#also the pink hair is for no reason other than i thought it would be neat

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 B

-> Option B: "Let's have a baby!"

You can read Part 1 here.

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: The Reader has an abortion Option B: The Reader decides to have the baby(s).

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff + Smut. 18+. Light angst with a happy end. 7K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader decides to have the baby. There's a short moment of worry during the pregnancy, but nothing bad happens. Pregnancy sex, praise, slight lactation kink. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

The first night after finding out your college sweetheart accidentally knocked you up is a sleepless one for you. You're lying in Sukuna's arms, staring at the wall while your mind whirls, refusing to let you find any rest. You are grateful that Sukuna is here. At first, you had tried weakly to tell him that you wouldn't be mad if he needed some time to himself. But he just huffed and rolled his pretty eyes before pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before his hands went to his jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down while telling you in that low, stern voice,

"You think I am going to leave you alone after this? Absolutely not. Now get your pretty ass into bed, princess. I am staying."

And now he is lying behind you, snoring softly against your neck after he, too, struggled to fall asleep for over an hour. And you can't help but snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. His presence is reassuring, and his strong body and soft breath on your neck stop you from spiraling, even though you still can't find any rest.

You are busy making a pro and con list in your mind. Could you really make it work if you decide to have the baby? Could you handle going to college and being a mom? Wouldn't an abortion be the more sensible thing to do? On the other hand, would you be ok with the what-ifs haunting you after deciding against the baby? It's the most challenging decision you've ever had to make.

But if you are honest with yourself, your heart already knows what it wants.

The idea of having your own little family with Sukuna makes you smile. The mental image of Sukuna going to class with your little one in a baby carrier won't leave your mind. And you tear up a little when you imagine how sweet a life like that could be.

But you try to give your head a chance, too. It's not hard to find reasons why you shouldn't have a baby at this stage of life. Yet, any argument that speaks against a baby also leads to an excuse as to why it can still work. And after all, you know you won't be alone. Because there is Sukuna. Sukuna, who didn't run when he found out he knocked you up. Sukuna who told you he will support you no matter what you decide. Sukuna, who told you he will make sure you and the baby have it good if you choose to have it.

And now, one of his large hands is resting on your belly, long fingers sprawling possessively and lovingly over it, and it's a touch that fills you with longing. It's a touch that makes you see a future in which you and Sukuna are young parents and live together in domestic bliss.

It's that thought that finally makes you drift off to sleep, too.

"Kuna?"

You gnaw on your lip nervously as you turn around in your boyfriend's arms and look at him, about to tell him your decision. Sleepy maroon eyes meet yours, and a lazy smirk spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face.

"Hmm?"

You always love how soft he looks right after waking up, with his pink hair ruffled and his voice even lower than usual, his gaze unguarded and warm. You reach down to take one of his large hands in yours, holding it with both of your smaller hands as you say the words that will change your and Sukuna's life forever,

"I think I want to have the baby."

It's, at the same time, the most terrifying and most beautiful thing you ever said. You gulp nervously, watching Sukuna's face carefully. He blinks, and the smirk vanishes from his face. Instead, he looks at you with a serious expression in his beautiful maroon eyes. He nods, never breaking eye contact as he says,

"Then we'll be a family from now on."

You still stare at him with wide eyes, clutching his hand tightly, and Sukuna laughs softly, leaning closer to nuzzle his nose against your forehead,

"Hey, don't look so worried, princess. I meant everything I said yesterday. Every word. I won't run. We'll make this work. You and our baby will have it good. I will make sure of that. I love you. I won't leave."

Your heart flutters at the reassurance, and when Sukuna wraps an arm around you, you snuggle against him gratefully, sighing softly as you push your face against his warm, buff chest. You can hear his too-fast heartbeat, which gives away how nervous Sukuna is, too. About the pregnancy and the prospect of being a dad at such a young age. But Sukuna doesn't show it. You know he is being strong for you, so he can be your safe place. It makes you press a tender kiss to one of the tattoos on his naked chest while mumbling a soft, "I love you, too."

You believe Sukuna when he says the two of you can make it work. You have a feeling that with Sukuna by your side, you can do anything.

You get an official pregnancy test done at your doctor's office only two days later, followed by the first ultrasound examination, which you come out of with ringing ears after your doctor beamed at you and congratulated you on a twin pregnancy.

You walk over to Sukuna, who is waiting for you in the waiting room and wordlessly press the ultrasound picture against his chest. You wait a few seconds, barely able to keep silent while Sukuna examines the small picture with narrowed eyes until he finally is like,

"What am I supposed to see here? Wait a moment...why are there two?"

And you burst out laughing, looking at him, unable to stop grinning as the realization settles over Sukuna's face, and the corners of his mouth twitch until he bursts out laughing too,

"I should have known! Of course, I knocked you up with twins!"

There's a certain pride in his voice, and it makes you laugh even more. The first shock of finding out that you will have not only one but two babies to look after is lessened by the humor of it all.

Sukuna brings the picture closer to his face,

"Those little peas are supposed to be my children? Did you see how fucking small they are? Well, little ones, you have a lot of growing to do if you want to be as big and strong as your daddy!"

You chuckle and hug him, overcome with emotions at hearing Sukuna talk like that, already so naturally slipping into the role of the soon-to-be daddy.

"I will probably not be able to move at all with your two huge, heavy babies in my belly. Why do you have to be so big, Kuna?"

Sukuna flashes you a proud grin while wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer,

"Oh, don't act like you aren't crazily into it. And yeah, us Itadoris are big babies, so you better be prepared."

You open your mouth to whine, but Sukuna places a finger on your lips, smirking at you,

"Stop complaining, princess. You know that you have me. I'll make sure to feed you well when my brats make you hungry. And I'll get you everything you need. We both know that you won't have to lift a single finger."

You know he is right, and he already proves it to you when you get home again, and Sukuna gently pushes you onto the couch, telling you that you have to rest.

"I'm gonna make lunch now, and no, you aren't allowed to help! Be a good girl and just chill."

And so you sit there, with a hand lightly rubbing your belly, the ultrasound picture lying next to you, looking at the TV that is showing some game show. But you don't really register what is happening on the screen because you are too busy getting accustomed to the fact that you are really going to be a mom.

As the weeks pass, a small bump begins to show on your belly, and neither you nor Sukuna can stop touching it and staring at it in fascination. It still feels unreal that there are supposedly really two babies growing inside you. The little pea-sized spots you could see on the first ultrasound didn't look like little humans at all. But the small bulge tells you that there is truly something happening inside your belly.

You have several doctor's appointments, and Sukuna drives you to all of them. He always comes up with you to the waiting room and sits there, holding your hand, a reassuring presence by your side. He always lets you know he is there for you. That he isn't running from the responsibility.

Your doctor informs you that you can bring your partner with you to the next ultrasound so he can see the babies, too, if he wants, and when you tell Sukuna about it, he agrees immediately.

"Of course, I'm coming with you! I need to see what my brats are doing."

It makes your chest feel warm. Sukuna isn't just enduring all of this. He doesn't just play the dad because he feels like he has to. He is truly interested in your little family, which is growing in your belly.

You can tell that Sukuna is nervous on the day of the ultrasound. You catch him patting the pocket of his leather jacket as if to grab his cigarettes, only to let his hand drop again when he remembers that he threw all of his cigarettes away on the day you told him you wanted to have the babies.

It's cute to see your tall, muscular boyfriend with his piercings and intimidating-looking tattoos, sitting in the waiting room, playing nervously with his tongue piercing and grabbing your hand so tightly that it's a bit painful.

He is playing it cool in front of the doctor, though, his usual arrogant smirk perfectly in place. Joking around and oozing confidence. Until the screen fills with the ultrasound images, and Sukuna suddenly becomes completely silent.

The "peas" have grown quite a bit and they actually resemble tiny human beings with small arms and legs. Even though you can't feel it yet, they move around wildly, doing somersaults as if to show their daddy that they are just as athletic as he is.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna, and your heart clenches when you see the thunderstruck expression on his tattooed face. He stares at the screen in awe while his lips tremble ever so slightly.

You reach out to touch his arm, gently caressing his tattooed biceps, and Sukuna looks at you with his maroon eyes glittering suspiciously. Your bad boy who always acts so tough, but here he is fighting tears upon seeing his babies in action for the first time on a flickering ultrasound screen.

It makes tears well up in your eyes, too, your chest filling with almost overwhelming love. And suddenly, everything feels even more real. This is really happening! You are having Sukuna's babies! Sukuna and you will be parents!

And as if he read your mind, Sukuna's low voice is in your ear suddenly, sounding solemn and shocked and in complete awe,

"Those are our little brats."

You can only nod wildly in response as tears glitter in your eyes.

The two (or four) of you leave the doctor's office in a daze. Sukuna's arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, and you feel him pull you closer to his tall body anytime you walk past someone, protecting you from any possible danger. Sukuna even drives much slower than usual. It makes you smile to yourself, filled with love and gratitude for the man by your side.

The man who didn't run, the man who took responsibility, the man who turns to look at you at a red light with his eyes full of love.

Sukuna parks in front of your apartment and sprints to your side of the car to open the door for you and offer you a strong arm. He doesn't leave your side all the way to your apartment, making sure you won't fall on the stairs or slip in the hallway. And you can't help but grin to yourself. It makes your body buzz with excitement, knowing this tall, strong man is so protective over you and the babies that are growing in your belly. His babies.

Somehow, it makes Sukuna even more attractive, even though you never thought he could get any hotter than he already is. It makes you lean against him and smile toothily up at him once you enter your apartment. You put your hands on Sukuna's defined pecs, feeling him up through his thin t-shirt as you get on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. Murmuring against his lips,

"You're already such a good daddy."

Sukuna laughs and pulls you closer, smirking his sexy smirk against your lips before he pushes his tongue into your mouth, kissing you thoroughly before he carefully picks you up princess style to carry you to the bedroom and continue what you started.

"Oh my god, what!? I am going to be an uncle?"

You are convinced the whole dorm hears Yuuji's excited scream as he pulls his brother into a bone-crushing hug, and Sukuna's low laughter fills the room.

You smile as you watch the brothers high-fiving each other and grinning like two madmen. Sukuna announced the big news to Yuuji in his usually blunt manner. He pulled you against his side and put one large hand over your belly while smirking at his brother and telling him,

"You'll soon have serious competition for the title of Biggest Itadori Brat. We're pregnant with twins. Two boys, just like you and me."

By now, Yuuji has let go of his brother and comes over to you, smiling from ear to ear and telling you how happy he is for you and Sukuna. There is no sign of disapproval or judgment, only genuine joy. And it makes relief wash over you. You hope that more people will react nicely once your baby bump is big enough so you won't be able to hide your pregnancy anymore.

You once heard someone say that no pregnancy goes by without a big scare.

And you get your scare when you get up one morning to use the toilet only to discover a bloodstain in your panties.

"K... Kuna..."

You say his name instinctively, needing him by your side as the fear makes your pulse race. And Sukuna is by your side in lightspeed, running into the bathroom only wearing his boxer briefs, hair messy and ruffled from sleep, with wide eyes and worry written all over his handsome face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Your voice trembles when you explain,

"There is... there is blood."

The first tears run down your cheeks as you press a hand over your mouth. You are scared out of your mind. Scared that this means you lost the babies. Scared that something went wrong, and now your happy little family will never be.

You almost scream at the irony. This pregnancy wasn't planned. Not so long ago, you contemplated getting an abortion. But now, the thought of losing your babies makes you spiral!

It's Sukuna's low voice that pulls you out of the panic attack.

"Don't worry too much, princess. It's not a lot of blood, ok? We'll get it checked. But I am sure it's nothing bad. Come here, sweetheart."

He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly while his lips press little soothing kisses to your temple and cheek. So surprisingly soft for a guy with such a bad boy reputation.

You can tell by Sukuna's posture and the tenseness in his muscles that he is worried, too, but he stays strong for you, and that is exactly what you need at that moment. He is your big, strong boyfriend, someone you can lean on and who knows what to do because he always knows everything.

Sukuna is gentle with you. He helps you get dressed and carefully carries you down to his car. He talks to you on the whole drive to the hospital to distract you. He stays by your side when you are told to take a seat in the waiting area, holding your hand the whole time until a nurse picks you up and leads you to an examination room. The last thing you see before turning the corner is Sukuna's soft, reassuring smile, even while his wide gaze gives away how scared he is, too.

Ten minutes later, you return to Sukuna with a relieved smile on your lips. You can see the breath he lets out, the way the tenseness leaves his broad shoulders and the way his hands unclench.

"The babies are fine. They were as active as ever. The doctor said everything is as it should be. The bleeding could have been caused by all kinds of things, but it's nothing bad. I should just try to avoid stress and rest a bit more."

And Sukuna wraps you in his strong arms, hugging you a bit too tightly, clinging to you as you feel him exhale shakily.

"I'm glad the three of you are fine. Promise me you will really rest more."

"Of course I will. I want the babies, too, Kuna. I won't do anything that could put them at risk."

To your surprise, you feel Sukuna tense up again, and then he pulls away just enough to look at you with a scowl on his beautiful face and worry in his eyes,

"I am not just worried about the babies. I am worried about you, too. Always about you. Fuck, I love you. I need you to take good care of yourself. I can't lose you, princess!"

And you almost melt into a puddle right then and there, feeling tears well up in your eyes again, this time because you are so touched, and so relieved, and so in love with the boy in front of you.

"I love you too. Thank you for being there for me, baby."

"Always, princess."

Your belly is constantly growing, and by now, you aren't able to hide your pregnancy anymore. You get several curious glances on campus. Some people approach you directly. Others whisper when you walk past.

But those whispers stop the moment Sukuna joins your side, walking next to you like some bodyguard, one strong, tattooed arm casually thrown over your shoulder. He leans down to kiss your temple while his cat-like maroon eyes watch the people in the hallway, smirking his most dangerous smirk at them, daring them to make a mean comment and suffer the consequences.

Sukuna places one large hand on your swollen belly, sprawling his tattooed fingers possessively over it as he sneers at the group of girls who are known to be the biggest gossips of the whole campus,

"Those babies are mine. You can let everyone know that. And if anyone has a problem with it, they can come to me and say it to my face."

And you can't help but laugh and lift your head proudly, too, grinning from ear to ear, glad that you are dating the campus bad boy and won't have to endure any bullying because you managed to get knocked up by your college sweetheart. No one dares make any snide comments after finding out who the father of your babies is

You're sitting on the couch reading a book when there's a sudden movement in your belly. You gasp and stare at your baby bump.

"Oh my god, Kuna! Come quick!"

Your loud squeal is one of excitement this time, but there is still alarm written all over Sukuna's tattooed face when he hurries into the living room, cooking spoon still in his hand,

"Fuck! What's wrong?"

But you are quick to chase his worry away, meeting him halfway, walking toward him with a broad smile on your face and your hands cupping your swollen belly.

"It's the twins! I can feel them move! Come here so you can feel them, too!"

And Sukuna looks at you with wide eyes, dropping the spoon he was holding and rushing over to you. He stops in front of you, his gaze traveling down to your baby bump.

You laugh and grab his large hands, placing them firmly on your swollen belly. It takes barely a second, and then Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours,

"Our little brats are kicking me!"

You giggle and nod,

"Yeah, it's so cool, right? I just hope they won't get too wild."

And Sukuna grins and looks at you with an amused and super proud sparkle in his maroon eyes,

"Oh, I know they will be wild. Don't get your hopes up, princess. They are strong, just like their daddy. Right, my little gremlins?"

Sukuna's voice is amused but also tender, making your heart feel full. You know that he already loves his little ones. You can hear it in his voice and see it in the soft look on his face.

Sukuna drops to his knees right in front of you, hugging you and resting his head gently against your baby bump, a tender smile on his face.

A display of such pure devotion and love that it makes you tear up a bit. Sukuna grins as he pulls up your shirt, and then he presses two soft lingering kisses onto your swollen belly. You can feel his smile against your skin just a second before you feel another strong kick from one of the twins, or maybe both of them. As if they want to greet their daddy and show him how strong they already are.

Sukuna laughs, putting his hands on your belly again, grinning as he feels his sons move around,

"Hey, listen up, little brats. Daddy is proud of you for being such strong ones, but be nice to your mommy, ok? Don't kick her too much."

You chuckle and put a hand on Sukuna's head, gently petting his pink hair and running your fingers through the silky strands as you smile down at him. You are sure that you must have heart eyes because Sukuna looks so good kneeling before you, hugging you, and kissing your baby bump while talking to his babies in your belly.

Every last sliver of doubt you might have ever had about this pregnancy dissolves at that moment as you watch your man being so loving and cute. So excited about the development of your babies.

He grins up at you, that boyish grin that always gives you butterflies, and you catch yourself thinking that you really hope your little boys will have the same grin one day.

Of course, you heard about pregnancy cravings, but you couldn't imagine how intense that would be. Now you know it.

You're having a lazy evening on the couch, watching TV with Sukuna, when a commercial for a specific yogurt starts playing, and suddenly, it is all you can think about. You need that yogurt! Right now!

You whine about it like some five-year-old, and Sukuna laughs and pulls out his phone, filming you, telling you that he always wants to remember these epic moments of your pregnancy lunacy. And you huff dramatically and roll your eyes at him and hit his biceps playfully while pouting at him,

"But Kuna, please. You want your babies to become big and strong, right? I am sure they need dairy products right now, and that's why I crave that yogurt! It's them! It's your twins! They make me want that yogurt so bad! Please get it for me, baby, will you?"

You bat your lashes at him, and Sukuna grins at you, reaching out to cup your chin and gently press your cheeks together. His grin grows as he slowly leans closer.

"Stop it, princess. You already know full well that I will buy you that fucking yogurt. If my girl wants that yogurt, she will get that yogurt."

He presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips before he gets up from the couch and is on his way to the door. He looks over his broad shoulders, winking at you. And a second later, your boyfriend is already out the door on his mission to get you all the yogurt you crave.

He returns 20 minutes later, carrying a whole pallet of the desired yogurt, walking toward you with a proud expression on his handsome tattooed face.

"See, princess. You have me to get you everything you need. Now give me a kiss, and I will give you a yogurt."

Sukuna grins that beautiful boyish grin at you, his eyes filled with warmth and tenderness, and you laugh and grab his jaw, giving him a loud, wet smack on his tattooed cheek and then a sweet, slow kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, baby. You are the best."

And you feel him smile against your lips as his large hand cups the back of your head to hold you in place so he can kiss you some more before you can pull away to indulge in your newfound yogurt addiction.

You catch Sukuna standing in the twins' room in your new apartment, paintbrush in hand, his naked chest heaving, sweat mingling with the paint stains on his skin next to the tattoos adorning his muscular body. And it's one of the sexiest sights you have ever seen. Your man building a nest for your babies.

Money is tight, so you could only afford an old and rather shabby apartment. But Sukuna is very determined to turn it into a nice home for his little family. He told you that you don't need to hire any professional craftsmen. Sukuna will do it all by himself (and with the help of his brother). He will make sure you and your babies have a clean and pretty place to live in!

And he keeps his word.

Only a short time later, the apartment is ready to move into, and it looks amazing. A cozy little place for you and Sukuna and your little boys.

Living together with Sukuna feels incredibly nice. You have already been spending all your time together ever since you were pregnant, but knowing that you are actually living together now makes things feel different. Sweeter somehow. Domestic. Just like you dreamed it would be.

This is Sukuna's and your place. Your shared home. It is where you will raise your babies, where you will laugh and cry, eat together, make love, and celebrate the twins' birthdays.

Sukuna's favorite part of the apartment is the kitchen. He spends a lot of time in there, cooking and baking for you, claiming that he needs to feed you well so you get all the nutrients you need right now.

He is stern when it comes to your health, watching you with hawk eyes when you eat and shaking his head when you push some food to the side,

"Uh uh. I looked it up, princess. Those are essential during pregnancy. You will eat them."

As annoying as it can be, you can't be mad at Sukuna. He is just trying his best to take good care of you, after all. And in the end, you always hug him and kiss him and tell him he is the sweetest, which makes Sukuna look very pleased while he announces,

"My girl will always have it good with me."

He is right, and you are very happy about it. Sukuna is super protective of you, even more so now that you are pregnant with his babies. He doesn't let you lift a single finger, insisting that you aren't to carry anything heavy and that you shouldn't do the laundry or clean the apartment.

You laugh when you come home from class and find Sukuna and Yuuji deep cleaning the kitchen together, both sweaty and bitching at each other but motivated like hell to get everything shiny and clean.

"Brat, you missed a spot there! Get your lazy ass up and keep scrubbing my fucking sink! This is for your nephews, you little shit! You don't want them to get all kinds of infections, do you?"

"No, of course not! But Kuna! Grandpa never had a clean house, and you and I lived too! You are such an asshole, oh my god!"

You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, feeling bad for Yuuji but also filled with love at seeing Sukuna so aggressively motivated about your domestic life. So eager to prepare everything for the twins.

Sukuna is a good man for you. Tough on the outside but caring on the inside. And you already know that he will be a wonderful father.

Your pregnancy progresses without any complications. But you are not immune to the emotional rollercoaster of the pregnancy hormones raging in your body. You cry more easily, sometimes without even really knowing why. You get anxious over the smallest things. And sometimes, everything is too much, and self-doubts fill your mind.

It's those moments that make you suddenly cry and hug yourself, unable to regulate your emotions, hiccuping from all the tears,

"I can't do this! I have no idea how any of this works! I suck at everything I do! I will be such a terrible mom!"

But Sukuna is there for you each and every time, catching you anytime you fall. He wraps you in his strong arms, comforts you, pulls you against his muscular body, and lets you use his broad chest as your pillow, not caring at all that your tears and snot soak his t-shirt. He strokes your hair soothingly, cuddles you, and talks to you in that low, velvety voice. All soft and sweet, murmuring reassurance to you while he pets your hair,

"Shhh, it's ok, baby. You can do it. You'll be an amazing mommy. And even on the days when you can't do it, there will still be me who can do it for you. I won't let you down, ever. You aren't alone in this, princess. You will always have me."

It makes you cry even more. But the tears turn into tears of joy, affection, and love. Sukuna is your rock. To everyone else, he may seem like a superficial troublemaker who only wants to have fun, but you know a different side of him. The accidental pregnancy showed you that Sukuna is so much more than meets the eye. You know you can always count on your bad boy with the face tattoos and the pink hair. You know he will keep his word.

You snuggle gratefully against him in those moments, crying until you fall asleep on his chest, feeling safe and loved and knowing that when you wake up a few hours later, things will look better again.

You talk to your doctor and schedule a planned c-section after seeing how big the twins are already at this point, making you freak out at the thought of trying a natural birth.

Your doctor laughs and tells you that it's no wonder they are big after seeing their daddy, and somehow, it gives you butterflies and makes you smile like an idiot, even as you nod and agree that, yes, Sukuna is really tall and big.

When you tell Sukuna the news, he is, on the one hand, proud that his brats are growing so healthily and seem to turn out just like him, but on the other hand, he is worried about you.

"I will be with you during the c-section. You better know that, princess."

"Of course, I know that, baby. But I am ok, really. I am not scared of the surgery. I am actually glad I don't have to try pressing those big boys out the natural way!"

You look at Sukuna, and his lips twitch, and then you both burst out laughing at the same time before he pulls you against him and hugs you loosely, careful not to squish your swollen belly too much.

Your baby bump is huge by now. You can't see your feet. You can't bend over. You can't move the way you want to. Your belly is heavy and in the way all the time now, and it's a bit annoying at this point.

But Sukuna always manages to make you feel better about it.

He constantly walks up to you, stands behind you, and reaches around you, cupping your swollen belly with both hands, joking about how it is exactly like the basketball he is used to from practice, only prettier.

And you laugh and complain playfully and turn around in his arms, kissing him while still smiling. And he smirks at you and informs you,

"I told you that you have me to take care of you, princess. Stop whining, and just come to me when you need help. It's really that easy."

He is right.

You tell Sukuna you are having trouble putting on your shoes, and Sukuna is instantly by your side. He makes you sit down again, takes your legs into his hands, puts your shoes on for you, and ties the shoelaces.

He is there when you need to pick up something. He is there to do the laundry for you and carry groceries and even your bag when he walks you to your classes. He is there to remind you that you should lie down and rest. And if you don't listen to him, Sukuna can still easily pick you up and just carry you to the bed or couch.

And as much as you are starting to get annoyed by your baby bump and your heavy breasts and swollen face and legs, Sukuna absolutely loves your pregnant body.

There are moments when you are close to tears and feel insecure about your new body shape, missing the way you used to look before, but Sukuna won't let you talk yourself down. He leaves no doubt about how attracted he is to you.

"Stop it, baby. You are so fucking sexy. You think you don't make my dick hard anymore? I'll show you how wrong you are about that, princess."

He walks up to you, making you gulp hard when you feel him stop behind you, his husky voice in your ear, hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine.

He presses his tall body against you while his large hands wander lovingly over your body, cupping your plump breasts, caressing your swollen belly, squeezing your squishy hips and thighs while hot, wet kisses trail up and down your neck and Sukuna rubs his rock-hard erection against your back, letting you feel how hard you still make him.

"If you weren't already round and swollen with my twins, I would fuck a baby into you right this second. But just because I can't knock you up again right now doesn't mean I can't fuck you."

Sukuna is careful to put you in positions that are comfortable for you and won't hurt the babies. And his thrusts are a bit gentler than usual, but his hips still roll against you with that perfect, sexy pace, dicking you down so good that it makes you sob his name and forget all about the insecurities you felt earlier.

You are lying on your side, and Sukuna is spooning you, fucking you from behind with those slow, deep strokes that make your head spin. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around your body, his hands squeezing your breasts, and he growls in your ear when a few droplets of milk already spill from your swollen tits.

You mewl when Sukuna doesn't wipe his hands on the sheets but licks your sticky milk off his fingers, groaning as if it's a sweet treat, telling you how good you taste.

He flicks his thumb over your puffy clit, making you scream with how good and intense everything feels with the pregnancy hormones and the increased blood flow in your body. Forgetting all about the insecurities you felt earlier as you give yourself to Sukuna and let him worship your pregnant body.

One of his hands is holding your swollen belly, while the other is between your thighs, spoiling your pussy with his loving caresses. And all the time, he praises you with that low, sexy voice, telling you how crazy you drive him.

You squeal loudly when your pleasure peaks, and you clench so hard around Sukuna's cock, that you take him with you over the edge, making him groan loudly against your neck while his large hands sprawl over your pregnant belly, holding it firmly as he ruts into you and spills his hot cum into you.

Sukuna is always sweet to you after sex, but even more so now that you are pregnant. You get cleaned, you get cuddled, you get praised, you get offered snacks, which makes you laugh softly and pull Sukuna into a deep kiss, telling him that the only snack you want right now is him.

All of this helps you accept the changes in your body and even appreciate them. Sukuna makes you feel desired and sexy, even when your legs and face are swollen, and your big baby bump makes it impossible for you to move the way you used to.

Sukuna loves your baby bump.

And not just during sex but all the time. He can't keep his hands off it. A large tattooed hand always rests on your swollen belly when you snuggle on the couch together, watching your favorite shows. Or at night, when you lie in bed, and Sukuna hugs you from behind. He even does it in public, proudly showing you and your baby bump off.

It makes you smile, thinking that just a few months ago, you and Sukuna were both freaking out about him accidentally knocking you up, but now you are both so at peace with how things are. Even happy and excited to share this new chapter of your life with each other.

You are standing in the baby room section of Ikea three weeks before your due date, a hand resting gently on your swollen belly, smiling when you feel your babies' occasional kicks.

Their daddy is busy picking out a changing table while looking completely out of place with his black clothes and intimidating-looking tattoos amidst all the white and pastel-colored furniture surrounding him.

He is sticking his tongue out in concentration, his tongue piercing glittering in the artificial light as he takes measurements with a measuring tape to determine which changing table fits better into the kid's room. And your chest fills with warmth as you watch him.

He is so focused, so invested. This is important to him. Your babies are important to him. You are important to him.

Before you even know it, you are standing behind Sukuna and wrap your arms around him, hugging him and snuggling against his broad back, at least as much as your huge baby bump allows.

Sukuna looks over his shoulder with that boyish grin on his tattooed face, looking so good that the sensation of your babies kicking you isn't the only fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"Do you want the blue changing mat or the yellow one, princess?"

You chuckle, unable to stop the broad smile spreading over your face,

"You are so sexy, daddy."

Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he lifts one eyebrow,

"You think this is sexy? Just wait until you see me giving our brats the bottle or changing their diapers."

"I'll probably faint from all the sexiness!"

You both start laughing at the same time. And Sukuna turns around to steal a few kisses before he wraps his strong arms around you and tells you about all the sexy dad things he will do when his brats are here.

And you both laugh as you stand there hugging and joking and flirting in the middle of Ikea, feeling as if you are in your own little bubble. And you kind of are, aren't you? This is your little family. Sukuna and you and the babies in your swollen belly.

And you realize that you can't wait for the little ones to finally be here. You can't wait to finally see Sukuna holding them, carrying them around in his tattooed arms, hearing him sing them to sleep with that sexy low voice, and seeing him be the proud daddy that you know he will be.

I WANT THAT SEXY DADDY IN MY LIFE AAAHHH 😭💗 This story became so much longer than I thought, but I just couldn't stop writing. I found so much comfort in this whole series. Our fave bad boy becoming all mature and responsible 💗

I hope you enjoyed Option B and that it could make you smile, too!! Thank you so much for all the sweet comments and tags on Part 1 and Option A. It was such a nice journey with y'all!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter six | formula one imagine

chapter six: fireproof

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

testing is finally here and after the car launch, y/n is not looking forward to the mercedes garage

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

the day and a half after the car launch before max was called into the factory by red bull was a slice of peace y/n had longed for for three years. but also one she couldn’t help think would be the last bit of peace she would be afforded this season.

the pair woke up the morning after the launch, bundled up together and hair sticking up in every direction.

“good morning” y/n said, words smothered by max’s chest. the dutchman grumbled to himself as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter.

“max, your phone won’t stop vibrating - please tell whoever it is to fuck off”

max groaned, flipped over and grabbed his phone. with his eyes shut, max jammed a couple buttons and suddenly the gravely voice of helmut marko rung out.

“max! where are you? the team have just informed me that you left early and are not at the hotel?”

the dutchman finally opened his eyes. he pulled y/n back into his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“helmut, it’s too early for this many questions.”

“i asked you one, very straight forward question, max.”

“i’ll be at the factory tomorrow, don’t worry.”

helmut sighed down the phone, “wherever you are, make sure you’re not late and not spotted doing anything untoward.”

“me? untoward? helmut, i didn’t know you thought so low of me.”

“the only reason i believe you is because you’re on your best behaviour with y/n back, maybe we should add her to our payroll as well.”

y/n couldn’t stop herself before she burst out laughing. she smacked a hand over her mouth but it was too late. helmut hummed.

“i see. good morning miss y/ln. make sure he’s in top condition for tomorrow.”

“will do, helmut.”

max hung up as soon as he could and threw his phone down the bed. he smiles down at y/n, “that’s not exactly how i pictured my first morning in bed with you.”

“so you’ve pictured this?” y/n questions, raising an eyebrow.

“no? yes? maybe? i definitely have but i don’t want to creep you out so what do you want to hear?”

y/n laughs as he buries his head in the pillow, whining in embarrassment.

“maxy…” she sings and pokes his back.

“don’t look at me! i’m a freak!” max yells, muffled in the pillow.

“but you’re a freak for me?”

“isn’t it obvious?”

y/n finally gets max to lessen his grip on the pillow and look back up at her. there’s a dusting of pink on his face and a concerned look in his eye.

“don’t worry, i like it. as long as you’re only a freak for me.”

max ducked his head again, “as happy as i am to hear that, can we refrain from saying it like that? i was proud i managed to wake up without morning wood and you’re really testing that resolve right now.”

y/n’s laugh reverberated around the room. without the needy meows of brando, the pair could stay snuggled in the bed for much longer than usual.

“max?” y/n asked, the dutchman had rearranged them so that he could be the little spoon and had his head resting on her chest, “please don’t be sorry for your feelings. they don’t make me uncomfortable and unlike others you didn’t just assume i reciprocated. i like what we have and i want to see where it could go, but i want to take it slow. i don’t want people butting in and adding their two pence. i just want you - and our furry babies.”

y/n could see the smile breaking out on max’s face before he even lifted his head from her chest.

“i said i just want to exist with you,” max said, “that will never, ever change.”

the dutchman’s eyes flicked down to her lips and the blush returned when he realised he wasn’t too subtle about it. y/n gives him a small nod and max leans in.

“can i?”

“please,” y/n whispered as max’s lips connected with hers. it was a small peck, just a press of lips, but it was enough. both pulled back and smiled, happy to breathe the same air for a while. y/n’s hand wrapped around his nape and pulled him in for another one. this kiss lasted longer, the pair pouring their years of pining into it, communicating something words could not describe.

for a moment y/n wished that she hadn’t returned to formula one. she wished that this would be her life. happy in her coop in west london with her and max’s cats waiting for the dutchman to come home, far away from her past ghosts and the sport that nearly killed her.

“will you still find me attractive in mercedes kit?”

“that’s a stupid question. you’re the most beautiful person in the world. yes, i would prefer if it were my number and my colours, but i’ll live with it if it means seeing you at every race.”

y/n giggled, the dutchman pressed another kiss to her lips because he could.

“i know you’ll be rooting for kimi this season, but i’ll win every race for you. even if the red bull is a shit box, i’ll fight everyone to bring that trophy home to you.”

“my singular monza trophy is a little lonely,” y/n said, “but your wins are yours, not anyone else’s”

y/n pushed back the duvet and started to get out of bed, much to the chagrin of max. despite his attempted puppy-dog eyes, y/n shuffled into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen.

“find something good to watch, i’ll cook up one last cheat meal for you,” y/n’s voice called from the hallway. max stayed led in the bed, a dumb smile on his face. it all felt a bit too good to be true and he hoped those in the paddock who had already caused some trouble would stay out of this.

despite another night of snuggles, max did not want to leave for milton keynes the next morning. y/n had made him a breakfast sandwich for the ride, but it did little to console the young dutchman even though the pair would be apart for just two days before they’d reunite in monaco and fly out to bahrain.

“i don’t wanna go… i want to stay here, you’re so much nicer to look at than christian!”

max was dragging his feet as he made his way to the hire car. he even tried to delay his departure by roping frank into a conversation but y/n had thought of that and rung down to reception in advance.

“it’s like you want me gone!” max cried as he put his bags in the car.

y/n laced her fingers in his, “you know i’ll miss you, but i don’t want to hear helmut’s voice any more than i have to, so you have to go. i’ll see you in monaco.”

max pulled her into one last kiss and reluctantly got into the car. y/n waved him off as he disappeared into the streets of london.

“finally!”

a yell boomed out in the garage, making y/n jump and stick her keys out as a makeshift weapon. frank stood at the entrance of the garage with a huge smile on his face. y/n calmed down when she saw the older man.

“frank! that scared the shit out of me! how long have you been there?”

“long enough.”

frank looked very smug. y/n made her way to the entrance, pointedly ignoring the older man.

“don’t be mad, i won’t tell anyone. i’m just glad you finally realised what was right in front of you.”

did everyone see it before her? it certainly seems that way.

“we’re taking it slow, so i’d appreciate if you kept this under your hat, frank.”

“of course, miss y/ln. would you like me to arrange for another parking spot for your flat?”

y/n tried to keep a stern look but she just couldn’t help it and smiled at the older man.

“that would be lovely, thank you.”

her apartment was quiet without max. she didn’t want to say she missed him just yet, but she had to busy herself with something before she fell down that hole. she needed to pack and get a flight back to monaco so she could spend a little more time with the cats before pre-season testing kicked off the season.

y/n’s phone buzzed with a message.

kimi: y/nnnnnnnn huge favour to ask! george can only give me a lift back to london before we go to bahrain so could i maybe get a lift to brackley???

y/n: if you buy my coffee at each stop you’ve got a deal.

kimi: yes, yes. i know your order - THANK YOU !

she better get to packing.

the italian stood on the side of the road, wrapped up in two coats, a hat and a scarf. ollie stood beside him in just a t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of flip flops, showing off his british aversion to the cold.

y/n pulled up beside the pair and winded down the window. “don’t you know hitchhikers are dangerous?”

kimi smiled and gave ollie a quick hug, popping the boot and shoving his small suitcase in. the italian slipped into the passenger seat and waved at ollie.

“why didn’t i have the idea to ask you to be my mentor?” ollie whined, “esteban is great and he has already given me a ton of lifts but you’re you!”

“snooze you lose” kimi said, poking out his tongue.

“esteban is great ollie, don’t believe all this shit about him being a bad teammate. he’s lovely and will be more than happy to help you out. however, we do need to go because i need to drop off this princess and get a flight to monaco. ciao!”

y/n stood on the gas and flew off down the street. from the corner of her eye, y/n could see kimi studying her. this wasn’t too strange for the italian, he often just stared at her, amazed that she had even agreed.

“i can feel you staring kimi, do you have a question?”

“why are you so happy?”

y/n laughed at the bluntness. the italian sputtered, “i mean i’m happy you’re happy, but i can’t help but be suspicious. i haven’t heard a peep from you since the car launch… and a little birdy told me you left with a certain someone.”

“it’s been two days, kimi!”

“you’re still smiling, you can’t stop and considering you smiled maybe twice in the first couple days i knew you - this means something!”

“fine! you caught me. i did go home with max. i’m not saying anymore than we’re happy and we’re taking it slow. i’m telling you because i believe for a good mentor relationship i should be completely open, as should you. also you’re like a quasi-son to me so there’s also that. do not tell anyone else, i’m serious. not even ollie.”

kimi whined at that, “but i tell ollie everything!”

“well not this. you saw how some of the people, including your teammate are with me and max, i do not want to give them any ammunition, okay?”

kimi hummed to himself, his brain whirring so loudly that even y/n could hear it over the music and the road. “speaking of those who WILL be without ammunition because i WILL keep my mouth zipped shut… how are we actually planning on tackling george this season?”

y/n was making the turn off of the motorway and towards brackley as she chuckled, “aside from physically tackling him at testing? i am joking, by the way. kimi, i don’t want you to worry about george anywhere but the track. he talks a big talk, but he’s very easy to frustrate when he’s not winning. don’t give him the rise he’ll want, okay?”

the tension rose in the car, it had all been fun and games up until this point, cocktails parties and car launches. but now it was getting real. y/n had the voice in the back of her head that worried that her off-track drama with the other drivers could impact kimi’s career.

“please stop worrying, y/n. i know what you’re thinking, but i am capable of handling it myself. i may only be eighteen but i’m not afraid of anyone.”

y/n pulled up outside of the mercedes factory and turned to kimi. she grabbed his hands, “promise me, kimi. promise me that if the drama with me gets too much, you will say something. i know it’s your dream to work with me, but make sure i do not interfere with your career.”

kimi scoffed, “them being afraid of you will never be your fault, you know-”

“it doesn’t matter if my fault or not, if their pettiness fucks with you, i won’t be able to forgive myself…”

just as they spoke, george pulled up beside them in his mercedes. the brit wasn’t alone in his car however. a brunette woman sat in the passenger seat, and much like george, her eyes narrowed at the sight of y/n.

“that’s carmen, george’s girlfriend. she doesn’t usually come to the factory with him?” kimi gasped, “maybe she’s here to stake her claim on george, as if you’d want him anyway…”

y/n laughed as kimi got out of the car. the italian grabbed his stuff from the boot and walked round to the window. y/n rolled it down and the two did their handshake.

“enjoy the prep, bunny, don’t make too much mess. see you in bahrain!”

the moment was cut short by someone clearing their throat. carmen had rolled down her window and was looking at kimi, less than impressed. the italian squeaked a quick goodbye and shuffled towards the entrance.

y/n tried not to make eye contact with carmen as she inputted the airport’s address into her gps. she was baffled by the news that george even had a girlfriend, not that she wanted kimi or the couple to know that. how long had they been together? did she know about y/n and about george’s weird feud with her? too many questions and not enough answers.

george and carmen made their way past y/n’s car and stopped just in front of the entrance, pointedly in y/n’s eye line. the two kissed, messily for people their age, and just to sum up her return so far, george kept eye contact with y/n the entire time, his hand wandering lower and lower on carmen.

2025 was the year of psychological warfare it seemed. y/n could work with that.

she sped out of the car park with new vigour. if psychological warfare was what george was ordering, y/n needed to know everything about everyone. she had stayed away from the drama surrounding formula one in her three years away from the sport, but it was time to go full gossip girl.

it’s crazy how much you can find in an hour in an airline bar about your former colleagues. y/n’s phone started ringing loudly, earning her some dirty looks in the lounge.

“maxy! did you know that george dated nyck’s sister?” y/n said, shovelling the free nuts in her mouth, “and that lando and pierre once liked the same girl in dubai?”

“why oh why are you telling me about this?” max said.

“because that prick wants psychological warfare, so i have to know everything!”

max hummed, not convinced. “am i like missing something?”

“i took kimi to brackley this morning and was treated to a lovely show from george and carmen. the weirdo kept eye contact with me the entire time! so if he wants to play it like that, i gotta know my enemies.”

“as weird as this all is, i’m glad to see you’re so into all of this, miss detective.”

y/n laughed, “i know i’m reading way too much about all of this, but i swear to god if he tries to fuck with kimi or you, i’ll play dirty if i have to. i mean i just don’t understand why he’s being such an asshole now about everything i supposedly did when he has a girlfriend - insecure much?”

max laughed down the line, they really were so much more alike than people would think. hearing her now, max wished she was back in the paddock for qatar and abu dhabi last year just to see what kind of revenge she could’ve thought up.

“anyway, maxy, are you still at the factory?”

“yeah, we’re just on a break, i’m outside getting some air and i didn’t know whether you were on the plane yet or not - you know you could’ve taken air max if you wanted to?”

y/n smiled, “i didn’t need your plane for a trip to monaco, silly! i’ll only be on the flight for a little while anyway and i’m only going because i’m having withdrawal symptoms from my babies!”

“why would you say this, now i want to see them!”

the boarding sign popped up, “ah! i gotta go maxy, i’ll text you when i’m back at yours - what time does the cat sitter go?”

“she will have left like an hour or so before you get back. stay safe, i -”

there was chatter in the background, “i gotta go, bye!”

max hung up quickly. y/n was left to her thoughts again and just how much life can change. this time three years ago she was making notes about the season coming, turns to watch and previous first lap incidents and now she’s compiling gossip on the grid’s personal lives? part of her wanted to be ashamed, but in the same vain, she knew that her adversaries hadn’t spared a moment for introspection.

max’s apartment in monaco was alight with the impatient meows from brando, sassy and jimmy. the cats yowled like they hadn’t been fed in days, although clarissa, the cat sitter, had sent max and y/n nearly hourly updates on them.

“oh my babies! momma missed you so much!” y/n said, abandoning her suitcase at the door and ushering the cats towards the couch. once she was sat, brando bullied his way onto her lap, his spot, and jimmy and sassy snuggled up beside her as closely as possible.

she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture of herself and the cats and sent it to max.

max: all my favourites in one place, you’re making listening to christian drone on even harder

y/n: you better keep listening, maxy, don’t want anyone else winning this season do you?

max: i do hate losing…

y/n smiled to herself, there was no lying to now, this place with the cats and max felt like home. the most at home y/n had felt for years.

“right, momma needs to shower and cook, babies!” brando did not look impressed but consoled himself by going back to grooming an equally unimpressed jimmy.

y/n rustled around max’s wardrobe trying to find a smaller towel for her hair. max wasn’t the most organised, especially with a wardrobe where he could just shut the door and forget the mess behind it. she finally got the towel loose, but with the last yank, a small book came flying out of the wardrobe.

the book was a small leather-bound book, clearly loved, bursting at the seams with use. y/n flicked open the book, scanning a couple of the pages. she could recognise the handwriting anywhere, was this max’s diary?

y/n flicked through a couple more of the pages before she landed on a page that boldly stated “fuck lando” in bold capitals. oh? the page was dated for a day in january 2020, just before she started her formula one career.

she knew this was a massive invasion of privacy, but max had never mentioned having a bust up with lando around that time - her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

i don’t know what lando’s problem is? i was on a discord call with him, george and alex this evening and he was in such a mood with me. it was all about y/n as usual with him, he’s being proper weird about her. of course we’ve already started training and discussing racing lines? we’re best friends. it’s almost like he knows i have feelings for her? but i know i haven’t been THAT obvious, at least not as bad as him and george. they think i don’t know, but they must think i’m dumb or blind (or both). he’s going to ruin his friendship with her if he’s not careful. i have loved y/n for as long as i can remember, but i don’t ever intend on making that her problem - why would she ever want to be with me? they assume because they’ve known her so long that they have this weird claim on her. i don’t know - i have a bad feeling about how this might all play out… i’ll just be there for y/n, she’s going to need it…

y/n slapped the book shut, feeling guilty about just how much she had read. max had liked her for that long? even when she was a jittery rookie with hormonal acne and way too much to say. and lando has always had this problem? there was never any chance of them being good teammates was there?

it feels like there’s a surprise around every corner since y/n reopened the pandora’s box that is formula one. how much was there left to reveal? to hurt her? can she handle what other secrets the sport has waiting for her?

but on the other side, if she had stayed in the shadows, y/n would’ve never known about max’s feelings and would never have the opportunity for what she feels right now.

y/n tucked the book back in the wardrobe and tried to wash the guilt off in the shower.

bahrain international circuit

testing was a boring affair for everyone that wasn’t in or working on the car. y/n was on her third coffee of the morning just out of pure boredom. kimi was in the car for the morning session and despite him paying her salary, toto did not seem like he’d make good conversation based on the frown on his face.

y/n saw sky making their way back down the pit lane and ducked back into the drivers’ rooms. because timing and fate loved y/n, george was leaving his just at the same moment.

it took a concerted effort not to roll her eyes as she forced out a quick good morning. george stopped in his tracks.

“good morning to you too?”

y/n gave him a nod and continued to kimi’s room, george grabbed her hand.

“are we going to have a problem the entire season? all of kimi’s career?”

“why would i have a problem, george? is there a reason i should have a problem?”

george huffed, “listen to me. we used to be so close… i wasn’t the one who crashed into you, why are you treating me like this?”

“george i’m not treating you like anything! 19 other drivers didn’t hear from me, you’re not special.”

y/n took a sip of her coffee, trying to school her heart rate, “you may have not crashed into me, but you hardly said much afterwards. you didn’t even come and visit me in the hospital? you didn’t post or say a single thing about me? you barely could bring yourself to say my name, so please spare me the lecture.”

george opened his mouth to respond but stopped, he tried to make eye contact with y/n but she avoided it.

“i didn’t think you wanted to see anyone to do with formula one! and you’re you! you hate dumb shit like instagram dedications and all that stuff…”

“you and your little partner in crime seem to be baffled about how max was the one who slipped through the cracks and stayed in my life. well read between the lines, idiot! his dedication to me is still pinned on his account, my number is on his helmet and he made the effort after the crash! you did nothing and you still expect me to coddle you?”

george tried to interject, “no! i think you’ve said enough already, george. you say all of this shit about how i led you on, but now you’re bringing up old drama when you’ve been in a relationship for years? so what’s the real reason? because so help me god, you fuck with kimi and i burn this whole place down.”

just behind george, y/n saw toto come into view. the austrian’s face told her that he had heard everything.

“well wasn’t that just great, thank you, you two. next time you have a domestic at track, please lower your voice, the entire garage now knows your business.”

“toto, i can assure you i will be nothing less than professional this season. winning with mercedes is my top priority, y/n will learn her place in this garage.”

even toto seemed taken aback by george’s words. y/n turned, her shoulder knocking george’s on the way past, “i think toto is well aware of who he hired and i know my place, just like kimi knows his… don’t crane your neck too much looking up at him on the podium.”

y/n shut the door to kimi’s driver room, and slid down to the floor. it was only the first day of testing and she’s exhausted. just outside the room she can hear george and toto still talking.

“i’m just saying i think it’s insane and honestly a little disrespectful that you hired her to begin with, toto.”

“i hired her because she was a talented driver and is willing to mentor kimi. i was not aware you two had a problem, and the fact that i’ve heard so much about it now without knowing what it actually is makes me think that the problem was in fact YOU. now calm down and get ready for your session.”

okay, maybe not all hope was lost. but y/n knew that this was just the start, the real racing had yet to begin and who knows how far george could take it, especially if the mercedes is competitive and especially if he finds out about her and max.

y/n popped open her laptop to keep track of kimi’s times on track but found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. by the time her impromptu nap had finished, kimi was making his way back into the garage, finishing the morning session. y/n made her way back into the garage to greet him as he made his way out of the car.

the session looked positive for the italian, but the pair were still anxious to see how george would perform, considering both were on the same program for the day. when kimi lifted his helmet, the two made eye contact, the italian’s eyes were so expressive that y/n could already hear the excited chatter.

“oh my god, y/n that was amazing! i know i’ve driven f1 cars before but knowing it’s actually mine for the season? wow!”

“well i’m glad you enjoyed it, let’s get some electrolytes in you before we sit down to analyse everything.”

the pair headed for the mercedes hospitality, with the other morning drivers doing the same throughout the paddock. during y/n’s nap she had missed the only real incident of the day, but a certain spaniard was about to make sure she knew.

“hey! antonelli!”

kimi’s head whipped around to see an angry carlos sainz charging towards him. the spaniard was clearly taking advantage of the lack of media outlets allowed at testing, getting in kimi’s face.

“you might be a rookie, but you’ll stay out of my way, got it? impede me like that again and we’ll see what happens!”

y/n pulled kimi behind her and jabbed her finger at carlos’ chest. “you self-important asshole, he didn’t impede you it’s testing. i know you’re at williams this season, so you’re going to have to invent a storyline for yourself, but trust me, this is not the one you want.”

“stay out of this y/ln, why don’t you stick to hopping into whoever’s winning’s bed, huh?”

y/n let out a sarcastic laugh, not caring about the small crowd forming around them. “your glory days, well whatever you call being stuck in charles’ shadow, playing politics with daddy to get given wins at ferrari only to be cast aside when you got a bit too big for your boots, are over. don’t be the bitter old bitch that makes rookies’ lives hell? oh wait, you’ve always been that way haven’t you?”

“you are a perpetual victim, y/n. that was years ago, get over it.”

“and yet you still act the exact same way. telling, really.”

carlos stayed quiet this time and y/n took that as the chance to guide kimi to hospitality. with their backs turned, “she won’t always be there for you, rookie! she can’t sleep with all of the stewards and she won’t be in the office to bat her eyelashes. so watch your back.”

y/n kept walking despite kimi tugging on her arm, wanting to retaliate. “stop. let him make a fool of himself.”

despite y/n trying to de-escalate the situation, max was less willing to do so. the dutchman had only heard a fraction but that was enough to rear the head of mad max.

“you think you’re so cute with this shit don’t you, sainz,” max said, looming over the spaniard, “you people never change, it’s pathetic.”

“the only thing that’s pathetic here is you, being her lap dog - and we’re meant to be scared of you? all we gotta do is flash an ankle or raise a hand and you’ll be eating out of our palm.”

max’s hands were shaking by his side and it took everything inside of him not to lunge at carlos. y/n’s grip on kimi tightened when jos was brought up, the crowd around them tensing as well.

“i don’t know what she does for you, but you surely can’t still be falling for it all these years later. i remember at toro rosso when you’d wake up the whole camp screaming in your motorhome and you’d call her crying. a four-time world champion and you still go crawling back to her.”

“she’s worth more than you could ever wish to be. i don’t know what propaganda your dad or lando has been feeding you, but you’re a grown man, you’re too old to be falling for it. now leave her and kimi alone. i’d threaten you, but it’s unlikely that williams will be anywhere near me this season.”

max gave one last look to y/n before running back towards the red bull garage. the crowd that had formed chattered amongst themselves and started to disperse. carlos looked enraged but backed off, not without one final glare towards the italian.

“i didn’t know formula one was just this dramatic,” kimi said, “i need to work on my insults!”

y/n laughed, but a voice from behind her stopped her dead in her tracks.

“always the centre of drama, aren’t you y/n? always looking for trouble.”

zak brown.

fin.

note: wow this took me so long to write and i kinda hate it! i am in such a rut rn idk what to do ? but i hope you guys enjoyed it anyway!

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[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 2 - Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomfiore]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Azul is no stranger to visiting different shops to stay on top of trends. Valentine's Day wasn't something they had in the Coral Sea so this trip was more for the experience than anything. He's taking in the overwhelming but impressive amount of red, pink, and white decorations while trying to look at the other shoppers out of the corner of his eye.

What are they buying? What's most popular?

The holiday seems too brief to plan a full menu, or even to-go specials. Maybe he can do something next year.

There's an emphasis on chocolates and sweets. He's not even eating any of it and his teeth hurt! The small chocolate assortments make more sense than the huge brick of chocolate--dark chocolate?--several Pomfiore students are planning to split between themselves. His stomach hurts at the thought of trying to eat even a third of what they're holding.

In his opinion it's an unimpressive holiday. A marketable one for sure, but unimpressive. Clearly it's meant for the nice, sentimental, mushy people out there.

Not to say there's no one he'd spoil. No one he cares about. Matter of fact, he's got something crunchy in his basket for Floyd! And if it weren't for his mother living underwater, she might like some of these cutesy knickknacks! A set of cookie cutters catch his eye and Azul throws them in his basket without thinking.

Damn hand-brain.

He stares into his own basket, wondering what the justification is. There's a part of his brain saying he doesn't need a reason but he's not an impulsive person. He's a practical person and the practical reason he needs those cookie cutters is to make cookies for the lounge in case any poor soul misses their chance to get something from Sam's!

Yes. Yes, that's it.

He may or may not be trying to tell you he likes you by collecting heart-shaped things. You'll check him out at the register and he'll just keep handing you heart things. Offering his heart over and over.

Not that you'd know. Azul doesn't have the guts to tell you yet. He's got three hearts but no guts.

It's just not the right time, he tells himself. Not the right way.

He puts sprinkles and chocolate stirring spoons into his basket. There's a little mushroom figurine that has white hearts instead of the usual spots. That's for Jade.

Azul weaves between the shelves to get to the refrigerated section, buying a couple of cartons of milk and ice cream. He's not fast but he's stronger than he looks. Aside from the work in his mother's restaurant in the Coral Sea, cooking on land has cultured a lot of muscle in unexpected ways--straining full stockpots, blending quarts of sauces, roasting whole chickens, and hefting huge fish onto the cutting board for portioning. It'll be nothing to carry it all back.

He just doesn't like to do it. And he doesn't like to lose his voice or go completely pink in front of you, but he does. Azul tries to look without looking, charmed by the glittery dangle in your hair and how it brings out the color of your eyes.

Then, he hears it. "How much do you cost?"

It is not enough to beg his pardon. The Seven must also be begged.

A fury whips up inside of him. He's furious that it's just so easy for that lander to chat you up. He's furious that he's not confident enough to do it when he's been drowning in these feelings for weeks. The manager part of his brain kicks in and he becomes furious that you're being accosted on the clock.

SAM WOULD NEVER, BUT WHERE IS HE?! STAFF SHOULD NOT BE MADE TO ENDURE SUCH CONDITIONS!

"Hardly appropriate for the occasion, don't you think?" Azul has stepped in with his signature smooth smile and calm demeanor. He has no cane, hat, or coat at the moment but he knows he makes people uncomfortable without them. There's something about him that makes people nervous. The pecking dread of 'he's human but not totally human' makes them jumpy and very prey-like.

"I-I was just messing around," the guy deflects.

"There's a time and a place. Unfortunately, it's not here and not now. You're interrupting the flow of business and I don't think the other patrons are happy," Azul hums a little as he and the abysmal Casonova look back at all the people in line. They are, in fact, not happy.

"I'll just go." he grabs the change bashfully and doesn't look back.

Azul thanks the person who let him cut in line, half wondering if said person will come back and try to coax a favor out of him. "Thanks, Azul." you smile at him.

"You're most welcome." Azul adjusts his glasses before layering the bags on his arms. You help him with the door. "I'd be happy to treat you to a milkshake. You know, something sweet to make up for whatever THAT was." he gestures to the guy in the distance.

WHY IS HE TALKING? WHY DID HE KEEP TALKING? THE LEGS NEED TO MOVE BUT THEY'RE NOT!

"Sounds great! I'll stop by after my shift."

"Okay," his voice cracks a bit but you don't hear it because the door's already closed. He breaths a sigh of relief.

----

Floyd was sent to pick through the pink and red chaos at Sam's while Jade and Azul redecorated for a Valentine's special at the lounge. It was a last-minute idea inspired by the deluge of advertising. They'd gotten bigger things in town like tablecloths and fancy napkins but smaller treats were lacking. He was tasked with getting melting chocolates and pre-made stuff to balance out the strawberries and fresh groceries they bought.

A big, aggravated sigh passed through his sharp teeth. The line is long and he doesn't really want to do this. Floyd feels his brain shutting off as his looks at heart streamers and silver-and-pink tinsel. At least I won't have to slave over a hot burner all night, Floyd sighs again as he looks at the goods and wonders what would make Azul happy.

The menu will be limited. Each item is heart-shaped, sweet, or both. It honestly just sounds like an excuse to sell people overpriced sugar.

Floyd buys a couple packs of melting chocolates in different colors and some crunchy sour candies for the trouble. Jade sends him a text asking him to grab a couple of cans of whipped cream for the pancakes and crepes. He steps out of line, grabs the cans, and pauses when he hears the guy shoot his shot.

"How much do you cost?"

Really?

Landers are so weird. They don't seem to have any conditions for mating. Why would you entertain this dude when he hasn't shown you he could provide or protect you? Spending money to buy things so he could talk to you isn't the way to provide. Buying your time is no different than those underwater pricks trying to curry his dad's favor with gifts.

It's disingenuous and disgusting.

"I don't see a 'for sale' sign. Can't buy it if it's not advertised." Floyd frowns at the little worm in front of him, sharp teeth poking out beneath his upper lip. "That's how shops work if you didn't know." Floyd laughs.

He was stupid enough to ask you out so he might be too stupid to realize why that pickup line didn't work.

"R-Right." the guy nods, swallowing thickly. Floyd was absently rolling his shoulder, annoyed with how long he'd held the basket. The guy noticed his working muscle and booked it, grabbing most of his change. A coin skipped off the counter, twinkling under the lights. Giggling to himself, Floyd stooped to pocket the change.

"Heya Shrimpy,"

"Hey Floyd," you started scanning the basket of items.

"Ya hungry? It's pretty busy in here."

"A little." you admitted. "But I'll be off soon. I can go back to Ramshackle and make something."

"Nah, come to the Lounge! We're doing specials for groups and couples."

"Does Grim count?" you give a little laugh. Azul lets him in sometimes depending on his attitude. At the very least, he'll let Grim get something to go.

"You get the best deal if you go with me. I'll buy your whole meal." Floyd wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully. His gold eye shines.

"Oh! I like that! I'll bite!"

"A bit early for that but I'll see you there." Floyd knows what he said has confused you. You landers aren't really keen on stuff from the Coral Sea but that's okay. He had a date with you and that's what matters.

----

Jade isn't quite sure what Sam's inventory will hold but he's been tasked with finding interesting things for the Lounge. Pink things, shiny things, profitable things--anything. Azul is convinced it will give him an edge over other places to eat. Never mind the fact that convenience is key and the students don't want to pay for the bus fare or compete with crowds in town.

He peruses the chocolate molds and candy necklaces, amused by the fact you can wear it and eat it. What a novel idea! Sam put a few types of tea on reserve for him and Jade knew they were pretty shades of pink and blue when brewed so that was something. The mer picks up a box of crunchy straw-like things and puts them in the basket. If they don't work as real straws, they can be milkshake accents.

Loaf cakes catch his eye. You could get at least ten slices out of each; top them with a bit of ice cream and you have a cheap but elegant-looking dessert. He puts a few in the basket. Teas considered, Jade is confident in his choices and ready to check out.

"Oya oya? What's this?" Jade's golden eye pierces the spineless lander in front of him. Did his ears deceive him or were you being accosted by unworthiness? "Do repeat yourself. I'm interested."

It sounds like an ask but it's not. It's a demand. A demand for this man to prostrate himself as an apology for his inferiority. For the gall to so much as breathe in your presence.

A punishment for conceiving the notion to approach you, he supposes. A light punishment, all things considered. Jade was capable of far more than some casual embarrassment, after all. His smile was polite but his words were anything but. "Go on. You may not have their full attention but you have mine."

"J-Just forget I said anything, okay?" the guy completely ignores him to whimper to you. He snatches whatever he bought so quick Jade doesn't know what it was.

No matter.

"Hello there," Jade smiles down at you. You definitely fit the holiday theme. Oh! Does that mean he should take you back to the lounge? You're interesting and that fits Azul's criteria.

Yes, he thinks you'd be perfect in the lounge.

"Hi Jade." you pack his items away dutifully. You bag the teas carefully.

Pink and shiny--yes, you must come to the lounge.

"Seeing as you're working for Sam today, I'd love for you to stop by and try these teas. I'm sure he'll appreciate feedback from more than just myself."

"I can make time for tea."

"Perfection."

----

Kalim is admiring the myriad of pinks and reds, bracelets and bangles jingling as he skips into Sam's. Valentine's Day is an interesting holiday. It's practically bursting at the seams with color and he's delighted to know red features heavily. The holiday is practically made to host in Scarabia!

Maybe they could make a red-inspired menu? A red and pink menu? He can't really think of foods that would fit the theme and he'd rather not give Jamil a stomach ache trying all of the chocolate things in here. Kalim trots off to look at the flowers and trinkets, just narrowly avoiding Jamil's stern grab. "Don't run off without me!" Jamil chastises, Kalim giving a half-hearted hum as he analyzed a pair of gold and red earrings.

They weren't cheap but they weren't expensive, either. The price point was fair, Kalim thought. Being who he was, he'd learned to tell the quality of gems and gold from a young age.

Would you like jewelry? He's never seen you wear jewelry. Kalim has bugged Jamil about you a million times, bouncing ideas off of him until he was so frustrated he left the room.

"I think they'd appreciate food more, given their circumstances." Jamil puts the earrings back on the shelf.

"But I always give them food, Jamil! Don't you think they want something different?"

"You're overthinking, Kalim," Jamil taps him in the forehead with a finger. "People are simple. Give them food and attention."

"I would've taken them out on a carpet ride but someone hid my carpet." even when Kalim was trying to cut his red eyes and look peeved, it didn't work. His face was too round and cherubic for it.

"I don't trust that thing," Jamil huffs, guiding him back to the line.

Kalim listens to people talk about plans to split chocolates and call relatives to see what they'd like and a sad pang cuts through him.

Why isn't it that easy for him? He's got more money than people could ever dream of and yet he feels like he's not doing enough for you.

Not that you'd know what he's done for you. He hasn't exactly said he likes you yet. Surely he'd made it obvious with all the invites to Scarabia, right? You hadn't quite caught on to the grocery drops yet but he understands the confusion; Crowley took credit for at least one of those and Kalim was not happy.

"I see an empty-handed Imp!" Sam makes him and Jamil jump. "Are my wares not enough for you, Little One?" he tuts at Kalim's empty hands.

"Oh there's lots of cool stuff!" Kalim promises, smiling brightly. "I just have to be careful about what I eat!"

"What about some roses? Those are popular! They're up there by the register. And we have small fruit arrangements in the refrigerated section, of course."

"Actually, we're just here to deliver an invitation." Jamil redirects Kalim when he seems to be thinking about going to the refrigerated section.

"We could get some festive napkins!" Kalim is leafing through packs of heart designs and colors. Sam seems satisfied. Jamil heaves an irritated sigh as the store owner moves on to his next mark.

Kalim almost drops the napkins when he hears what the guy said to you. It takes Jamil by surprise, too. Jamil starts to panic when Kalim doesn't move; Kalim's outbursts were rare but even rarer were the moments he just froze.

A frozen Kalim means he's contemplating. Dipping his toes into the side of himself he doesn't ever show because it disgusts and disappoints him. The young boy squares his shoulders and raises his head in a way that proves he was raised with etiquette and presence. It's the walk of someone unconcerned because he has so much money that nothing is a problem.

Quick as a flash that cunning, stewing heaviness disappears. Kalim hooks his arm around the guys neck, taking him by surprise. Disarmed by his sunny grin and stunned by his boldness, he stumbles over to a wall of cards. Jamil slithers through the aisles and positions himself just so to listen.

In these rare moments, when Kalim puts on that face, they think alike. Kalim hates these moments because it shows him that people just want money. That they'll trip over themselves for enrichment, compromising morals and anything else as long as the price is right.

But this time it works in his favor.

"Instead of asking how much they cost," the sunniness slowly drains from Kalim's voice, "ask yourself how much it would cost for you to leave them alone. Like, not ask them out again. At all. Ever."

It's the first time someone at NRC realizes Kalim's not all sunshine and rainbows. And that his pampered life hasn't left him completely soft. Kalim had to go through the same training Jamil did, being the heir to a massive fortune and all. He needs to be able to hold his own even though he shouldn't expect to.

Only he and Jamil know some of his rings are hollow and hold poisons. The guy doesn't know how close he is to said poisons.

"Y'know, it's, uh..it's on me. Free." the guy squeaks out, dipping out from under Kalim's arm.

Content, Kalim skips up to you and hands you the decorated envelope with gold calligraphy. "Please come to my party!" he looks at you hopefully, eyes shining.

"I would love to! You know I love your parties!"

"Perfect! I'll pick you up when you're done, okay?" Kalim waves to you.

"KALIM DON'T LEAVE! WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE NAPKINS! COME BACK!" Jamil has no idea how many sets of napkins he just left with. "Keep the change," he breaths, darting after him.

----

Jamil was taking a rare moment to himself. Lilia and Cater promised they'd keep Kalim occupied for a little while so he could take a breather. They both understood what it was like to look after people, even if it wasn't as serious or to the same degree. The Pop Music Club sessions were normally two hours long, so he had time. Kalim had been yammering nonstop about the Sam's Valentine's setup so Jamil promised to take a look on his behalf.

He grew up around unfathomable finery, almost indulgent to the point of foolishness. Gold forks, gold plates, a knife handle carved from a tree in the Sunset Savanna and inlaid with diamonds--you name it. Perhaps that was why nothing caught his eye, Jamil thought.

So many people were excited about it, though. He had to put himself in their shoes. Their average shoes, just like he was forced to be average lest Kalim feel inadequate.

Poor thing, Jamil rolled his eyes. He was a pro at filtering out noise thanks to Kalim and his ridiculous number of siblings. It was easy to let his brain go and really look at the trinkets and seasonal food. Loathe as he was to admit, some of this stuff was cute.

Jamil let himself bask in the happiness. The freedom.

This is what he wanted for himself one day--traveling, seeing the sights, sampling unusual foods at special times of the year.

Maybe this wasn't so silly after all.

He picked up a few packets of instant curry, only what he felt he could eat and dispose of before fetching Kalim. Curry was a huge weakness of his and he hated that Kalim practically banned it. The amount of caffeine and tea he drank probably bordered on unhealthy (or at least deserved research) but it didn't stop him from throwing a canned coffee into his basket. Because he liked his curry savory and hot, he threw in a strawberry-rose milk drink. It seemed interesting.

Jamil felt the crick in his neck when he snapped his head up in disbelief. Who was this nobody asking you out?!

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

With no Kalim here to temper him, to distract him or force him into the mediocrity, Jamil thought of letting go and lighting the guy up just because.

It really was appalling, his approach. Nothing to offer? What talents or skills did he have? What made him so special, more special than anyone else at NRC?

Nothing, that's what. He probably didn't even know HALF of what Jamil did!

"More than you will ever earn," Jamil answered him. "I'm sure your capacity to make money is on the same pitiful level as your self-awareness. Or do you need glasses to see they're not interested?"

He was known for his biting wit so this was nothing out of character. The way he stared into the boy as if to set him on fire might have been, had no one ever seen him try to get Floyd to cooperate in Basketball Club.

He'd earned his Viper namesake, the boy's ego clearly bitten and bruised as he dragged himself away. His words were deadly, much like Viper venom. Jamil didn't bother watching him leave, setting his basket quietly on the counter and taking out the items.

"Thank you."

All of that venom suddenly dried up. Jamil was feeling quite shy and toothless, not that he'd ever admit it. If he looked up at you, he knew he'd be done for. He could feel his neck heating up.

Unable to resist poking a little fun at him--when did you ever see him blush?--you handed him the change and slapped a smiley face sticker on the back of his hand.

IT HAD HEART EYES!

"I have to go." Jamil took off.

----

Vil was disciplined ninety-five percent of the time so he could indulge the other five percent. Rook all but dragged him to Sam's, waxing poetic about the holiday in all it's pink, sugary glory. He even made Vil promise not to look at any labels while he shopped. Or he could just compromise and let Rook buy him one sweet that he would have to eat no matter what.

That didn't seem too bad, so Vil conceded. Live a little, right?

Several companies had reached out to him in the beginning of February but their products were gluttonous and made him feel sick just looking at them. He felt like he'd be doing his followers a disservice to promote them because they just looked like death in a package. The only one he'd considered so far was a juice from an organic company called 'Beautiful Blends'.

No, not because they had beautiful in the name. The ingredients were organic--he researched the farms--and they had a nutritionist and dietician developing the blends. They had a blend for energy, immune support, digestion, and even one for headache relief. He was interested in the actual beauty blend; it had strawberry, coconut milk, collagen, and several other things he was interested in. It was a milky pink and perfect for Sam to sell during Valentine's Day.

NRC wasn't exactly health-minded outside of Pomfiore so he wasn't worried about missing out. He broke off from Rook, moving with grace and purpose to the refrigerated section. Vil took a split second to admire his reflection in the glass door, satisfied with his skin and the loose hair that escaped his half-bun but had the courtesy to frame his face despite its disobedience. His ring and nails clinked against the glass bottle but he paid it no mind.

"Would you like a basket?" Rook offered his. Vil peered curiously into said basket, unsurprised to see other flavors of Beautiful Blends in there. Rook knew him eerily well. Maybe he knew which ones he'd like to try. He also knew Vil was against overconsumption and wouldn't buy them all at once nor of his own volition.

"I'm fine, thanks." Vil smiled at him, appreciating his constant presence. His discipline and tenacity tended to chase a lot of people away but not Rook. There were people who appreciated him for his routines and followed him loyally, but not like Rook.

Rook wasn't just a 'yes' man. He was Vil's balance in every aspect. As if to prove that, he took the Beautiful Blend from Vil and put it in the basket. Vil didn't like his hands getting wet because that messed with the lotion he applied and it left a weird film on his hands the rest of the day.

"I just said--I BEG YOUR PARDON?" Vil was caught off guard by the flirtation and couldn't believe his ears. It was rare for anyone to surprise him but some NOBODY is trying to make nice with HIS POTATO?!

AS IF!

All he can manage is, "HOW GAUCHE!" as he breezes to the front of the line and stares at the man, absolutely floored. This moment would be a permanent reference for any scene where he needed to look surprised. And lost for words.

And disgusted. And furious.

"You don't think we'd make a cute couple?" the guy teases.

"You want to know what I think?" Vil proceeds to systematically point out the guy's flaws--posture, hair, that one zit coming up in the middle of his forehead--before pointing out that his greatest offense is his sheer selfishness. He's selfish for putting you in a situation where you might cave under peer pressure!

"That's enough, Roi du Poison," Rook shushed him, patting his arm and forcing it down so Vil quit pointing at the little gremlin. If he didn't stop him, he'd keep going. Rook was secretly glad he'd grabbed the Beauty Blend out of his hand earlier; if he was any more worked up it might've gone across the guy's head.

The guy was stunned by the takedown. Vil pointed out things he hadn't thought about. Things he was already insecure about (Vil could tell). "Apologize!" Vil barked in that Housewarden voice.

"I'm sorry." the guy left with whatever trash he bought.

Vil took a moment to compose himself, hands on his hips as he watched the gremlin leave. Fully relaxed, Vil walked to the counter and motioned for Rook to hand him the basket. He set everything out like nothing happened.

"Thank you, Vil."

"It was nothing." he clicked his tongue, waving his hand dismissively.

"Not to me."

Oh, you're clever. And honest. And cute. Maybe he'll drop a hint about his crush in his next interview. Rook forgets he knows French, too, and Vil smashes his hat down on his head on the off chance you know what 'he wants to love you and hug you and kiss you' is in French.

----

It's only natural that Rook would show up for the Valentine's Day sale. He is, after all, a lover of love. Sam never fails to disappoint with his wares and Rook is having a grand time perusing the aisles. There's copious amounts of candy, thoughtful cards, card games for couples, and fill-in-the-blank books with cute phrases and poems!

"You're mine," he smiles at said book, putting it in his basket. There's condensed versions of romantic classics and, had he not read them a million times before, that would be in his basket too. He picks up a pair of heart-shaped glasses for Vil. The desire for liver pate rises in him and he doubles back to check the canned meats. Midway through his careful search, he hears the...attempt...at woo.

A sad, beautiful, nervous attempt.

Rook rises to his full height, feather on his hat dancing almost indignantly as he moves to the front of the aisle. He has half a mind to huck that can of pate hard enough to scare the boy but that would not be very beaute of him.

"Mon amie," Rook drapes his arm around the boy's neck with a disappointed sigh, "There is much to teach you in when it comes to romance."

"Like what? I--" Rook knows that's rhetorical and the guy could care less what he's going to say but he uses his uniqueness to his advantage. He launches into a small monologue about how romance is considerate and kind, not brash and unrefined like that heartfelt confession. Love is delicate like morning dew and tender like the tempting embrace of your bed seconds before you have to get up for the day. Above all, love is knowing your partner in all aspects, which includes when things have gone too far and are not welcome.

Sure, a handful of people left the store entirely but mission accomplished. The guy left shortly after Rook subtly dragged his confession. Satisfied, Rook flashed you a kind smile and unpacked his basket.

"And sometimes love wears a purple hat with a little feather." you smirk at him.

"Oh, Trickster! My heart!" Rook places his hands on his cheeks, face a pretty pink that compliments his green eyes.

---

In the spirit of Valentine's Day, Vil loosened the reigns of Pomfiore's diet for the day. Epel wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and immediately set off for Sam's. With luck, he'd still have some meats on sale. The holiday was all about fluff and pink and sweets so he wasn't worried about missing out on macarons.

To his delight, there was a selection of macarons. He was in hog heaven! If anyone heard the noise he made, it was probably the deepest and most demented thing they'd heard since Vil got his paws on him and 'refined' him. Epel was going to eat himself sick and regret it in the morning but not right now.

He picked up a second basket just for meats, afraid to crush his beloved macarons. The hamburger buns could share a basket with them, but not the meats. Knowing he had a calorie pass for the day unleashed something primal in Epel. All of a sudden he had SO MANY IDEAS.

Bacon burger? Bacon burger.

Hell, he could even make himself a little less homesick and have a traditional Harvestinian breakfast! He put a small thing of breakfast sausages in the basket. The instant grits were a bit of an insult, as was the 'heat and eat' pulled pork but the portion was reasonable and it wouldn't be money down the drain if Vil confiscated it tomorrow.

His patience begins to thin as he waits in line. The baskets are heavy but they're nothing he can't handle, growing up on a farm and all. The line doesn't seem to be moving at all! What in tarnation?, Epel squints menacingly, leaning out of line to see what the hold up was.

DID THAT NOBODY JUST ASK HOW MUCH YOU COST?!

It's clear you're uncomfortable and even MORE clear that this dude is NOT GETTING THE HINT.

As someone who's been hit on more than he cared for, this makes him mad on a whole 'nother level. You're doing all the right things--redirecting, professional body language--but this guy thinks he's going to get his way.

He's not. Everyone knows it but no one's saying anything.

Well he's gonna. What would his grandma say if he just stood by in a situation like this? He puts his hair up in a ponytail and glares at the guy.

"Were you raised in a barn? Couldn't be because EVEN ANIMALS KNOW WHEN TO LEAVE ALONE AN' GIT!" he gets louder with each word, rolling ups his sleeves. He spares his meat basket a quick glance and picks up the still-cold bacon. It's firmer than the hamburger patties and could give a decent wallop. "GO ON NOW, GIT!" Epel brandishes the bacon.

The guy is understandably confused and concerned. Probably the first time he'd been threatened with cold food. If he wasn't going for beef and bacon, he would've snagged a bag of frozen chicken wings and really wailed on the guy.

"I SAID GIT!" Epel chases him out like the dog he is, the guy narrowly dodging a bacon smack.

Word was going to get back to Vil for sure but he didn't care.

"Looks like you're going to have a good time!" you ring up the meats.

"I'm a free man today! Of course I'm gonna have a good time!"

"Have a good day, Epel. Thanks for stopping by!"

"I...I'd have a better time if you wanted to come eat some of this with me. I-I was plannin' on inviting Jack and Deuce, too. And Ace. Ace likes hamburgers. Vil lets me grill outside of Pomfiore sometimes." he starts to ramble, voice getting smaller and smaller as he goes.

"Sure! I'll grab some drinks and stuff when I get off." you smile, double-bagging the meats.

He's red as an apple when he leaves and that'll get back to Vil, too, but he doesn't care.

[esote-rika]

A bookstore meet cute I wish I could experience | Spencer Reid

Category: Fluff with S4 awkward, nerdy rizz Spencer

Warnings: use of Y/N, unedited (tenses keep shifting, sorry)

A/N: this is just 1.8k words of self indulgent self insert. Like this is inspired by some unpleasant experiences I've had talking with men about books in the past lol, and reader's responses defensive responses had been me at some point. i feel like a conversation with Spencer Reid would heal me, thus this fic. Also, save me, s4e9 Spencer Reid, save me.

He seemed like a fixture to the bookstore, if fixtures moved on their own. Or if they moved up and down the aisles with elegant fingers tracing the spines of the books on display. Or if they dressed like a rumpled professor, complete with the black rimmed glasses. He just seemed like he was part of the space, and you thought that every bookstore should probably come with one - a tall, attractive nerd who drifted all over the room like some sort of phantom. Maybe that would help with the literacy problem. It certainly would bring more people in, make them more interested in reading.

You've been trying to figure him out from afar, as subtle as you can. You're not a creep, after all, but he cuts such a lonely figure that you couldn't help but wonder if he needed some company. A part of you wonders if he's noticed you as well. This store is your late afternoon treat, after all. You come here every Friday, without fail, even when you know the inventory is unreplenished, simply to bask in the presence of books.

And then he started coming in regularly, and you had another reason to come.

You never approached him. Something about simply knowing he's there, while remaining a stranger, is thrilling. You can romanticize him if he's a stranger, project all the wholesome fantasies and book boyfriends you have upon him with no sense of accountability.

It also means you avoid the disappointment if he turns out to be another condescending know it all, eager to put you and your reading habits down because oh your tastes are so girly.

No, this was better. You're a flaneur, you tell yourself, you're here to be part of the space and observe from within, even though you doubt this is what Baudelaire had in mind when he wrote that essay and defined the term.

Still.

You smile to yourself, crouching down to check the books on the lower shelf, and also to catch a glimpse of his legs. He'd been on the other side of this shelf for the past five minutes, and you've gotten a soft chuckle when you saw his mismatched socks.

However, his lean form is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have moved to another aisle. With a small frown, you move to stand up, only to feel a tug.

“Shit,” a quick glance down reveals that a familiar looking shoe has accidentally stepped on your long skirt. You hadn't realized it billowed out around you when you knelt down.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!”

You look up and realize why the shoe looks familiar. It's him. You couldn't see him in the other aisle because he'd moved to your side, so silently you hadn't even heard him.

“Sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t notice.” He steps off quickly, and you watch as his cheeks bloom bright pink. A pink that quickly travels down his neck.

You stifle a laugh at how easily he blushed. “It's fine.” Your attempt to stand is more successful without his foot pinning the fabric of your skirt to the ground.

“I've messed up your skirt though.” He says, looking at the brown smudge left behind on the skirt.

“It's no big deal, it’ll come out.” You shrug, getting a good look at him this time. He's taller than you thought, with a sharp bone structure that's softened by large, hazel eyes and pouty lips. His hair is slicked back, curling at the nape of his neck, the color a soft brown that matches his eyes. Yeah, one of him should really come in every bookstore, you think.

“O-okay, uh, if you're sure…” He says, rubbing his hands on his pants. A nervous energy emanates from him, disrupting your idea that he's calm and tranquil.

Oh well, there goes that fantasy. Still, you wonder if maybe he's nervous because of you.

“I still feel bad though,” He adds, looking around, “Uh, how about I buy you a book for the inconvenience?”

“It's hardly an inconvenience,” You laugh, “But hey, I won't say no to a free book.”

He perks up, “Great. I'm Spencer, by the way.”

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Spencer.”

He repeats your name, and you find yourself enjoying the shape his mouth makes as he tests it out, lips and tongue wrapping around the syllables as if he wants to commit the way it feels in his memory.

You mentally kick yourself in the ass, wondering if you've read too many romance novels.

“Likewise,” He smiles, and you have to remind yourself that it's rude to stare at the lips of someone you just met. It's not your fault he has such pretty dimples, and you had the urge to count them. He continues, “So what kind of books do you like, Y/N? Romance?”

Your eyes narrow at that. You wonder how to answer. Yes? Would he judge you if you say yes? Is he one of those guys, the ones who only read heavy, intellectual books and look down on people who read fluff? Do you want to try and impress him by saying no, by scoffing and saying something like of course not I’m looking for a copy of Swann's Way by Marcel Proust? (which is the most “impressive” book you can think of at the moment). The idea seems too gross, too I'm not like other girls, and you immediately cross it out.

“And if I do?” you ask instead, surprised by the edge to your voice.

He blinks, then shrugs, looking entirely innocent. “Then we should head to the romance shelf over there.”

Once again, you're surprised. Some part of you had been expecting a smirk, maybe a roll of his eyes, that look you get when you even dare to bring up the romance genre. But, no. He starts walking to a different part of the store and you're forced to follow.

“Why did you think I read romance?” the words escape your lips before you can stop them.

He ducks behind a shelf, his hair falling down and hiding his face but you get a glimpse of the bright red skin of his neck. He's blushing again.

“Well, it's - ah - that is, I've noticed you here before, and you always seemed to hang out here in the romance section.” He says in a rush, his head still angled away from you.

You feel simultaneously called out, and a little giddy. So he's noticed you, just as much as you'd noticed him.

“So you're a stalker.” You can't help but tease.

He lets out a sound, somewhere between an indignant sputter and a scoff. “What? No! I just happen to be very observant, it's a skill I've learned to hone for my job, and you're not very hard to remember-” He cuts himself off, peeking at you with a horrified look on his face.

Laughter tumbles from your lips, and you clamp your teeth down your bottom lip to stop.

“I was teasing you.” You say, trying to fight the giggles.

He seems relieved, but the crease on his brow remains, a sign of his previous embarrassment.

“And you're right. The romance section has the biggest amount of secondhand books that I can read while I'm here.” You explain. This aisle also gives you the best view of the nonfiction section, which he frequents, therefore giving you the perfect spot to observe him over the past few weeks. Though you leave out that part.

“Ah,” He nods, looking around, “See anything you like?”

“No, I'm actually looking for a copy of The Hobbit right now.”

He lights up, “Oh, you're a fan of Tolkien too? I love him, he's such a genius and completely innovated the fantasy genre! So much so that he - wait, if you're looking for The Hobbit, why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“You just started walking.” You reply, smiling at him. He's adorable when he becomes so animated, hands waving around like his body can't contain his excitement and has to find ways to express them physically. “Had to follow you. But anyway, I'm assuming you've read The Hobbit?”

He accepts your explanation easily, then nods his head. You can't help but compare him to a puppy, so eager and nearly frantic in his excitement.

“I've read every Tolkien book.” He says, and you're surprised to find his voice contains no hint of superiority, or cockiness. Just genuine joy. It's refreshing, “Including The Silmarillion."

“Oh wow,” You laugh, aware of the reputation that tome carries, “I've only seen the Lord of The Rings movies.”

“Well that's not sufficient at all! You're missing out on so much history,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mhm, well help me find The Hobbit first, before I move on to the trilogy.” You reply, already walking over to where you know the fantasy books are.

He follows you, smiling bashfully, “You know, I have copies of all the books… I can just lend them to you, if you want.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder in surprise. “You'd let a stranger borrow your books?”

“Only if you promise to take care of them.” He says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I swear on my life, I will not tarry your precious copies of Tolkien's masterpiece.” You make a cross over your heart for emphasis, which makes him laugh. This time, you stare at his lips shamelessly, enjoying the dimples that appeared from the action.

“Okay, maybe we meet up over coffee sometime?” he asks, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I'll bring the books.”

You fight the urge to squeal. Your body refuses to contain the giddiness, and the sound compromises by coming out as a giggle.

“Yeah, sure.” you watch as he digs into his pocket, handing over a card. “Oh, how very professional.” You say playfully, accepting the slip of paper.

He ducks his head, and you see the beginnings of the blush creeping down his neck. It feels exhilarating, being able to make him blush like this.

“It's just more practical.” He mumbles.

You grab your phone quickly, typing in his number and giving it a call, so that your number goes through his as well. “I'll give you a call. But, you still owe me a book for this.” You motion at your skirt, at the stain of his footprint on the fabric.

He chuckles, “Of course. Can't go back on my promise.” he looks around the store and you're taken by the sight of him, looking like he's part of the space, like he simply belongs here. And this time, with you standing next to him, with him. “Take your pick.”

“I'm pretty indecisive.” You say playfully.

“I have time.” He smiles, and you find he has two dimples on one side of his face, and only one on the other. Your chest feels heavy with something that you can't quite put a name to yet, but you're eager for more of it.

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, kids, penetrative sex, breeding

"she’s really good with kids," roy smiles widely to his best friend, a smile that turns into a smirk when he looks over to the raven haired man. cheeks dusted pink while a stupid, love-struck grin covers his lips.

that is, until it’s not and is quickly wiped off when he feels the gaze on him and a bump to his shoulder. "don’t ya want some of your own?" the red-haired man asks, and jason rolls his eyes. "can’t stand kids, basically have some of my own with all the other shits," jason says annoyedly thinking about his one-too-many siblings that he had grown up raising alongside dick. raising kids as siblings and vigilantes has a tendency to make the average man not want children

but, he can’t help but to feel a pang in his chest when he watches you pick up roy’s baby daughter, lian, from your place in the park a little bit aways from the two men. your arms wrapping around her tiny frame as you hold her close to your chest, pointing to jason and roy while encouraging her to wave at the two men. something of a wave, more of a grabbing fist is executed as she matches the smile that you’re wearing, and jason has never thought about getting you pregnant until this very moment.

like a flick of a switch changes in him. he imagines it’s what animals feel when it's mating season; something primal and deep within him that says he needs to be the reason for a bump on your belly and he needs it to happen immediately.

"c’mon, if you get her pregnant now, lian and yours can grow up together," roy pushes more, waving to his sweet baby while doing so; contrastly speaking to jason about impregnating you like it was as normal as he made it sound. "y’know you want it, big man. plus your babies would be so fuckin’ cute," he fonds, "well, her traits would make your babies cute, i don’t know about yours," roy teases with a laugh, hitting jason’s back.

bidding a farewell to your best friend in law and his daughter, you made your way back into your home with jason following behind, locking the door and making his own way in.

"how many kids do you want?" your boyfriend asks, and it’s hard not to take you by surprise. usually these conversations stemmed from previous important conversations, or something that brought overwhelming intimacy. To say the least, this wasn’t the average conversation that’s spoken as soon as you walk in the door.

this wasn’t the type of conversation to follow spending time with your best friend.

"why’re you asking?" you question, turning on your heel with a pointed look and jason shrugs with a roll of his eyes. his keys rustle against the counter as he walks towards you, his cold hand finding yours and leading you quietly to your bedroom.

“i think you’d look good with my baby,” he says, helping you take your sweater and then shirt underneath off. gently, and without rush, like he has all the time in the world if you’re willing. raising your arms to assist the man with his task at hand, you smile teasingly, “somebody’s got baby fever ‘cause of lian, huh?” and jason scoffs with a small laugh, “something like that. also wanna continue our family if you'd like to help,” he insists with a tease while your hands now find his top, doing the same as he did to you. 

his movements are slow tonight, matching the one of two ways you find him in bed. either fucking or making love, and when the latter occurs, you find yourself relishing in every touch that feels louder than they’ve ever been. touches that are soft but with force to be intentional, kisses that are meaningful, especially the one jason presses with soft lips to the spot right under your belly button. his movements that are languid, slow, and rhythmed with every moan and word that he whispers in your ear, say in your neck after he’s kissed the skin there.

months later when he sees your swollen belly, he feels like he’s won the lottery. he feels like you're a prize he’s won and just needs to show off; realistically, he’s keeping you home as much as possible and going out with you in times of needing outside air. your lower back hurts? he’s watched youtube tutorials on massage techniques that help during pregnancy. you have a strange craving? jason’s running out at midnight to get precisely what you’re crazing. oh, your tits are sore after you’ve finally delivered your baby? there’s nothing to worry about when jason asks a quick, “you want my hands or my mouth?”

[thatonetargaryen]

My Tears Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Part One of: Our Tears Ricochet

Synopsis: You and Ambessa have been married for nearly two decades—and your love was one many people could only dream of achieving. But when your wife leaves overseas to visit her daughter, you strained relationship finally reaches it’s peak.

cw; afab!reader; angst ; infidelity ; local cuisine makes an appearance ; suggestive behavior ; Ambessa being a bad wife

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for the prompt. I hope you like it :). Might do ‘Pretty In Pink’ one next.

……

The warm ocean breeze flowed through your (h/c) hair as you gazed upon the horizon. The ship slightly rocked side to side, and you knew you were bond to get seasick soon.

You were currently on your way to visit your wife—the formidable General Ambessa Medarda. She had recently took leave from Noxus to come to Piltover, though her reasons were scattered. You two shared a constant stream of letters back and forth, and she told you how the journey went and her rants of disgust towards the council. Sometimes that’s all she wrote to you about. You didn’t mind. What you did mind—however—was when the letters stopped coming.

It started off small—you wrote one letter to her and didn’t get a reply. Simply shrugging it off and saying to yourself ‘maybe it got lost in the mail’, you sent another….and another…and another. It didn’t take long for you to suspect something.

Piltover was as greedy as they are unpredictable. While you doubt they would’ve done anything to Ambessa (considering they would lose much,much more than they’d gain), you wouldn’t take any chances. Anything could’ve happened.

She could’ve fallen ill—or worse. At first the thought of it simply slipping her mind was there, but it quickly vanished. Ambessa was never one to let anything associated with you slip her mind.

What really set your suspensions high was when her daughter, Mel Medarda—who you had a close relationship with for most of her life, one you cherished—replied to a letter you sent asking about Ambessa.

‘You should come see for yourself.’

The sentence left you in a state of confusion—but also reassurance. Ambessa was fine, but….something was wrong. It wasn’t how your wife doing….

It was what your wife was doing.

……

The ship finally arrived at the docks of Piltover. The few servants and guards that were aboard the ship disembark and helped you unload the few bags you brought with you.

You looked around—searching for Ambessa. You had sent a letter saying you were worried for her and would sail there, but you knew she hadn’t gotten it.

Instead, you were met with the council member and your lovely step-daughter—Mel.

She smiled as you approached. It had been a while seen you’d seen each other, and she towered over you. You engulfed her in a big, warm hug—one that she seemed to desperately need.

“Oh, Mel…”, you said into her shoulder.

“Mother…”, she whispered back. She had gave you the title years ago, yet sometimes, you still felt you didn’t deserve it.

The two of you shared a moment of silence, taking in each other. Her gaze was soft and warm, yet pity lied beneath it.

You smiled and held onto her shoulders. “Mel, look how much you’ve grown!”

She laughed, “Wish I could say the same for you.”, she said as she gazed down at your shorter frame.

You bumped your hip against yours as you two intertwined your arms. “I stopped growing many, many years ago. It’s something I’ve came to peace with.”

The two of you continued to talk as your servants and guards trailed you with your few belongings. You commented on the things you saw, asked Mel how her position as a councilwoman was, and who her new boy-toy was all about. She visibly cringed when you brought him up. Though, she would’ve dwelled more on that topic than the one involving the whole reason you came here.

“What’s going on with your mother?”, you finally asked.

Mel looked around, now slightly uncomfortable. She replied to you with a simple “Hm” as the two of you continued walking. You halted her in her tracks.

“Hm? Really? Your mother’s acting weird..and now you too?”

She bit the inside of her mouth before she sighed, now fully facing you. “Did you notice anything strange before she left?”

You were taken aback by her question, but after a moment of thinking , you answered, “Well, she has been quite distant as of late. But, you know how she can get. And she hasn’t been reply to the letters I’ve sent her.”

Mel looked at you as if she had solved a puzzle—the thoughts connecting in her mind. But there wasn’t an ounce of celebration on her face. She grabbed both of your hands, contemplating what to say next. “I’ll take you to see her. She’s not far from here.”

You looked at Mel in confusion, while she took you softly by the hand and led you towards Ambessa.

The rest of the walk was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

……

You arrived at a beautiful building. While the sight of it was breathtaking—it was as just as plain as the rest of Piltover.

Mel nodded towards the entrance. “She’s in there”, she whispered.

You nodded, and signaled for your servants and guards to wait here. You hiked your skirt and began to ascend up the white stairs. You spared one more glance in Mel’s direction, and found her speaking with your servants and guards. Your excitement was uncontrollable as you got closer and closer to the entrance. You hadn’t seen your wife in weeks—and the things you wanted to do to her were unspeakable. You bit your bottom lip just thinking about it.

For a moment, you could hear was sounded like men’s laughter. You brushed it off, until you heard it again—though this time it was muffled.

What had taken you aback the most—however—was the sound of your wife’s deep, low breaths. The ones she made when she…

No.

After an eternity, you reached the top of the stairs. And it took everything in you not to scream right then and there.

There Ambessa was, her back turned to you as she sat upon a large, lavish couch. From where you stood, you could see her the coils of her grey hair fall on her shoulders as she laid back. Sat perched on her lap was a man—with fiery auburn hair and pale skin. He was petite and charming—almost like a woman. His lips were full as he licked them and his green hungry eyes raked over your wife’s frame.

Her honey-kissed hands roamed his body in ways only she had promised to touch you in. You felt a mix of emotions all at once at the sight. Anger, resentment, confusion, surprise, sadness. You wanted to scream and shout. Every painting and vase in the room didn’t know how much you wanted to break it.

But instead of doing any of that, you simply whispered her name.

“Ambessa?”

The man’s eyes shot open as he suddenly looked towards you. Embarrassment and surprise was evident on his face, but he made no move to get off Ambessa’s lap.

Your wife finally turned around to catch your eye, and you’d never seen her looked so surprised. Looking her in the eye was your breaking point as you rushed out the room, hot tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N!”, she called out your name, but to no avail. She moved to get up, but noticed the twink still on her lap.

“Get off me, you fool!”, she roughly pushed him off. He fell to the floor with a thud and stared at Ambessa’s frame as she raced out the room. The wine was long gone—now spilled across the once white pristine floor.

“Wait! Y/N!”, she called out once again. She looked around frantically, and noticed some of her guards stationed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Stop her!”, she commanded, but they ignored her as they ushered you into a car.

Mel closed the door just as her mother was about to approach. She pulled on the handle, only to find it locked.

She stopped to look inside the glass, and found the last person she was expecting—Mel. She looked at her mother sternly in disappointment through the glass. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy. She simply shook her head. With a wave of her hand, the car was off.

Ambessa stood there dumbfounded, angry, and regretful.

[kitkatkitzune]

PETALS

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!reader

Summary: You love flowers and you love Jace, it’s a shame you’ll die because of them.

Warnings: Targcest, My version of hanakaki disease, ANGST, Implied suicide, Blood, Jace feeling guilty as fuck, Potentially OOC!Daemon, Inaccurate historical depictions, Inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in

Notes: This is NOT Baela hate!! I love her!! 

Surprise, this is the show I ended up watching and I think I may write something for it every once in a while!

Word Count: 3.7k

———————

Aegon always felt that he had been cursed with strange sisters, his wife, Helaena, was obsessed with bugs and all other small insects. Then there was you, ever since you were a young girl you had been fascinated by nature. If you were missing the first place anyone would check was the gardens because more often than not that is where you were.

You’d hum to yourself, plucking away weeds, something your mother would shun you for.

"We have groundskeepers for a reason, Y/N,” she’d say, clicking her tongue.

You never listened though, and after a while she gave up on trying to stop you. At least Helaena hid her quirks inside the castle, you were always outside for anyone to see. You never knew why but you always felt connected to nature, even going as far to scold your guard when he’d stand on certain parts of the grass.

You loved Rhaenyra, you held a lot of respect for her even as a child. You were just a babe when Jace was born but when Luke was, even though you were still quite young, you brought her daisies from the gardens. Years later when Joffery would be born, you brought her baby’s breath.

Unlike Aemond and Aegon, Rhaenyra’s children’s brown hair never bothered you. In fact, you grew quite close with Lucerys and Jacaerys. Luke gained more respect towards nature each time he spoke with you and Jace, Jace found you fascinating. When he wasn’t training with a blade, he would find you in the gardens. He could listen to you ramble on for hours on end about the different flowers and their meanings.

“The daisies remind me of Luke…” you‘d hum, twirling a flower in your hands.

“And what of me, princess?”

You chew your lip, tilting your head in thought before abruptly standing up, “Come, I’ll show you!”

You dash further into the gardens with Jace chasing after you as you giggle. Eventually, you come to a stop in front of bunches of carnations.

“You remind me of the carnations… the red ones represent your strength and determination, the pink your loyalty, and the white your kindness…”

Jace hums, a smile appearing on his face, “They’re very pretty…”

You decide it best to not tell him that carnations often represent love.

“I’d also say that the hyacinths are similar to you… playful and bold… only the red ones though…”

He tilts his head, “And why only the red?”

The smile on your face wavers a bit, “The purple ones are an apology… to represent regret or guilt. They show grief.”

Everyone was gathered at Driftmark for Laela’s funeral. You had picked flowers, forget-me-nots, giving them to Baela and Rhaena as a way to show your sympathy to them. You didn’t miss the way Jace and Baela had their hands clasped together, and you could have sworn you felt your throat close up at the sight.

Later that night, you were shaken awake by Jace and the other children, alerting you that Vhagar had been stolen. When you all went to investigate, you found Aemond atop of Vhagar, landing on the ground. He swiftly dismounted the dragon, boasting about how it is now his. This enraged Baela, after all, Vhagar was her mothers dragon and the beast should have been her sisters to claim but Aemond had gone behind their backs before Rhaena was even granted a chance.

Chaos erupted as Aemond shoved Baela to the ground, you rushed to scold your brother but he only yelled at you, shoving you to the ground as well. You could feel the palms of your hand split open. Jace flipped his blade in his hand, ready to attack but it was flung away from him, landing near Luke.

It was sudden, Jace managed to toss some dirt into Aemonds face, temporality blinding him, and it gave Luke the chance to attack him with the blade. Your brother's ear piercing scream filled the space, blood dripping from his eye as the guards finally came running. All of you were gathered as one of the maesters tended to Aemond’s wound. And when your mother was informed that the eye would never heal - she was enraged.

Alicent demanded that they take one of Luke’s eyes and when the king refused, she tried to attack Rhaenyra, managing to slice open the woman’s hand. That night would be one of the last times you’d see the Velaryon boys for a long time, the family decided it was best that they travel to live on Dragonstone.

The day you said goodbye to Jace was the first day you coughed up a petal, through your tears, you could tell it was from a carnation.

You were able to keep it hidden for about six days before your mother found out. She noticed the blood on the sleeve of your gown and immediately questioned you about it. At first she had thought you had gotten your blood moon and had been messy about it but you quickly broke down and told her about the flowers.

She took you to the maesters instantly, watching as he examined and questioned you. She paced around the room anxiously, picking and biting at her nails just like she used to do as a child. A habit that she thought she managed to shake but clearly not.

The maester finally turned to look at Alicent, “Your grace… I have never seen such a thing… I’ve only ever read of it and have heard a few tales..”

“What is it?” Alicent asks quickly, making her way to you from across the room.

She brushes your hair from your face gently, and the maester sighs, “Rūklon ānogar… flower blood… it’s a disease, a curse… it’s a trick of nature… the princess is not loved by who she desires and nature is punishing her for it.”

Your mother looks horrified, “Who she desires? What… What kind of illness does that?! Will it go away with time?”

“I’m afraid not…the princess, she will die from this… I’ve read about a paste once before that could dull the symptoms, but there is no evidence of a long term solution… perhaps it is possible to survive off of the paste but I… we truly do not know.”

“A paste?!” Alicent raises her voice slightly, “My daughter is coughing up flowers, potentially dying and you offer me a mere paste that may save her, a paste that may not even work?!”

“Mother…” you pull at her sleeve, causing her attention to shift back to you. Her gaze softens at the sight of your blood stained lips.

“Yes, my dear?”

“It is… the only option,” you nudge your head towards the maester, “He would know…”

Alicent sighs at your words and turns her flaming gaze to the maester, “Get the paste, quickly.”

“Your grace,” he bows his head before scurrying off.

Your mother sits down on the bed beside you, pulling you to her arms, “It’s that…” she swallows harshly, deciding that it wouldn’t be fit for her to say bastard boy, “…Jacaerys, isn’t it?”

“Mother…” you mumble and she shushes you.

“No one will know of this, you are simply ill and that is why you are away, do you understand? No one can know of this, not even your brothers or sister, not even your father…”

“I understand…”

“Good,” she says then suddenly sighs, “This is my fault, I should have just let you marry the bas- boy. The boy.”

You shake your head a bit, “That… would not make him love me.”

And you were right, because off in her chambers, Helaena sits, stitching away at a quilt, mumbling to herself, “The flowers are wilting…”

Everyday, the paste would be mixed into your food and to the maesters credit, it did work. Although it made you feel near nothing, which was to be expected. You no longer sat smiling in the gardens, you would sit with a dull look on your face. Your mother tried to get you to act like your old self but it seemed impossible. But it didn’t really matter to her, as long as you were alive and preforming your duties as princess she was happy.

The point is, the paste worked for years with “minimal” issues, until he came back to King's Landing.

You were not there to greet them when they had arrived, he was a bit upset at the lack of your presence but assumed that since you were older now, you had more duties to tend to. Or perhaps your mother had forbidden you from greeting them. Jace guessed you would find him after but you never did, so he went looking for you but it seemed as though you were nowhere. The first time he would see you, would be at the large family dinner that the King wanted.

You were seated next to your grandsire, Otto and your brother, Aemond, staring at the table, praying the ground would swallow you whole. You hadn’t just been avoiding Jace either. You were avoiding the whole family, Lucerys, Rhaenyra, Baela, Rhaena, and Daemon. Baela and Rhaena were your friends at one point and Lucerys always looked up to you. Rhaenyra had been a role model for you and Daemon… well, he was Daemon.

Being here, with them, was painful. Almost as painful as the stems growing in your lungs. The paste was no longer working, that much was clear. Whether it had something to do with Jace’s sudden appearance or simply the disease fighting back, you had no clue.

“This is an occasion for celebration it seems…” your father announces, “My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena…”

The King continued on, but you were no longer listening, your gaze had snapped up from the table to focus on Jace and Baela. The way he looked at her and the way she looked at him. It was the same way you always looked at Jace, only he never returned that look. Your throat seemed to close up a bit and you had to fight away the urge to cough. You dug your nails into the handles or your chair, hoping to ground yourself in some way. Aemond, ever the perceptive one glances towards you, narrowing his eye, trying to read you but you ignore him.

It’s then that you can faintly hear Aegon's teasing voice as he leans over to whisper at Jace, “…You’ll finally get to lie with a woman… You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that.”

“You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed.”

his betrothed.

You try to subtly clear your throat to relieve some of the pain but it is no use, you quickly grab your napkin and begin to cough into it, gaining the attention of everyone around the table. Rather reluctantly, Otto begins to pat at your back. Alicent begins to chew at her nails, quickly catching herself and holding her hands firmly in her lap.

“Are you all right, sister?” Aemond asks, taking a sip of his wine, it was obvious in his tone that he held no real concern for you and was only asking out of duty.

Carefully, you pull the cloth from your mouth, holding it tightly in your lap, “Yes…” you breathe out, relieved that you still have your voice.

The room has gone silent now and Daemon glances between Alicent and you as though he’s piecing a puzzle together. During the silence, Luke realizes this is the first time you’ve spoken since they’ve arrived, your voice sounds different, more matured and older… but most of all, scared.

“The flowers are wilting…” Helaena mumbles softly.

Neither Jace nor Luke would be able to speak with you that night because the second King Viserys’ speech was over, your mother had a guard escort you back to your chambers, claiming that you were ill and not feeling well. This only raised Daemon’s suspicions.

When the King died and your brother was crowned, you made the decision to flee from King’s Landing with Rhaenys with only the clothing on your back. You knew it was a stupid decision and you knew that your condition would only worsen, especially now without the paste, especially if you were to be constantly around him. But it did not matter to you, you refused to be on the wrong side of the war, even if it meant you would die sooner rather than later.

You were able to hide your sickness for less than one moon before you were unable to any longer. You were just lucky it had not happened during one of the council meetings, you were sure you’d be accused of bringing some sort of the plague with you. None of the men on Rhaenyra’s council seemed to trust you, but that wasn’t saying much considering it hardly seemed like they trusted her.

It had happened in your private chambers while one of the servant girls, Beth, was helping you out of your day clothing and into a night dress. You began to cough, unable to stop it as Beth fawned all over you, trying to help in any way. Your airway became even more restricted as you coughed, blood and petals falling to the ground in front of you when you could no longer stand. Then finally, you coughed up an entire carnation, stem and all.

The poor serving girl began to scream, rushing out into the hallway to yell for help. It was pure coincidence that Jace and Baela had been walking down the hall. Baela and the serving girl ran to find Rhaenyra, Daemon and a maester while Jace attempted to help you from the ground. But the second his hands touch your skin, it felt as though you’d been pricked by thorns. You shoved him from you, sinking further to the floor.

“Do not touch me…” you manage to hiss out.

“Y/N—“ Jace tries once more but you push his hands away, crawling across the floor to your bed.

Baela and Beth returned just as you began to pull yourself to your bed, all while begging Jace to not touch you. They were not alone when they returned, they had brought the Queen and King as well as the maester.

Jacaerys watches you with concern as Baela approaches him, placing a comforting hand on his arm which only makes you begin to cough more. Rhaenyra seems concerned that it is contagious and you could not blame her, perhaps she thought you were ill like your father.

But Daemon immediately silenced those thoughts when he picked up the flower from the ground, spinning it in his fingers, admiring the blood that coated his fingers.

“Rūklon ānogar,” he breathes out.

Everyone looks to him, while he still keeps his gaze focused on you, watching as you tense up at the mention of the fatal disease.

“Flower blood…” he clarifies.

“Rūklon ānogar? Flower blood?” Rhaenyra echoes, “That’s impossible, it’s not real.”

“Clearly it is…” you mumble quietly, allowing your head to fall back against the headboard.

“How long…?” Rhaenyra begins to ask but is cut off by her husband.

“Since before she came to Dragonstone, I suspect much long before.”

You nod, ”Years…”

Jace’s eyes narrow, a bit of anger flaring within him, “You came here, knowing of your illness?!”

“Relax,” Daemon says, “She’s not contagious… she is going to die though. Terribly. Painfully.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you glare at him.

“My question is how are you still alive if it’s been years,” Daemon takes a step forward, finally dropping the flower in his hand, “you should be dead.”

“A paste…”

“A paste?” he asks, almost mockingly.

It is then that the maester cuts in, “It was believed that a paste could… prevent symptoms…delay death…”

“Then get her the paste,” Baela cuts in.

Oh how you wished you could hate Baela, it would be so much easier if she was awful but she wasn’t. And you knew none of this was her fault, just as none of it was Jace’s.

“It is not that simple, my lady,” the maester begins, “The ingredients needed for such a thing are very hard to come by… we do not have such things here.”

“Then we try King’s Landing,” Jace offers, causing Daemon to scoff.

You shake your head, “No… they wouldn’t.”

“Your mother is there! Your brothers! Your family!” Jace argues.

“They’re no family of mine!” you manage to shout, immediately doubling over on yourself, coughing.

Rhaenyra begins to pat at your back, the feeling was much more comforting than when Otto had done it, “Sweet girl…” she mumbles quietly.

“Tell me,” she asks softly, offering you a goblet of water that Beth had gotten, “Why risk yourself? Why come here knowing we could not provide for you?”

“Because…” your voice cracks as you pull away from Rhaenyra, “I refuse to die on the wrong side of this war… just as I refuse to die in this bed…”

You begin to try and force yourself out of the bed but quickly realize that you are much weaker than you were just moments before. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying again but once again, you fail.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your back and another hooking under your knees. When you open your eyes you realize you’re being held by Daemon, you allow your head to fall against his chest as he begins to carry you out of the room, already knowing where it is you wish to go.

You can’t help but overhear the hushed conversation between Baela, Rhaenyra, and Jace as they follow behind.

“What kind of sickness does this, your grace?” Baela asks quietly.

“A cruel one,” Rhaenyra answers with a grim look on her face.

Jace frowns, “I don’t understand, flowers? Why? What causes such a thing?”

Finally, Rhaenyra sighs, “Love, my boy, love.”

“Love causes that?” Baela asks, astounded.

“The unrequited kind…”

“Unrequited love? Who would be fool enough to not love Y/N?” Jace asks, making Rhaenyra shake her head.

“I think you know.”

Daemon sets you down carefully in the gardens before stepping away just as the others make their way into the gardens. Jace seems to be storming towards you, determined to speak with you before your inevitable death. Daemon makes a swift exit, taking Rhaenyra and Baela with him, allowing the two of you a moment to talk.

You choose to ignore Jace, just as you had done before, running your hand along one of the beautiful flowers that only grows on Dragonstone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jace asks.

You hum, “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“I, yes, it would’ve! I- I could have loved you… it did not have to come to this.”

You sigh, pulling your hand away from the plant, turning to face him, you bring your hand up to his cheek, once again feeling as though thorns are going through your skin, “You can not make yourself love, Jace.”

“But I do love you, I do… I…”

You smile, softly, “Just not as I love you.”

“I am so sorry, Y/N…”

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Jacaerys, this is not your fault.”

He shoves your hand from his face, tears glimmering in his eyes, “How can you say that?! You should be cursing me! You will die, you understand that right?! You should hate me!”

“I could never hate you.”

He begins to pace, running his hands through his hair, making you sigh, “Jace, it is okay, really.”

“You shouldn’t be saying that, no, no, I should be saying that to you! I should be the one—“

“I accepted this a long time ago, and I need you to listen to me… please,” you pat the ground next to you and Jace sits down after hovering for a moment, “I am not a dragon rider Jace, I do not want a dragon's funeral… I want… I want to be buried somewhere like here, in the gardens, let my body be the nutrients needed for the flowers to bloom.”

Jace only stares at you, committing every aspect of your face to his memory. Because there were no portraits of ‘Y/N Targaryen’ on Dragonstone, and it was too late for one to be made. The only portraits of you resided in King’s Landing but if he knew Aemond, he knew that the one-eyed man would have already destroyed them all, removing you from history. This would be the last time he’d see you, and he knew that over time his memory would fade until you were just a name without a face.

You call his name, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Okay,” he says, shaking, “I will… make sure of it.”

The two of you sat in silence in the gardens until you asked to say your goodbyes to everyone else before finally you asking to be alone. It was only then that you began to play with the dagger you had stolen from Daemon while he had been carrying you.

And in his and Rhaenyra’s shared chambers, Daemon looks in the mirror at the empty slot on his belt where his dagger once was. He would have panicked, but fortunately he knew exactly where the weapon was and who held it.

It was no surprise to anyone when they found your body in the gardens the next morning. What was surprising was Prince Jacaerys expressing your desire to not have a dragon rider's funeral. So it was then settled, you would be buried where you had died.

Jace brought you flowers, placing them on top of the fresh soil. Bunches of purple hyacinths, something that his family would not understand but it did not matter because you would and so would he.

Even dead, the flowers in your lungs bloomed, they ripped through your organs, cracking through your bones until finally piercing through your skin into the dirt. Eventually sprouting into a beautiful bunch of carnations. 

Even in death you still loved the flowers. Even in death you still loved him.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆ 

Chapter 4, Raw, next question

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8 k

Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Here we go babes! I hope ya'll like it. I am going to be very busy this weekend and part of next week, so I'll leave ya'll with this for the upcoming few days. Lots of love <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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It's not like you to forget about watching a Red Crow video, but it totally slipped your mind after Tara started suggesting different single guys to you. Seems like she's known Sylus for a while and isn't stoked about the idea of you liking him. For some reason, that gets you going even more. 

Sure, could be that he is a disturbed individual, but you figure it has more to do with his cold demeanor. It almost sounded like she was talking you out of talking to him again after her offer to give him your number. Almost like she suddenly remembered something. Could it be that she also knows about what he does? If that's the case, she's less innocent that you thought she was. 

Either way, she kept you busy until there was a knock at the door and you realized it was already 2 am. No wonder you had been getting sleepy. 'I'll get it,' you offer, you brain fried once more but this time the sleepiness is to blame. Tara giggles in response. 

You expected Kieran to come knocking so that Tara could drive him home. Instead, Sylus leans over you once more when you open the door, one hand on the top of the doorframe the other in his pocket. He's incredibly close, closer than one normally is when knocking on someone's door. Is he doing this on purpose?  

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hang around him like a cloud, mixing in with his cologne to create the most intoxicating smell you've ever smelled. His shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it was before and there's a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You figure he's drunk or close to drunk. 

But then he speaks, and he sounds stone cold sober: 'Hey, can you tell Tara Kieran is sleeping over. He is in no state to move.' 

'What happened to “taking it easy”,' Tara shouts from the couch. Sylus stands up a little straighter, removing his hand from the doorframe, and looking over top of me to Tara on the couch. He grins slyly. 

'Nothing we haven't done before.' She hops off the couch and rushes over, looking slightly agitated. 

'Sylus, that can refer anywhere from a gross shot to LSD,' she snaps at him. He leans down over her like he just had with me. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and it almost looks like her hair is puffing up like an angry cat. Suddenly, you understand why she might've wanted to curb your interest in Sylus but the teasing tone that slips from his lips so easily gets you fucking going. Without really noticing it, you bite your lip for no more than a second while your thighs rub together. 

He notices though. His eyes flicker over to you for just a second and his grin widens ever so slightly. 'No drugs. I quit that stuff. He's just very drunk.' Tara groans. 'You can check if you want.' 

'I will,' she snaps as she pushes past the two of you and quickly disappears into Sylus’ apartment. 

And suddenly, you are harshly reminded what happened the last time you and Sylus were alone. Reminded of that video that you still haven't fully watched. The first few seconds are engraved in your memory. Sylus, completely dressed with his hand slowly rubbing over the tent in his pants, low groans leaving his lips. 

When you look up at him again, you swear he knows exactly what's going on in your mind. There's that sly grin on his lips again. 'Having a fun night?' 

'Oh, fuck you,' you groan, and feel yourself puff up like Tara had as you cross your arms with an annoyed expression on your face. If he knows, you might as well cuss him out for it. He deserves as much, and he seems to like it as a rich laugh slips from his lips. 

He leans even closer, still towering over you with his eyes focused on yours. You feel your cheeks and ears heat up like you've just shoved your head against a space heather. 'You know who I am,' he states. You can almost feel your attitude melt like snow thrown on a fire as you nod.  

'You know what I do,' his voice is gravely, low, seductive. He's enjoying this. You nod again. No more snow, only fire. Fire in your loins and in your fucking ovaries. You are going to burst. He moves in even closer. 

'Use your words, sweetie.' One of his two signature pet names for his audience. Your panties are soaked, your blood is boiling, and your attitude is back. Because, if he keeps this going, you two will be down and dirty right here in your doorway. Ain't no way you're letting Tara see you in that state. 

'Back the fuck up before I jump your bones.' Maybe you should've just said the first part. His confidence wafers for a second before he realizes what you mean. He’s even closer now, his lips next to your ear, voice barely above a whisper. 

'Did you like what you did to me?' 

'Kieran is passed out,' Tara loudly announces before peaking her head around the corner. Before she can, Sylus moves back and crosses his arms, looking like he's bored out of his mind while you are bright red in the face. 'Sylus, help me get him in the car. We have plans tomorrow.' 

'Yes ma’am.' 

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3 am. The world outside is quiet, just like Sylus likes it. Kieran was a real pain to get in the car but at least he gets to listen to some records on his own now. Luke had left long before but Kieran always sticks. Sylus can only hope he'll be awake enough to walk into Tara's apartment when they get there. 

Today had been interesting to say the least. He hasn't been this risky in a long time, teasing someone who clearly knows who he is. Could be a very awkward situation in the future if she ever grows over her lust for him, but for now he's fine. This could be a fun little game between the two of them. No one else needs to know, but what if he just films his content after he's seen her. Like how he did today. 

Short conversation, make a video wearing what she saw him in, turn her on so he can listen to her sweet little moans pierce through the thin walls. He does need to keep his schedule though, otherwise it'd be too suspicious. On the other hand, no one would complain about an extra video occasionally. 

The soft thud of the needle bumping off his record pulls Sylus out of his trance. The room is suddenly awfully silent. Then, he hears it. 

The softest of whimpers. 

He turns off the record player and walks into his room curiously. The sound is coming from the air extractor fan in the bathroom, just as it had this afternoon. The shower isn't running and your noises sound farther away, so it's possible that you're in your bedroom with the bathroom door open. 

"Is she doing this on purpose," Sylus questions as he stands in the middle of his bathroom, listening to the sounds you make while his dick starts to strain against his pants. "Would she hear it if I did the same thing?" 

His curiosity quickly gets the better of him. Just for good measure, he quickly sets up his phone to record on top of the toilet reservoir and presses record. Then, he moves to lean against the sink cabinet, his head thrown back as he rubs over the fabric of his pants, just as he had this afternoon. 

He hears a particularly lewd moan and prays to the gods above his phone picked the sound up. His hand moves to his zipper and he undoes himself skillfully and fast. He takes his dick out of his boxers, not bothering to take his pants off. It's hard as a fucking rock and already leaking with just those little sounds. 

"What is this woman doing to me?"  

Lazily, he starts stroking his dick. Soft groans and moans slipping from his lips, suppressed in an attempt to still hear you through the vents. Then the prettiest picture slips into his mind. 

You, laying on your back in his bed, naked. Heels planted on his mattress, legs spread, hands lazily pulling on the hair on the back of his head. That beautiful blush on your cheeks, looking desperate and longing for release while he drives his length into you. The little sounds you make, so much louder when he's this close, so much more beautiful. Your eyes focused on him and only him. 

His hand starts moving faster, chocking his dick ever so slightly while his other hand grips the sink, knuckles turning white. An animalistic sound leaves his throat, a sound he's never made before. Something like a chocked growl. 

God, that image. He'd lean in closer, wrap his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders while your nails leave trails on his back. One of his hands would leave your body, move to your little bud of nerves to help you reach ecstasy. 

Another growl leaves his throat, louder this time. He's getting so close after so little time. Is this really all because of you? Because some pretty girl showed interest in him? He's not sure, but the picture in his mind keeps getting more and more realistic. His eyes screw closed, head leaning forward now, his breathing heavy. 

He'd sit down on his heels, pull you onto his lap and hold you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. Your pretty little moans would get louder, would morph into his name so beautifully strewn out on your tongue, barely recognizable to anyone but him. And you'd bite his collarbone. The pain and pleasure of the whole thing tipping him over the edge, his hands bruising your skin, serving you the same mixture to help you fall into the abyss with him. 

Hot ropes of cum lay on the tiles in front of Sylus while he tries to catch his breath. He doesn't hear your voice anymore, so you must be done as well. 

"What the hell just happened?" 

He steadies himself and grabs his phone from the toilet reservoir, stopping the recording. Before he can throw the thing to the side again, he gets a notification on his video from this afternoon. When he opens it, the name and profile picture look awfully familiar. It's you, there's no denying it. His lips pull into a grin when he reads your comment. 

"Raw, next question." 

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[jeepers-creeperz]

Picture You

George Weasley x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+ Hogwarts University AU, Early 20s

Warnings: Slight plot but mainly porn, PinV, Unprotected Penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), semi-public sex (gryffindor common room), choking

Loosely based off of Picture You by Chappell Roan

word count: 2.6k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ .

The loud buzz of the usually busy Gryffindor common room had finally come to a soothing hush. There you were, sat across from your best friend in the entire world, George Weasley.

The room had emptied and had left you and your fire hair colored friend to your own devices. A comfortable stillness in the air as the fire crackled and room glowed a soft orange. “What say you, Y/L/N? You ready to turn in?” Asked George, a slight mischievous glint in his eye. You thought to yourself before narrowing your eyes at him

“Why Weasley? Got something special in mind?”

He shrugged before patting the seat next to him on the couch. You let out a low groan before obliging. You took the spot next to him and nudged his shoulder with your own.

“Not planning to play a trick on me are you?” You asked, mostly joking.

“No, no. Just-“ his thoughts trailed off.

“Just?” You raised your brow.

“Do I need a reason to wanting you to sit next to me?” He mocked your raised brow before smiling at you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his warm smile. The smile you adored more than anything in the world. But you were determined to keep that your little secret. You laughed and shoved his face away as he shared your sentiment in the laughter.

“Come on. You love me. Just admit it.”

Your only response being a swift eye roll and flicking him off. “In your dreams, Weasley.” This response seemed to peak his interest.

“In my dreams, yeah? What makes you so sure you roam about in my dreams?” He poked fun as you shook your head.

“Unless of course I show up in yours and you’re just dying to know if you show up in mine.” He continued, which only made you roll your eyes again. He laughed and poked your side.

“Oy!” You called out giggling.

“Go on then. Tell me about these dreams.” George encouraged, smirking down at you.

You could feel your cheeks heating up into a light pink, trying to your hardest to mask it by turning away from him.

“I hit a soft spot?” He teased.

“Oh come off it, Georgie. As if you would show up in any of my dreams as anything other than the pesky git that you are.”

He licked his lips before leaning in towards your ear. “Least I’m showing up.” He whispered.

You felt chill run down your spine and you closed your eyes, taking in every bit of his warm scent that felt like it was completely enveloping every bit of your senses as it washed over you. You opened your eyes and tilted your head in his direction a bit before he leaned back into his previous position. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and crossed your arms as you looked up at him.

Truthfully, he showed up in every single one of your dreams. He was in each and every fantasy, every single day dream. Every inch of him was exposed in the deepest parts of your brain. He was your best friend, but he was also your every desire. If you weren’t sane, there would be lipstick stains on your mirror in the place where he should be. You wanted him. No, in fact. You needed him. Craved every morsel of his being.

“What about you, huh?” You tapped his leg. He shrugged his shoulders before placing his arm behind you, resting it on top of the couch.

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Oh yeah?”

“mmm.” he nodded.

“What about?” you egged on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Little bit of this, little bit of that.” he trailed off.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Elaborate please, sir.” There’s no way his dreams were even in the same realm as yours. You knew where you stood with him and that was deeply in the friend zone.

“Go on, tell me, Weasley. Am I in a mini skirt doing research in the library? Or maybe I’m mixing potions in nothing but my robes. Go ���head tell me your all perversions.” You joked, wiggling your eyebrows.

He didn’t laugh. He only stared at you with a glint in his eyes that you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t do anything but stare back up at his gaze like a deer caught in white bright headlights.

“Something like that.” He said barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widened. Now you really looked helpless.

“W-what?”

He took a deep breath through his nose and faced away at the fire before turning back to you, running a hand through his hair.

“Did I stutter?”

You felt a familiar heat between your thighs and bit the inside of your cheek, furrowing your brows whilst looking down at your feet. Did he just confess to having dirty dreams about you? No, definitely not. You were misconstruing it. Your his best friend and he didn’t think about you that way.

You were taken out of your inner monologue by George whispering your name. You looked up at him slowly, your mind completely failing you from retorting one of your witty comebacks. Instead, you decided that maybe you should be as bold in your actions as he was in his confession.

You brought your legs up to your chest before shifting your weight and kneeling onto the couch, then moving to straddle George’s lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders. George clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, his eyes slowly trailing from your lips to your eyes. Both of your breathing was rapid as you entered new territory. He placed his hands on your thighs before moving them up to rest on your lower back.

Next thing you knew, you were leaning in. Your body completely taking over, ignoring every scream from your brain to stop. To not ruin your most precious friendship. But you couldn’t stop. Not Now. Not with him between your legs and the fire light hitting his features, accentuating every bit of his beautiful face. You were intoxicated. George was leaning in as well. He rubbed your noses together, savoring every second of what could be your final moments of dear friendship.

He connected your lips together in a hunger that felt like he had been waiting for years to do. You knit your brows together and moved your hands, now tugging at his red locks, earning you a hum from George against your lips. You did it again.

He couldn’t help himself, he caressed from your lower back to your ass, now fully groping you. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth and he took full advantage. He slid his tongue into your mouth, your tongues now dancing together in a heated tango. You quickly moved your hands to undo his tie, discarding it somewhere to the side of the couch. Afterwards, You them to his shirt and fiddling with the buttons to get them open. He chuckled.

“Eager are we?” He asked, not removing his mouth from yours.

“Oh, shut up.” You whispered as you deepened the kiss, as if it was even possible.

You finally got his buttons undone, removing the garment from his shoulders. George decided he had had enough of letting you take charge of the moment, however. He lifted you up and laid your back against the couch, now absolutely towering over you. You were incredibly smitten of him from this view. He made himself comfortable in between your legs again, returning to the kiss.

What you didn’t know, was that he wanted you from the moment he met you. You were like a constant gnawing at his brain that he didn’t want to get rid of. He pictured you naked every night. Got off to it to help him sleep hoping that you’d return just as that in his dreams, always too afraid to say it out loud.

George settled his hips down, his now hard cock grazing perfectly against where you needed him most, earning him another moan from you. “Saints, Georgie- Need you. Please.”

He smiled against your lips before pulling away.

“Not so fast, pretty. I didn’t spend years picturing this just for it to end so swiftly, now, did I?”

Your head was reeling. You were so completely shocked to be in this predicament with George that you didn’t even fully register the words that just left his mouth. “please.” You begged again, but he only tutted at you and shook his head.

You gripped the couch as you felt a finger run up and down your clothed pussy, slightly bucking your hips to get even the slightest bit more pressure. George’s only response to this was to hold you down with his free hand and continue with his tease.

“So wet for me.” He hummed.

“All you.” You breathed out.

He pulled your skirt down tantalizingly slow, making you groan in frustration. You should’ve known he would’ve been a tease.

Unable to take all the sluggish undressing, you took it upon yourself to start removing your top, hastily undoing the buttons.

George only watched and smirked. You sat up slightly and went to remove your bra, but he stopped you.

“Let me.” He said in a hushed tone.

You looked at him before moving your hands away from the clasps behind your back. However, it was your turn to add a little friction. You moved your hand to his hardened cock and started rubbing him over his trousers. He took a sharp breath in and dropped his head a bit to watch your hand.

“Ahhh and just when you thought you were the only one who could have fun.” you teased before licking his lips.

He had no response, how could he though when he was in pure bliss. He took a sharp breath before moving your hand away, now pulling you closer and swiftly undoing your bra.

“Lay back, Love.” he hummed.

You easily complied. laying back down on the red plush couch that was slowly growing to become your favorite spot in the world.

Taken away by your enthralling thoughts, you didn’t even notice George move his head down to your clothed cunt, licking a blissful stripe up them with his warm tongue.

Your legs instantly went up to your chest, your hands now clinging to his red hair. “Fucking hell, Georgie!” you moaned.

“Shhhhh. Don’t wanna wake anyone up, Love.”

There was that nickname again that sounded so beautiful rolling off of his tongue. A nickname that sent shockwaves down your entire spine. Sure he’s always called you that, but never in this position.

He moved your panties to the side and got right to work, now sucking and lapping up every bit of wetness you had dripping from your cunt.

Your back arched and you tugged his hair, needing him closer if it was even possible.

He continued and looked up at you through his eyelashes, a glint in his eyes, looking as if he were worshipping you.

You kept your eyes locked on his, now grinding your hips against his tongue, chasing your very close high as he continued to eat you out delightfully.

“God, please. Don’t stop!” You chanted in a whisper.

However, much to your and George’s dismay, he stopped. He licked his mouth clean, now moving up to reattach his lips to yours.

Tasting yourself from his mouth could’ve easily sent you straight up to heaven, and you would’ve happily stayed there if it meant this is indeed what heaven was.

He was in no way done though. He, with much ease, ripped your panties clean off you, making you gasp against his mouth before pulling back to look at him like he was a mad man.

“It can be fixed.” was all he said, chasing your lips to return to his own.

He started rubbing circles on your clit making you moan against his lips and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Feel good, pretty girl?”

You didn’t have words, only nodding your head. He then dipped two long fingers into your pussy and started pumping them slowly.

You threw your head back, your face contorted with pleasure and George simply couldn’t get enough.

“And how about that, hm?”

The cheeky fucker couldn’t help himself. Every dream, every scenario that ran through your head, and seemingly his, was finally coming to fruition.

He picked up his pace, the sounds from your pussy and your hushed moans filling the entire room. You gripped his arm, which was lavishly toned from quidditch, and squeezed.

“Georgie- please. I need to feel you. All of you.”

“Be specific.” he demanded

You groaned and rolled your eyes before staring him dead in his. “I need you to fuck me.”

He smirked and nodded his head.

“Your wish is my command.”

He stood up and removed the rest of his garments. Now completely bare in front of you. You couldn’t help but gape at his exquisite physique and his gorgeous cock right before your eyes.

He moved back between your legs, finding his own personal heaven there, as your wrapped your arms around his neck.

He slid himself in painfully slow. Groaning at how perfectly warm and tight you were.

“Fuck” he drawled out in a whisper.

Your back arches and your face contorted from both pain and pleasure. He was larger than your previous conquests and you weren’t prepared for the adjusting that it took.

He finally bottomed out and gave you both time to take a couple of breaths before starting to thrust his hips in a perfect rhythm that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Holy shit!” you hissed as your fingers dug into the sides of his arms.

He took this adjustment in your arms as the golden opportunity to wrap his hand around your neck, squeezing the sides as he relented into your pussy.

It took everything in you not to scream. You dug your nails into his arm and brought your other hand up to cover your mouth, now fully unable to control anything that may come out.

George chuckled and quickened his pace, loving how entirely fucked out you looked.

He then clenched his jaw, trying to stifle any noises that dared to escape him as well.

As his thrusts began to get sloppy, indicating that he was close, you felt your high returning to you as well.

“Fuck, Georgie, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned and he squeezed the sides of your neck a little tighter.

“Me too, Love.”

He was fully moaning out now as well, his mouth fully betraying him.

Then he hit that perfect spot and the tension inside of you snapped, completely releasing your orgasm and clenching around him.

“Fucking hell!” he hissed as his own orgasm shot through him, shooting strings of cum into your cunt, his cock twitching as your cunt clenched, both dancing beautifully together inside you.

He removed his hand from your throat and relaxed his entire body against you, placing his entire body weight on you. He didn’t pull out right away and you officially declared this your favorite feeling in the entire world.

It was a bit of time before he finally pulled out of you and you whined at the empty feeling, which earned a soft laugh from him.

“Greedy are we?” he teased.

You flipped him off, which, of course, only made him laugh harder.

“Hold tight, pretty.” he said as he rummaged around the pile of clothing for his wand before pointing it toward the slight slightly ajar bathroom door.

“Accio towel.”

As a towel whisked through the air and into his arms, you couldn’t help but to admire the man in front of you.

“Here you are, Love.” he said as he began to clean you up. You were definitely in love.

As he finished cleaning, he picked up your scattered clothes but stopped himself before handing them to you. He eyed the bathroom and looked back to you.

“How about a shower and round 2?”

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A/N: Thank you for reading! This was my first time writing smut or really any fan fic so let me know any feedback or even if you liked it :) there will be more to come to please bare with me on this new journey into writing as everything does get better with time. Thank you!

[hyunnie04]

cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

-

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way. 

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason. 

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face. 

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

-

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first. 

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with. 

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…” 

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

-

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment.  “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

-

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

-

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

-

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

-

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

-

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core. 

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure. 

"you're confusing." another thrust. 

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up. 

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at. 

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you. 

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong. 

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head. 

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt. 

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.   

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin. 

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.   

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?” 

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

[sturnsdoll]

𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳𝒀 𝑮𝑭 ˚୨୧⋆｡ - C.S

(headcannons!)

warnings: hc's, chris x hyperfeminine/girly reader, sfw and nsfw but they are labelled as such. nsfw warnings: dom!chris, brat!gf, teasing, mostly suggestive.

authors note: i had fun with this so if y'all want a pt2 or any other hc's pls send reqs for them!

SFW !

₊⊹⤑ chris always admired how in touch with your feminimity you are. he always loved the bows, dainty necklaces, skirts and lace, it made you seem so delicate and sweet.

₊⊹⤑ chris will always jump at an opportunity to help you braid your hair (which you taught him.), clip a necklace for you, zip the back of your dress. he loves helping you out no matter how big or small.

₊⊹⤑ anytime you're doing your makeup or picking out an outfit you can always find chris watching with adoration.

₊⊹⤑ even when chris didn't understand something, he still loved it. did he know what the difference between cream or powdered blush? nope. but nonetheless, he thought it looked pretty on you.

₊⊹⤑ did he know what the hell the difference between coffin or square was? also no. but he paid for your nails anyways because he knew it brought you joy.

₊⊹⤑ he'll find any reason to get close to you so he can take in your familiar sweet scent..

₊⊹⤑ from your hair to your clothes to your perfume, you always smell like candy, cake, anything and everything heavenly.

₊⊹⤑ sometimes your delicate appearance comes back to bite you in the ass though.. you and chris will get into small arguements and he'll just stand staring at you, a small smile growing on his face..

₊⊹⤑ "what's funny jackass?" "jus' can't take you serious when you look that cute" he'd tease you.

NSFW !

₊⊹⤑ despite your delicate exterier, chris knows you have another side to you. ₊⊹⤑ chris would casually congragulate you on things infront of friends with a nonchalant "good girl." or "you're doing so well" that would make your thighs clench. ₊⊹⤑ chris knew exactly what he was doing though. he would say the same things when you were on your knee's for him or when you asked him before you came. ₊⊹⤑ what did you love more than chris' praise though? ₊⊹⤑ being a brat.

₊⊹⤑ on days where you'd wear your short skirts and dresses, you'd always make sure to tease him. sitting on his lap, bending over near him to let him catch a glimpse of your lacey thong. ₊⊹⤑ you especially loved doing this in public where he couldn't do anything about it.

₊⊹⤑ he'd whisper in your ear "keep it up sweetheart, i'll bend you over my lap the second we're home." and he would. ₊⊹⤑ he loved how your attitude betrayed your sweetness, but you know what he loved even more? to fuck it out of you. ₊⊹⤑ "such a dirty mouth for such a sweet girl. maybe we should fix that hm?" and next thing you'd know you were on your knee's, doe eyes looking all fucked out as he filled your perfectly glossed lips.

₊⊹⤑ skirts were also a weakness of his for other reasons. easy access when you were sitting in his lap asking for attention or when he wanted to tease you under the table at dinner with friends.

₊⊹⤑ it was nearly impossible to say no to you though.

₊⊹⤑ you'd come to him while he was getting ready. "chris. i need you" "i need to film in a few. later okay baby?" "chris please." then he'd catch sight of you.. ₊⊹⤑ pretty little top with your clevage peeking out, your hair pulled back with ribbon but little pieces framing your face. a desperation in your eyes that only he can fix.

₊⊹⤑ how could he say no to you?

₊⊹⤑ so before he'd film, he'd lay you out across your bed on your fluffy blankets. his head would dissapear beneath your skirt till your perfectly manicured nails were dug in his scalp, till you were more than satisfied. ₊⊹⤑ matt and nick couldn't help but giggle when he entered the car. ₊⊹⤑ "dude.." nick started. chris looked at his brothers confused "what?". "you have pink lipgloss ALL around your mouth.." matt would tell him knowingly.

₊⊹⤑ wonder where that came from?...

tags: @mattsrod @sturncakez

[ryebread0605]

I love your work! May I request Epel Felmier x female reader? He has never met or talked to her before. She always comes to his spelldrive games and watches him practice. The only reason she never approached him is because she is shy and has a crush on him. Please make it super fluffly❣️☺️

Thank you so much for supporting my work!

As you requested fluff I didn’t know if you also wanted nsfw stuff so I added a warning before it! Hope you enjoy!!!

Also, reminder my asks are always open so feel free to drop a request!

Seated in the stands once again, you couldn’t help the smile that came on your face as you watched him work so hard. The way the sun shone on him, highlighting the determination in his eyes, it just made you swoon more. To you, everything about him was perfect. He was smart, kind, courageous, and damn good looking. Countless days you had spent fantasizing about being able to just talk to the purple haired boy.

But that would never happen.

You had tried before, multiple times, but just couldn’t bring yourself to even start a conversation with him. I mean, he was so perfect! How would he ever want to talk to you? He was everything you weren’t, and it frustrated you as well as made you feel worse.

That was, until he approached you after one of his games.

“Hey, (name) right? I always see you cheerin us on in the stands!” Your face was deep red as Epel approached, that stupidly cute smile on his face with his hair still tied back from the game. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, only shyly nodding in response as he grew closer,

“Hey so.. I know this may be out of nowhere but I was wondering if you wanted to come with me apple picking? Vil’s taking all of us from pomefiore and we’re allowed to bring one other person.” Your eyes widened in surprise, was he really asking you to go with him?! From the small laugh falling from his lips, it appeared that shock was much more visible than you meant it to be.

“Yer so darn cute when ya get all shocked! Er- I mean- ahem.. you look very cute when you are surprised!” He looked away with a slight pink on his cheeks as his accent slipped out once again. Your soft voice broke him out of his thoughts,

“Y-you don’t need to hide your real voice… I-it’s.. nice” the smile on his face made you subconsciously smile as well. A small squeak left your lips as he hugged you tight,

“You truly are the sweetest.. Vil better watch out, I think you’re actually the fairest of them all”. With a wink, he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. Your smile only grew, was this truly happening?! 

“I’ll see you in a few days”

True to his word, a few days later he met up with you outside the school. The two of you chatted happily as you walked side by side to the apple orchard, hands brushing each others from time to time and smiles on your faces. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you finally took the chance to interlock your fingers with his, a shocked look appeared on his face for a fraction of a second before switching to a wide smile as he happily held your hand in his.

Once you two had gotten to the orchard, its vastness almost intimidated you until Epel reassured you that he had plenty of experience with orchards and wouldn’t leave your side. You felt so safe with him, so cared about, as the two of you took two baskets from Vil and began your journey picking the fresh fruit. The entire time, you two kept joking and laughing, his actions slowly growing more and more intimate as he went from hand holding to holding you closer with a hand on your waist to slowly running his hand down your sides.

You truly believed today could not get any better.

(Smut starts here!)

Only an hour later, you found yourself corrected as your shaking legs struggled to hold up your body. Your hands pressed against a tree far away from any prying eyes as Epel rutted into your sopping cunt at a gentle yet quick pace.

“You look so gorgeous like this, drooling from my cock. God I love the way your cunt just pulls me back in~” the soft yet slightly degrading words only made your mind fuzzier as you felt all thoughts you once had get fucked out of you. It felt so good the way he hit all the spots that even you yourself didn’t know set off pleasure within you.

“Cmon sweet girl, lemme hear how good I’m making you feel~” his hips moved faster as his thrusts became more sporadic, your moans echoing through the orchard as your back arched. With each thrust, your chest bounced in Epel’s hands as he groped at the soft flesh. 

“F-fuck Epel I’m gonna-!” A loud moan tore from your throat as your orgasm hit you hard, Epel not stopping his rapid pace until suddenly stilling and filling you up with warm cum. As he pulled out, leaving both of you panting, you took the opportunity to lock lips with him and begin to make out again. 

Guiding him to the ground, you slowly lined his dick up and lowered yourself down, bouncing on his juicy cock like an absolute whore. You just couldn’t have enough, the feeling was absolutely amazing and you never wanted it to stop.

The shy girl you once were was no more as you were reduced to a cockdrunk slut for your now boyfriend.

[thebluediner]

HIIIII... anyways this is my first time requesting a fic so I hope this makes sense and if it doesn't just try and bare with me . okay so let's say reader and Billie are dating but media doesn't know about it until like the Met Gala where reader and Billie are kinda matching outfits ( maybe Billie's met gala outfit from 2023 and Emma Chamberlain met gala outfit from 2024 idk they looked a little similar in my head ) and like Billie gets taken to do an interview at the met gala and like gives subtle hints that her and reader might be dating and you can do whatever else you want with the rest of the fic ( also you can make the met gala whatever year you want it to be )

a/n: hiiiii baby, I hope you like it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) finished this up just in time with the met gala this year. I know you waited so long lovie but I hope you love it

𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙢 #𝟱

𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤'𝙨 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚��𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙩, 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙪𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠. 𝘼𝙡𝙨𝙤, 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙢𝙚.

time: the day of the met gala

you stood in the middle of the hotel room your hands intertwined and placed on your front looking over at the window at the sunny blue skied day. it's was quiet and stunning you always liked weather like that it's made you feel safe. it reassured you how you could wear anything without covering it up with a jacket or something for reasons like " just in case it rains" that made you feel free. your eyes blinked when a sharp pain pierced your skin.

someone muttered an apology before their hand pats over the hurting part of your body reminding you were you were. the tranquil space you thought you were in suddenly disappeared and replaced with reality.

you were in a luxurious five star hotel located in new york that carried probably every other guest of the met gala. there was chaos around you.

one of your many hairstylists took control of the assessing the type of hairstyle you would go for because by the looks of it the others didn't know how to deal with your type of hair. so that resulted in gel , combs , small brushes , water , extensions and much more than you could comprehend being brought over.

your dress finally found its way right in front of your eyes. your doe brown orbs traced the material inspecting it of any faults that would appear in the lens of the many cameras that would be surround you later that day. originally it had a pink lace under-top that it went with but it didn't speak to you so you got it removed.

when you look at this dress you don't regret it because it's the most beautiful thing you've seen but the moment the thought passes blue ocean eyes with the perfect eyelashes , pretty button nose and the most kissable lip come to mind and you wasted no time in rethinking your judgement. the thought brings an uncontrollable smile and blush to your face.

the stylist smiles at you with some kind of knowing eyes but instead of teasing you or anything she hands the dress over to you so you could wear it. the material lands in your hands and you swear a huff escapes your lips because you didn't expect it to be that heavy. the people around you giggle at your wide eyes reacting to your stylist.

she leads you to another room to get changed but she stays outside in case you need anything from her. you felt like a little girl when you slipped your phone to try and send some kind of text to her.

-billie my dress is so heavy wtf

-okay that was totally an excuse to talk to you

-but anyways I miss you already

-man my dress is so tight

-I had a feeling about that but I miss you too my love

-I'm gonna try and not pounce on you when I see you tonight

you giggled reading the message which you instantly regretted forgetting your stylist was waiting for you a couple of feet away. you eyes look at the dress you've placed on the bed knowing time isn't going to be your friend if you keep being a lovesick puppy. you groan a bit before typing in some words to billie.

-fuck okay wait I need to actually get dressed

-I'll see you later sexy

-I love you and good luck out there

you threw your phone on the bed before hurrying to get into the dress. it took a few grunt and yelps before you were able to slip into it. you opened the door for the stylist to hook on the ribbons and pull them as tight as possible to define your waists more. a scream escaped your lips causing a couple of eyes to peak and see the commotion all for them to laugh at the realisation.

you knew you liked the dress and hopefully the media will too but more importantly you hoped billie would love it. you weren't going to the carpet together but separately so you would meet later inside the venue.

time flew the sunny days turned into a sunset and by that time your hair was done and you felt like a member of a royal family. glasses of champagne were served around the room just to ease the nerves and celebrate the work done so far. soo enough you were being escorted out of the room through the hallways which was way too small for the puff of your dress which caused shuffling sounds throughout the long pathway. getting into the elevator was worse since you discovered only one other person could fit in with you.

once you reached the lobby you wet met with a bunch of men in tuxedos carrying wildly decorated umbrellas from the early ages. you turned back to your assistant and stylist in question at the random men. your assistant instantly froe realisation she forgot to mention the last minute planning but your manager saved the day when she quickly briefed you on the plan. upon explanation these men where going to surround you i attempt to hide you and the dress from the cameras outside the hotel.

it was definitely fun hearing the screaming around when you wet outside covered in ruffled lacy parasols matching your dress just to be kept a secret until the very red carpet leading up the stairs though it was obvious sitting down the car seats was harder than you thought so you more so slouched.

''do not rush into that building without spending at-least twenty minute on the carpet'' you manger instructs you as if she could read your mind and knew the plan.

''excuse me... I was not going to do that'' you huff rolling your eyes but then silence enveloped the scene. your eyes traced back to the women accompanying you in the car.

''no really I was not...'' yet they still gave you questionable glances making you sigh in defeat.

''okay yeah maybe but I won't any more promise'' you say with a foolish smile being caught guilty. you picked up the tiny model of a pink hat placing it on your head before turning to them to ask an opinion. with their thumbs up you pace it to be a bit more firm so it won't fall out

when you arrived at the events there were people all around the venue screaming it's was crazy. the moment your vans door slid open you were gently guided down paying great mind to your shoes and the mobility the dress provided. from the other van the men assembled in front of you pulling our the matching parasols acting as your companions more than bodyguard. it was funny and definitely a concept to play into.

the moment people around got a glimpse of you the screams roared and pierced through the venue. people were shouting your name for recognition, some yelling over to compliment you and some purely for your existence. the dress cascaded over your feet brushing onto the carpet as it flowed onto the ground leading you onto the main carpet. when you got there you realised so many other celebrities have entered way before you as some were already headed towards the doors.

you didn't see her but she definitely felt the air switch when you entered. billie was way above the stairs standing tall on her platform heels and tight corset pushing her breast up she looked to die but you hadn't seen that yet. she was busy with her interview with a journalist from a big media company but somehow billie couldn't hear anything she said the moment she saw your figure down the stairs. the camera totally caught the moment of total loserism she just displayed but with a little pat from the journalist she seem to find a way out of the trance.

''sorry... it's so busy it's easy to get distracted'''billie muttered an excuse for her behaviour but there was a reason this journalist was from a big company she was the best, maybe a little too much.

'' you know we've realised you like being associated with her'' the woman didn't have to mention your name and that made billie feel a bit too excited. so of-course that cheeky lip bite and a flashing smile slipped

'' who wouldn't she's a very beautiful and talented woman'' billie says her eyes always finding you just like the cameras flashing each second.

'' that's really kind of you billie, you wouldn't mind us relaying that to her when she comes up the stars would you ''

''not at all let my girl know how pretty I think she is'' that was a total slip up but billie didn't let it show though it shocked her as well. with a quick smile and her eyes scanning were you were for the millionth time before she accepted finneas's hand to guide her up the stairs joining the main event.

not later than a couple of minutes later you found yourself in the palms of the same journalist. you exchange pleasantries and a few girly screams at each others outfits.

'' whatever this is I love it girl way to fit in into the theme'' she says pointing to the men that surrounded you with parasols covering you at every angle possible.

'' ah! thank you babes the creative directors knew the vision very well''

'' you know who else saw your vision?'' she said teasing with her cameraman even laughing along with her.

'' girl who?'' you asked throwing a skeptical look at her not knowing what's coming in next.

''billie eilish was here a couple of minutes ago and asked me to really her message of how beautiful and talented her girl is''

you weren't aware of the look on your face but the camera picked up the way the corners of your lips twitched into a bigger smile at the mention of billie alone with some shy laughs which you covered with your hands hovering above your face trying to hide it.

'' she's very sweet can't wait to see her inside'' the way your heart pounded against your chest at the thought of her made you grow a little impatient.

'' you two are sure excited to see each other'' she said in a way that made you think she knew something you didn't

''pretty girl are always my favourite you know that'' you admitted even though you might've been revealing a little too much. after the interview you gave her a playfully curtsy before you and your companions rised up the stairs.

when you arrived up the stairs you were met with your assistant and manager once again. they quickly thanked the men around you which you did the same without a fail to mention the fun you had with them before they drifted away in polite smile leaving you alone. with a few words of encouragement and warnings to not get carried away with the drinks in there they pushed you into the gala.

yours eyes didn't even bother to look around and admire the interior design and the archived designs you were after one person. your eyes searched frantically around the room to no avail well until you felt a hand on your exposed shoulder. when you turned you eyes turned to lighter ones leaving you with a rushing of excitement.

'' oh my lady way to bless us with your beauty this evening'' billie said with a copy of the english accent trying to fit the role as she complimented you in awe going as far as throwing in a curtsy.

'' well thank you my lady though I see more beauty in you this fine evening'' you gave her her own set of compliments your hands squeezing hers in excitement with a giggle at her antics

the night was going to be long but at-least you were going to be with her from here on, even for the after party.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Sebek and Silver with a strong s/o ✧･ﾟ

Summary: These headcanons are for Silver and Sebek Zigvolt with a physically strong s/o who is able to lift them into the air and carry them around in their arms.

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, they/them pronouns for reader, gender neutral reader, the reader is assumed to be smaller than Silver/Sebek

.

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver

Silver was floored initially.

How is his s/o SO STRONG?

He has been training since childhood and they just... lift him.

Silver is confused about how someone smaller can do such a thing.

He is also amazed, however, and... Ultimately, he likes it.

It eases his worries that his lover can find him and carry him to wherever he needs to be if he passes out against his will.

At first, he found it a bit emasculating but he's over that now.

The reason he is over it is that Lilia pointed out his own height.

Silver ended up apologizing for dishonoring his father.

Silver's s/o got to hear about this the day after.

Silver asks his s/o if they would consider training with him.

If they accept, they get to see a new side to Silver.

They also unlock a new era of their relationship called "Lilia is my father-in-law AND my teacher woohoo!"

Silver opened his eyes to see the world moving by him much more quickly than anticipated. Hadn't he been in the courtyard? Why was he looking up at the sky? Why were the clouds moving so fast? It was a bit jarring if the light-haired boy was being honest about it.

"Wh...?"

"Oh! Good! You're awake!" [Name]'s voice could be heard from...

...Above him?

He looked down and sure enough, there was his lovely partner. They were holding him bridal style as they walked (at a fairly good pace). Where were they headed? Was he awake right now? He felt sluggish.

"[Name]...?" it left Silver's lips slowly, "Wh... What are you doing?"

"Taking you to class, silly!" [Name] told him, laughing softly.

"Oh..."

[Name] was headed toward his next class. Silver wasn't sure what his next class was but he was probably late for it. Sebek would not like that.

Father may or may not care but Sebek would never let him hear the end of it. He might even insist on Silver being punished for dishonoring their master. Silver wanted to sigh at just the thought of it.

"Thank you..." Silver told them, face dusted with a soft pink, "Uhm. This is helpful... If not a tad, er, embarrassing..."

They giggled at his wording.

"I don't mind helping you out, Sil," they told him, "And, is it? I think you're cute like this."

They were being a bit too honest for Silver to handle, his face turned a bit redder at the comment. People didn't often carry him. It wasn't something that should happen to guards for Prince Malleus, his master. And it had been years since his father last carried him anywhere. He was no longer a child.

And... being called cute was different when it came from [Name] and not his father or Prince Malleus (when he was younger).

"I, ah... Thank you."

Those were the words Silver settled on as they headed to his class together.

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Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek is startled and a bit offended the first time it happens.

His s/o, his TINY LOVER, lifts HIM into the air.

He screams and gets detention from Professor Trein.

The second, third, and fourth times it happens are no better.

Each time, he yells in startlement and thinks there is danger afoot.

The only reason s/o doesn't get clocked is because they are s/o.

WHAT IF HE HURT THEM?? NEVER!

By the sixth or seventh time, he starts to get used to it.

Sebek starts to expect his s/o to pick him up if he makes a fuss.

Sometimes, he will make a fuss so they showcase their strength, the pride he feels for their existence outweighing the show of weakness in front of others.

In the end, he's fine with it, but he still shouts in a typical Sebek fashion that he wishes to be put down.

His s/o understands that he doesn't mean it and sometimes makes a mad dash across campus with Sebek in their arms.

Lilia is the one who asks if you want to train with them sometime.

Sebek is gleaming with pride at the fact that his s/o was acknowledged by his teacher, THE Lilia Vanrouge.

Sebek was yelling down at his partner as they carried him across the courtyard of Night Raven College. Despite this, [Name] did not stop running. In fact, they did not seem to mind one bit. It was quite fitting for someone who had chosen Sebek as their lover.

"PUT ME DOWN, [NAME]! I WILL BE LATE FOR MALLEUS-SAMA'S APPOINTMENT!" Sebek called to them, not caring that his volume was attracting attention from other students.

"You'll be fine, I can get you there!" [Name] told him, switching directions to head toward the Mirror Chamber, "You'll be there early!"

As they turned, Sebek did not even pause his yelling as his body flew around like a tower in the washing machine before settling back in the strange upright position his lover was carrying him in.

"WE HAD BETTER NOT BE LATE! WE CANNOT DISHONOR MALLEUS-SAMA!" Sebek continued.

[Name] just laughed at his statements as they headed toward his destination. It was kind of fun to be transportation for Sebek, the looks it earned from peers and upperclassmen alike was hilarious.

As long as they didn't crash into anyone, it should be fine!

"ONWARD, [NAME]!"

"I thought you didn't like this, Sebek?" they teased.

"I DO NOT! I SIMPLY WISH TO GET TO MALLEUS-SAMA."

"Sure, sure."

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[suzukiblu]

Day four of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon melts like goddamn butter, and Tim draws his fingers through his hair twice, long and slow, and then reaches over to the nightstand with his free hand to pick up a fork off the tray and stick it in one of the waffle quarters on his own plate. He keeps petting through Kon’s hair with the other hand, and Kon kind of just . . . 

If Tim’s going to keep petting him like that, he doesn’t wanna do anything that’d make him stop, so he just sort of . . . settles in, and rolls his tongue up flat and tight against the other’s cock and does the best he can to shift into the right angle to slide the shaft as far into his throat as he can, and only has to use his TTK a little for it. Just–takes as much of Tim as he can, but doesn’t try to bob his head or leave Tim the space to fuck his mouth, really. 

Technically, Kon can literally pin a baseline human down like this. Like, even without the TTK, he’s more than strong enough to pin any baseline human like this. And Tim said he could keep his cock ‘til he was done eating, so Kon definitely wants to get to keep it that long. He wants to have it as long as Tim’ll let him have it. 

So until Tim tells him otherwise, he’s just . . . gonna do that, yeah, Kon thinks, and snakes an arm around between the headboard and the small of Tim’s back and makes sure he’s pinned right there, and swallows slow and tight around his cock without giving him any space to pull away. Tim hums; scritches his nails against Kon’s scalp and takes a bite of waffle. 

“You know, babe, for some reason I feel like you’re not gonna be appreciating those waffles like you could be right now,” Bernard teases with a snicker. “Though I’m impressed with your restraint on not pouring caramel in your lap before you poured your boy into it, because I would not have been able to resist that particular temptation myself.” 

“The temptation of having to scrub caramel out of my pubes later, you mean?” Tim says dryly. 

“I mean, the dude did ask for flavored condoms,” Bernard reminds him reasonably. “So I think finding out what he’d think of getting to try one would be worth it, personally?” 

“. . . ngh,” Tim mutters very, very quietly, his fingers curling briefly in Kon’s hair. Kon maybe purrs about it. Like . . . just a little, probably, but . . . definitely he purrs about it, yeah. 

And maybe also a little bit about the caramel idea, he’s not gonna lie. 

“Jesus,” Bernard says under his breath. “Do I even wanna know what that feels like around your dick?” 

“Like I’ve got an overclocked Sybian in my lap,” Tim replies frankly, then takes a real careful bite of his waffle and draws his fingers through Kon’s hair again just as careful. Kon’s not really sure why Tim feels like being careful? Like . . . why that’s a thing, he means? 

Maybe he’s just still doing the gentle thing, Kon guesses, and feels warm about the thought. And about the hand in his hair, and the cock in his mouth–the cock down his throat–and the way it feels to hold Tim like this, when Tim knows exactly how easily he could snap his spine or crush his hips with a completely effortless or even accidental squeeze. Tim knows that better than anyone, after that fucking awful–after he broke his arm, and–

Kon’s gut twists uncomfortably, and then Tim draws his fingers through his hair a little heavier, and Kon just–he sinks into that feeling, and not the shitty thoughts that’re trying to drag him down into them instead. That’s–that isn’t what Tim would want, he knows. Definitely isn’t what Tim would want right now. 

Tim knows better than anyone how much he could hurt him, and he still wants him here. That’s the only thing that matters, far as Kon gives a fuck. All he cares about is Tim letting him have this, thinking he deserves this, and how good it feels to get it. 

How good this all feels. 

Tim’s heartbeat is accelerated and spiking here and there, not held down into something too-steady, like all it’s doing is responding to the way it feels to have his cock inside something hot and wet and tight that really wants it there. Which–Kon very, very much wants Tim inside him right now, yeah. Any kind of inside him, really, but . . . 

It just feels really good to just keep his head in Tim’s lap like this; to just suck and swallow around his cock and not really move or anything; not really have to give up anything. To listen to Tim’s heart skip a beat or two, and feel Tim’s fingers in his hair, and feel Tim’s body under his body and the warm, smooth leather of his own jacket where it’s hanging down Tim’s back and pinned against the inside of his bare arm. Kon had really liked waking up and seeing Tim hadn’t thought of a reason to take it off. 

Or, maybe, waking up and seeing Tim might’ve come up with a reason not to take it off. 

Kon really likes that idea. 

“Do they make meta-grade Sybians, you think?” Bernard asks, and Kon hears Tim laugh and feels him smile in obvious amusement; feels him smile fondly in obvious amusement, the exact same way he smiles when he’s texting or talking to Bernard on the phone. The exact same way, except for how this time Kon can feel Bernard smiling back. 

It’s really–it’s really nice, being able to feel that. Both sides of it. He thinks he was thinking about that before, but . . . yeah. It’s really nice, same as the way Tim and Bernard’s heartbeats sound together. Just–nice. 

He’s probably thought that before too. 

“I mean, probably,” Tim replies with a casual shrug. “Meta-grade sex toys, at least. Somebody must be by now.” 

“I find it very hard to believe you don’t know for sure either way,” Bernard says, snickering again. Tim shrugs again too, lightly twisting Kon’s curls around his fingers, and Kon wants to be exactly that easy for him to control. 

“Why?” he asks. “I don’t need anything meta-grade and neither do you.” 

“I mean, I feel like you do currently have something ‘meta-grade’ purring like a fucking motorcyle engine around your cock,” Bernard points out practically. “Like I do very much feel like that’s a thing. And also c’mon, Backup-Plan Wonder, you seriously never looked into the possibility? Not even once?” 

“I didn’t know anybody I thought would like them,” Tim says, twisting another one of Kon’s curls through his fingers, and Kon’s gut flashes hot. That is . . . definitely a choice of phrasing that Tim just made, considering. 

“Okay, well, given what somebody may or may not’ve said to Power Girl in cold, un-kryptonited blood, is that actually true?” Bernard teases. “Especially if your boy ever does wanna get pegged after this.” 

Kon’s whole body flashes hot, and he tightens the arm he has around Tim’s back without even thinking about it, feeling his skin prickle and face burn. That–that’s– 

“Like, he already wants the piercings, right?” Bernard shrugs easily, reaching out and sliding a hand up Kon’s exposed spine, which is suddenly feeling even more exposed than it already was. “Finding the dude a nice hard toy to ride every now and then would definitely have less effect on his sex life than helping him pierce his tits would, gotta say, much less helping him pierce his dick. Although maybe if you got him a strap to pack for his next date . . .?” 

“Not even the kinkiest introvert alive would count a four-day threesome with a radioactive mineral as a date, Ber,” Tim snorts at the exact same moment Kon makes an embarrassing sound around the other’s cock, and then Tim . . . pauses, and curls his fingers in just a little bit tighter against his scalp. Kon’s face burns with worse embarrassment and–just–he tenses a little, maybe, but–

But Bernard said “next” date, like he was thinking of this as a date. And then, like–then–

It isn’t a date. Like, Tim is in no way wrong about this not being a date. Like–obviously. Unless the “date” is Tim and Bernard doing an activity together, which like, Kon kind of is an “activity” in bed, he knows, so just–

He knows it’s not a date, but–but he felt really weird, when Tim said that like it was–stupid, or . . . 

It is stupid, so Kon doesn’t know why he felt that way. Kind of–feels–

Kon tries to duck his head, which would definitely work better without a dick in his throat, and then he just tries to, like–to not–

“Oh,” Tim murmurs, his voice sounding a little–tight, now, and Kon doesn’t–he– 

Tim tugs light at Kon’s jaw and Kon follows the tug awkwardly and shifts back just enough to let the other’s cock slip out of his mouth, still feeling embarrassed; ducks his head after all and feels–weird, still. Way, way too weird. 

Dammit, he thinks, and then just hopes Tim doesn’t know what he was thinki–

“You know you’re not a joke to me, Kon,” Tim says quietly, cupping Kon’s face in his hands, and Kon hates being so fucking obvious and–and too weird, he–he–“You’re never a joke to me.” 

Kon tries to say something back, tries to tell him he does know, he’s just being stupid, he’s–but he’s just–he’s so fucking embarrassed, still, and the floaty feeling that was slipping through his head starts feeling like–like vertigo, he guesses. Like, when he was capable of getting vertigo. He is not actually capable of getting vertigo anymore, but it’s a very distinct feeling and not exactly mistakable for anything else, so it’s not like he’s forgotten it. 

Just–he felt floaty, and now he feels–weird, instead. 

“Kon,” Tim says even quieter; quiet enough to count as soft.