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. You’ve had your fair share of teasing from Lando before, but this — this is next-level mortifying. Oscar adjusts his hold on you slightly, and you can feel the subtle tightening of his grip, like he’s shielding you from whatever’s coming.

“Lando,” Oscar says, his tone warning, but not harsh. “Seriously.”

But Lando’s not done. His eyes dart between you and Oscar, and his grin widens. “Wait — wait. Hold on. Is she not able to walk?”

You don’t say anything, but your silence must be enough because Lando’s grin fades, replaced by a look of genuine shock. “Oh my God. You’re actually serious.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he shifts you in his arms again, turning slightly like he’s ready to move past Lando and end this conversation. But Lando steps closer, his playful demeanor slipping into something more serious as he realizes the situation is … real.

“Mate,” Lando says, his voice lower now, almost incredulous. “Did you … I mean, you didn’t-”

“No,” Oscar cuts him off quickly, his voice firm but not defensive. “I didn’t hurt her.”

You peek out from Oscar’s shoulder, meeting Lando’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m fine,” you add, trying to inject some normalcy back into the situation. “It’s just … you know.”

Lando’s brows shoot up. “I really don’t know.”

You laugh softly despite yourself. “Well, I’m not hurt. Just … sore.”

Lando’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words, but for once, he’s speechless. He glances between you and Oscar, and then shakes his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“I mean, I’ve heard of being ‘swept off your feet,’ but this …” Lando trails off, his eyes flicking down to your legs, which you’re certain look completely useless at this point. “This is next level.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You done?”

Lando lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — next time, maybe leave her able to walk? Just a suggestion.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please make him stop.”

Oscar chuckles, squeezing you gently. “Lando, I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to drop her on you.”

Lando steps aside, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. But seriously,” he adds, glancing at you with a smirk. “You two should probably invest in some crutches.”

You shoot him a withering look, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re not funny.”

“I disagree,” Lando grins. “I’m hilarious.”

Oscar shakes his head, moving past Lando and toward the stairs. As he climbs up, still carrying you effortlessly, you whisper, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Probably not.”

By the time he settles you down in one of the plush seats on the jet, the soreness in your legs has turned into a dull throb. You sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh, stretching out as much as you can without wincing. Oscar sits beside you, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, a silent check-in.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again, his brow still slightly furrowed.

“I promise,” you say, reaching for his hand. “I mean, yes, I probably won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but it’s worth it.”

Oscar gives you a lopsided smile, but the concern doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d actually-”

You cut him off, squeezing his hand. “Oscar, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m the one who asked for it.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Still.”

You lean closer, brushing your lips against his. “It was perfect,” you murmur softly. “You’re perfect.”

He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his body as he leans into your kiss. “If you say so.”

“I do,” you whisper against his lips, then lean back with a grin. “Now, how are you going to carry me once we land?”

Oscar laughs, a sound that’s light and warm. “I’ll figure it out.”

From across the aisle, Lando chimes in, “Just get a wheelchair. Might be worth the investment if this is going to be a common occurrence.”

You throw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Lando.”

But deep down, despite the teasing and the soreness, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

[s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e]

the hate for any non-canon ships, even if they don’t “break” canon ones in TOH fandom is absolutely ridiculous

even ships like gustholomule, with characters who have no canonical love interests, is hated on, simply bc “it’ll never happen”

shipping is almost NEVER abt what will and won’t be canon, it’s abt character dynamics, exploring relationships, seeing (a) character/s you adore be happy and hold hands with someone who also adores them

and even tho huntric began as a crackship/pipe dream, as both their characters and personalities were developed more, we just have more evidence that they would be good together (which tbh I need to make a post on)

BUT even if we never got that, and there wasn’t any ‘real’ connection between them, that still wouldn’t matter and people would still be 100% entitled to shipping them

Something that really bothers me that a lot of the TOH fandom doesn't seem to understand is that Goldric/Huntric, as a ship, did NOT originate from Edric and Hunter briefly interacting. Goldric/Huntric is one of the oldest if not the "original" Hunter ship. In fact, that's why it's called Goldric!

It was a ship before we even knew Hunter's name, and before Hunter even showed up in the show! We knew that both Hunter and Edric were 16 year olds, and everyone was really hopeful for TOH having an actual M/M romance that wasn't just the gay dads trope (unfortunately, TOH falls short in its representation for MLM).

The ship is a crackship, absolutely, but by no means is it a ship because the two of them interacted for a few moments. It is a ship born out of the hope for an main M/M pairing and a ship born out of the acknowledgement of how these two characters have (unintentional) parallels and foils within their stories.

By no means does anyone have to ship it, but it's frustrating to see people think that it's just a ship because they "stood next to each other" or that it originated that late into the show. (But, to be clear, even if that was the case, there's nothing wrong with it!) The TOH fandom is the first time I've seen in a fandom where people genuinely bash on others for non-canon or crack ships, so I just wanted to clear up the origin of Goldric and explain that it is one of the "original" Hunter ships.

[januaryembrs]

SWEET AND RIGHT AND MERCIFUL | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says: OMGGGG EM CONGRATS ON 3K !!! soooo deserved and i’m so so happy for you!!! please may i request tea for sunshine!reader 🥹🩷 maybe the moment when she realises just how much she likes him (perhaps she was in heavy denial beforehand)? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOUUUUU 🩷🩷🩷

description: The Sunshine rookie Spencer had heard so much about is the first one to make him laugh since he got out of prison.

length: 4.1k

warnings: Lucky Strikes episode, talks of humans eating humans, cm gore, blood, violence etc. UnSub gets creepy with reader. sex jokes, spitting water.

author's note: dedicated to @avis-writeshq because she is my GIRL when it comes to Spencer Reid x Sunshine brain rot, and also because she requested a Drabble for them but I couldn't stop writing and here we are with a full ficlet.

It had been three weeks, three painfully long weeks since Spencer Reid had returned to the BAU, nearly ten years since she’d seen him lecturing at Pennsylvania. He looked different, but then Emily had said quite literally on her second day that their endgame was getting him out of prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and it seemed only natural that being a fed in a foreign jail would knock someone around. 

She’d been too nervous to speak to him on their first day working together, had stuck to Luke’s side like glue because he was closest in age to her and he didn’t seem to mind the way she could speak a hundred miles per hour. They had only really had any contact when she was chatting with Garcia in the kitchenette at lunch, when she was talking to the tech whizz about the crochet set she’d bought even though she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the way everything bobbed and weaved and bobbed again, and how the woman on youtube seemed to make the tiny bumblebee seem so achievable while hers looked like a yellow turd. 

He’d come up behind the two of them, his footsteps deadly silent despite the fact he had sneakers on, and she wouldn’t have even known he was there had Penelope not lit up with glee at seeing Reid poking around their office again. 

“Coffee, honey?” Penelope asked, looking over the girl’s shoulder, and it was only when he murmured a ‘mhm’ that the rookie noticed he’d crept up behind her, leaning over to grab his mug from the cupboard, and she hopped to the side immediately. 

“S-sorry, just shove me out the way next time, my mom says I have zero spacial awareness.” She said with a nervous laugh, and he didn’t seem to care as he granted her a small glance, pushing the button on the coffee machine and clunking his mug beneath the tap. 

“Have you met our newbie, Spence?” Penelope asked, friendly as ever even though the women caught the way his jaw seemed to feather with clenched muscle, like he was holding himself back from snapping, and his eyes were tired as he looked over at Garcia, barely flicking his gaze to the new face despite her prompt, “This is Y/N, she’s joined us from cold cases,” 

“Hi,” The woman chirped with a quick wave, despite the fact he was stood only a foot away from her, “It’s nice to meet you after everyone’s spoken so highly about you, Penny said you like invented the term genius,”

Spencer pursed his lips, trying not to make a backhanded comment about how dumb that sounded because of course he didn’t invent it, of course it was coined in the mid seventeenth century from the latin gignere to mean ‘exceptional natural ability’, and the last time he checked he wasn’t even born then. But he stopped himself, because she was just being nice, and it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t been sleeping or that he couldn’t eat dinner without waiting to hear a buzzer go off to let him know when it was meal time, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that she was just a few decibels too loud with her cheerful tone and smile that he could hear in every syllable. 

So he just gave her an awkward smile, and an acknowledging nod, the whir of effort from the coffee machine slowing down as his drink finished pouring, and he grabbed his mug, not even caring that the ceramic scolded his fingertips because he’d felt so much worse before and gotten through it. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” He said coldly, not returning the sentiment, and he’d turned before he could see the way her smile dropped, her brows creasing in worry as she watched him head back towards his desk.

“Did I say something wrong?” She asked with a small voice, and Penelope wrapped an arm around her shoulder giving her a kind squeeze and a sad smile. 

“It’s not you, sweetie, he’s just-” Garcia swallowed, her own pout growing over her red painted lips, “He’s not like the Reid we used to know, he’s struggling,” 

And so she nodded, chewing at the inside of her cheek with a frown. It felt silly to have her feelings hurt, except she’d been thinking about the day two agents from the BAU came to give her sociology class a talk on geographical and societal factors compelling crime, how she’d headed straight to her tutor that evening to swap her major to criminology. Because she’d hung on every word Agent Hotchner and Agent Reid had said, which definitely had nothing to do with the fact the younger of the two was so dreamy in his glasses and tweed jacket. 

She’d been excited to meet him again after nearly ten years, maybe even thank him for changing the trajectory of her entire life. He was still handsome, and despite the fact she’d grown up since then, had only thought about him as that hot guy who gave a lecture in her class that one time, she still had felt that silly fluttering feeling in her chest the second she saw him talking with Emily in her office the morning he got back. 

And he’d look at her like she was a girl scout selling cookies; a passing face, a summer temp, no one worth getting to know.

She pretended like she wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed, he’d been to prison for god sake. The guy had bigger problems than a little nobody girl from another department.

Things weren’t much better the day they got the case.

“You might want to cover your eyes for this bit, my little sugar plum,” Penelope said, looking at the rookie with soft eyes, and Emily smiled at her gently, knowing the girl had a bit of an innocent streak, not completely unlike Penny when she’d started the job. 

“Why? I’m sure it’s nothing-” She cut herself off when Penelope clicked onto the next page, and the image of a woman who could only be described as utterly butchered flicked onto the screen in full size, “Oh,” 

“Oh, indeed, rookie,” Rossi said with a wince, looking at the mulch of blood and muscle where her legs had been removed, and her fingers severed clean off as if with a carving knife. 

Luke looked up at the girl, where she’d gone a little peaky, and he patted her back gently, sliding his bottle of water over to her without a word. 

“All the telltale signs are here,” JJ said on a sighed breath, images of the rest of the crime scene flicking up on the screen.

“Pentagram, legs and fingers gone,” Rossi agreed, Luke and Matt looking between the team with a questioning glance, as she downed a sip of the water. 

“There’s even one neat aspect right here,” Emily said, the tip of her finger pointing to one of the pictures of the floor outside the bathroom stall where the body was found, “Her earrings and jewellery are laid out equidistant on the floor,”

“Sure as hell looks like him,” Rossi said, and she cleared her throat, looking to the older man on her left. 

“Like who?” She asked, her eyes snapping to Spencer who opened his mouth to speak, which seemed to be the only time he ever did bother making conversation; when there was a body on their hands.

“Floyd Feylnn Ferrell,” He said, as if the original case had only been wrapped up last week, but then with his memory she wasn’t exactly surprised, “A psychotic cannibal who’d been killing under the radar for years,”

“He killed ten prostitutes and then moved up to low risk victims,” Prentiss added, the rookie’s eyes wide. It wasn’t anything she’d never heard of, but it never made it easier knowing something even worse was coming after the murders. 

“He kept slipping through the cracks and avoiding justice so people referred to him as ‘Lucky’” JJ said, her eyes darting over the crime scene photos that seemed to take her back ten years to when they’d seen almost an identical set of photos, like Hotch was about to call ‘Wheels up in twenty’ any minute now.

Rossi sighed, looking at the younger girl who watched him wide eyed, “Have you eaten today, rookie?”

She shook her head dumbly, “Why?”

“Because the worst of it was he owned a barbeque joint,” Her face dropped even more, if that was even possible, “And he fed one of the victims to the search party,”

Her hand flew to her mouth, blinking at the seasoned agent in terror, because that was something she hadn’t ever thought would enter someone’s mind until she heard it. As simple as it sounded, for someone who had seen cases going back twenty, thirty years, some particularly heinous in nature, there were new lengths she didn’t realise a human could ever go to, let alone would.

Penelope stopped, shutting her laptop lid and glancing at JJ in a plea for help, as the thought of what had happened after the Ferrell case rushed to the front of her mind, when the guy she’d thought wanted to take her out on a date shot her. 

“I have a computer…” The blonde trailed off, heading for the door to the office room with a dazed look in her eyes, and the rookie watched her leave, her neck and palms clammy as she thought about what Rossi had just said. 

“I think I have a computer too-” She rushed, and she bolted from her seat before she could think of anything else, dashing after the technical analyst because she feared she was going to throw up if she didn’t get a breath of fresh air. 

Spencer watched her hair swish as she scurried out the room, and he wondered how long she would last if she couldn’t stomach just a few photos. He had struggled with the gore at first, sure, but he’d never ran. Maybe he was being cruel, but he couldn’t say that a girl like her exactly fit the part of an FBI agent, she seemed… pure, like driven snow, and if anything he’d hate for the bloodied parts of their job to stain a girl so squeaky clean.

Emily nudged his shoulder, nodding towards her retreating figure when he looked up at her questioningly, “You keep an eye on her in this case. She’s still learning,” 

And Spencer grit his teeth, because he hated the idea of babysitting when he had a dozen of his own problems, but he nodded indignantly. 

He just hoped she didn’t make things too hard for him. 

–

The door swung open behind Ferrell, the UnSub’s sister, the midday Florida heat boring down on her back, Spencer bristling at her right as Luke pocketed his badge. 

And then there he was. The guy from the photo, his thick, wiry glasses exact matches to the ones he’d been wearing the day he got caught, though she supposed a mental facility didn’t exactly have funds for replacements. 

“It’s no problem, Lori, I’ll speak with them,” His voice was a strong southern twang, and almost chillingly calm. His sister looked over her shoulder at him, the woman fretful as she glanced between the four agents, ten years of troubles on her shoulders. She sighed, running a hand over her neck nervously and headed back inside to be with her son, leaving them alone with their suspect on the doorstep, “You’ll have to wait, I’m on my way to church. It’s right around the corner so I’m within the thousand permitted yards from the monitoring station,”

He quickly glanced at where Matt and Luke stood behind her, the former with his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed up the thin, twiggly guy who looked like the type to live in his mother’s basement until he died, not the type to cannibalise and murder. 

His eyes darted over to where Reid towered over him, familiarity flicking in his face as he looked at the agent, and he smiled slowly, like something out of a horror, the uncanny valley of a face so normal when she knew he was so sick somewhat terrifying to her. He fed one of the victims to the search party. She heard it rattling around her skull as she saw the whites of his teeth, and she imagined him ripping into her then and there, her hands shaking.  

“Hey, I remember you. Where’s your friend, Agent Morgan?” Floyd said, and she felt Spencer tense up beside her, which she guessed meant it was a sore subject as she jumped into the conversation, her lips moving before she could think better of it. She’d always had a habit of talking too much when she was nervous, or to fill gaps, or when she could tell someone was uncomfortable, she’d always been told it was one of her more irksome traits. 

“You wouldn’t mind if we took a look around, would you? Just while you’re gone?” She asked politely yet, for once, she regretted ever opening her mouth the second he turned his attention on her.

She felt something cold and dreadful run down her spine as he looked straight at her, his sepia eyes trailing down over her neck, running over her body and down to her hands that fidgeted at her sides.

They waited on baited breath, her stomach flipping with sickness as that manic smile drew even wider, trained solely on her, a thought privy only to himself somewhat amusing to him. She felt herself lean away without even meaning to, incidentally feeling Spencer’s arm bump into hers as she did, and the three men seemed to tense up as they watched Ferrell smell the air, savouring every second of it, his eyes blown wide with something unreadable. Lustful yet starved, like he was on a four day fast standing next to an open roast. 

“You’re awful pretty for an agent,” Floyd said, that drawling accent of his turning her stomach, and his eyes trailed down over her calves, and she cursed herself for wearing a midi skirt. But she hated jeans on her thighs, hated the way Florida air clung humidly to her skin when she didn’t let it breathe, but she thought she might just hate the way his mouth filled with saliva more, “Do you like running, agent?”

“Sometimes,” She whispered, shrinking in on herself even more as he took a step out of the home. 

And Spencer felt his chest drop at the sound of it. She sounded petrified. But then, he would be too if someone his size looked at him like he was a five-course banquet. And he regretted ever thinking of her as babysitting, as defective, because she was clearly trying her best, and this was where it had gotten her. Right on the UnSub’s menu.

“I bet you do a lot of running, chasing after bad guys, huh?” Floyd pushed, leering towards her with another smell of her perfume, and she could have sworn his smile only widened into something cheshire cat-esque. She nodded with a worried gulp, her breath picking up when his hand began moving up to where a rogue stray hair fell out of her bun, running over her collar bone, her heart beating so wild and heavy beneath it. 

And it was enough for Spencer to act, because within the blink of an eye, he’d side stepped in front of the rookie who seemed frozen in her spot, and Floyd’s arm was shoved away where it hit Spencer’s bicep. Ferrell was forced to stop looking over her clammy skin with heavy swallows like he was imagining just how she would cut and marinate, and instead was confronted with a frown that could send any man scarpering, Spencer’s lips pressed into something furious, his shoulders seeming only more broad than they usually did when he purposely blocked Ferrell’s view from her. 

“You’d better get going, Floyd,” Spencer said, his voice a deadly sort of calm, and his arm stuck out behind him to keep her where she was as he spoke, “You’re going to be late for church,” 

And Floyd listened, despite his smarmy smile as he dared a look at her when he passed by, despite the fact his eyes trailed back down to her jugular like he was ready to sever it there and then to string her up and cure. 

Spencer’s hand fished around his pocket, glaring at the back of Floyd’s head as he strolled down the street, tossing the keys to Alvez, “Take her back to the car, don’t let her out of your sight,” 

And the two of them listened while he and Matt swept the house, because anyone would be insane not to when Spencer looked so angry he could have put a hole through Ferrell’s head without blinking an eye.

–

“Eating people, who eats people, what on earth is that all about,” She muttered, the four of them in the SUV heading back to the station. She sat at the front with Spencer where he drove because Luke and Matt were gentlemen and had offered her the extra leg room, and Spencer had zero qualms because he was under strict instruction to keep an eye on her. 

She did that alot, he realised. Muttered when she was thinking about something. Where he went deadly silent when troubled, too focused on sorting through the mental files that seemed to be so resistant to organise these days, she was his entire opposite, always talking or humming a tune under her breath or playing an invisible set of piano notes on her knee, something to always keep the space filled. 

He’d hated it the first few days, the sound like a blaring alarm coming from over by her desk, cutting through his limited attention span, grating on his nerves and making him have to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling at her to shut the fuck up. But then, it wasn’t exactly personal to her, even the sound of the coffee machine had been enough to pull at his hair in frustration. At twelve years old, it spluttered and whirred and kicked back at every drink it made, every second of it winding Spencer’s patience up like a jack in the box.

But he found himself listening in on her mumbles, glancing over at how her frown screwed up her doe eyes, her lip pulling between her teeth whenever there was a tiny pause in between her words, before she started again. He’d quickly realised it was the easiest cheat in the book to know when something was bothering her, that she was so much of an open book, not at all cold and guarded like him or so many other profilers he knew, that he wouldn’t need to bother deducing her like she was his next UnSub to know what was wrong. She would just tell him as it was, wear everything vulnerable on her face. 

“Something the matter?” He pressed, Luke also keeping a close watch on her from the back seat as she shook her head to herself, and her head snapped over to the driver’s side, her expression entirely caught even though she’d not exactly been subtle about her turmoil.

“M-me? “ She pointed to herself, and Spencer nodded, trying not to smile because sometimes she could be clueless, not the dumb kind but something sweet, naive, and he found himself somewhat jealous that she didn’t need to be the smartest person in the room to be worth something, she could just be herself, “Yeah, I guess I just,” She huffed, running her hands over her skirt, “I don’t get why anyone would want to eat someone else, it just-” She shivered, not in a theatrical or fake way but like a ghost had walked over her grave just thinking about Floyd smelling at her. 

“Some cultures used to cannibalise other members of their society as funerary practices as early as twenty-four thousand years ago,” Spencer said, and she stopped fidgeting to listen to him, “There’s evidence that the Magdelanians in North Europe used to turn their dead’s skulls into cups they would then drink out of,”

“That I can understand, those guys were probably starving and it’s not like they can just chow down on a damn sabertooth as an easy lunch or something,” She said, and he bit his lip from stopping her to explain that the two of them were about four thousand years apart from one another, “But like, when there’s a burger king or taco bell on every corner, why are you eating women. Who eats women for breakfast lunch and dinner, like raise your hands which one of you would ever eat a woman,” 

Luke sniggered, and Matt smirked at the innuendo of it, the double meaning of her words flying entirely over her head.

“I dunno, Alvez, do you like eating women?” Simmons asked, a smug grin in his words as the boys cackled childishly, and Spencer rolled his eyes with amusement. 

“Pretty partial to it actually,” Luke chimed in, and she whirled in her seat to look behind her of scepticism, “How about you, Reid?”

“You guys are so weird,” She murmured, and Spencer took a quick glance off the road to see her looking entirely baffled, her feathers ruffled at the fact she was left out of the joke. 

“They’re talking about oral sex,” He explained, because he remembered when that had been him for the longest time, and how it had made him feel like the butt of every punchline to not understand why everyone would smile at him knowingly, yet he found himself doing the exact same to her, his lips twitching at their corners.

Spencer watched her scoff, looking back at the two grown children in the back, “I take it back, you guys aren’t weird, your gross. Why can’t you be mature like Spencer?” She huffed, sitting back in her seat and fixing her skirt, “See if you were grownups like Agent Reid and I, you’d know the term isn’t eating a woman, it’s called focalratio,” 

Matt pulled a face of confusion, flicking his eyes to her, “Isn’t that to do with a camera lens?” 

“Do you mean fellatio?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest not to smirk because he didn’t want to make her feel stupid, except she just waved a hand at him.

“That’s what I said. I see why they call you Doctor Read and not Doctor Listen,” She giggled at her own words, watching the trees go by her passenger window, almost entirely oblivious to the way Spencer’s face cracked into a grin, something easy and charmed in his chest. 

And for a moment, he saw exactly what Penelope had been talking about when she wouldn’t stop talking about how likeable she was and how it was harder to hate her than it was to love her. 

Luke took a sip of his water, the bottle nearing the end as the Florida sun warmed it up, and he figured he might as well finish it before it became stagnant and undrinkable. 

“Actually the term fellatio describes only male genitalia, the female equivalent would be cunnilingus-” Spencer explained, and he knew she was listening because he felt her eyes on the side of his face as he spoke, except he was cut off by the sound of her screaming so loud he nearly slammed on the breaks then and there. 

“LUKE!” She yelled, and when Spencer looked, she had water dripping down the back of her hair, soaking her shirt to her skin, her black bra straps suddenly clear as day as they pressed against her dove white top. Alvez looked mortified, and he found himself apologising between coughs, water dribbling down his chin where he’d been so shocked to hear that word coming from Spencer’s mouth that he’d completely forgone swallowing and simply spat the whole thing out right through the gap between the headrest and the seat. 

And Spencer laughed; it was quiet and foreign and nothing on the roaring cacophony coming from Matt in the back, as her and Luke descended into a squabble, her proclaiming him as a disgusting alpaca man as she tried to dry herself off with his jacket. But she caught it, the small chuckle coming from her left, and she looked at him, the sodden shirt almost forgotten when she saw him laugh. 

She thought then that she wanted to make him laugh like that a million more times. And she knew she had it bad for Spencer Reid all over again.

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏🏻 pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he’s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[prettypinksusi]

lovesick ♡

synopsis: how gojo would be when has a crush on you.

paring(s): teen! gojo satoru x gender-neutral reader.

disclaimer(s): none!

teen!gojo who flirts with you 24/7.

— gojo constantly teases you, throwing out over-the-top compliments like, "you’re soooo lucky i’m not blinded by your beauty," or calling you ridiculous nicknames like princess or sweetheart.

— but when you tease him back? its a whole new story. he gets flustered and deflects by laughing too loudly or making a dumb joke.

teen!gojo who tries (&fails) to impress you.

— to impress you, he brags about his workout routine, saying he can bench press twice his weight.

— when you challenge him to prove it, he quickly changes the topic to, "why are you so obsessed with me lifting weights, huh?”

— gojo swears his sunglasses make him look cool, but you once caught him squinting at a menu because they're prescription.

— he’s convinced he's irresistible, so he shows off constantly-basketball trick shots, balancing a broom on one finger, or "accidentally" letting you see how easily he aces a test he didn't study for.

teen!gojo who is always listening to you.

— gojo remembers the random details you casually mention, like your favorite snack or that you're stressed about an upcoming quiz.

— the next day, he'll "magically" have your favorite candy in his pocket— or whisper the quiz answers he definitely stole from the teacher's desk.

teen!gojo who gets jealous easily.

— if anyone flirts with you, gojo will swoop in, throwing an arm around you and loudly proclaiming, "sorry, they’re busy being obsessed with me!"

— he’ll act nonchalant, but if you show any interest in someone else, he'll sulk until you ask what's wrong. typical!!!!

teen!gojo who panics when ur nice to him.

— if you compliment him genuinely-like saying he looks good without his sunglasses-he'll short-circuit for a second before brushing it off with a cocky, "i know, right?"

teen!gojo who has ridiculous pick up lines for you.

— “if beauty were a crime, you'd be serving a life sentence."

— “do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?"

— when you roll your eyes, (per usual) he adds,
"hey, that was gold! you’re just in denial."

teen!gojo who enjoys texting you whenever, wherever.

— gojo sends you memes at 2 am with captions like, "us, if you'd just admit your feelings."

— and if you don't reply immediately, he texts, "?? hello? did you die? or are you just playing hard to get like always?"

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o- charismatic killer trope.

1. SUNRISE SCARE

Ethan: Wake up, baby. I can see you sleeping in.

Y/n: i am awake. im already brushing my teeth.

Ethan: no, you aren’t. I’m watching you right now.

Y/n: how

Ethan: The window. You’re so vulnerable when you’re asleep.

Y/n: I can’t see you.

Ethan: But that’s the point, love.

Ethan: please get out of that nightgown, before I take it off for you.

Y/n: why? what is it doing to you?

Ethan: I’ll show you later.

Y/n: oh ?

Ethan: good morning by the way ❤️

2. TEASER

Y/n: hey. you get the answer for #12?

Ethan: Oh, dear. My girlfriend is cheating on the math homework.

Y/n: im not cheating, dummy. im asking an educational question.

Ethan: If you can cheat so easily on calculus, how do I know you’re loyal to me?

Y/n: because we both know what would happen to me if I would cheat on you, ethan.

Ethan: and what’s that?

Y/n: …

Ethan: you think I would kill you?

Y/n: don’t lie to me. we both know you can’t control yourself around me. i know you touched yourself while stalking me when we weren’t dating.

Ethan: such disgusting thoughts. I might need to fuck your brains out to get rid of them, don’t you think?

Y/n: in what way would you take my brains out? With a knife? Or with your cock?

Ethan: we’re in class

Y/n: are you hard right now?

Y/n: hello? it’s just a question.

Y/n: if you don’t answer me, i’ll ask Chad to fuck me instead. i’ll enjoy letting him bend me over.

Ethan: I can’t wait to see his blood on my hands. what day should I do it? today? kill him tonight?

Y/n: it was a joke. i just didn’t realize i turned you on that fast, ethan.

Ethan: don’t act dumb with me. you know what you’re fucking doing.

Y/n: no, i don’t. you should really answer my question.

Ethan: don’t act like you aren’t aware that I’m throbbing in my jeans

Ethan: stop acting like this

Ethan: i’m gonna fucking punish you so hard tonight

Y/n: lol because of giving you an erection?

Ethan: i can’t wait to see how much you’ll laughing when I’ll have a knife to your throat.

Ethan: making you scream with my dick.

Ethan: you want that?

Y/n: yes

Ethan: fucking whore.

Y/n: you love it.

Ethan: I do.

[kedsandtubesocks]

Mr. Winter

Santa!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, marriage of convenience, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is older), yearning, fluff with light angst, grumpy but sweetheart!Joel, caregiver!Joel with slight sugar daddy!Joel vibes, brief moments of dealing with toxic family, Joel lifts reader once with his Santa strength, spicy thoughts, heavy making out, fingering, glove & finger sucking, use of “good girl,” Joel’s dirty talk & referring to himself as “old man,” one light ass smack, reader wears lingerie, Santa!kink (?), use of gendered language

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: yeah… hi lol this is heavily influenced and based off “The Santa Clause” films but you don’t need to know those to read - biggest thank you to my favorite enablers & Santa’s cutest helpers @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett ily…also happy holidays, if you’re reading this I can’t thank you enough & hope a little magic comes your way ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics

You wrote the dumb letter at the end of the semester class party. You’re thankful everyone decided to write papers instead of having a final, a grad school blessing, which meant class was done by the last week of November. Your professor even had set up the cutest Letters to Santa Station, and your friend begged you to write one with her.

So you did.

And you jokingly asked Santa for one thing - to send you a boyfriend.

Of course you know the big guy isn’t real and wouldn’t ever answer. It’s why you didn’t think much of it.

But now, if there’s any hope Santa could be real, you wonder if maybe he could just grant you one small wish…

You’re happy for your best friend, you truly are. Her wedding reception is beautiful, you just need a moment.

It finally hit you that you’re the last of your friend group not married. And as the cozy colder winter days bring in the couples closer during the slow song, you simply take a moment outside to collect yourself.

The once warmed spiked hot chocolate you’ve been enjoying now sits cold, not so festive.

Someone calls to you, says your name in a thick southern molasses smooth accent you don’t recognize.

Turning to the door, you definitely don’t know who this man is because you would have remembered someone this stunning.

Dressed down in some jeans and a sharp looking blazer, there’s almost a cowboy like air to this man. Rugged, older with lovely streaks of wrinkles and shining grey hair, a gorgeous sharp hawk nose, and dark as the deep earth eyes stare at you - he’s flat out gorgeous.

“Got your letter.” He cryptically announces, and confusion clusters in you.

This handsome stranger lifts up the overly festive candy cane colored envelope, the one you picked at the party a few days ago when you wrote your letter to Santa.

Slightly panicked, now you question who this man is.

The mystery man fidgets, painting him younger. He shifts to put his hands on his hips.

“Alright… there ain’t no easy way to put this, so imma just say it.” He starts. “I got many names… Father Christmas, Ol’ Saint Nick. Shit like that.”

Those dark unearthed eyes stare unflinching at you.

“But you can call me Joel.”

“Wait…What are you saying?” Bewilderment and skepticism bubble in your voice.

He sighs, ancient and tired, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t make me say it.” He grumbles.

“Wait are you saying you’re like, fucking Santa Claus or something?” You can’t even believe it.

His large hand moves away from his face, and the man, Joel, stays silent. The somber stillness makes this feel worse.

A disbelief filled laugh escapes you.

“Yeah okay, nice try.” You lift your drink to him, a slight mock cheers, then take a sip. It’s cold as hell and tastes bitter.

“I know it sounds fucking crazy as shit-”

“The Santa I know wouldn't cuss.” You playfully cut him off deciding to now embrace this joke.

His face grows foul, hard with a frown, not so very Kris Kringle like. With deliberate steps he moves slightly closer to you.

“Two years ago… who d’ya think dropped off that snow globe, huh?” His voice dips low, bordering a deadly seriousness, and you inhale sharp.

Two years ago, you and your mom’s favorite snow globe shattered. It felt silly getting so upset over such a strange object, but you couldn’t find a replacement anywhere.

Then after everyone had opened their gifts and family had left, you spotted a lone gift still tucked away hidden under the tree.

It was the snow globe, new and perfectly wrapped. You know you didn’t get it for your mom and the way she teared up, she didn’t get it for you. None of your other family members knew the significance of it.

“It has to be a Christmas miracle,” your mom had said. You didn’t believe it.

Now you stare a bit horrified and in shock at the man who knows about this.

Silence suffocates the air between you and him.

“Make a reindeer show up.” You blurt out.

The man, Joel, snorts dry and amused.

“Don’t need reindeer. S’a myth.” He replies low.

Your eyes narrow suspicious at him now.

“Can you make it snow?”

“M’not Jack Frost.” He scoffs offended.

“Santa always leaves snow from his boots.” You argue back.

“It’s for the dang effect.” Joel argues back.

“Can’t be Santa then.” You shrug.

He makes a disgruntled sigh of a noise. Glaring hard, he waves his hand out to the wind. Suddenly the wind blows strong, a howling gust rushing against you, so blustery you need to cover your face. When the wind stops you realize you’re lightly covered in snow.

You almost drop your not so hot chocolate.

Joel must sense your shock. He takes your drink from your hand, takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Look… came here for a reason. I think we might be able to help each other out.

He’s here with a proposition.

“I… need a wife.” He declares with a deadpan like energy.

Now you almost laugh again.

“What, did Mrs Claus divorce you?” You joke.

“Never been married.” He frowns.

Oh.

“So why now?” Curiosity peeks up in you fast.

“Legal shit.” His words don’t allow for more prying. “I’ll explain it all later. Just needed to find ya to see if we can get this done.”

“Wait, why me?”

He lifts up that damn letter again, waves it around.

“Y’said you wanted a boyfriend.” He almost sounds bored.

“This isn’t the same.” You squak, indignant.

“Look,” he now returns to that deep somber tone.

“I need this. And you’d be… compensation.” His voice shifts slightly awkwardly.

He mentions your loans, all the debt you have, and how he might be able to help out. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets.

Commotion finally arrives at the door leading back inside.

Joel takes a sip of your drink, then hands it back to you.

“Think it over.” He says low.

The door slides open, and your other friend flings her head out.

“Hey come on! They’re cutting the cake!” She brightly exclaims, but her face scrunches up confused.

“Wait, who were you talking to?” She asks.

Your eyes flicker to the spot where Joel would be.

No one stands next to you. All that’s left is snow and the imprint of boots.

You also notice…your hot chocolate has been warmed.

-

“Santa lives here? In Austin Texas? What happened to the North Pole?” Walking behind him, you sound like a bummed out kid who just found out Santa isn’t real.

“Shit said to throw the FBI off.” Joel Miller replies bluntly, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not.

His house, rustic and cozy, holds a spacious warmth. But it feels vacant, unusually quiet for a man known to bring joy and the personification of Christmas warmth.

“So how does one become Santa?” You ask.

“Long story.” Another curt reply.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your wife shouldn’t I know these things?” Just saying the words aloud didn’t seem real.

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

The new home draws in your full attention trying to soak it all in. So many photos of two girls cover the walls and they grow right before your eyes. Curiously, you ask about them.

“They’re my daughters.” Joel answers simple.

Your eyes go wide.

He had children.

“They’re the reason why we’re here actually.” Joel adds while he moves around his cozy kitchen.

He reveals ‘Santa Claus’ is simply a title for someone to fill. It’s a hefty role. Joel was able to get away without having a spouse with his first daughter, and then again with his second. But now with her about to enter college, Joel was alone.

The stipulation to marry now stood between him and having the title stripped from him.

“Why do you even need to get married?”

“Some shit about needing companionship and other fuckin’ bullshit.” He gruffly explains.

“You could retire.” You offer.

“Don’t wanna.” He roughly replies grabbing papers out of a drawer.

“So your daughters… I’m sure they must’ve been over the moon knowing their dad was Santa.” You try breaking the ice more.

Placing a pen on the table, Joel sighs.

“Look, we don’t gotta do this.” He snaps tight. “This small talk and shit. The sooner we can get this signed and started, the sooner we can get this over with.”

His words sting, becoming sharp barbs that dig in deep.

“Fine.” You grab the pen ready to sign whatever the hell this guy has for you.

A back door opens, and commotion follows. A handsome younger man, with the same dark eyes like Joel that instead sparkle, walks into the kitchen from the garage. Following him are two much older gentleman, one with kind eyes and the other with a glare that could whither a field

“Well now, is this the soon to be Mrs Joel Miller?” The youngest of the bunch says bright and sunny.

Joel introduces you to his brother, Tommy, who is an exact opposite to his sour puss older sibling. Frank, an old family friend, is here to officiate the ceremony. His husband, Bill, would be the other witnesses besides Tommy. Frank and Tommy are thankfully sweet, obviously curious about you.

“Can we get this fuckin’ done with?” Joel snaps.

Now your annoyance triples, and you’re thankful Tommy and Frank chide Joel. Bill snorts amused.

But wanting to leave now too, you’re quick to agree to start the ceremony.

It’s done short and simple in the kitchen - Frank asking you and Joel to take each other as husband and wife. You agree briskly. Joel just nods. There’s not even an exchange of rings, or a kiss to conclude the ceremony.

Joel simply sticks his hand out, a damn handshake becomes your official agreement, your binding wedding vow.

You maybe should have read over the marriage agreement more, could have been smarter and brought a lawyer, even one that might have believed you. But you’re pissed. You simply sign the papers, let Frank go over the documentation, then gather your things.

“Wait, you ain’t gonna stay for lunch?” Joel suddenly questions seeing you get up to leave.

“We got this over with, didn't we, husband? That’s all you wanted right?” Your words are clipped, polite but sharp, that they even sting you.

You apologize to Tommy and Frank for meeting like this. Yet you don’t say another word to your new husband who feels more of a stranger than ever.

-

When you get back to your mom’s place a new sticky note sits on your night stand.

Sorry about today, let me make it up to you.

-J

Underneath is his phone number.

Guess he’s showing off the very classic Santa trick of slipping into houses without anyone noticing he pulled off a breaking and entering.

He answers on the second ring when you call.

“I got Santa’s personal number?” You offer with a gentle treading tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel huffs.

It eases the tension. But hesitation still brews thick, an awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger who just so happens to be your new husband.

“Uh, shit…Sorry about earlier. Didn’t end up eating lunch. You up for a bite to eat? I'll pay?” His voice is open, letting you decide.

Agreeing, he shows up to your door in record timing.

“Is this traveling fast a Santa thing? How can you travel so fast?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

Joel simply smirks, not answering, but the silence dances playful now.

He takes you to a cozy barbecue spot on the lake. The Texas winter makes the days crisp, almost stuck between autumn and full blown winter. But in the midday sun, it's rather lovely.

“I’m surprised you’re not busy with everything coming up.” You’re trying stepping into the conversation as eased and natural as possible.

“If I’m tryin’ to scramble to get shit done by now, then I ain’t doing my job right.” He says taking a sip of his beer, and his words ignite a burst of heat in you.

It's attractive… he’s attractive. You can’t deny that.

Lunch is surprisingly casual, relaxed. Joel asks about grad school and about your major, asks about your family. It vaguely feels like a regular first date.

However this is treading the waters between you and him and this strange new circumstance.

This situation has been gnawing at you. Anxiously, you wonder if he judges you for agreeing so quickly, for jumping in because of the money.

“Hey,” it's like he senses your quiet already.

“You still don’t gotta do this. I can head back home right now, rip up those papers and start again.” A sincere tone, gilded in understanding, rings in his voice.

He’s giving you a way out. You shake your head.

You want to see this as something good. So raising your drink up, it’s another cheers to him. This time Joel moves to toast you with his beer.

“I’d call this the strangest wedding reception ever but hey, I’ll take it.” Joel nods. His mountainous shoulders drop seemingly relaxed more.

You laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re sitting across a new friend now… who just happens to be your husband.

-

You and Joel start texting. It’s still a bit awkward, and he’s a dry texter which doesn’t help. You get tempted to send him Santa memes, but you’re not sure you can joke with him more.

You check your loans. They’re still there looming like a thick unmovable sludge. So he hasn’t paid it off yet.

Reality and acceptance settles in. This man, the embodiment of Christmas joy, is just that busy even though he said he wasn’t.

At least you helped, or maybe unknowingly sold your soul away and just don’t know it yet. Whatever it is, you slip back into your regular routine and head back to your mom’s.

Pulling up an unknown older red truck sits in front of the house, and you wonder who’s its owner.

Walking inside your mom announces she’s in the kitchen. Tools scattered along the table are a reliving sight. So it’s just the plumber she finally called.

“You didn’t tell me the guy you were seeing is a handy man.” Your mom whispers excitedly.

As if on cue Joel struts out from the bathroom looking something straight from a hallmark movie. The green plaid shirt he wears compliments him beautifully, and it’s hard not to stare at him and his delicious broad ass shoulders.

“Hey.” He greets with a half smirk.

“Was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see if ya wanted to get dinner tonight. Then I remembered you telling me about your mom’s sink.”

You mentioned that during your first lunch with him. How did he remember?

Something soft, swirling with longing, fills your chest, and you try swallowing it back. As thanks, your mom happily suggests Joel joining for dinner here, and panic strikes you fast.

Joel grins bigger seeing you scramble to dissuade him. Of course he agrees.

You never would have guessed Joel ‘prickly as a Christmas cactus’ Miller is a charmer. He even pays for takeout much to your mother’s surprise.

“Didn’t know he was so much…older.” She hesitantly comments when he leaves.

“It’s been nice dating someone more mature.” You half lie. You aren’t ready to tell her the guy is your husband.

Later you text him thanks for fixing the sink and for dinner.

What are husbands for? He replies back.

And you really wish you knew.

-

You’ve wanted to go see the trail of lights, but with your mom working late for the holidays and your friends out of town, you consider making the trip alone.

Until your phone rings.

Joel has now started calling you, simply to chat, ask about how your day is, even just to check up on you. It makes your heart jump.

“Whatcha up to?” His voice rumbles deep and wonderful over the phone.

“Wanted to go to the trail of lights but might skip. No one wants to go.” You sigh.

“I’ll go.” He quickly replies, and your head spins.

If you thought Joel in plaid was a deadly force, him in a thick winter brown coat that highlights his strong frame is an utter sight.

The array of candy colored lights coat the world in a beautiful celestial dream. You’re thankful it’s not busy tonight.

“I’ve always loved Christmas lights.” You admit. It’s one of your favorite parts of being back home.

Surprisingly, he curiously asks about you more, what brought you back home. You of course tell him the truth. Out of state college got too expensive in undergrad, and now going to grad school expenses started piling up.

“So I’m back home.” You simply shrug.

“Ain’t no shame in it.”

You beam at his earnest words.

“Y’know, I haven’t been here in so long.” Joel admits. “Used to come here with the girls all the time when they were little.”

Wanting to embrace this tiny step he’s taking, you ask what they’re like. A soft look, one molten and fatherly, blooms over his face. It suits him, like he was born to be a dad in any lifetime.

Sarah is his eldest, a sweetheart going to school to be a journalist. He had her when was young, way too young, and her mother wasn’t big on wanting to raise a kid at that age.

“So it was just the two of you?” You softly ask.

“Yup, until our Ellie came along.” He nods while another soft grin tugs at his lips.

He tells you Ellie is adopted.

“S’actually a wild story.” Joel begins. “Found her during a run.”

A run, you learn quickly, is when he’s out on Christmas Eve.

“Newborn baby crying on the edge of the fire station. It was freezing as shit that night. Couldn’t just leave her there.” He mutters lost in the memory.

You and him have slowed your walk, now almost glued to each other side by side.

“Was a goddamn miracle.” He adds nodding.

“That’s beautiful, Joel.” You admire, meaning your words.

He goes on telling you Ellie’s already working in her last year of high school, ready to move out, be on her own, ready to start college.

“So I bet when they were kids they were thrilled to know their dad was… who you are.” You state with a warm grin.

Joel barks hollow.

“Couldn’t even threaten them with the naughty list deal. To them I’ll always be dad.” His voice twinkles, it’s like peeling away at the rough exterior to realize Joel is just an extra toasty marshmallow.

He’s still so warm and soft on the inside.

“Can I ask… how did it happen?” You’re worried he’s going to shut you out like he did last time.

But a heavy exhale leaves him. And he tells you…

About a night driving home during the bad snow storm that came many years ago. He stopped to help this man on the side of the road, who he assumed was a mall Santa that had gotten into an accident.

“Instead it was the real fucking deal.”

After that, the previous holder of the title passed away, leaving Joel to take up the mantle.

“Had to say yes,” he says with a shrug. “Even at five years old Sarah was bossin’ me around, telling me I had to…. Haven’t regretted it since.”

Iridescent adoration swallows your body whole begging you to embrace Joel Miller wholly.

“It’s wonderful. It’s brought you so many amazing things,” You can’t even hide your admiration anymore, don’t want to. You don’t want to fight this. You’d be his real fake wife for long as he would let you.

Joel’s face turns to you. His eyes glance straight into your very being, the lights dance among his endless earthen eyes. You want to get lost in the twinkle, already hating how badly you feel drawn to this man.

You try taking in every ounce of Joel here under the cloak of lights. He’s a dream, this fake husband of yours, one that feels like you’re simply allowed to admire but never touch.

Being this close to him, your eyes unfortunately drift to his lips. How bad would it be to kiss this man?

There’s plenty of songs about kissing Santa Claus. Would you simply not be embracing the holiday spirit?

A distant car horn honks and causes you to jump, breaking the hypnotic spell Joel has cast on you. Walking out, sadly heading home, you finally notice something.

It could be the shade of the lights, but the greys in Joel’s beard are starting to appear white.

-

The week before Christmas is a chaotic cluster. So much cleaning and shopping, you want to scream. Joel calls you while you’re braving the mall.

“You sound exhausted, honey.” He says, and the pet name isn’t lost on you.

But it is lost on your rant though. You’re exhausted from trying to find these specific dang muffins your grandmother only refuses to eat while also trying to find a gift for your cousins.

“Gift cards are a lifesaver for a reason.” He comments casually.

“You grant Christmas wishes for a living, and that’s your answer.” You snort.

“I’ve delivered my share of ‘em, so hell yeah they are.”

Even in the mess of the mall’s chaos you laugh. In such a short amount of time, Joel’s presence in your life has solidified steady, unwavering, like he’s always been here. Long chats on drives home, him dropping by with groceries to deliver, it all unfolds so natural. You’re even heading over tonight to have dinner with him and his brother Tommy.

Once you’re back in the car, you notice a new bag sitting in the backseat.

Reacting in you discover not only the damn elusive dinner rolls you’ve been searching for, but a pack of gift cards.

A sticky note sits on top of them.

Don’t hate the gift card

-J

You blame the Yuletide spirit in the air, but your heart soars. It’s like you’ve been swept into a Christmas special. But, you’re waiting for the bad ending to come.

These feelings for Joel have only multiplied, taking root deeper in your heart. The sugared admiration for him now grows fangs becoming a dazed lust. You’ve had dreams of him sweaty and golden above you in bed. You ache to know what he sounds like, to know the feeling of him inside you, to get drunk on his taste.

Heading over to Joel’s you kick away those dangerous thoughts you have for your husband.

A sweet woman answers the door, who introduces herself as Maria, Tommy’s wife.

“Nice to finally meet Joel’s not so secret, secret wife.” She grins. Guess that meant she knew the secret too.

She knows more than you even do as she guides you out back. The shed sitting in the corner of the backyard is unassuming. Yet when you step inside, a full workshop, the size of a Costco, stands glimmering before you.

“It never gets old.” Maria whispers, sensing your stunned awe.

Joel finally steps into view, and you’re taken back. The white among his beard sits stronger. He’s in more comfortable clothes and the gray sweatpants are sinful on him. The sight of his strong arms, his tummy through his tight white shirt, all make you think of biting into his skin -

You yank yourself out of the feral thoughts. Especially when Joel spots you. He blinks, just as stunned as you are.

“Hey, sorry. Got shit tied up here. Y’don’t gotta stay, might not be done until... fuck I don’t even know when.” He sighs, running a hand across his face.

“Can I help?” You blurt out.

Joel blinks at you, almost like he didn’t hear what you said and even squints a bit making him as old as he is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask again.

Joel swallows. “You don’t, fuck...Ya don’t have to.”

You want to and determinedly tell him that.

His eyes widened like you just grew two heads. He recovers swiftly, nodding as he calls Tommy over. The younger Miller brother sees you and winks.

“Come on newbie, let’s getcha set up.”

You, Maria and Tommy are in charge of bulk orders making sure each package has the right amount and ready to be delivered.

“Does he… really have a list?” You ask with a whisper.

“Checks it twice too.” Tommy cheekily replies, and you laugh bubbling with disbelief, but apologize quickly.

“S’all good, trust me it took me a while to realize it’s real. But it’s something damn special once you do.”

You fully agree.

The night is long, but you don’t notice it. You get into a grove and get excited when Maria shows you some of the orders, children getting bikes, someone getting a new pair of shoes. It fills you with something luminous you can’t fully describe.

It’s a reward in itself when you finish a large order and high five Maria and Tommy.

“Well now, we finally get to meet the new Mrs. Joel Miller.” A new voice, smooth but curious, breaks the moment.

Behind you stand a small cluster of older men. You don’t know how, but you just know they’re all previous holders of the title of Father Christmas. It’s only confirmed when Tommy whispers it sharp to you. So these retired men were the ones pestering Joel.

“They usually drop by to do audits, checks and things, didn’t know they would be here this late.” Maria adds low.

“We’ve been wanting to stop by and give our congratulations, but Joel has been so keen on keeping you all to himself.” One of the older gentlemen winks.

You politely smile.

“You’re rather young.” Another man comments.

“Way too pretty for a grouch like Miller.” One, with a thick accent, teases with a grin.

Joel suddenly, as if summoned, comes rushing out from the side and immediately slides in front of you, a protective barrier.

“You’re running a bit behind schedule.” The snarkiest of the men comments to Joel. “Guess the new wife really has been keeping you away.”

Your face scrunches up pissed now, until Joel’s hand moves to hold yours, squeezing it tight.

“He even has you helping, dear?” One of the quieter men asks you, concerned.

“I’m happy to help.” You truthfully answer steady and firm.

You want to be a part of this as much as Joel allows. Not just because you’re his paper wife, but because you care for him.

All of the previous Santas now seem to survey you, practically staring straight into your soul.

“If you gentlemen are done harassing my wife I suggest y’all fuckin’ head home.” Joel barks sharp.

One of them scoffs at this reply.

The main leader of the group glances at you then back to Joel.

“You picked a good one, Joel.” He smiles with a chuckle.

“You take care of this grouch now, pretty lady.” The sweetest of the men beams at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“Get out.” Joel snaps cold, holding your hand tighter than ever.

In a blink, they’re before you, and the next, they’re gone, vanished into the wind.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, and you have to lean against Joel who sighs with the same relief.

In the rush, you swear you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. Tommy and Maria greet you proud. You return back to your station, back to helping.

Until you realize it’s past 1 in the morning, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Hey, crash here for the night.” Joel appears besides you, steadying your arm.

“I’ll be fine, I can drive home.” You reassure him through an unconvincing yawn.

“No. You don’t need to. S’cold as hell out there, just stay here.” He urges, and you don’t want to fight him.

So you’re given the guest room and a spare change of clothes, which include an oversized UT Longhorns shirt and sweats, both obviously Joel’s.

Sliding his shirt on, your heart races. The exhaustion, you blame it on the exhaustion, when you pull his shirt up to inhale deeply. The smell is soft, comforting, a mixture of his cologne and something purely musk, purely Joel.

You wonder how bad it would be to touch yourself in his guest room. Glancing out the door to see if you’re alone, that’s when you catch a glimpse of Joel down the hall.

Busy looking at his phone, he’s shirtless and a decadent sight. You fully take in his solid build, the look of a man. His sweatpants have slung lower, revealing the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock. The pudge of his belly is beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and you want him more than anything.

The next morning he’s gone, already hard at work. You enjoy breakfast with Maria and Tommy who you already adore even more.

“Don’t be a stranger now, it’s nice to have a new face around. Plus Joel can’t stop talking about you.” Maria’s words almost make you spit out your tea.

Tommy snickers at your reaction.

Driving back to your mom’s, you already miss the chaos of the Miller household. Arriving home, your heart sinks seeing your relatives have arrived early.

“Oh, back from staying over at a guy’s house? Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend that stays around long enough.” Even though your Aunt is trying to be teasing, you already wish she could leave.

“I think he’s a keeper. He’s older too.” You mom explains with a slow whisper, and you send her a look.

Everyone unfortunately perks up at that.

“Really? Well, you know what they say, you should always question why a man doesn’t date a woman his age.” Your Aunt, with such a judgmental tone, tries to sound sincere but it slices you deep.

“It’s not like that.” You reply feeling a new sense of dread crawl in you.

“Is it a sugar daddy situation?” Your cousin jokes, and it gets too much.

You laugh bitter, fake, then head back to your room. You wish more than ever to crawl back to Joel’s.

Back in your room, something new sits waiting for you on your nightstand.

A flower, your favorite, in full bloom has a note tied to it.

Thanks for all the help

This time Joel signs his name with a little scribbled heart.

You cherish it more than gold.

-

“I…won’t be available these new few days.” Joel reveals, almost sounds guilty.

It’s the first time you’ve finally gotten the chance to talk with him free from curious family members trying to eavesdrop.

Here in the dead of night, your heart aches for him.

“I know, kinda figured.” You grin.

He chuckles.

Suddenly a selfish thought tugs at you.

The image has been plaguing you more and more. Does dress up in full Santa gear? He has to, right?

“So do you…fully wear the whole thing? The red suit? White hat?” You ask, waiting for the answer.

“…if I say yes, are ya gonna divorce me?” Joel replies gruff.

You laugh but rush to quiet down trying not to wake anyone. But you reassure him there's no need for divorce.

“Just… kinda wish I could see it.” You admit, feeling greedy wanting to witness the sight.

Joel stays quiet.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters.

“Yeah…” maybe one day.

“Stay safe out there.” You tell him when you hear him yawning more. “And get all the rest you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He drawls, and you melt.

You don’t hear from him after that.

You deal with more annoying family members. Enjoy some delicious cozy food. All while missing Joel.

Waking up Christmas Eve morning, you see an email.

All your loans are paid in full. It wasn’t just your loans, but your mother’s. Completely debt free - both of you. She cries. You even get teary eyed.

One of your uncles makes a dumb joke about it maybe being a mistake.

“It’s a blessing,” your mom says, grateful.

“No, it’s a gift from Santa.” You beam, knowing no one would believe you.

However, a new fear starts morphing in you.

What did this mean for you and Joel? Is the contract completed? Is this over? Was it only to say he had a wife on paper, parade you as proof, then… never speak to him again?

The questions pester and haunt you the entire rest of the day.

Then night creeps in.

“You wanna leave cookies out for Santa?” Your mom jokes seeing you grab a plate.

“Maybe, but I think I might leave out a beer too.” You reply and she laughs.

Once everyone heads to bed and leaves back to their hotels, you sneak into the living room.

Never in your life would you have imagined ever needing to wait up to see Santa. Much less as a full adult.

And it proves to be a true test of endurance. You doze off a few times but quickly snap your eyes open, worried you’ll miss him.

Checking the time, it’s almost midnight. Of all the nights you want to stay up, fighting asleep is harder than ever.

You don’t even realize your eyes have closed until the softest graze of fingers against your cheek wakes you.

Panicked, scrambling awake, you snap your eyes open and whisper Joel’s name.

Finally blinking into focus, there’s no sign of anyone here.

“Y’left out a beer for me?”

Until the softest smoothest thick accent floats out into the quiet of your living room. You left the tv on, and the light of it blends with the glow from the Christmas tree. It bathes Joel in something sublime.

No classic Santa hat sits on his head, but the way his hair is scruffy and flat, he must have been wearing it before.

But the sight of him in the crimson suit, the soft white fur lined edges of the coat, how bulky and strong he looks… You’re reminded of a rugged cowboy Santa.

It all ignites a wildfire, and now you’re wide awake scrambling out of the blankets to get to him.

Not thinking, almost possessed by some ghost of Christmas present, you rush forward and embrace him. His body, sturdy and solid, radiates a warmth that encompasses you.

“What are ya doing up?” He whispers low while you clutch onto him. You need to touch him with your own hands, feel he’s real. You also don’t miss the gloved hands against your hips.

“Had to see you.” You croak out.

You pull back to look at him.

Finally, you take him in. It’s Joel, the same grumpy Joel that’s changed the oil for your car, who has a soft spot for the stray cats in his neighborhood, and is an amazing father - but it all collides with the truth of who he really is.

A watery laugh comes out of you and you hate that immediately you’re blinking away tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joel immediately asks worried, letting his hands move to rest on your arms, a comforting presence.

You reassure him it’s nothing, trying to wave this reaction off.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong or else Christmas stops and it’ll all be your fault.” His tone is somber, but you sense the tease, a classic Joel joke among his words.

Shaking your head, you wipe away more tears frustrated at your reaction. Then his hand, gloved but striking in size, cradles your face, and he gently strokes your cheek. Joel turns your face to him.

“Talk to me, honey please.”

You don’t know how to express everything that’s in your heart. It all feels too much - the conflict of realizing where you stand with him, the doubt that brews wondering if he even holds the same affection for you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit weakly.

It’s that you can muster out, all that you can do to sum up the bundle of emotions storming in your heart.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow. His mouth drops a bit. In the low light, the shadows on his face deepen like caverns aging him beautifully.

“M’not going anywhere. You won’t lose me.” He reassures, even squeezing your face soft.

Those endless eyes that normally stare so direct and with such a magnetic force, now flicker away almost boyish and shy.

“I’m the one afraid of losin’ you.” He mutters, like he’s admitting it more to himself.

His words unwrap your heart releasing so many emotions.

“Joel.” You whisper, a bit hesitant, and his gaze draws back to you.

He seems closer now, his coal-like eyes brewing something untouchable. Silence, a soft shift settles, you taking him in, and him doing the same for you.

You don’t know who moves first. But in a blink his lips descend onto yours.

His mustache tickles. His lips hold a hint of something sweet sugary, indulgent, or you wonder if that’s just Joel.

Strong gloved hands clutch onto you holding your tighter against his frame. He tilts your head, allowing him to kiss you deeper, and your mouth willingly opens begging for more of him.

It isn’t lost on you that you’re kissing Santa Claus, like a cheesy holiday song. But it’s the fact that you’re kissing Joel Miller that melts everything away.

Your fingers find his hair, running through his soft gray locks you’ve dreamed about. Joel groans, and you already want more.

With ease, he lifts you up with one arm and you squeak into his mouth. His chuckle vibrates against your lips, ticklish, until he starts to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the path of your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes and drawing him closer when he places you back on the couch. Your legs curl against his waist, locking him in as you try molding into him, with him, as much as you can.

His lips find yours again, this time there’s a fevered edge to them. His tongue is messy, licking into your mouth desperate. You moan when he sucks on your tongue.

A blazing hunger takes over making your hips grind against him. Feeling his gloved hands slide up your legs, you whine digging into him harder.

Until he suddenly rips himself away, leaving you feeling empty missing his warmth and body against you.

“Shit…Really gotta go, honey. I can’t say.” Joel sighs. His heavy breathing, the tightness of his jaw, this is as hard for him as it is for you.

“Can’t you be a little late?” You softly question rising back up to kiss up his scruffy beard.

He groans when you softly kitten lick at his upper lip.

“Fuckin’ naughty little thing.” Joel growls.

You softly kiss his lips again.

“Guess that means I’m on the naughty list huh?” The joke slips out, and you already want to hide after hearing yourself.

Joel groans, but this time it’s ripe with embarrassment. You hide your face while he snickers.

“That was bad.”

“I know,” you agree mortified.

Even in your embarrassment, Joel presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and every worry melts away.

He stands up, pulling you gently up with him. Gathering you into his arms, this time Joel feels larger than life but also closer than ever, like he’s stitched inside your heart now.

“When will I see you again?” You hate how badly you miss him already.

“Soon, I promise.” He reassures rubbing your back softly, and you nod back.

His hand moves to hold your face again, gently, like you’re a precious treasure.

And you think he might be yours.

Joel kisses you, the softest sweetest press of his lips that melts into your bones. And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

All that’s left are the faintest hints of snow flurries on your living room floor…

And of course he made sure to take his beer.

-

When Joel said he’d see you soon, you didn’t think it would be the next morning, Christmas morning.

Softly a hand brushes against your face, slowly waking you. You find yourself back in your bedroom. The soft glow of the winter morning spreads a gentle light that covers your room.

Joel is here, kneeling beside your bed, and immediately you turn towards him.

In this light, his greys look softer, thicker in their shade, like beautiful white streams run from his temples. And his beard looks as if snow flurries have been peppered in more. The red velvet of his suit looks brighter. Your fingers run across the fabric, across his shoulders.

You whisper his name, yet a sadness creeps in again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Are you okay… with us?” It’s a stumbled way to ask, but it’s all you can get out.

Is he okay that you’re much younger than him?

“Yeah, of course.” He nods.

“Actually, Ellie and Sarah were the ones who told me to go for it.” He admits fondly, sleepily.

“They said I needed to be selfish for once, let myself have this…”

His eyes watch you as you sit up to reach him.

“Is that why you were so cold when we first met?” You ask.

Joel nods, sighing.

“Felt awful knowing I was doing this to you, someone so dang young, so fuckin’ beautiful. Hated that you were stuck with a mess of ‘n old man like me.”

“I’d pick you everytime.” The words escape fast. You can’t even stop them.

Instantly he swoops in kissing you with an unchained passion that makes you dizzy.

Immediately you tug at him, begging him to crawl onto the bed. You sigh in bliss when he does, making your mattress creak ever slightly with his glorious solid frame.

His kisses are drenched in a poison intoxicating you.

Clutching onto Joel’s shoulders, you lift your hips when his gloved hands tug at your pj pants.

That’s when you hear the faint laughter of everyone downstairs awake. You freeze. Joel senses your hesitation. That gorgeous nose of his nuzzles against your jaw breathing in the scent of you.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” His thick low voice is all you need because you’re nodding yanking at his shoulders to kiss him again.

This kiss dances along the edge of something fierce and wild, like you’re trying to contain it, hold it back before it spreads and someone hears.

Until Joel’s gloved fingers slip inside your wet heat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to hold back a moan. Feeling his black leather glove inside you has your eyes roll back. Then when you rest your head against the soft fur lining of his coat, it creates such a dizzying sensation you want to get lost in.

“Oh fuck.” He drawls, hoarse.

His fingers pump in and out of you, and the squelch of your wetness sounds downright obscene now. Joel revels in it.

“Letting this ol’ man winter fuck ya while everyone’s down stairs waiting…Y’like that baby?”

You whimper, nodding, clutching onto him harder trying so hard to keep quiet. Then he removes them from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

Until he draws his gloved fingers, shining and coat in your arousal, up to your lips.

“Can ya clean ‘em off for me?” He mutters.

Without hesitation you pull them into your mouth and suck, letting your tongue wiggle across the leather. You moan tasting this union of you and the leather.

“Shit,” Joel croaks like he got punched in the gut.

Quickly he yanks his hand out from your mouth, rips his gloves off and kisses you feverish.

“Need to feel ya.” He sounds drunk as you feel, even more when his bare fingers thick and warm slip into you again.

He makes you come so fast it knocks you breathless, feeling hot even with the cooler temperature in the room. You whisper begging him to fuck you, to take you here before he heads home -

“Can’t darlin’, but soon I will. I promise.” He reassures you kissing your lips over and over.

“And Santa always keeps his promises, yeah?”

That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. You greedily kiss him, trying to devour him even more.

“Jesus,” he growls, his accent thicker than ever. “Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to leave.”

“Then don’t.” You beg.

But then the voices downstairs get louder, and the smell of food warming up floats in.

Joel sighs deflated. You know this is the end for now.

Rubbing his wonderful nose against yours, you lean to press your forehead to his. He breathes out your name, and it sounds like a blessing.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He whispers softly to you.

A knock comes at your door, and in a panic you drag your blanket up around you.

“You awake yet?” Your mom jokingly asks.

You definitely are now. Of course Joel has vanished.

But something tickles the top of your head. Bundles of mistletoe, twisted among so many lovely ribbons, bloom all along your bed frame.

-

One Christmas Later

“Did I ever show you the shirt Ellie and Sarah sent me last week?” You ask, and Joel, half paying attention, hums.

He pulls his attention away from the Dallas Cowboys game long enough to glance at your phone.

The shirt reads - Mrs Claus but Married to the Grinch

He rolls his eyes, not finding it as amusing as his daughters did.

“Or what about this one.” You show him the next option.

This one, in bright gold lettering, says - Santa’s Sexy Girlfriend

“No.” He flat out pushes the phone away making you laugh and lean against his strong shoulder.

This would be the last night before he heads out on his run. This will also be the first night you get to see him leave, and the first night you’ll get to wait for him now living at his home.

The memories and days that have brought you here are strung up in your heart, luminous multi colored tinsel you never want to take down.

“It’s actually one of the first years we’re ahead of schedule,” Tommy says when you greet him back at the workshop.

“That wife of yours is really something.” Though Tommy talks directly to his brother he makes sure to wink at you.

You’re grateful you got to help out more this year, even enjoyed having Ellie and Sarah around when they came by to visit. But with Ellie now enjoying time with the girl she desperately has a crush on, and Sarah taking the day to spend time with her new boyfriend, it really would just be you and Joel.

A delicious heat crawls in you knowing what you had waiting for him.

But you almost forget about it when you start helping Joel get dressed.

Your throat dries seeing him buckle up his crimson pants, then helping him slide his thick coat on and how broad it accentuates his shoulders…

“You keep lookin’ at me like we’re gonna get behind schedule.” Joel mutters sinful.

“We’re ahead of schedule. We could…mess around for a bit.” You offer light.

“No, being ahead means I can come home earlier.” He very playfully and lightly smacks your ass.

You hate when he’s right.

With a kiss goodbye you send him off returning to the quiet home. You’ll have a day and a half before Joel officially returns. So you spend your time binging multiple movies.

You’re also thankful for the stash of extra cookies you finally found. Joel ‘I ain’t got a sweet tooth’ Miller isn’t so slick with his hiding spots.

The film your best friend recommended is cheesy. But during the scene where the main love interest comes to interrupt the engagement party to announce he loves the bride, cause you to pause.

In theory, you are Joel’s wife. Your mom even jokes that she practically has the most perfect unofficial son in law, if only if she knew the truth. Yet, you don’t have a ring, don’t even use Miller as your last name.

It’s silly, you tell yourself and try not to think about it too much.

So you instead enjoy more cozy snacks and the rare bits of snow Austin is getting this time of year. It’s magical, paints the world like something straight from a Thomas Kinkade dream.

The morning comes when Joel will be home, and you sit waiting on the bed. Don’t even mind you work up early for this.

Earlier confidence surged in you when you slipped into the gorgeous lingerie set. Now it itches on your skin as you sit worried. The bow sitting on your bra might be too much. You almost bought the cute risqué Santa nightgown, but you hesitated.

You didn’t feel like you could truly even joke about being Mrs Claus when you didn't even fully consider yourself Mrs Miller.

“Honey?” Joel announces stepping into the house, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“In here!” You yell back.

Waiting on the bed feels like an eternity passes before Joel opens the door. There’s still snow on his shoulders. His hair is starting to grow out more so it curls around his ears. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

Then his face falls and his eyes become full moons taking in the sight of you before him.

“Oh baby,” he whispers like he can’t believe his eyes.

You grin sleepy.

With eased measured steps Joel walks forward, and you’re reminded of a hunter trying to approach his prey.

He drags his fingers, ungloved, warm and callous from all the hard work he does, up your exposed skin leaving a trial of heat in their wake.

“Can I unwrap my present?” He mutters, allowing his fingers to drift with. Delicate touch across the top of your breast barely kept in by the lace covered bra.

“Yeah, Joel please.” You sigh, closing your eyes when his large hand suddenly grasps, squeezing your breast.

The poor lingerie doesn’t make it out alive.

Now you drift in and out of sleep, naked in his arms. Joel kisses your forehead promising he’ll buy you as many new sets as you want.

“Merry Christmas to both of us.” You dryly joke.

He laughs, but it sounds a bit weak, more like a cough.

“Uh, speaking of Christmas gift… y’want yours now or later when we wake up?”

That makes you bolt up fast from his arms.

“I told you not to get me anything, Miller.” You protest, glaring at him.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me of all people not to get you something?” He scoffs.

“Then I don’t want it.” You stubbornly pout back.

“Alrighty then, I’ll return it tomorrow.” Sleepily he shrugs and turns on his side giving you full sight of his glorious sun kissed bare back. You try not to linger on the scratch marks you left behind.

Now you persistently tell him to give it to you.

“Sounds like what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He teases with a smirk glancing over to you from his shoulder.

Now you roll your eyes.

“Give me the gift Miller, or else.” You shake his shoulder trying to sound somber like Joel himself, but a smile tugs at your lips.

Dramatically, he groans sitting up.

“Making an old man like me get up after the long ass night I had.” He says reaching over to his nightstand.

“Oh please, if I asked you to go another round you would.” You scoff.

“You wanna?” He asks with a curious mutter, and you shove his shoulder again playful.

“Fine, fine.” Joel grumbles.

After reaching under the bed, he returns back with a box…covered in dinosaur wrapping paper.

“Look, it was the only one I had left over here.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Joel, you work at a magical workshop where there's an endless supply of cute Christmas wrapping paper. Why didn’t you grab some?!” You laugh.

“Didn’t wanna mess up the inventory.” He huffs, grumpy and classically Joel.

“You gonna open it or am I gonna have to hide it again?”

At his words you greedily rip off the paper.

You guess by the size it looked like a shoe box and it is, a familiar box you thought you threw away. Now you’re confused.

Opening it, inside is an even smaller box. This one is classically wrapped in green and red with a shining bow on top.

But when you pick it up, you discover the tiny box is heavy. There’s also a latch at the back begging for you to lift and open.

Inside sits a ring, dancing with a shimmering sparkle.

You already fight back the tears.

Is this what you think it is?

Whipping your face to Joel he seems hesitant, worried, while he keeps his focus on you.

“I know we might’ve done this backwards but…” he reaches for the ring, gingerly pulling it out.

“Wanna make it official now.”

You inhale sharp.

“Honey I’ll get down on one knee if you want, but might take me a while to get back up…” he jokes, but the edge of his voice is watery, shaky, like he’s the one barely holding on.

“But…will you marry me again-”

You don’t even let him finish before you rush to kiss him. The tears come, fast and free like a wave, but they’re beautiful. You embrace it all.

Joel slides the ring in your finger. The weight of the beautiful metal feels wonderful against your skin, but you don’t notice it. Not when you’re swept up in making love to your Joel, your fiancé.

The love bursting through your heart could swallow you whole and you would let it.

“I love you,” he admits against your skin, breathing out like he’s finally found a moment of rest.

“I love you too.” You rub his back soaking in the bliss among the sweat and heat of his body against yours.

It’s just you and your Mr Claus.

“I’m glad Santa granted my wish.” You mutter dreamy, not caring how embarrassing you sound.

That is until Joel lifts his head up, those wonderful eyes of his shine brighter than any northern star.

“Mine too, honey.” He mutters, kissing you tenderly, a sweet promise of more beautiful Christmas days to come.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

This is my first time in general givong a request, but hear me out...

...Logan Howlett/Miguel O'hara x reader, but the reader is tipsy and they go "im dumb" as a small joke. Later on, Logam/Miguel is just pounding into y/n and cooing like "aaaw, little princess to dumb to think. Hm?" Or "such an empty-headed slut" or stuff like that - like a mix of praise and degradation

Kinktober day three

I love this idea so bad I’m such a whore for mean!logan. sir please RAIL ME

Mean!Logan x fem!reader

A couple of nights ago, the team had completed a successful mission. Obviously, you all had to celebrate.

You'd been drinking, more than you intended to, but you couldn't stop feeling so fucking stupid for liking Logan. He was older, probably barely cared about the fact that you existed. And if he did care, there was no way in hell he liked you. Probably thought you were a weird kid, even.

Sure, you two hooked up occasionally. It meant nothing. He probably just saw you as a way to let go of all the tension, while here you were, practically worshipping the ground at his feet.

That's why you're actually surprised when, late into the night, when you're well past your fifth or sixth drink, Logan walks up to talk to you.

“You did pretty good out there, bub,” he tells you. “Real good. Looks like those training sessions helped you out big time.”

You nod. “Oh, definitely,” you reply, words slurred.

He raises an eyebrow. “How many o’those have you had already, hm?” he questions, nodding at the drink in your hand.

“Um…five? Six? Can’t remember,” you shrug, taking another gulp of the alcohol. “Probably ‘cause I’m stupid.”

Logan blinks, confused and shocked. “Stupid? Why would you say that?”

You smile. “‘s just a joke,” you tell him, but he can hear the lie.

He frowns slightly. “It ain't funny, bub. You ain't stupid. You know that.”

You nod dismissively. “Yeah. I know.” You shrug.

For some reason, a few days later, as Logan is busy fucking you dumb, he remembers what you’d said.

I’m stupid. Those were your words.

He spanks your ass when your eyes roll back and you mumble something incoherent. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm? Stupid for me already?”

He smirks at the way your eyes widen, cheeks blushing with delight when your cunt clenches around his cock.

“Yeah? Is that it? Are you just daddy’s stupid little slut?”

You moan, your back arching, and you look almost horrifed at how much you’re anhoying the degradation.

He spanks you again. “I asked you a question. Use your words f’r me, bub.”

You whimper incoherently again and he laughs. “Aw, is daddy’s princess too dumb to think already? Hm?” He smirks, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

You squeal. “D-daddy! Mhmm!”

“Yeah. I know, baby. You get so dumb when you’re on daddy’s cock. I love it so much.” He grunts, thrusting harder, deeper, watching your tits bounce every time.

He places a huge hand on top of your womb and presses down, forcing you to feel him even more. “Is my dumb baby gonna come f’r me? You gonna be good and come on my cock?”

You nod, desperately whining incoherently.

He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. You ain’t gotta do anything. That’s why you’re such a good fuck—You get all dumb and all you gotta do is let daddy use your pretty cunt.”

---

Blog masterlist

Kinktober masterlist

UUUGHHHH mean logan has my panties a mess

[reonaissance]

hi hi can i request blue lock (any characters you like) with a reader who dodge their kisses for funsies and act dumb when confronted.

thankyou!! stay safe and healthy!!

⟡ ──⠀ dodge for fun.

⟡ ⠀ blue lock.

⟡ ⠀ summary. :: he doesn’t seem to like it, when his partner doesn’t give him the attention he would like to have and deserves after a hard day. ⟡ ⠀ pairing(s). :: Mikage Reo, Itoshi Sae x gn!Reader ⟡ ⠀ warnings. :: sfw, fluff, comedy ⟡ ⠀ word count. :: —

⟡ ⠀ Mikage Reo

-> poor boy comes home completely exhausted, just wanting to cuddle and kiss you.

-> he enters the kitchen and sees you standing there drinking some water.

-> he approaches you from behind and places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down to kiss you.

-> only for you to step aside and look at him and greet him innocently.

-> he looks at you a little irritated before he tries again just for you to step back again with a smile.

-> a snort leaves his lips before he loops his arms around you to cage you and finally press a kiss on your lips.

-> after he realises, you don’t return the kiss, Reo pulls back and looks at you dissatisfied and a little disappointed.

-> then you even have the audacity to wipe it away. how could you do that?! so cruel! and then you dare to give him an innocent smile and act like nothing happened.

-> and even asking him about what he’s talking about!

-> he huffs again, then trying to hide his disappointment and asks if everything is alright.

-> then you couldn’t take it any longer and told him, that it was just a silly joke and finally gave him a proper kiss.

-> although he tried to hide the disappointment he felt earlier, it was easy to tell what he truly felt. especially after the period of time you two were in a relationship.

-> just don’t do it again if you don’t want to kill him. he couldn’t live his life normally without his regular dose of kisses.

⟡ ⠀ Itoshi Sae

-> interviews are hard for him. he disliked every bit of them. he even hated them.

-> he hated to be approached in general, even more with a camera showed in his face. he hated the personal questions, some of them entering his personal space way too much.

-> so every time he enters his apartment, he seeks for you to give him a big hug and a big smooch on the lips.

-> walked through to the whole apartment, searching after you, but you were nowhere to be found.

-> ‘maybe she’s on the toilet’, he thinks and sits down on the couch to wait for you to return. and it took you 20 minutes to leave the bath to come to him.

-> you greeted him as per usual and got a glass out of the cupboard. but something was missing…

-> he waits a little. maybe you just were really thirsty. you’ll come any minute to him, to give him his hug and kiss he deserved.

-> but nothing. you just sit down on the dining table with the glass and get your phone out.

-> he waits a little more. maybe you just forgot about his interview. maybe… no, you wouldn’t forget about it! you never forget about his appointment!

-> so he approaches you, stops behind you, placed a hand on your shoulder, and bends down to press a kiss on your cheek.

-> but you turn your head away and pretend to look out of the window.

-> he tries again, but fails.

-> then he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together to smash a kiss on your lips muttering “don’t ever pull something like that again. I don’t like your silly pranks.” afterwards.

──⠀ lovs monologue

thank you for the request dear anon! I hope I could’ve fulfil your expectations and you liked it. I have to say, I like the headcanon format a little more than the full fic thing. I’m done so much faster writing bullet points than writing full sentences.

and since I’m on summer break now I hope to find some more time writing and finish the other two requests I have in my drafts since april (besides doing nothing). august will be wild (hopefully).

© lovingluxury | @/cafekitsune’s dividers

[seungfl0wer]

Seungmin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩷

Did I indulge myself with this? Yes. Could have I written a novel? Yes I stopped myself before it got way too long lol.

-🩵

•Definitely shy when yall first start dating, cute little awkward thing he’d be.

•However after getting close he’s never shutting up now.

•Teasing him about how he went from barely talking or making eye contact.

•To this man who openly flirts with you in public.

•A true menace in disguise.

•Playful teasing all the time.

•But it’s a mutual thing.

•You stutter he’s making fun of you.

•He drops something you’re doing it right back.

•It’s honestly one of those things that makes him love you even more.

•Knowing you two can joke around like this, “you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole.”

•Ya’ll adopting a dog at some point too.

•I don’t make the rules.

•You gotta buy a puppy for your puppy right?

•He loves having you lying in his chest so he can sing to you.

•All cuddled up just listing to his beautiful voice.

•He gets so blushy when you compliment his voice too

•Oh god does he. He’ll try and hide his face but you can see it creep to his ears too.

•And if he’s lying on your lap?

•Play with his hair.

•Please. Just do it. This might be his favorite thing in the world.

•Just lying with you, as you play with his fluffy hair.

•This is his happy place, the place where all his stress disappears.

•He’s honestly just so soft for you.

•He’s so attentive and reads you really well.

•He can tell if you’re having a bad day even before telling him.

•He’ll grab your favorite things to make you feel better.

•He remembers a lot of things you’ve said.

•I feel like he’s that kinda guy that just remembers all the little details about what you like or have told him.

•He’ll stare with those big puppy dog eyes full of love.

•He’s honestly very enamored by you.

•How can someone be so perfect?

•Not to mention how can someone so perfect be his?

•Of course he’ll never admit this.

•Not saying he doesn’t do his share of mushy things.

•But he’s seungmin, he has to end the sweet convos with a dumb comment like “cause I’m the perfect boyfriend duh”

•Likes calm dates.

•Like going for coffee or to book stores.

•Will make forts in the living room to watch movies.

•I feel like he’s also one of those people who sends you flowers while you’re at work.

•Likes to write cute notes on them to get you all blushy at work.

•Probably has you in his phone as something like “My Dummy” or something like that.

•In such a loving way though.

•Also probably has the dumbest nicknames for you.

•His nicknames range from something cute like “puppy” to “my little dumpster fire”

•Hand holding always.

•Will pout when you let go “so what if our hands are sweaty”

•Loves PDA when it makes you all blushy.

•He’ll also do the whole “kiss you to shut you up”

•He really enjoys your kisses.

•Also will never admit how much it melts his heart seeing you in his hoodies.

•He’ll snap cute pictures of you in them.

•Has so many ugly photos of you in a locked folder so you can’t delete him.

•So he can “use them for black mail”

•He’s just a kind soul who’s a little rough around the edges but you are too.

•He’ll always make you feel loved and cared for. You’ll also always know what he says is his true feelings.

•He never sugar coats things and is always honest with you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•This little ass is such a tease.

•Will put his hand on your thigh slowly sliding it up.

•He’ll pull you to his lap, gripping your hips as he pushes himself against you.

•Would definitely send you dirty texts in public to see you get all red.

•Whatever mood he’s in you’re getting a different person in bed.

•Some days he’s more aggressive than others.

•Pushing you up against the wall leaving hickeys all over your neck.

•His hand wrapped around your throat as he teases your sensitiveness.

•When he’s fucking you like this he’s like a dog in heat.

•Multiple rounds until you’re both spent.

•He’d love when you’d scratch his back so deep or bite his shoulder.

•Just a way to show others how good he fucks you.

•He’d definitely be doing the biting back, pulling your hair and spanking you.

•On the other hand he has those lazy days were it’s the most loving sex of your life

•It’s so sensual laying in bed while he’s whispering how much he loves you as he’s thrusting slowly into you.

•Touching your sensitiveness lazily. Just savoring every moment.

•I feel like he’d be a small bit possessive of you.

•So he’d probably say stuff like “You’re all mine” “No one else can make you feel this way”

•He’s more of a talking when it’s rough but the moans and groans he lets out.

•Especially when he’s just lost in you they’re just- beautiful?

•A horn dog honestly.

•Constantly just wants you.

•He’s so damn needy when he’s on tour too.

•Whines about how he needs you cause his hand doesn’t help.

•Aftercare is normally more quiet as he just holds you close kissing you softly.

•Rubbing your body as you both catch your breath.

•A small “you ok?” He’d say and if it’s a yes he just pulls you closer to him.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[jesuistrestriste]

SAAGGEEEE your corrupting art blurb UUUGGGGHHHHH TOO FUCKING GOOD

thinking about the same scenario of him being overwhelmed & so deeply in subspace… but making him cum for the first time ever & he’s so whiny & doesn’t know what’s going on & feels so good when he cums he just doesn’t know what to do 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

DYLAN LISTENNN

i haven’t rlly written too much corruption kink stuff bc i’ve been focused on other things, but now im fully in the game.

i’m thinking about an inexperienced, virgin!art donaldson who’s never had a real orgasm before.

wet dreams? sure!

but’s he’s never been conscious to experience those releases; just woken up to warm, sticky boxers and a funny feeling swirling lingeringly around in his stomach.

maybe he’s never explored that sector of life before due to something like: barely repressed religious guilt, or the fear that it’ll be too intense for him to handle, or just plain business..! but the point is that he’s never experienced that hot, all-consuming, pulsing rush of pleasure that floods through your body when you come undone..

so when he finds himself submitting in your arms, the two of you tangled in your bed while he mindlessly seeks friction against your leg and kisses you, his eyes fly wide open when he feels a bolt of something good shoot through his cock in his briefs.

“oh,” he whines against your lips before he pulls back and swallows thickly, “oh, god..”

you look to his eyes and chuckle softly, catching your breath while your hand snakes down to grope his bulge— rewarding you with a sharp moan and a jerk of his hips.

“you’re so sensitive,” you whisper, your hand giving two tugs on his clothed cock before art is grasping for your arms, his legs starting to tense.

“s-something’s coming.”

he says it in a way that makes him sound utterly terrified but completely elated, simultaneously. he’s quaking against you, letting out little moans into your neck that are rapidly increasing in volume and frequency with each passing half-second.

fuck, he’s already teetering on that ledge— so overcome with the new sensations that he can’t squeeze his thighs together hard enough to stall his crossing of the finish line.

sweat is prickling on his skin almost uncomfortably, and he’s melting into your frame as he buries his face in your shoulder. his blonde curls brush your jaw and cheek. another tug on his erection sends him hurtling toward the end of it all before he can even properly grasp the build-up. poor thing.

“i… i feel really weird—.. i can’t—! i think im gonna..! gonna-!”

he yelps, before his vision completely whites out. his fingers curl into your biceps and his legs kick out and spasm as he lets out another broken cry. his voice comes out mangled through the heady waves of dopamine and the surge of emotions.

he’s never felt anything like it.

nothing’s even come fuckin’ close.

not a win on the court for a sparkling medal or trophy, not a bite of his mom’s special cooking, not even cry-laughing at patrick’s dumb jokes.

nothing.

this is everything.

god, how did he miss out on this for so long? what was life even like before this type of ecstasy?

he’s gushing into his underwear (heaps of held-in loads finally pouring out), rocking against your leg as you gently work him through it with a smile on your face, and he can’t quite seem to think of an answer to either of those questions of his..

it’s all too much in the best way.

“oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, im cumming,” he gasps, sounding laughably bewildered and unsteady, his touch growing almost painful on your limbs.

he doesn’t mean to grab you so hard, but the feelings are consuming him wholly and he needs to clutch onto something before he’s sure he’ll float away. he needs you to ground him—comfort him, help him, teach him.

he can’t believe what’s happening, and now he’s only got one thing left on his mind as the aftershocks make his head spin:

how’s he ever supposed to survive sex?