#and if other people were just there to enjoy it it's totally fine!

[restlessmaknae]

love 119 // anton

You and Anton are an unlikely combo. He's a professional swimmer, and you write for the school magazine. One interview with him leads to a series of consequences including asking him to prepare you for the school's swimming competition, and ultimately, falling in love with him.

➳ Characters: swimmer!Anton x school magazine writer!female reader/you

➳ Genre: high school au, boarding school au, rich kids au, comedy, fluff

➳ Words: 7.2k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, reader feels insecure about being 'average' at school, they are both down bad but oblivious until the very end

➳ A/N: This story is part of my KOZ International High series, but can totally be read on its own as it's Anton's own story.

Attending KOZ International High was like watching those movies where they send a misbehaved child to a boarding school in a different country, only for her to experience many culture shocks alongside many unfortunate events that come with living on her own for the very first time. Except that you weren’t a misbehaved child, just a girl whose parents had the money to send her abroad, and a good enough student to actually make it.

Freshman year was living hell for you. You were away from your home, your friends, and even your cute little dog. There was no one else in your whole year who came from your country, so you couldn’t befriend them on your very first day when you heard their name, unlike Heidi and Frida who both came from Germany. You had a national swimming champion, a Youtuber, an app developer, a worldwide known pianist and even a chess champion at your school alongside many students who had won different competitions in many different subjects.

Going from being the top of your class back in your home country to being an average student here - because average here still meant you performed constantly above 85% in all subjects - was rough. Being away from the familiar, your safe spaces and cosy spots and from all the people you knew at the ripe age of 15 was also rough. You felt like you had existential crises for the first few months every single day, and you didn’t know what happened or what day it was, but you just calmed down after a while.

Afterwards, you decided to take advantage of being at this school, and just enjoy the perks it had. You went to the on-site gym, you joined conversations in the communal kitchen of the student hall, you befriended one of your classmates - Dew from Thailand who was an impossibly tall yet shy guy - and you applied for the school magazine at the end of freshman year, and successfully got in.

So from sophomore year, you were a part of the school magazine team that published articles online about students, their achievements, school events but also local news, programmes and initiatives. You didn’t have to stick to just one section, but Minju and Yunah liked writing about local news, so it was kind of like their topic now. At first, you only wrote about school events, but then, you had the opportunity to conduct an interview with Anton Lee from the other class who was in the national swimming team.

However, since he was not from your class, you didn’t really know him or what he looked like, but you didn’t want to be a stalker and message him on social media (though for that to happen, you needed his ID first, and no Anton Lee on Instagram looked like it could be a 16-year-old swimming champion). So you tried your luck in the sports centre which had two giant swimming pools, and as far as you were informed (by Andrew who was on good terms with the guys from the other class), Anton usually practiced here after classes, even on weekends.

What you didn’t expect was to see five different guys and two more girls taking advantage of the swimming pool when you walked into the place in your flip-flops (no outside shoes were allowed). How the hell were you supposed to find Anton? You thought that it would be just him on this fine weekend, but alas, maybe you were the only one who didn’t like swimming that much.

You stood there, totally out of place, until one of the boys emerged from the water, and you decided to walk up to him. Or more like waddle up to him like a penguin, trying not to slip and fall into the water, especially when you saw how defined his abs were. Even though you had swimming classes in freshman year, so you saw boys in their swimwear, you definitely didn’t prepare yourself for this…

“Hi!” You gave him a little wave with your hand, gaining his attention. “Sorry to bother you, but have you happened to see Anton today?” You tried with a friendly smile, but the boy just stood there in front of you, not saying a word. It was difficult to decipher how he was feeling because he was wearing dark-coloured swim goggles, so you couldn’t see his eyes even if he was rolling them at you or not. “Anton Lee?” You tried again in case he didn’t know whom you meant.

You started to feel very weird at this point, but then, the boy got rid of his cap and his goggles, revealing a soft set of eyes and a somewhat confused expression.

“I’m Anton,” he broke it down to you in a soft voice, and you gasped a bit. Oh… so that explained the defined abs part. Right, a national swimming champion could have that.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know what you look like,” you explained with a bit of an awkward giggle. Anton’s lips curled into a polite smile, but you could feel that it was a bit forced. Oh right, you should say why you were there!

“I’m Y/N, I write for the school magazine, and we want to interview you for next month’s installment. Would you be up for it?”

The boy looked back at you as if he had never been asked to give an interview even though you were sure that he had given dozens of interviews. At least, that’s what you could imagine with him being on the national team.

“Uhmm… sure,” he half-said, half-asked at this point, and you weren’t sure whether it was out of politeness or not, but you were thankful that he didn’t send you away.

“Cool,” you nodded excitedly, giving him a wide smile. He just looked back at you, and you realised that he had no phone on him, so you couldn’t ask him to exchange contacts. Ah, you should have thought it through before marching up here and asking him if he wanted to do an interview. “I’ll contact you with the details. I’ll come by your classroom… or something like that.

“Okay,” he nodded, water dripping down from his hair.

Since there was no coach around, he must have been practising alone, and you applauded his dedication. You had never stuck with any sport for a long enough time to call it anything serious, and now, you just went to the gym and joined the cardio classes that the school organised, but sometimes even those seemed like a waste of time. You couldn’t imagine how anyone would go through years doing the same sport, building up their performance, but here was a living proof in front of you whose chest you tried so hard to not glance at. Not just because you would be embarrassed but because you had a feeling that he would be, too.

“Okay. I won’t keep you up any longer. Thanks for your time! See you around, I guess,” you blurted out in one-go, and turned around to walk away from him. You were halfway towards the door when you almost slipped, but managed to recover without falling headfirst and making an even bigger fool out of yourself.

Gosh, what a way to make a first impression!

To be very honest, sophomore year went by in a blink of an eye now that the world (or at least the campus) opened up for you a little bit more than before.

You wrote articles for the school magazine, hang out with Dew on campus or off-campus (asking for your parents’ permission, of course, as it was mandatory for underage students when leaving school grounds), kept your friends from home up-to-date with everything that was going on in your life, focused on your studies but also tried out a few activities to see what you actually enjoyed. You even took part in an English Literature competition as well, but didn’t make it to the finals, so there’s that. Your interview with Anton became the article with the most views during the whole school year, so you got a cute little pin by the other members of the school magazine.

When junior year rolled by, the school was in a frenzy because it was about to organise a national swimming competition for the first time in the school’s history. Most students had to take part in the organisation one way or another like printing out timetables, decorating the sports centre, welcoming guests and competitors alike and directing them in the right direction of the campus, or distributing the competition’s merchandise at stalls. The swim meets would be held over the weekend, but due to the preparations, the Friday before was a short school day with classes only until 1pm. Thankfully, since the school magazine was to cover the whole event, you didn’t need to take on more work, you just needed to be there, take pictures and interview people.

You, specifically, had been assigned to interview Anton yet again, but after last time, you had his KKT ID, so you could ask him about the details. You asked him a few questions the day before the competition, and when you inquired if his parents would come to see him, you were a bit surprised to find out that they still lived in New Jersey. Not that you knew his whole bio, but for your first interview, you had gotten to know that his parents were both Korean, but moved to the States before he was born. You assumed that they came back to Korea with him, but it seemed that it wasn’t the case, and for some reason, you found it quite disheartening.

So much that when you were sitting in the spectator area, waiting for the boy and his opponents to walk into the arena for the final heat (because Anton, of course, made it to the finals), you turned to Sullyoon who came to take pictures with you for the school magazine, and asked her:

“Is it okay if I take a video of Anton while you take pictures?”

The girl looked a bit perplexed for a moment, probably not knowing why you suddenly changed your mind. However, she wasn’t one who was too interested in others’ business, so she nodded a few seconds later.

“Sure. It’s fine with me.”

“Thanks,” you beamed, smiling to yourself as you turned back just in time to see the boy walk up to his lane accompanied by his coach. He got rid of his jacket by his chair, exchanged a few words with his couch, and started warming up.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen him swim that day, but somehow, because it was the finals, you felt more nervous. You were aware that he was really good, but still… He seemed calm though, but coming to think of it, he usually seemed calm albeit a bit too shy for someone who was considered famous and popular at school. Sure, the members of the school’s first and only band - consisting of Taesan, Yechan, Gyuvin and Jungwon - were probably the most popular boys in your year, but before they rose to the school-level stardom, Anton was probably the most popular one in your year.

Not that you cared too much about popularity, and he didn’t seem to do so either, he was too busy practising. Though he did practise at school too, he had his coach-led sessions outside of the school, so after classes, he was often seen leaving school grounds, only coming back later at night. You sometimes caught sight of him in the corridor at the student hall, but you didn’t interact a lot, just a few hellos here and a few good nights there. Since he wasn’t in your class, sometimes you wondered if he was as shy around his classmates as he was around you, or maybe it was just because you were a girl.

“Y/N, aren’t you recording?” Sullyoon’s voice brought you back to reality, and you hastily murmured a ‘thanks’ before averting your eyes to the swimming pool where the boy already stood on his block, getting into position.

You unlocked your phone, and turned it horizontally to get the whole view of the pool. Then, you pushed the red button a few seconds before the starting signal was given, and off they went. It was an individual freestyle heat, and it didn’t even take a minute to finish, but it felt so long because you were watching him so intensively, your eyes following him in his lane. He wasn’t in the lead at first, but when he turned around, he quickly diminished the distance between him and the top two swimmers.

“That’s it,” you mumbled under your breath. It was silly, you knew, he couldn’t hear you after all, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t cheer for him loudly when he came in first place.

The arena erupted in loud cheers and applause as everyone was happy to see one of the students win in his category. However, since the girls’ final was still left, you couldn’t move from your place to ask him about his experience. For the school magazine, of course, nothing else.

After the competition came to an end, there was a 30-minute break before the start of the winning ceremony which would be held in the event hall a few minutes away from the sports centre. So you took that time to seek out Anton after checking with him through Kakaotalk that he was free and willing to answer a few of your questions.

The boy’s hair was still half wet when you met him on a bench halfway between the canteen and the student halls. The hustle bustle of the event didn’t reach this side of the campus, but it was still close enough, so he wouldn’t miss the ceremony.

“Hey!” You beamed when you saw him sitting there by himself, his eyes fixated on his phone. He changed into sweatpants and a loose tee, but he still wore his flip-flops. You couldn’t tell whether it was because he forgot to change or because he liked it that way.

“Hi!” Anton greeted you back as he looked up, his lips curling into a half-smile. You could tell that he was tired, but you only had a few questions, so you wouldn’t keep him up too long.

“Congratulations! You did really well. I was truly impressed how you went from third to first place in a matter of seconds,” you shared excitedly, but he just let out a shy little giggle.

“Well… thanks,” he mentioned as he scratched the back of his neck. You just smiled at each other awkwardly until you pulled out your notebook and started asking the questions from him, recording everything on your phone. It was a mere three minutes, so it didn’t take long, but before you would let him go his way, you sent him the video of the finals.

“I’ve taken it, so your parents could see it,” you justified when he just looked back at you with wide, curious eyes. He looked at you as if he couldn’t decipher why you would do such a thing for him even though you thought it wasn’t a big deal. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and when he opened it again, his voice was even softer than usual.

“Thanks. That’s… that’s very kind of you,” he admitted, his words uncertain but genuine.

“Anytime,” you shot him a friendly smile before getting to your feet and bidding goodbye. You had to go back to fetch Sullyoon either way.

Your interview with Anton - compiling questions for him before and after his win at the competition - became the article with the most views again, something that you didn’t fail to share with him when it was announced. You couldn’t say that you were friends as per se, but you did ask how his practice went when you bumped into him at the student hall later at night, and he did ask you about how you had been when you met each other by accident in the school corridor. You knew he already had a lot on his plate, so you didn’t seek out his company more than it was necessary, but you still sent stuff his way when something reminded you of him.

However, that did change when senior year rolled by. With the third week of the new term starting came the announcement of the random draw for the annual sports day. KOZ International High’s sports day was your school’s version of ISAC, and even though you were all coming from influential families and all the students had probably enough money to attend the Olympics games in the VIP section, no one complained about the event. In fact, it was all the school magazine and school radio could talk about for weeks, and everyone tried to put effort into practising for their own games to not lose face.

Each year, all the classes participated in four different categories - mixed 4x100 m relay, archery, swimming and dance -, going up against one another within each year. The only category that allowed students to sign up for was dance as only groups could participate, and they needed to be formed in time to seem somewhat professional. Each year, this was the competition everyone was looking forward to the most since usually professional dancers signed up - like Baekseung, Minwoo and Haruto who always won the dance category in your year. For all the other categories, there was a random draw during homeroom where your teacher announced who would be participating in which category. 

This year, Anton didn’t get selected for swimming unlike last year, but you did. You had been selected for relay twice and archery last year, so this was new. Though you knew how to swim and you actually had swimming lessons in freshman year, your competitive side didn’t let you practise just like everybody else now that you were on speaking terms with Anton. So you asked the boy if he could help you prepare for the competition.

“What do you need help with? Technique, breathwork, nutrition or…?” The boy looked at you expectantly when you asked him about helping you out, and you suddenly realised that you had been so wrong that this would be easy, that your request would be obvious.

“Weeeelll, maybe a bit of everything?” You chuckled nervously. “I really want to win this, so whatever can get me there,” you added with a shrug, and Anton seemed slightly amused but also… endeared? Was that the right word for the look he gave you?

Either way, the boy agreed. You thought that he would just watch you swim once to see where you were and what you needed to work on, but he kept asking you when you would practise, so he could come by. He couldn’t always make it because of his own schedule, but he did show up frequently, giving you tips about your posture, technique, timing and little things that you would have not considered paying attention to before (like your post-workout meal).

He was firm in the way he explained certain things, but he was gentle when it came to show you what he meant, especially when he needed to touch you to correct the angle of your arms or the way you turned your head. You could see that swimming was truly his passion, and he was enthusiastic about helping you out, so he probably didn’t think too much into such tutoring, but there were moments when your faces were so close or his skin touched your skin a bit longer than absolutely necessary, and you felt nervous and giddy and warm all at once. He probably did so too because he stuttered or looked away or asked for a break at times like this.

It was usually late at night when you practised in the pool, so there weren’t other students around, and you tried not to be too self-conscious about this whole thing. However, when Andrew came by to practise for his own competition, and you could feel his eyes on you two for a few minutes in the beginning, you felt a bit nervous.

However, when you asked Anton about it after practice that day, sitting on the edge of the pool, your feet grazing the edge of the water, he said that he wasn’t bothered by it.

“Can I ask you something though?” He inquired, looking at you with those curious brown eyes, and you nodded, prompting him to go on.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way… but why do you want to win the competition so bad?”

“Fair question, really,” you chuckled, airy and light, but sucked in a deep breath before jumping into your explanation. It’s not like it was something to be ashamed of, but you still felt a bit silly for feeling this way. Either way, he deserved to know the truth in exchange for his help.

“I just… I don’t really feel like I’m good at anything here. You know, back in my home country, I was the top student in my class, and at the whole school, too. Here, I’m pretty much average, and as much as I want to say that it doesn’t bother me, it does. There’s always someone who’s better at me in literally everything, so I get joy out of winning anything. Even if it’s our sports day.”

You weren’t sure how someone like Anton who was known for being on the national team would understand what you were feeling, but he seemed to know just the right thing to say.

“You’re good at writing for the school magazine and interviewing people,” he pointed out, his words oozing sincerity. When he looked at you like that and sounded like that, you really did feel good about yourself, but you weren’t sure if he was just trying to make you feel better or he really thought so.

“That’s nice of you to say, but the others are also really good. Minju even won a literary competition.”

To that, he couldn’t say anything. It was a fact. Ever since you had been admitted to KOZ International High, you hadn’t won a single competition. Not that it should have mattered, your parents were happy as it is, but still… going from being known for being smart and an overachiever to being average… it hurt a bit.

“To me, you are the kindest girl I’ve ever met,” the boy confessed gently, quietly, like a secret shared just between you two. “In that sense, you are the first one on my list.”

His words felt warmer than the towel around your body, and you were sure that if you had not just come out of the water a few minutes ago, a blush would surely be creeping onto your face, mirroring your emotions in an obvious way.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently, but you could see that he was also a bit shy with the way he bit down on his lower lip. A habit that you had picked up on before, but up until now, it didn’t make your heart race.

“But you’ve met so many people, right? I mean, you are an athlete.”

“While it’s true that I’m usually surrounded by a lot of people, I don’t actually know them or take notice of them. For instance, when I’m swimming, I focus on the water, the pool and my body. Nothing else,” he shared willingly, his eyes watching the waves his feet made on the surface of the water. “In a way, a lot of people watch me, but they don’t see me. If that makes sense,” he added a bit belatedly, his voice soft as ever.

You’ve never really thought about his swimming career that way. You’ve thought that he met a lot of people and made a lot of friends and connections, but what he was saying made perfect sense. It also made you feel a bit disheartened because after everything he must have been lonely. His parents didn’t come to see him compete, there was always a buzz around him even if he didn’t want it, and he focused on swimming, nothing else.

This thought made you feel even more thankful because he carved time out of his busy days to help you out, and now he even called you the kindest girl he had ever met.

“They don’t see the real you, I get it,” you hummed, slightly shivering at the way his eyes found yours. “I’m glad that I can see the real you though,” you blurted out without thinking ahead, without thinking at all. It was like you were under a spell; locked down, locked in, unable to move.

In that moment, with the melody of Anton’s coy little giggle accompanying you in the swimming arena, you realised what this feeling meant.

You were in love.

You were both nervous and excited for the sports day.

Swimming was at the end of the day because you had the relay runs first, followed by archery and dancing. You went out to watch the competitions, but since they hired a professional photographer for the event, the school magazine members didn’t need to take pictures. Instead, you enjoyed the event, rooted for Dew in the relay run (and with his impossibly long legs, his team won) and Sullyoon and Minju in dancing. You even checked out archery where Anton came in second place after Carlos.

Then, there was a lunch break and the juries for dancing decided on the ranking before announcing the winners as part of the first winner’s ceremony of the day. The involved students and those who were curious then moved to the arena where each year had its swimming competition for the boys and girls alike. Since you went in class order, the seniors were last, and by the time it was your time to get ready, you had been all nerves.

You didn’t expect Anton to be waiting for you in the corridor between the changing rooms and the pools because he had already sent you a good luck message on Kakaotalk (and you had congratulated him on his second place in archery). However, you couldn’t deny that the sight of the boy was enough to put your mind at ease. For a little while, at least.

“Hi!” Anton greeted you with a friendly smile as you halted in front of him, your sports bag thrown over your shoulder. “I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just…” You let out an awkward little chuckle, suddenly all too aware that your voice was anything but stable. “Okay, I’m gonna be honest. I’m very, very nervous,” you added, biting down on your lower lip. It wasn’t even something that would be marked or kept in your school records, and yet, your heart was pounding so loudly, you were slowly going crazy.

“It’s all okay. I get nervous before competitions, too,” the boy admitted, somewhat of a fond smile playing along his lips while he was looking down at you. You looked back at him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe - not just because of his words, but because of his close proximity. Before, you were rarely aware how close he was, but these last few weeks, that’s all you could think about.

Gosh, you were so gone…

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s totally normal. Plus, studies say that adrenaline can actually improve performance,” he explained as an attempt to ease your nerves, and you found yourself smiling for the first time in a while.

“No matter what happens, thanks a lot for helping me out. I owe you a whole lot,” you admitted, and playfully nudged his shoulder. You could see that the boy was a bit taken aback by that, but a few seconds later, his features softened even more than already, and his voice was even quieter than usual.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Anton disagreed gently. His eyes were twinkling with care, the lines of his lips deepening his dimples, a sight that made your heart race. Not out of nervousness, but out of this newly bloomed warm and comforting yet thrilling feeling.

You just stood there in the corridor, looking at each other in silence, getting lost in each other’s eyes. This moment was so precious, you wanted to tuck it into your pocket and never let it go. Yet, life moved on around you even if you were still, and the door to the pools opened, the quiet corridor suddenly filled with laughter and chatter.

Suddenly self-conscious, you mumbled something akin to:

“I should probably go. To get changed and to warm up.”

“Yeah, sure,” the boy nodded, but before you could go your way, he reached out to gently pat your head. Only once and only briefly, but you felt electrified from head to toe either way. “Good luck, Y/N! I’m rooting for you!”

And off he went, his cheeks tinted pink, and as you watched him leave, your hands automatically reached for the top of your head where his hand had previously been. You were woken from your stupor only when Dew showed up and started asking what was that between you and Anton. Though you had told Dew how you had been practising with Anton’s guidance, you had never touched upon how you felt around the swimmer.

“I really don’t know,” you blurted out in all honesty, and Dew looked back at you, all confused. “Do boys act like that with just anyone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then, why do you think he did that?” You asked, hoping that the Thai boy could help you. He was a boy after all, he should know better. On the other hand, Dew merely shrugged his shoulders.

“My guess would be that he likes you, but don’t ask me about stuff like that. I’ve never had any luck with girls,” he justified before you could ask him (rightfully so) whether boys patted a girl’s head that they liked. You thought that maybe having a guy friend would help with your feelings, but it seemed like it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Either way, Dew wished you good luck before he left, but all you thought about was Anton and the way he patted your head. Even when you entered the arena later on, you tried to search for him in the spectator area, but to no avail. There were just too many people, and now it made perfect sense why he said that he was surrounded by a lot of people, but he didn’t take note of them or concentrate on them.

So you did the same, and as you stepped onto your block, you took in a deep breath. You mentally played back all the advice the boy had given you, and told yourself that you would do great. Positive affirmations and all that.

After the starting signal, your body moved on auto-pilot. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t think, just swam and swam, and gave it your all. You now understood what people meant by your surroundings becoming a blur when something happened so fast because it was over before you knew it.

As you emerged from the water at the end of your lane, you took in a few deep inhales before your eyes found the announcement board. You scanned the screen, but your brain couldn’t comprehend the result, not until Daniela in the lane to your right came up to you to congratulate you.

“Congrats, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, still in a daze because… You looked back at the screen, and oh my gosh, you came in first! You did it! You were the winner in your year!

No one was faster than you to get out of the pool and dry yourself, get changed before heading out with your hair still half-wet, searching for a familiar pair of chocolate-brown eyes. You almost gave up when you spotted him just where he had been before he had wished you good luck.

To be honest, you were in a state of heightened excitement that couldn’t be contained, so you weren’t really in your right mind when you ran up to him and just outright hugged him. He was taller than you, so you momentarily pressed your head against his chest in the embrace, and thought it felt odd and new and everything in between, it also felt so right.

You almost let go of the boy when you noticed how still he was, but then, he had his arms around you (uncertain, gentle yet still there), and whispered, so only you could hear:

“You did really well, Y/N!”

And though it was brief and a bit awkward, it was equally heart-fluttering, and even if you tried to deny that you hugged him because you liked him and not because you were thankful for his help, you were lying.

You were oh so gone.

You still couldn’t get over everything that happened on the sports day, but now that you weren’t practising together and you didn’t need to interview him, you didn’t need to face him over the next few days. It helped a bit because your heart was jumping up and down in joy whenever you thought about his words, his head pat and that hug, and you felt like you could burst with all the different kinds of feelings that he brought out in you.

On the other hand, you promised him right after that impromptu hug that you would like to treat him to something as a token of appreciation for his help, and he didn’t protest. So you settled on the following Saturday, but it seemed like time slowed down because every day dragged on, and it was still not Saturday.

Dew even pointed out that though he was no love expert, you really acted like a girl in love (based on the movies and shows he was watching), and you couldn’t deny it anymore. There were even students who came up to you, asking if you were dating Anton because they had seen you two hugging after the competition. You shooed them away, saying that you were just thankful for him because he had helped you prepare for the competition.

You didn’t want to admit it to strangers, of course, but you also didn’t want them to make up rumours about your relationship. Or well, possible relationship. You didn’t ask Anton if he was approached by the same students, and you didn’t want to admit something that maybe only you felt, putting him in a tough spot.

However, you couldn’t deny that you felt like this encounter would be different… like a date or something. It would be the first time you leave school grounds with Anton, and you knew that he only went out for his practices and the necessities he needed. Though you hang out with Dew off-campus, it was different, he really was just a friend, and you were both clear about that.

Therefore, you spent an ungodly amount of time deciding on an outfit because you didn’t have to wear your school uniform or sportswear this time. You also needed to ask your parents to give you permission to go out because you were underage. It was a fairly smooth process with a whole online system set up where your homeroom teacher got a notification when your parents approved your leave, and you could show the approval on your phone to the guards at the gate.

Due to your indecisiveness, you arrived by the gate exactly at the discussed time, and Anton was already there, leaning against a railing. He wore a dark brown coat, currently unbuttoned, that emphasised his long legs and wide shoulders, with a white shirt and dark jeans. His hands were in his pocket, and he was slightly bobbing his head to the music coming from his headphones. He looked like a campus crush in those shows you liked to indulge yourself in, and the thought didn’t exactly help your crazily racing heart.

You were a few steps away when he opened his eyes and noticed you coming up at him. His lips immediately curled into a shy smile, and he took his headphones off to tuck them into his bag. You reciprocated his smile when you halted beside him, and asked him how he was doing while exiting the school and heading towards the bus stop. He said there was a really good restaurant that he liked going to after practices, so you decided on going there.

When he asked about your week, you felt heat rush to your cheeks because well… it seemed like all you had been doing was playing back the events of the sports day and daydreaming about meeting him today.

“Just the usual, really,” you shrugged instead, covering up your lie with a wider smile as you got on the bus.

You automatically sat down in a loveseat, and though his close proximity shouldn’t have surprised you at this point, you still felt your cheeks burn when he sat down beside you. It was different this time though. No matter how many close moments you had shared before, you had never sat beside each other on the bus, and you had never gone off- campus together, so it was new, it was different, and it was very, very exciting.

“What were you listening to, by the way?” You inquired to break the silence, referring to him waiting for you with his headphones on.

“I have this playlist with songs that I like, so I just put it on shuffle.”

“Can I have a listen?” You asked giddily because you really loved music, and you always enjoyed checking out new songs and new artists. However, Anton seemed a bit surprised by your request, and you immediately added that he didn’t have to if he didn’t feel like it.

“No, no, it’s totally okay. I’ve just never had a girl ask me to let her listen to my playlist,” he let you know, coy as ever, before reaching into his bag. You totally expected him to reach out his headphones for you to take it, but instead, the boy leaned closer to you to put it on you, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand while holding the headphones in the other.

You found yourself blinking at him rapidly, your heart beating in your throat, and it felt like it was so loud, he could hear exactly how big of an impact his closeness and gentle touch had on you. On the other hand, he didn’t seem affected by it, instead, he boosted a boyish smile when his eyes caught yours, as if he could see right through you.

You could barely register the first song playing because you were still under his spell, but at least you didn’t have to talk for the next few minutes. Anton played a few of the songs on his playlist before it was your stop, and you gave the headphones back to him, sharing your opinion on his song choices while heading towards your destination.

The restaurant he picked was run by a lovely elderly woman who prided herself on the fact that Anton had been coming by ever since he had been a student at KOZ, and how much he had grown over these years. She seemed very fond of the boy and kept sharing stories about him until she was gently reminded by him that you were here to eat.

“Come on! You’ve never brought a girl here, so I have to take advantage of it,” she called him out on it, and Anton’s face immediately flushed, his eyes fixated on the table instead of anything else in the room.

“He helped me prepare for the sports day at school, and I won first place, so I’m treating him to a meal,” you shared with the old lady who directed a knowing smile in the boy’s direction before her eyes settled on yours again.

“Oh, so you’re that girl! He’s been talking so much about you lately.”

“Ah ahjumma,” he groaned slightly, acting like a sulky little kid with his lips curled downwards and his puppy eyes showing. She held up her hands in defeat before taking your orders and getting started on making the food.

Not gonna lie, you felt really good by the fact that you were the only girl Anton brought here and that he had been talking about you lately. Sometimes, you felt like he was just generally shy around others, and while it was true, you were now more hopeful than ever that his actions towards you meant that he felt the same way about you.

So though the meal was amazing and you had a very nice conversation while having lunch, you couldn’t shake this thrilling feeling off, and those so-called butterflies in your stomach didn’t want to chill. Instead, they made you believe it was now or never, this was your chance to make sure while walking in the nearby park, and so you blurted out:

“Anton, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied calmly, casually, but your next question made him avoid your eyes.

“Would you have said yes to today if it hadn’t been my thank you treat for your help, we just came just because?”

A few seconds of silence settled over the two of you, and the thought crossed your mind that maybe this would not go as you had imagined it. You would be rejected right here and right now, in the middle of this gorgeous park, on this fine Saturday in October, and you would never be able to recover from it.

Instead, the boy halted his steps, and eventually turned towards you, and you automatically did the same.

“Yeah,” he answered in his trademark soft voice, but before you could open your mouth to ask THE question, he beat you to it. “I like you, Y/N.”

Nothing could prepare you for how it would feel to hear those words roll off his tongue - not even this whole week of daydreaming behind you. As the afternoon sunlight shone on him, his eyes seemed to twinkle, and the sight was just too beautiful - he was too beautiful -, you felt like melting under the Sun.

“I like you, too, Anton,” you squealed before you threw your arms around him, and pressed your head against his chest. This time, the boy didn’t hesitate to hug you back, and it was just so heart-shatteringly tender and comforting and soft, your racing heart finally rested.

For it was now not searching for the answer to your question.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

Click here for my RIIZE masterlist!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for RIIZE or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Header taken from the 'Odyssey' trailer video

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[silentbeaves]

Hi! I'm trying to write a fanfic but I'm lacking on hcs for Petra. I was wondering if you'd be ok if I used some hcs of yours? Either way I rlly wanna know what your Petra hcs are :D

Ohh, this one's an interesting one. I totally don't mind anyone using my headcanons because they're not really that interesting, and I don't have too many headcanons that I keep. They mostly remain as little thoughts and ideas before I brush them away cuz I love to keep to canon, but I can totally share some headcanons that have stuck, and some little ideas I've had here and there.

Might not be super organised, but here:

I love to think that Petra is a huge softie at heart (I mean it's almost confirmed atp but like hear me out), but no one has ever been able to pick that lock in her heart to let it out (until Jesse 🥰🥰 we love you Jesse). The only reason why she's so stone cold is because she's been forced to be within her adventures, and probably had bad past experiences opening up to people in the past. But as soon as you can get past that wall of defence, she's one of the most loyal, affectionate, and caring people you'll ever meet.

I like to think that her love language is a mix of gentle physical touch and lots of gifts. But it takes ages for her to get to that point, even with someone she trusts and loves.

I also like to think that her arm brace thing (idek what it is and I've spent ages analysing her design bro what is this woman wearing 💀) was just for fun at first and to function as a brace during adventures, obviously. But then, after the witherstorm arc, she kept trying to cover her left arm because of a scar that was left from her wither sickness. But, she uncovers it when she feels comfortable enough, mostly around Jesse, because she doesn't feel judged when around them.

Onto the more complicated stuff, the idea that Petra holds onto the past, be it by weapons, armour, or memories, is really interesting to me. Why she does it, I don't know, but from experience, it's either hoarding (lol) or a bad past, where she's struggled to keep what she once had (things like friendships, swords that broke (she loves swords she's such a nerd I bet she could name every single sword in existence), bases/homes) So that's kind of a headcanon I have. It also ties into the whole defence she's built up, so she doesn't become attached to people. But I like the idea that she becomes very attached to inanimate objects, like Miss Butter, because they don't skidaddle off and abandon her, unlike people.

I think that part turned more into an analysis, but do what you will.

Tying into the defence thing, I love to headcanon that she plays herself off as more confident and collected than she really is at times. I feel like it's more obvious in the witherstorm arc, where she's sick in the cave, can barely move, yet tells Jesse and the gang she's fine. She does this, not only to brush off the others from bothering her, but to try and convince herself that she's okay.

I also headcanon that, that defence was lowered within S2, because she had opened up more and learned what friends were. Beforehand, she was probably just some reckless mercenary, doing risky trades and stupid things to get the most out of life. She never really cared for other people, only rewards.

A really huge headcanon of mine that I enjoy delving into is that she developed PTSD and anxiety after the witherstorm arc, but hid it far too well for her own good, for ages. I love to think it all came back to bite her after S2.

EP7 is also really interesting for the whole trauma thing. I don't think she was traumatised by the events too much, but a few things got to her. She has occasional false memories and some minor flashbacks to the time she was chipped. Redstone machinery surprisingly doesn't bother her, though. What does bother her is seemingly sentient machines that talk back to you with a level of self-awareness that is just a bit too uncanny for her. For obvious reasons... Good thing her world doesn't have any of that... until Olivi- Ok, this one's kinda funny but I like to headcanon that Petra wasn't as built in S1 compared to S2, like look at the model difference on the arms dude SHE WAS GRINDING BRO LIKE DAAAAAANGGG

I think I have a pretty obvious headcanon (lol) that she's totally in love with female Jesse. Although she pushed it down during the portal arc, I like to think there were a few times where she went, "dang bro.. she's kinda sweet I can't lie...". And yet before this, she never had any interest in relationships or anything, but Jesse changed her just slightly.

These ones below are more like ideas, not really solid headcanons I have, but I still like the thought of them:

I like to imagine she has a resistance to eating rotten flesh because she had to resort to it so many times during adventures where she's gotten lost, or something. The thought of Jesse trying to down rotten flesh and gagging just by being in contact, while Petra is just munching on it like a snack, is hilarious to me.

Another small idea I looooovee a LOT is that Petra and Lukas were good friends before she met Jesse, Axel and Olivia. She probably trusted Lukas the most out of anyone in her life until Jesse swung around.

I'm not sure how useful any of these headcanons are cuz they're kinda minor and don't really affect much unless you're writing something really specific, but yea 🔥😎

If they're not that useful at all, uhhhh I hope you enjoyed reading miss yappertron 3000 talk about petra (and sorry if I may have repeated myself a few times during my yap, my ah ain't checking this over like it's an actual essay ok????)

ummm Ig that's it, SilentBeaver OUT 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🫡🫡🫡

[floorpancakes]

if you think about it in a non shop scenario adult watanuki would be the ceo of wearing a long sleeved minidress with pants. or without pants. without pants also works

[itoshiexx]

when you're mad and use their full name

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t��me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight. 

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 

you were such a good person. 

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?” 

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 

“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 

“fuck…yes.” 

“and you won’t touch me?” 

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.” 

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.” 

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 

“really. if it means that much to you.” 

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 

“maybe.” 

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 

except this time, you’re not as clueless. 

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[littlegrapejuice]

Grid Mum 3 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Triple headers are tiring, especially when you have to take care of both your boyfriend and your grid kids.

Author's Note: okayy ig grid mum is officially a series now haha i fr never would've thought that I'd write anything else than one-shots but I've been surprisingly enjoying it + the love y'all are giving is insane so thank you sm for the support🤍🤍

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

Although you weren’t the one racing, triple headers were more exhausting than you remembered.

It was one thing to just accompany your boyfriend. But it was another to also have to take care of six other people.

First, there was Japan.

Thankfully, there had been the break after China; but when you had arrived in Japan alongside Max, Jack, and Liam, the other rookies had swarmed you. From Kimi asking why he wasn’t invited to fly on Max’s jet – “you were literally in Italy for school”, you had replied – to Gabriel complaining that you were playing favourites, you were definitely not catching a break anytime soon.

So you now had to make sure that everyone managed to get time with you – and Max, although the rookies cared more about you than your boyfriend – each weekend and started organising your own race schedule. You tried your best to equally split your time between the six of them, and asked them to make an effort as well. They couldn’t expect you to always only spend one-on-one time with them, so they agreed to hang out with you in duos or trios. Your main argument had been that this way, they could even see you multiple times during the weekend and that’s how you then easily convinced them.

You had spent half of Friday with Jack, who had been replaced by Alpine’s reserve driver – Ryo Hirakawa – for FP1. Then, after FP2 was Isack and Liam’s turn. They had both managed to get into the top ten during the practice, so you decided to take them out after their work day was over.

“Is it okay with you two if Max isn’t here?” You eventually asked them, as you were nearing the paddock’s exit.

“Because he was supposed to be here?” Liam wondered. “I thought you were the one we were spending the evening with.”

“Well, yes.” You let out a chuckle at Liam’s assumption. “It was the plan indeed, but I just felt like telling you in case you had expected him to come too.”

“Trust me, we’re perfectly fine with only you. We see Max way too often anyways”, Isack added.

“I swear”, you agreed with a laugh. “That man is everywhere, it’s crazy.”

“Plus, his team isn’t really that good. Racing Bulls is better, right?” Isack teased.

“Totally agree. Red Bull is mid, honestly. I mean, you both did better than him in FP2 so I’m with the real champions right now.”

Liam and Isack both knew that you were joking, as Max was obviously a better driver than them, but they liked that you were still supporting their small victories in Red Bull’s sister team. They had heard from the other rookies about your hatred slight dislike of Max’s team, but it was still unexpected to actually hear you talk about it.

“But I’m for real proud of you both, you know.” Your tone was now a bit more serious, to show them that you were being genuine. “You boys are rookies and it’s your first full season in F1; so compared to your first race, I know you’re already improving and you’ll achieve great things in the future.”

You meant every word. Simply from the fact that they were part of the world’s twenty best drivers, you were certain of their bright future. They had both earned their seats, and nothing would ever take that away.

You thought of the first race of the season, not even a month ago. They had unfortunately both DNFed the race. You remembered leaving the Red Bull garage back then, making your way to the Racing Bulls one after Isack had to give up his first F1 race during the formation lap. You had seen on the cameras that Lewis’s dad had found him on his way back to the paddock and had consoled him, which you also did when Isack eventually reached the Racing Bulls location. You hadn’t hesitated one second to offer him a loving hug, which he had reciprocated as you rubbed his back before letting him go to his family while you went back to Red Bull. Way later in the race, Liam had also been a victim of the rain and you had offered your support to him as well.

And now, you were able to see their improvement. Even though Liam had been demoted back to Racing Bulls, you felt that he was more comfortable there. He and Isack made a good duo, which seemed to benefit them both as you observed their new dynamic during the rest of the day.

Two happy rookies for now, four left.

…..

For this one, you left the other rookies no choice but to accept that you would solely be focusing on Jack. He was definitely not having the best weekend for now: replaced in FP1, he only had two sessions to test the car in Suzuka before qualifying. However, an unlucky DRS issue had led him to crash into the barriers during FP2 which meant that he only had FP3 left to make the most of the car.

He had understood your absence yesterday after FP2, when you had sent him a supportive message and offered him to spend Saturday morning with you. So now here you were, having breakfast with Jack before FP3 was to happen. Fortunately, he had confirmed to you that he was physically fine after his crash from the day before even though he could be feeling better mentally, and told you that the car had been fixed for him to drive today.

“Please, always remember that you are more important than the car. Alpine can make another one, but I don’t think your parents could remake you.”

“I know…” he replied. “I just– I still need to prove myself out there. I have Franco’s fans after me, and four fucking reserve drivers waiting for me to slip up. I can’t afford to fail after everything I did.”

“Jack, we’re only on race three. Out of twenty-four,” you reminded him. “I know the pressure is insane right now, but you know your worth – I know your worth. It’s not abnormal that you’re here, racing at the pinnacle of motorsports. You’ve been chosen because you deserve the seat, and even shitty Alpine knows that you’re capable of succeeding.”

Jack stayed silent for a couple minutes, taking in your words.

“Thanks… it means a lot to me. My whole family is behind me, my friends too; but they obviously support me because of our relationships.” He pondered on how to word his next train of thought. “But you, well… you’re not forced to have this opinion of me. So, it’s really worth a lot to know what you think.”

Jack could have cried. You knew he would have. But he still wanted to be strong, especially with you there as you had this high opinion of him. You weren’t giving him the same pressure that he felt everytime he stepped foot in the Alpine car. No, this was good pressure. He wanted to impress you, and the best thing about it? He knew that you would never hold it against him, and never be disappointed with his results.

The rest of your breakfast was spent in a light-hearted atmosphere, before it was time for you both to go to the track. Jack would be getting in the car with some weight off his shoulders, all thanks to you, and he eventually managed to be P14 despite the little amount of time he’d had in the car this weekend.

…..

Qualifying had been the easiest moment for you to split your time between the rookies. You had first begun to watch Q1 in Max’s garage – turns out he had slightly been jealous of you playing grid mum to the rookies and thought that you hadn’t spent enough time in girlfriend mode – before making your way through the other garages depending on who would not take part in the next session.

Both Jack and Gabriel had been eliminated in Q1, so here you were with them at Alpine. The three of you were watching Q2 together, and sharing opinions on who had the best shot at getting pole for tomorrow’s race. Your bet was – obviously unbiased – on Max while the two rookies were thinking that either McLaren would get it, given that Lando and Oscar had both topped the practice sessions.

Not long after, you were joined by Liam who had ended up P14. You had texted him about your whereabouts when you saw on TV that he was out in Q2, offering him to come spend the remaining time of the qualifying session with you and the two other rookies. Safe to say, he had wasted no time in reaching your location after a brief exchange with his team and one quick interview – actual debriefs wouldn’t happen until after qualifying ended as a whole, so he was in the clear to wander around until then.

You congratulated him on his performance in the Racing Bulls car, and asked him if he wanted to take part in your betting pole pool. None of you had put actual money whatsoever on the driver you each had chosen, the prize simply being some bragging rights over the others. It was all done in a friendly atmosphere as the four of you then spent the rest of Q3 together, and got a couple looks as people wondered about your weird little family hanging out in Alpine when only one driver was actually part of the team.

…..

When qualifying was over, you waited for your boyfriend to come and get you. He wasn’t really thrilled with the idea of having to enter Alpine, and the both of you knew that you were taking advantage of it. Still, you agreed to meet him outside in the paddock. What you hadn’t expected though, was that behind Max were three other people. And the look on Max’s face as half of the rookies followed him to where you had been waiting for him was hilarious, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth.

“You know you’re being stalked right now?” You teased Max when he was finally in front of you.

“Said they wanted to file a complaint,” he explained as he pointed to the three drivers behind him. “But I told them to directly speak to you, so they tagged along.”

“We do have a complaint,” Kimi confirmed. “We” – as in him, Ollie, and Isack – “feel like you’ve spent more time with the others, especially me and Ollie. Isack had yesterday with you, but still.”

Ollie nodded beside him, as a way to confirm his words.

“And I’ll agree with you.” You weren’t about to gaslight those kids and tell them that they were overreacting – they were kind of dramatic, but it was endearing. “I’ll remind you that the weekend isn’t over yet, so we still have tomorrow.”

The rookies stayed silent, waiting for you to continue, and nodded to show that they were listening. Beside you, Max was weirdly invested in the ‘drama’ as it was kind of funny how the rookies had come to like you even more than him.

“Tell you what: whoever brings me some points tomorrow, we’ll spend time together after the race. And if you’ll authorise me, I’ll celebrate my boyfriend’s pole tonight. It’s been a while since he’s been performing well, and I don’t want him to get depressed.”

The offer seemed to satisfy them, as they all agreed to those terms.

“I’m still here,” Max reminded. “I can hear you.”

“Oh, I know. Does that mean you don’t want to spend the evening with me?” You argued, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t put words into my mouth.” Max sighed, but he still had that familiar smile on his face. “I’d love to spend the night with you”, he sarcastically added while sneaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Okay, we don’t wanna know more. We’re gonna go”, Ollie said as he grabbed Kimi’s shoulders and motioned for the other rookies to follow him.

“Max!” You exclaimed as you slapped his chest. “You traumatised our kids!”

“We could still find new ones?” He suggested.

“Not in F1, though!”

“There’s still Lando, I don’t know.” Max shrugged before he had an idea. “Or we can make our own.”

“Win tomorrow’s race and I’ll consider it”. You wouldn’t consider it, but what Max didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Oh, I’ll win it alright. I just had some new extra motivation,” he bragged with a smug smile on his face before leading you away from goddamn Alpine and back to Red Bull.

…..

And the motivation did seem to have a positive impact on Max, as he had crossed the finish line in P1 – his first win since the 2024 Qatar Grand Prix. You obviously knew that Max had won all thanks to his racing talent, but he still teased you about your comment from yesterday when he went to hug you after getting out of his car.

“Have you considered ditching the kids and having our own?” He asked you in between kisses.

“Nice try, but I’ve grown too attached to them so it’s too late now.”

“Fair enough”, he replied. Max gave you one last quick kiss before going to share his win’s happiness with the rest of his team.

The joy on his face was contagious, and you couldn’t help the matching smile that appeared on your face. Max would have a tough season, but he had shown that he wouldn’t give up that easily and that he was still capable of greatness even with both McLaren against him.

Speaking of great things, you were also over the moon due to three of your grid kids managing to get points today. The ones who had gotten into Q3 yesterday had succeeded in finishing the race in the top ten – that is to say Kimi in P6, Isack in P8, and Ollie in P10. You were especially proud of Isack as he had scored his first points as an F1 driver.

So that’s why you were now collecting everyone from their respective garage. You had told Max that you would come back to Red Bull with the rookies, and he agreed to wait. He had planned to celebrate with the team tonight, but he thought that it would still be nice to spend time with you and the rookies before going out to party.

After a quick trip to Haas, Mercedes, and Racing Bulls, you had the three drivers around you and you all walked back to Red Bull where Max was waiting for you. Obviously, race talk was to be expected as soon the four drivers were reunited. So you all began to discuss today’s highlights – there weren’t that many if someone asked you, except for Alex’s radios.

“The only impressive thing about today is Max winning four times in a row here,” you stated. “Y’all didn’t really give me an interesting race.”

“But we all got points!” Kimi argued. “That’s the main achievement. And I also led the race for a while!”

“Of course, and I’m very proud of you! The race as a whole was just… very reminiscent of a certain track where nothing happens.”

“Monaco?” The rookies all wondered, to which you nodded.

“I mean, Monaco last year was actually a bit more entertaining than usual. There were a couple crashes,” Max reminded.

“Says the guy who should have brought his pillow. You’re just saying that because Charles finally won his home race.”

“God forbid a guy is happy for a friend”, Max sighed with a shrug.

Stopping in your tracks, you were left speechless. The drivers kept walking for a few seconds until they noticed that you were behind them, looking at Max like he had grown another head.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked.

“Who taught you that?” You knew the trend from spending way too much time on TikTok, but why did your boyfriend know it too?

“Gabriel and I did”, Isack proudly claimed. “Before the parade, we were just exchanging ideas for our teams’ content.”

“It’s very educational,” Max said. “Maybe I should spend more time around the youth.”

“You act like you’re fifty, mate.” Ollie’s words made you laugh. “But we can fix that tonight; teach you more about social media.”

“I feel like you’re gonna ask me to film a stupid trend at the end of the night.”

“Never”, you reassured him. “As long as you pay the bill.”

“Be careful with the headline: Max Verstappen’s girlfriend is a gold digger and forces him to pay for her at the restaurant.”

You had seen Max laugh in the years that you had been together; seen him chuckle, burst out laughing; or just a sarcastic laugh. But the one he let out at this moment after Kimi’s words, was almost one of a kind. It was the genuine laugh, the one that took over Max within a second and left him breathless.

Max put his arm around Kimi’s shoulder, and you knew at that moment that this was it: Max was as smitten as you with the rookies, and he would never let them go from now on.

…..

When you arrived at the restaurant where you had booked a table, Max had come back to linger by your side for a bit as a waitress led the rookies to the table.

“They’re great kids,” he simply stated. “Don’t think I can be apart from them now.”

“You didn’t really have a choice from the moment that you started taking them under your wing. Should’ve thought about it before you became a role model for them.”

“More like they chose me as their own”, Max clarified.

“Except for Isack.”

“Except for Isack”, Max repeated with a chuckle. “Can’t compete with Lewis on this one.”

But honestly, even if the rookies had other favourites, the bond they were creating with Max was one of a kind; and you were glad to be able to be part of it.

When you and Max reached your table, the rookies were all sitting down and already looking at the menus. They asked about what you were planning to eat, comparing who had the most similar taste to yours. They even offered to share some of their food with you, after they had seen that you had taken a few bites from Max’s plate. And only when you reached dessert, did they realise that Max was still with them.

“You’re okay just spending the evening with us?” Ollie wondered.

“Yeah, didn’t you want to celebrate with your team?” Kimi added.

Looking at Max, you were carefully awaiting his reply. You hadn’t commented on it when you saw the time pass, and he was still peacefully enjoying his meal.

“Well…” Almost nervous to have been put on the spot, Max took a few seconds before answering. “I’ve won so many races already; doesn’t hurt to skip one celebration.”

He tried to pretend like he was indifferent to this, but you knew better. And Max knew that you knew when he caught you softly smiling at him, mouthing ‘liar’.

“Or maybe you just enjoy spending time with us”, Isack jokingly suggested.

“Yeah, maybe… must be that,” Max kind of confirmed.

But it was that. Max did currently enjoy spending his evening with you and your grid kids more than he would have enjoyed going out to party with his team. And if you weren’t already completely in love with this man, then you sure as hell were now.

_________________________________________________

Then, there was Bahrain.

To avoid having jealous rookies, Max had offered them all to fly on his private jet from Japan – safe to say, no one had refused the offer. Liam and Jack didn’t hesitate to remind the others that they had done this before, a smug smile on their faces as they confidently roamed around the jet when everyone got on.

“Okay, so this is where I sat last week”, Liam proudly announced as he pointed to a seat. “Jack was right there, and–”

“Mate, shut up. We don’t need you to play tour guide”, Kimi complained.

“Yeah, we’ll be just fine without you…” Ollie added as he side eyed the Kiwi driver. He approached what Liam has described as his seat, and took it as his own. “Though, I gotta admit this one is comfortable indeed.”

“That was where I was planning to sit, Ollie. You can choose somewhere else”, Liam nicely suggested.

“Don’t see your name written there”, the Brit said as he pretended to look around.

“Oh my God… I swear I’ll run you off track,” Liam threatened with a sigh before he went to sit a couple rows behind.

“I don’t want anyone to threaten anyone, please. I won’t hesitate to leave you stranded in Japan,” you warned the rookies. “Is that clear?” Your gaze stayed longer on Liam and Ollie than on the others, hoping that they would get the message.

“Yes Mum,” they all replied in unison. Their tone was definitely sarcastic, as a few of them rolled their eyes along with a smile.

“Be careful with how you speak to her,” Max told the rookies as he went to stand beside you. “You’re on my jet, you respect my girl.”

“We’re being respectful!” Kimi claimed, to which the other rookies nodded.

“Suddenly, you’re all getting along when it’s to be united against us. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, though.” You sat down across Ollie, getting comfortable. “Everyone sit please, I think we’re taking off soon.”

“Yeah, buckle up kids.” Max motioned for the rookies to find a seat, before he confirmed to the cabin crew that they were good to go.

The flight would be a long one like the previous week when you flew to Japan, so you really hoped that you could manage to keep everyone entertained. It honestly didn’t take long for all the drivers – Max included – to find something to do, and you were glad to be able to do your own thing.

You always brought a couple books with you when you were accompanying Max to his races, as you could take advantage of the numerous flights done throughout the season to at least finish several series in a short amount of time. So as usual, you were pulling out your current book and looked forward to finishing it. Last time you had paused your crime novel, you were in the middle of the investigation and making crazy theories – that you sometimes annoyed Maw with – about who the killer could be.

…..

An hour later, you were finally closing your book and putting it down on your lap. Similar to most of the crime novels you would read, you hadn’t predicted who the murderer had been even though it was making so much sense when the detective explained it.

While you unlocked your phone to add your finished book to Goodreads, you could feel a gaze on you. And when you looked up from your phone a couple minutes later, your eyes met Kimi’s. You gave him a smile, silently asking if he needed anything. He took that as a sign to stand up and walk up to you, his face showing some stress.

“Can I bother you with something?” He shyly asked, afraid that he was disturbing your peace. He had waited for you to finish your book before even having the nerves to come up to you.

“Of course, Kimi. How can I help?”

“Are you good at maths?”

“Maths?” You repeated. Kimi nodded and you thought for a second. “I think I can manage high school level, yeah. Want me to look at it?”

The bright smile that made its way on Kimi’s face was almost enough to blind you. He was so relieved at your positive reaction, and he immediately handed you his textbook.

“Take my seat, Kimi.” Max slowly stood up as he motioned for the Italian to replace him next to you.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Max ran his finger through his hair, as his eyes settled on the back of the jet. “I’m gonna stretch my legs a bit and get a drink, you guys want anything?”

Both you and Kimi shook your heads. Kimi then took Max’s seat, and observed you as you were reading the maths problem he was having issues with.

“Show me what you’ve done for now,” you said before Kimi also gave you his notes. You looked back and forth between what he had written and the exercise, before you managed to pinpoint what was confusing him. “Okay, got it!”

For the next couple hours, you worked with Kimi on his maths exercises as he showed you his method which you would correct when necessary. He was not a dumb kid, far from it, but he just needed someone else other than his high school teacher to explain things to him. You were definitely not a teacher yourself, but it seemed that your way of seeing things was close enough to Kimi’s. Therefore, he was gradually understanding his lesson better and was able to do his calculations a bit quicker than before as he more easily knew which formula to use.

You didn’t know whether you had just gotten the title of Kimi’s official maths tutor or not, but the esteem that the young driver had for you had exponentially risen and you were definitely his favourite person from now on. He thanked you at least a dozen times, as he was over the moon that he would not get behind his classmates while he was racing around the world.

Although glad that you had been able to help him, you were thankful that Kimi was the only driver who still had school as you didn’t know if you would survive parenting and teaching all the rookies at the same time.

…..

A short layover to breathe some fresh air, several chaotic card games, and a couple naps later: you were finally landing in Bahrain.

You already knew that the race weekend was starting more peacefully than the last one, as all your grid kids were leaving the plane on equal terms. This meant that the rookies would be less grumpy about having to split your time between them.

On Friday, you spent the first half of the day with Ollie. He was being replaced with Haas’s reserve driver – Ryo Hirakawa – for FP1 and was therefore “free to hang out with you” as he happily told you. His notion of being free wasn’t exactly the same as you, especially when he actually spent the first half hour of FP1 at the pit wall. Still, he eventually took the time to be there with you in his garage during the second half. He introduced you to the mechanics, showed you his driver’s room, and tried to make you spill secrets about Red Bull with some engineers.

You had a good time, and you truly enjoyed seeing more of Ollie in his ‘racing habitat’. You had always spent most of your weekends in the Red Bull garage since you started dating Max, so this was a nice change. Haas was another type of family, maybe – definitely – friendlier than what you were used to with Christian Horner and Helmut Marko. You even had the opportunity to meet Laura, the first and only female engineer in Formula 1, after the session had ended. You were glad to talk a bit with her, and you could only express your admiration towards the fact that she had reached the pinnacle of motorsport.

Eventually, Max called you to know about your whereabouts and suggested that you have a late lunch with him. He then had no choice but to accept when you answered his call on speaker with Ollie beside you, the rookie asking to join you. He also had to agree to Kimi tagging along when you and Ollie met him on your way back to Red Bull.

Fortunately for Max, the two rookies were needed back to their respective garages earlier than expected due to their lack of racing during FP1. So now, he could properly enjoy some alone time with you.

“I know you pretend to be annoyed with them, but you actually love spending time with them.”

“I only put up with it because you love spending time with them.” That was a lie, and the both of you knew it. “I can admit they’re growing on me, but I’m allowed to want to hangout with my girlfriend during the races. Alone.”

“We’re always together outside of races though,” you pointed out.

“Except when we do overtime”, Max added.

“Overtime?” You stifled a laugh. “You act like it’s a full-time job to take care of them.”

“It is a full-time job to be parents.”

“So you admit to being their grid dad?” You teased him.

“Step-dad, maybe…” He reluctantly admitted. “You’re the one who adopted them, I’m just accepting my fate because I’m dating you.”

“You’re unbelievable! You’re the one who began taking them under your wing during testing!”

You were appalled at Max’s refusal to admit of being the one who started this entire thing, until you noticed the smirk on his face. That damn smirk, you thought. That damn smirk that meant that Max was just toying with you, enjoying the fact that he could rile you up anytime.

“You’re just fucking with me”, you concluded.

“Of course I am,” he confirmed with a laugh. “I know what I did. And I absolutely know that I can’t pretend not to enjoy spending time with them. They’re indeed a bit overwhelming sometimes when I just wanna be alone with you, but they’re nice kids and I can’t argue with their passion.”

“You’re just a softie, Max. Who would’ve thought?” You wanted to tease him; but deep down, you were just melting at how sweet Max was. He had truly grown attached to the rookies, as much as you did, and it warmed your heart. “Wait, so you wouldn’t mind if we adopt some more? I have some names to suggest.”

“Please no,” Max immediately refused. “Six is more than enough.”

“But I’m sure they’re nice kids too!” You tried to plead your case, doing the best that you could at giving puppy eyes to Max.

“No”, he refused once again. But after a minute of silence, he eventually asked: “Just out of curiosity, who are you thinking of?”

“Luke and Dino”, you told him with a satisfied smile.

Max pretended to think about it for a moment, grabbing a bite of his food. You were thoroughly watching him, and waited for his reply. Eventually, Max sighed and you knew you had won.

“Maybe when they’re in F1, you can ask again…” He mumbled before you quietly cheered with a fist pump. Max softly smiled at the scene, and shook his head when he realised what he had just promised you.

He now just had to hope that there wouldn’t be any new rookies for at least a few years.

…..

The rest of the weekend was quite uneventful, the only thing worth noting was the insane heat that had you always carrying an iced drink wherever you went. You had been envying Mercedes’s space jacket that seemed to be doing wonders for Kimi and George, which almost made you go to their garage to ask for one.

Max wasn’t having the best weekend, which was a slight disappointment for him and his team after his superb race in Japan last week. On Saturday, the Dutch driver had only managed to reach the fourth row. He was two tenths off Lando and six tenths off Oscar – who had gotten pole, which was highlighting the fact that Red Bull was not going to have a flawless season. Even Kimi had qualified higher than him, getting P5 after a small penalty that made him lose a position post-qualifying.

The other rookies were scattered across the rest of the grid: Jack and Isack would start right outside points; while Liam, Gabriel, and Ollie had not made it to Q2. You had offered extra support to Ollie, who would start dead last, and encouraged him until the day of the race.

It seemed to have positively affected him, as he gained ten positions during the race and ended up being the only rookie to score points in Bahrain. Max had only reached P6 at the chequered flag, far from the podium he had been used to being on. He knew he had no choice but to accept that this could be a reoccurring performance from his car, and could only hope to keep getting the most out of it to still be a podium contender for the next race.

After the post-race interviews, you wanted to celebrate with Ollie as you were over the moon at his performance and his working strategy that had accommodated the safety car. But you knew he was with his father and brother, so you decided to let him have some family time.

However, you hadn’t thought about the fact that you were now like family to him as well. Because as you were waiting near the Red Bull hospitality for Max to finish his interviews – he was weirdly always in very high demand from every channel when he missed out on a podium, you saw the Bearman men walking up to you.

Ollie was frantically waving at you, yelling at his father and brother to keep up.

“She’s there, come on! Be quicker”, he ordered them as his long legs made him reach you faster than his family.

“Ollie, hi sweetheart!” You went for a hug, rubbing his back. “What a great race you did, I’m super proud of you!”

“Thanks,” he replied with a bright smile. He noticed his family finally there, and introduced you to them. “So this is my dad, and my brother Thomas. Guys, this is–”

“We know”, Thomas interrupted with a deadpan tone. He said your name and reached out his hand for you to shake. “He already talked a lot before, but now he talks even more when it’s about you.”

“Don’t be rude to your brother”, his dad scolded. “Sorry about him. But he’s right, we’ve heard lots about you.”

“Oh! All good things I hope,” you said with a nervous chuckle as you also shook Ollie’s dad’s hand.

“Of course, Ollie just loves telling us about you and your boyfriend spending time with him. It’s honestly reassuring to know he has you if we’re not there for him.”

“Well, I love Ollie – Max does too. So, it’s really my pleasure to have him around.” You were being genuine, and Ollie’s dad could only approve of you being a new adult figure in his son’s life. “You have a good kid, sir. Extremely respectful and really passionate,”, you told him as you softly looked at Ollie.

Ollie couldn’t have expected a better encounter between his dad and his grid mum. His eyes were bright and his smile wide, happy to have made his two families meet.

“Do you want to join us for a late dinner?” Ollie’s dad offered. “You can bring Max as well if he wants too.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. But I wouldn’t want to impose!” You wanted to refuse, but another glance at Ollie and you saw how hopeful his expression was.

“Just a drink then?” Ollie’s dad suggested, to which you nodded.

“Great!” Ollie cheered. “Call Max and get him here ASAP,” he told you.

“Jeez, calm down. It’s almost like you’re more excited to see him than me now”, you teased.

“Well, he’s the world champion.”

“And here I thought you were starting to like me better!”

As you bickered back and forth while texting Max to know his whereabouts, Ollie’s dad observed the exchange and he could only smile at the scene. It was easy for him to notice your motherly nature, gentle and caring. He knew his son was in good hands around the paddock, and he was truly glad to see that Ollie was surrounding himself with good people that could be trusted.

_________________________________________________

Finally, there was Saudi Arabia.

You had seen the pictures of some drivers arriving at the airport. And you had witnessed how welcomed they were when you arrived with Max. Like everyone else, he had been gifted a massive bouquet of flowers that you would have been jealous of if anyone other than the grand prix staff had given it to your boyfriend.

As soon as you left the airport before taking a taxi to your hotel, Max immediately gave you the flowers. One could have thought that it meant he just wanted you to take them as Max was already holding your suitcases, but you knew better.

Without a word, you understood what Max meant. He was just offering you the bouquet. For him, it meant more sense for you to have it. The flowers were pretty, like you, and he just felt like you deserved them more than he did. Also, it meant that Max could see a smile slowly making its way on your face and that was worth more than anything else in the world to him.

…..

As soon as you entered your hotel room, your first instinct was to lay on the bed with a relieved sigh. Max was supposed to be at the track soon, and your only wish was to take a nap.

“I really need to get used to triple headers again. That shit is exhausting,” you complained.

“Just rest,” Max simply told you. “I’ll come back after I’m done with media day and we can go out to eat, is that good?”

“That’s a great plan, yeah.” You turned on your side, ready to fall asleep at any second.

Max softly smiled at you, and hoped that you would be able to get some energy back for the weekend. He closed the curtains a bit before leaving the room, hearing you thank him as he was about to open the door while you were quickly getting into a deep slumber.

When you woke up several hours later, the sun was starting to set. You yawned and stretched your arms before getting up, noticing Max on the couch a few metres away. He looked up from his phone when he heard the sheets rustling from your movements.

“Slept well?” He asked. He actually knew the answer already, due to you not having heard him get back as well as the pillow marks on your face.

“Best nap of my life, top ten easily. When did you get back?” You glanced at your watch, before taking a seat next to Max.

“Half hour ago, I think. Maybe forty minutes. Wanna get some food now or do you wanna do something else?”

“Food sounds perfect right now, I’m starving. I think I could go for…” Your voice got lower as something in your peripheral vision confused you.

“For?” Max repeated, expecting you to finish your sentence.

“What’s that?” You were now forgetting all about food, your gaze focused on the table near the windows.

“What’s what?”

“The flowers.”

“You mean the flowers from this morning? Yeah, what about it?”

“Why did one bouquet turn into seven?” You could have thought you were going crazy, but you were certain Max had only given you his bouquet earlier today.

“Oh, that’s just the rookies.” Max was acting as if it was a normal occurrence, leaving you speechless.

“They gave me their bouquet?”

“Yeah. Apparently they saw pictures of me giving you mine and they felt like you deserved theirs too,” he explained. “They all accompanied me to drop them off when I came back here.”

“Oh, okay…” You felt like crying. Why are those kids so sweet? You wondered. Even if they thought you deserved their flowers, you definitely didn’t deserve their kindness.

“Are you gonna think about it every day for the next week?”

“Absolutely,” you confirmed with a chuckle. “You know me so well – that’s for real so nice of them, I love them.”

“And they definitely love you too”, Max added.

After admiring the seven bouquets adorning the table for a few more minutes, you took a picture of the scenery and decided to make a groupchat with all the rookies to thank them for their thoughtfulness.

You didn’t know it yet though, but the groupchat would never experience a day of silence from the moment it got created. That’d be for you to enjoy – and for Max to dread whenever your phone would notify you of a text – as the rookies were definitely certified yappers.

…..

If you thought the heat had been too much in Bahrain, it was somehow worse here. You were extremely thankful for night races, but you were definitely not built for extreme temperatures and were already dreading Singapore months in advance.

Like the previous weekend, you were therefore holding a refreshing drink at every given moment and gladly sipped it. Max had stocked up for you in his driver’s room, but you had to discover that there was only Red Bull. Was Max trying to kill you? Perhaps. Was Max trying to kill himself? More likely.

But you just couldn’t be drinking that for the entire weekend. So on Friday evening, you ventured around the paddock to look for something else and met Gabriel on your way. He was unfortunately unable to take part in FP2 due to a fuel leak, and you offered him to join you on your quest for a decent drink.

“Sauber has surprisingly good stuff, if you want” Gabriel pointed out.

“I don’t wanna risk seeing Binotto, though. What about sneaking into McLaren?” You suggested. “The champions must have something nice.”

“You mean other than a life supply of Monster? Is it actually better than Red Bull?”

“Well, technically I do prefer it. Don’t tell Max though,” you whispered with a chuckle. “But yeah, I guess that means Mercedes is out too.”

Eventually, you and Gabriel ended up getting basic tap water somewhere random in the paddock as you were both too thirsty to spend more time deciding where to go.

It was rare for you to spend one-on-one time with Gabriel, but you were glad to get to know him more – you truly hadn’t spent as much with him as you did with the other rookies. Max had always told you about how he held the Brazilian driver in high regards, and you could easily understand why. Gabriel was easy to get along with, and you really hoped that he would one day be able to show his full potential to the world. He had won the F3 and F2 championships back to back, but was unfortunately in the worst car of the grid now that he was in F1. He was still waiting to get his first points of the season, and you were definitely rooting for him to score some before the end of the year.

It still wouldn’t be his weekend yet as once again, he had qualified P20 on Saturday. And although he had gained two positions the next day, he was still last in the race due to Pierre and Yuki both DNFing. Jack didn’t have the best end of a grand prix either as he finished right above Gabriel, both having been lapped during the race by the leaders. Ollie and Liam had been a bit closer to reaching the top ten, but only Isack and Kimi had actually scored points.

You wished you could have spent your post-race time with the rookies to congratulate the point scorers and cheer the others up, but you felt like Max needed the support more despite having finished on the podium. He had gotten P2, bringing some good points to the team. But it wasn’t enough for him – he should have been first at the chequered flag.

Max was pissed. He was mad about the unfair penalty, mad about the FIA, mad about everything. He had refused to say more than two words during the post-race interviews of the top three, and didn’t even participate in celebrating the papaya drivers on the podium – he had preferred to immediately down his fake champagne as if it were a real one.

You knew that it wouldn’t last. Maybe he would throw some snarky reminders during the next grand prix and complain about it for a couple days, but then he would get over it because it would annoy him even more to keep thinking about it.

So you did what a loving and supportive girlfriend would do: you waited for him to come back to his garage, sitting on the couch in his driver room. He was glad to see you when he entered the room, and even more so when you gave him a kiss.

One turned into two, and you were soon ready to give Max the best makeout session of his life. You really thought you would’ve stayed there all night with him until some Red Bull mechanics would force you out as they were dismantling everything. But that was until he was the one to cut it short with one last quick kiss before he let go of your waist. You reluctantly removed your arms that had been around your boyfriend’s shoulders, and waited for him to say something while he had begun to change from his racing suit.

“Text the kids, we’re going out as soon as I’m out of this.”

“The kids?” You questioned.

“The kids,” Max confirmed with a nod. “Tell them we’ll do whatever they wanna do, whether it’s having the biggest post-race dinner of their lives or just doing something fun – ask them if they wanna check out one of the amusement parks near the track.”

“Wow, okay.” You let out a chuckle, not expecting Max to suggest that. You did as you were told, and texted the rookies about Max’s idea.

Anyone free to go to an amusement park?

Max is offering (and probably paying)

Safe to say, replies were sent almost instantly. The rookies were all happy to see that you were the one texting, and they got even happier when they actually read the content of your messages. The smile that was forming on your face was enough of a confirmation to Max, as he knew that you had definitely received positive answers.

“All good?” Max asked you, to which you nodded. “Okay, let’s go then. I don’t wanna see or talk to anyone else here so let’s get the hell out of here before I go insane.”

“Yes sir,” you answered before following Max until you were out of the garage and walking towards the track exit.

When you were finally out of the paddock, you notified the rookies of your whereabouts then sent them your location so that they could find you and Max more easily. Soon enough, the six rookies had joined you and you could all go check out the nearest amusement park.

…..

You had been at the Atallah Happy Land Park for almost two hours, having already gone on several rides – the first having obviously been bumper cars. It was unusual to see Max being so carefree and relaxed around other people than you, but it seemed that the rookies got this effect on him – on anyone actually. Max was just having fun, enjoying the night.

Right now, you were currently on a bench. You were sipping a drink Max had insisted on buying you after you had made a comment about the heat still being too much for you. Your eyes were carefully observing the drivers from a few metres away. Max was in the middle of organising the order in which he and the rookies would do the next rides, based on how long the queues were and how far the rides were from each other.

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face, as you thought about how lucky you were to have Max in your life. He was being so attentive to the six drivers around him, listening to all of them, and treating them like they were his equals. He was just glad to make them happy tonight, because it made him happy too.

Checking something on your phone, you didn’t notice someone approaching until they were right in front of you. You looked up at the sight of unknown shoes, and met the eyes of a random man. You raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he needed anything.

“Hi! I couldn’t help but notice you were sitting all alone here,” he said. “So I thought you might need company.”

The guy wasn’t necessarily creepy or making you uncomfortable – he seemed nice and had a gentle smile, but you wondered if he would eventually notice that seven F1 drivers were now looking in your direction.

“I’m not here alone, though.” You glanced at where Max and the rookies were. Your relaxed form was enough of an indication to Max that you were handling this, and he knew that he didn’t have to intervene.

“But you’re alone right now,” he pointed out. “I’m not trying to be insistent, sorry. But can I still sit and maybe get to know you?”

“I’m fine by myself. Thanks for the offer, though.” You gave the man a smile, one that would be kind enough but still showing that you wouldn’t change your mind.

“Oh, okay…”

From afar, Max was almost wanting to laugh as he noticed how the guy’s posture had slumped a bit – it was a sign that he wasn’t successful in shooting his shot with you. However, the rookies weren’t reading the situation in the same way as Max, and they were confused as to why your boyfriend was leaving you alone to fend for yourself.

“Shouldn’t you go save her?” Ollie wondered.

“This creep is bothering her and you’re not doing anything,” Liam added.

“She’s fine, don’t worry.” Max actually enjoyed seeing the rookies being worried for you – it was cute and endearing, but it wasn’t needed.

“If you won’t protect her: I will,” one of the drivers said before leaving the group to walk towards you.

Back to you, you thought you would now be left alone. But despite his previous words, it actually seemed that the guy would insist a bit more before giving.

“Well, it was still nice to meet you. I’m–”

“Leaving?” Someone behind the man asked.

You leaned on the side to see who had talked as you took another sip of your drink, and noticed that it was Kimi. He was trying to look intimidating, even though he was definitely a few inches shorter than the guy.

“Who even are you?” The man asked, now annoyed that he was being interrupted by a kid.

You wondered if he knew that there had been an F1 race right next to the amusement park, and if he would realise that Mercedes driver Kimi Antonelli was standing in front of him.

“I’m with her,” Kimi simply said. “And I think you’ve been bothering her too much, so you can leave now.”

“You’re dating her?”

“What? No! Oh my God, that’s my mum you’re talking about.” Kimi didn’t think before speaking, and he eventually processed his own words a few seconds later.

You wanted to laugh. You wanted to laugh so bad right now, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to follow the lead of Kimi’s lapsus. You obviously knew that he had meant to describe you as his grid mum, but the lack of precision about your actual parental role was working better in this situation.

“That’s actually flattering that you think I’m young enough to date him, but yeah that’s my kid right there.” Deciding that you had entertained the guy enough, you stood up from the bench and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress before going to stand by Kimi’s side.

“I tried to be nice and polite to you, you know. But I wouldn’t even date someone who’s already a mother, at a suspiciously young age.” The guy sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, and turned around to walk away.

Exchanging a look with Kimi, you both bursted out laughing at what just happened.

“That was kinda funny, to be honest. Thanks for saving me”, you told Kimi as you ruffled his hair. “Son”, you added with a teasing smile.

“Stop, I’m embarrassed to have said that.” Kimi covered his face with his hands, blushing as he remembered his words.

“Don’t be”, you tried to reassure him. You put your arm around his shoulders, before pulling him alongside to walk back to the other drivers that had observed the situation from afar. “It was kinda cute how you came to save me – my knight in shining armour who protects me better than my own boyfriend.”

Blushing even more at the praise, Kimi couldn’t help the proud grin that appeared on his face. He realised that you would have actually handled it perfectly on your own, but he was glad that you had appreciated him coming to help you.

When you both joined the group that had been waiting for you, they all asked questions about what had been said. Not wanting to embarrass Kimi in front of his friends, you stayed vague and simply said that the Italian driver had been way too intimidating for the guy and that he had scared him off.

“I honestly have a hard time believing that Kimi would look threatening,” Gabriel teased.

“That guy didn’t stand a chance against Kimi, though. And I don’t know how much longer it would’ve taken for him to take a hint,” you explained.

Max knew what you meant. You would have been fine on your own, but you were still glad for Kimi to have sped up the process of making the man give up on you.

For several more minutes, the rookies kept commenting and making theories about what had gone on - which Kimi neither confirmed nor denied. Out of the corner of your eye, you then noticed that Jack was stifling a yawn as the conversation died down.

“Might be time to go to bed?” You suggested as the other rookies also started to yawn.

“Yeah, I think so…” Jack admitted.

“Are you leaving with us?” Ollie asked, expecting you and Max to walk them back.

“There’s one more ride I wanna do with her,” Max joined in as he slipped his arm around your waist. “So we’ll stay just for a bit, but you go back safely.”

“Text me when you’re back to your hotels”, you told the rookies who all nodded.

After sharing hugs, they then walked away from you and Max. They turned back a couple times to wave at you, yelling thank yous for inviting them. You waved back at them with a large grin on your face, until they were out of your sight.

“So, what have you planned for us now?”

“Just follow me, you’ll like it.”

“Confident are we now, Mr Verstappen?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to guess which ride – amongst the tons the park had – you hadn’t been on yet.

“Always, when it comes to you.”

Squeezing your waist, Max pulled you along while he started walking to where he wanted to take you. It only took a few minutes before you noticed which ride was in the direction where you were going.

The Ferris Wheel.

You had often told Max of your love of ferris wheels, trying to go on them whenever you had the chance. But to your luck, or more like lack thereof, there was always an issue: too many people queuing, technical difficulty, arriving right after it closed…

But as you stopped in front of the ferris wheel, it seemed like nothing was preventing you from going on it with Max.

So here you were now, sitting next to Max as the cabin was slowly going up. You could only admire the streets of Jeddah from up there, noticing the track that was near.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?” You eventually asked when the cabin stopped at its highest point. Your tone was quiet and soft, afraid to ruin the peaceful silence.

“Yeah,” Max replied. “Thanks for tonight, I really enjoyed it.”

“Well, it was your idea. I barely did anything.”

“You came. That matters to me,” he explained. “You matter to me. The kids too.” Max leaned back with a sigh. “Fuck, I love those kids.”

“Welcome to the club”, you said with a chuckle. Slipping your hand into Max’s, you squeezed it to remind him of your presence – not that he would ever forget it. “I’m really glad you had fun, that was like the best post-race activity we ever did.”

“I can think of another activity that might be on par with that.” Max looked at you, a smirk on his face.

“I really can’t take you anywhere, of my God!” You couldn't help laughing, which made Max chuckle as well. “If you’re lucky and I’m feeling generous, you might get to do this one too.” You saw the way Max's eyes lit up a bit as he straightened up. “Only if you behave once we’re back on the ground.”

“Yes ma’am,” Max promised with a grin.

A comfortable silence settled again, lasting until you were leaving the ferris wheel. You and Max roamed around the amusement park for a bit, walking hand in hand under the bright artificial lights, until you saw that they would close soon and it would be time for you both to go back to your hotel room.

The smile on your face hadn’t left yet, and your cheeks were still flushed as a result from the heat. Max stole a couple glances at you, admiring how you looked under the night sky of Jeddah. He was truly grateful for you, grateful for your support, grateful for your love.

As he removed his hand that was in yours, Max draped his arms around your shoulders. The gesture made you stop in your tracks and look up at him, before noticing that his eyes were already on you.

“What?” You asked with a confused smile.

“Nothing, you’re just beautiful. Can I not admire my girlfriend anymore?”

“Who would I be to deny you that”, you sarcastically replied as you put your arm around his waist

Taking advantage of the fact that your face was so close to his, Max leaned down and kissed you. It was short, but meaningful. When he pulled back, you didn't hesitate to use your free hand to cup his face and pull him down to kiss him again. His lips smiled against yours, and Max realised he could taste the slight remains of the sugary drink he had bought you earlier.

Not a word was needed between the two of you, as you mutually started walking again in the direction of your hotel. When stopping at crossroads, waiting for the lights to turn green, Max would give you quick forehead kisses. You would smile every time he did it, and the blush on your cheeks never had a chance to go away.

Max usually wasn’t much for PDA, unless it was an arm around you or his hand resting on your lower back, so you were pleasantly surprised at how affectionate he seemed tonight.

It was the consequence of everything that had happened today on track, making you the somewhat only stable thing in his day-to-day life. Max liked having you close to him, and he was definitely not letting go of you for the rest of the night.

..........

Taglist: @umm-i-love-u @callsign-mirage @freyathehuntress @elieanana @suns3treading @fastandcurious16 @l3thal-l0lita (couldn't tag the last 2 people sorry guys)

Hope y'all enjoyed this🫶🏻🫶🏻 took me a while to write it omg like i respected the poll that showed most people wanted the whole triple header in chap so this ended up being almost 10k words lol

I'm trying to not be too repetitive when i talk ab the race weekends, so I'll keep doing my best during the rest of the season to spice things up a bit and also focus on what happens off track like i did a bit here!!

I've started writing for the miami gp, and it should be out next week (i hope😭) + I'll def write a short part ab jack being swapped w franco bc i need smth to cope w the driver change

See you soon, take care of yourselves, i love y'all xx

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[bbydoll18xx]

She's Such a Good Girl

You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her. 

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt

Masterlist

A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!

~

Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years. 

The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free. 

College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child. 

You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.

You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?

So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities. 

Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.

“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.

“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.

Fuck. 

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door. 

“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.

“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face. 

“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.

You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”

Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure. 

“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.

They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.

“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly. 

“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers’ beauty. I can do it one more year.”

Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.

~

Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.

The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level. 

You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.

But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option. 

You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.

You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives. 

You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise. 

A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers. 

You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.

“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”

Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”

Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.

“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face. 

Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.

There was no going back now. 

Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks. 

As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you. 

“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl. 

She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having. 

“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already. 

Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away. 

You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you. 

As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face. 

She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would. 

~

You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it. 

She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.

God, she was so pretty. 

“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again. 

“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words. 

Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you. 

You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon. 

“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake. 

“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear. 

Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze. 

As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands. 

Fuck. 

The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. . 

With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire. 

Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.

Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!

xoxo katy

[voguesriot]

NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✹ luke castellan

part one

( summary ) social media au where luke’s sudden spike in confidence turns a few heads, including the head of your ex who just loves to jump in other people’s business

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite counsellor!reader , mentions of ex bf! hephaestus camper x reader

( notes ) this feels a bit rushed bcs i’m sick rn but i hope you guys enjoy anyway!!

♫ American Teenager by Ethel Cain

♡ liked by maxwalsh , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername proof that percy doesn’t actually hate luke

seaweedbrain hey girlie!!! can you take this down like immediately?? not to sound to mean or anything but i can and will find you 😇

yourusername you’re such a cutie perce

seaweedbrain kys

sarahdawson totally wasn’t held at gunpoint for that last pic guys no need to worry

connorstroll we weren’t worrying but thanks anyway ig

sarahdawson sleep with one eye open.

lukecastellan 2/10 post

yourusername sorry for messing with your tough guy image 😔

lukecastellan actually it only loses points bcs there’s no pics of you

chrisrodriguez WOAHHHHHHH

sarahdawson HIS BALLS FINALLY DROPPED

clarisselarue bit sad to know they weren’t completely crushed after the red team kicked their ass icl

yourusername oh trust they were all whining about it the second i put away the camera

clarisselarue good.

GROUPCHAT — chb’s finest

clarisselarue: y/n what is max doing in your likes…

sarahdawson: HES WHAT

sarahdawson: oh he’s brave

yourusername: IDK HE JUST APPEARED

yourusername: like a bug

seaweedbrain: or a rat

yourusername: that too

lukecastellan: he’s on his way for training with me rn so i’ll go extra hard on him

silenabeauregard: homoerotic subtext goes crazy

yourusername: thanks luke but really you don’t need to do that

yourusername: like i’m over him now and i just want to forget about him altogether

lukecastellan: he deserves a hard time for what he did to you anyway

lukecastellan: you deserve way better than that

lukecastellan: i mean anyone would

seaweedbrain: great save bro

lukecastellan removed seaweedbrain.

sarahdawson: oh you took that one personally

DIRECT MESSAGES

clarisselarue: ok when did you get game

lukecastellan: idk what you’re talking about

clarisselarue: oh please spare me i’ve had to watch you make googoo eyes for the past two years you can’t lie you’re way out of this one

lukecastellan: seriously idk what you’re talking about clarisse

clairsselarue: ok fine whatever but HYPOTHETICALLY if you were to try anything with my girl i want you to know that i approve but trust if you go a toe out of line then you will be dealt with

read.

♫ My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

♡ liked by drewtanaka, hazellevesque , and others

[ tagged: sarahdawson ]

yourusername you’re the only thing i’ll ever thank a man for

yourusername thanks max

this comment was deleted.

sarahdawson I SAW THAT COMMENT GIRL THAT WAS BRAVE

drewtanaka surprised sar isn’t screaming for photo creds for the second slide

sarahdawson bcs i didn’t take it……..

silenabeauregard WOAH WHAT

pipermclean yourusername hey sis can we have a chat please

yourusername nope i’m doing cabin checks rn #counsellorissues

wisegirll i’m doing cabin checks rn though???

silenabeauregard the plot thickens

lukecastellan glad to see you listened to my advice

yourusername felt bad keeping my beauty from everyone

lukecastellan it was a rough time without it

groverunderwood chrisrodriguez now THESE are moves

chrisrodriguez LOOK AT MY BOY GO gods is this what normal parents feel when their kids go to college

maxwalsh nice earrings

this comment was deleted.

seaweedbrain we all saw that comment right…

clarisselarue yes.

DIRECT MESSAGES

maxwalsh: hey can we please talk

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: please babe cmon you didn’t even hear me out

yourusername: because you tried to kiss sarah you fucking asshole

maxwalsh: no it wasn’t like that you don’t get it

maxwalsh: look can you just meet me by our old spot and i can explain everything

yourusername: no

maxwalsh: babe you’re not acting like yourself

yourusername: bcs it’s not her, she’s asleep rn and she’s not your “babe”

maxwalsh: who tf is this???

yourusername: doesn’t matter

yourusername blocked maxwalsh.

lukecastellan posted to their story!

SARAHDAWSON replied to your story

sarahdawson: WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH SLOW YOUR ROLL WHAT

CLAIRSSELARUE replied to your story

clairsselarue: “idk what you’re talking abt clarisse” oh i hate you so bad

SILENABEAUREGARD replied to your story

silenabeauregard: i’d know that silhouette anywhere…

CHRISRODRIGUEZ replied to your story

chrisrodriguez: i’m a bit hurt i wasn’t told in depth about this before but i’m too proud to pay attention to it GOOD FOR YOU MAN

MAXWALSH replied to your story

maxwalsh: so it was you who had her phone the other day

maxwalsh: wtf man

lukecastellan: womp womp

lukecastellan: you snooze you lose and you lost big time

♫ Nobody’s Business by Rihanna, Chris Brown

♡ liked by jasongrace , racheledare , and others

[ tagged: yourusername ]

lukecastellan and it ain’t what??

yourusername AND IT AIN’T NOBODY’S BUSINESS

clarisselarue ok edward cullen why are you eating her neck like that

silenabeauregard everyone i took the hammock pic thank me please 🙏😇

yourusername thank you beautiful angel

seaweedbrain cute i guess…….

chrisrodriguez I ALWAYS HAD FAITH IN YOU BRO EVEN WHEN EVERYONE ELSE THOUGHT YOU WERE A LOSER WITH NO GAME, I STAYED ROOTING FOR YOU

lukecastellan appreciate you bro

lukecastellan wait people said that about me???

wisegirll my favs 😭🫶

yourusername AWE ILY ANNIE

seaweedbrain oh i’m just dirt to you then? chill.

wisegirll you’re so dramatic percy

seaweedbrain oh so mental health matters until I’M the one hurt? cool.

lukecastellan and y’all were saying i had no game

seaweedbrain okay luke see that’s just not funny because your dad literally dances on a revolving stage for a living

lukecastellan had to bring out the dad jokes because you know i’m right?

seaweedbrain why is your old age pension ass beefing with me instead of talking to ur girlfriend… weird behaviour

sarahdawson too cute i fear

sarahdawson but you i must remind you mr castellan, i made it onto her feed first. you will ALWAYS be second to me. always.

drewtanaka anyone else hear weeping from the hephaestus cabin…

leovaldez it’s really depressing

leovaldez i think he just punched a hole in the wall

cbeckendorf he did

pipermclean LMAO WHAT A FUCKING LOSER 😭😭☠️☠️

( taglist ) @perseus-jackass @harrysnovia

[crescenthistory]

i hear searching for fluff. i raise you cat animagus reader and the animal politics that come with being a cat. oh that’s a glass of water you’ve placed on the counter? what a perfect place for my paw to go. they’re a total goodie two shoes but can never stop themselves from swatting at and generally terrorizing sirius, dog form or not. i’ve seen so many videos of woodland animals like stags befriending cats or stealing their food and everyone just being like “wdym i didn’t know they could do that”. reader starts slow blinking at people without realizing. i could go on for forever i would love to see shenanigans and hijinks

beautiful thoughts, i enjoyed all of them. i let them inspire me into a drabble situation of cat!reader terrorising sirius with reg (and rem) on her side. this is just pure chaos and silliness, thank you for the opportunity lovie<3

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, no use of y/n but your cat form is called "whiskers", james and sirius pranked you mildly, you get revenge as a cat, you are only in cat form throughout this, sibling squabbles, super minor injuries (you put your claws in sirius), platonic physical affection, general chaos and fluff

Note: this is technically in the same universe as my other two (first, second) cat!animagus!reader fics with regulus, but can be read alone. it is more of a platonic!sirius x reader fic though, it focusses on the interactions between them + reg, rem and james

Sirius had been made aware by many a parent, professor and otherwise nosey adult, that actions had consequences. Which was all fine and dandy with him, the consequences were often the sole inspiration for his actions. 

This, however. This, they did not warn him about.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he hissed, trying to shake the feline creature off his shoulder. 

Just a few seconds ago, she had been innocently peering down on his textbook, front paws resting on his shoulders as she stood on the top of the sofa he was reclining against. That didn’t last long though, as her claws came out and dug in through the fine material of his shirt, seeking the pain and destruction this evil creature seemed to live off of.

Unaffected by his shaking, she elegantly climbed down his arm – claws still out and still using him as leverage – to plop onto the table before them with a soft prrt!

“Remus, your friend is hurting me,” Sirius sneered at his boyfriend who was sat in a grandfather chair beside him, flipping through a newspaper Sirius was quite certain was out of date.

The other boy hummed noncommittally. “Does she have reason to?” he asked without looking up from the paper.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed at the same time as Regulus said, “absolutely.”

He shot his brother a glare on the other side of the sofa. He was reading through a novel in pristine condition, only looking up to glance fondly at the menace currently parading around the coffee table. Sirius was growing miffed that none of his hangout companions were sparing him any attention.

“I haven’t done anything, and if I had the minx should be over it by now.” Sirius did his best to seem authoritative, but he had a tough crowd.

You hissed at him from where you were standing on the table. Regulus looked up at that with mirth swimming in his eyes despite his impassive facial expression.

“She seems to disagree, Pads,” Remus said nonchalantly. “She’s also been running around as Whiskers for the past few hours, which she only does when she is either really pleased and really upset.”

“And she’s not pleased,” Regulus added unhelpfully.

Sirius muttered something under his breath that amounted to “I wouldn’t be pleased either, if I had to be in a relationship with such a grump” to which he received a throw pillow to the face, another hiss and an admonishing “Pads”.

"It was just a little prank," Sirius defended himself. "It's quite literally what we do." He didn't feel the need to go into the specifics; this was a dog he wanted to bury yesterday. Or, well, cat.

"To no one's enjoyment but your own, I'm sure," Regulus huffed. "If she's bothered by it, that's entirely her right."

Sirius looked to Remus for some backing up, and when he found none, he let out another groan, collapsing further into the sofa in his evident despair.

He would have happily stayed there, bitching and moaning as he pleased, had it not been for the suspicious sounds coming from the coffee table.

There, he found that you had not looked away from him and were sitting disturbingly close to the little homework station he had sat up earlier to then promptly ignore – an open textbook, half-written essay, quill and unscrewed inkpot. The look in your eyes was one you had picked up from Remus in your early days together, full of mischief and tomfoolery. 

“Don’t you even dare–” Sirius managed to get out as he sat up in his seat and pointed a chiding finger at you, but the damage was done.

With what almost sounded like cat laughter – something most unknowing students would brush off because why would a cat laugh but Sirius knew all too well must be your joy at his expense – you knocked over his inkpot. The pot was almost full and the ink fell right on top of his essay and textbook. He let out a half-screech as he moved forward to correct the damage, but you walked straight into the pool of ink, ensuring you were spreading it further around his essay and the feather of his quill. 

Regulus let out an unrestrained bark of laughter as Sirius sank to the floor in front of you, blabbering anger, while Remus simply snorted as he shook his head, choosing not to get involved yet.

“You furry bastard!” Sirius called out as he picked up his parchment, trying to shake some of the excess ink off, only worsening its condition. “You absolute menace.”

Some of the ink he shook off got on your fur, adding to what was already coating your paws from dragging it around. You solved this in the only manner that made sense in cat-world – by launching yourself at Sirius, effectively doubling his screeches within the second.

“Oi! Oi!” Sirius kept calling as you hopped onto his chest, burying your claws into him so he couldn’t simply shake you off, ink smearing all over Sirius’ previously white shirt. The assault of a lifetime, if you asked him. “Azkaban! Azkaban for all of you!” he called when he saw Regulus doubling over with laughter on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Pads! What’s going on, mate?” James’ voice called as he came half-running over after spotting the commotion the second he entered the common room. 

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but upon James spotting the feline devil currently attempting to smear more of the ink across his being, he interrupted with a coo. 

“Oh, hi there little Whiskers!” James greeted, bending down to pick you up by the neck. In that James-Potter-way he simply peeled you off of Sirius and held you out before him, just far enough that the ink wouldn’t get on him. “What’s got you in such a tizzy, huh?” he asked, poking at you with his free hand which earned him a petulant hiss.

“The bloody puma destroyed my essay and leaped at me,” Sirius huffed as he clambered back up, ignoring how he sounded like a first year telling on a classmate to McGonagall.

“I believe she is seeking revenge from that little stunt you two pulled earlier,” Remus drawled from his seat, sharing a look with Regulus who rolled his eyes. They knew.

“Which is fully within her right, I must add,” Regulus said, ever the devoted boyfriend. Bloody lucky you. “And she’s not a puma, you wanker, you’re just scared of cats.”

“Slander! ‘M not!” Sirius defended himself, but James ignored him, turning his attention to the cat wriggling in his grip.

“Did we upset you, little kitten?” James asked so friendly you almost wouldn’t catch the teasing in his tone. “So sorry. Next time we’ll hex your tie a different colour. Robe too, yeah?”

Upon receiving another hiss from you and a lunge of your paw, James outright giggled and petted the top of your head carefully, neutralising you if for but a moment.

“How come she’s forgiving you right away? I have had my property destroyed and was lightly maimed in her quest for revenge!” Sirius shook his head in disapproval, attempting to stare you down. It wasn't turning out to be fruitful.

“Sirius, I have a question for you.” Regulus didn’t continue until Sirius reluctantly met his gaze. “Did you know – and be honest with me now – that you’re a wizard?”

Before Sirius could give him a snarky response, Regulus had waved his wand casually over the ink pools on the table and stains on his clothes, cleaning both up effectively as if nothing had happened. Then he gave Sirius a smug smile that made him want to turn into Padfoot and lunge at him – which probably wasn’t a good idea given there were other people in the room.

“Imbécile grossier,” Sirius muttered under his breath as he kicked a leg out at Regulus, intended more for effect than harm.

He received a “connard stupide” in return as Regulus dodged any further assault by getting up and walking over to James, who was now fully petting the rabid killer, whispering something about “please forgive me, it was just too funny not to”. Traitor. 

“Hey there, amour,” Regulus said as he picked you up out of James’ arms. “Are you regretting marrying into the family?”

You made a huffing sound, climbing out of his arms to settle along his shoulders, over his neck, were you could cuddle against him while still scowling at Sirius.

“You and me both, sister,” Remus mumbled half-heartedly. Sirius gasped at him with every theatrical bone in his body, earning him an eye roll and – at last – for Remus to abandon the paper to give him a quick smooch.

“I didn’t realise sister-in-laws were allowed to be as sibling-y as an actual sister,” James mused as he folded his arms to take in the scene before him. 

“She’s not,” Sirius argued, extracting another eye roll from Remus who patted his thigh placatingly. “Cats are just evil.”

“You could always confront her as Pads, you know, level the playing field,” James suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Regulus turned around so his body was shielding the cat on his shoulders from the three boys. “Not that I doubt she would win against your clumsy self any day, but let’s not even go there.”

Sirius and James barked a laugh that was disturbingly similar while Remus shook his head. “Don’t worry Reg, the less time I can spend around kittens, the better,” Sirius said briskly, feeling emboldened by James’ presence. 

You poked your head around Regulus’ neck at that, so that the two of you could share a look. It’s always peculiar for Sirius to see how much understanding seems to pass between you two, especially when in different forms altogether. It's not something he expected for his baby brother and he feels his heart warm at the display – which he promptly pushes down to focus on the war currently playing out in Gryffindor.

As if you two reached an agreement through just that look, you butted your head against Regulus’ cheek while he nodded. Carefully, he manoeuvred you into his arms and plopped you down on the armrest of Remus’ chair, and disappeared from sight to a secluded corner of the common room.

“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Sirius mused out loud, exchanging bemused glances with James who plopped down beside him.

“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing good.” Remus smiled through his words as he freed one of his hands to scratch under your chin, causing you to purr and brush your feline body closer to his arm. Sirius would be remiss if he didn’t think the sight of pure love between you two wasn’t adorable, but to hells if he would admit it before you two reached a truce. 

Your purring was interrupted as you let out a soft prrt! for seemingly no apparent reason, and reached up to give Remus’ cheek a soft cat kiss – that made the boy’s face crinkle into a smile – before jumping down onto the floor. There, Sirius saw the reason for your joy and felt his heart drop in his chest.

“Oh, hi, Shadow,” Remus greeted the black cat that made a beeline for you on the floor, brushing his body against yours with soft purrs. “Come to join in on your brother’s torment?”

“Absolutely not–” Sirius started, but before he could get up and out of his seat, both cats had jumped up onto his legs and made their way to his lap. “What are you guys doing? Get off?!”

James was giggling once more beside him and Sirius had half a mind to throw the cats at him and run away. Though, he was beginning to doubt whether he would be able to as he saw the determination in Regulus’ eyes.

“I believe they’re making you eat your words, love.” The smile in Remus’ voice was so evident that had he not been as handsome as he was, Sirius would have smacked him.

His arms were frozen at his sides, hands hovering in the air, unsure of where to go as he watched the two cats settle down in his lap in horror. Your bodies were horizontal with his and flush against each other’s, becoming liquid in the cuddle puddle you were currently creating.

Sirius tried hissing at you to no avail as Regulus only slapped him with his paw in response. He tried shifting slightly to push you off, but you buried your claws through the fabric of his trousers – Sirius would give Remus a run for his money as the scarred one of the group after you were finished with him. He tried looking to James and Remus for help, but neither boy were willing as they took far too much enjoyment in the show. Remus at least pretended not to as he “read”, but James was fully angled towards him to see the events unfold, shoulders shaking with mirth. 

A sigh escaped Sirius as he accepted his fate. “I hate you lot,” he said decisively. “Each and every one of you.”

Regulus made a noise that sounded like it was in disagreement with his statement while Remus just hummed. James nodded his head as if to say “fair”.

You, however, picked your head up from where it was resting over Regulus’ and just stared at Sirius. Usually he felt like he could read you quite well in feline form, which he assumed was due to some skills of Padfoot’s transferring over, but right now you were impossible to understand. You held his gaze head on, almost as if you were studying him, but your breaths were coming so slowly you had to be calm, right? Though this forced proximity was clearly a form of punishment, you were growing comfortable. Was he forgiven?

His train of thought was interrupted as the staring competition you had for a few seconds was interrupted – by you blinking. Slowly. Keeping your gaze on him but fully closing your eyes intermittently.

A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face.

He didn’t know a lot about cats and he principally disliked them. But he did know what that meant.

“Yeah, yeah, princess,” he mumbled as his cheeks almost grew a bit red. “You too.”

[emmiesoverthemoon]

what's a little ink?

pairing: han jisung x reader

word count: 7.3k

summary: you wanted the upper hand. you came for a tattoo. you also came for him. and somehow you ended up in his hoodie, eating his eggs, and wondering how a bet turned into this stupid, soft thing you just can’t resist wanting

tags: tattoo artist au, friends to lovers, fluff and smut. porn with plot. sweet, sappy, and gross romance. enjoy

requested by @burlesquerade hope u like it honey

It all started with a simple, completely ridiculous bet. You and Han had been hanging out for hours, as you often did, swapping old stories and making fun of each other’s quirky habits. Laughter echoed around the cozy living room, the kind of laughter that was easy and natural, the way it always was when the two of you were together.

"Okay," Han said, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leaned forward, eyes glinting with that playful spark you knew all too well. "If you can beat me at this stupid game one more time, I will get you whatever you want as a prize."

You raised an eyebrow, already suspecting he might be setting you up for something ridiculous. "Whatever I want? Really?"

"Yep. No holds barred. You name it, and it’s yours," Han assured you, his tone full of confident mischief. "But if I win…" He paused for dramatic effect, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. “You have to let me tattoo you.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Tattoo me? Really? That’s your big gamble?”

Han’s smile grew wider. “I’m a tattoo artist, remember? It's a fair trade. I think you’re too scared to let me do it.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, your fingers tapping idly on your cup. “Scared? Please. I’m not scared of a tattoo.”

His eyes narrowed, a challenge sparking in their depths. “Oh, so now you’re saying you can handle it? Alright then. You’re on. But we both know I’m going to win.”

You gave him a playful smirk. “Big talk for someone who has no idea what they’re up against.”

The game you were playing—a mix of cards, trivia, and guessing games—was silly, and it didn’t take long for the competition to become heated. But, much to your surprise, you did win. By a narrow margin, of course, but a win was a win.

Han’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from gloating too much. You had been expecting him to be smug, but now, as the reality of the situation sank in, you saw a flicker of something else cross his features.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, trying to hide his grin. “You won. So what do you want?”

You leaned back in the chair, considering your options. There were so many things you could ask for—something extravagant, maybe—but you had been thinking about this for a while. Han had been inking people for years now, and you had always wondered what it would feel like to have him work on you.

So, you decided to go for it.

“I want a tattoo,” you said with a straight face, barely able to hide the excitement in your voice.

He blinked at you. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“Totally,” you answered, your grin impossible to hide. “You’re going to ink me, Han. And you can’t back out.”

He stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to make sure you weren’t joking, but then the challenge returned in his eyes.

“Well, if I have to do this, I get to choose where,” he said, his tone slightly mischievous. “No complaints, okay?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Fine. As long as I get to decide what the design is, I’ll leave the location to you.”

Han smirked and held out his hand. “Deal.”

The text from Han came just before noon.

“Hope you’re not chickening out. Studio at 3. Wear something loose. ;)”

You stared at your phone longer than you meant to, heat crawling up your neck. Chickening out? Hardly. But that stupid winking face was another story. He always knew how to push just the right buttons—just enough to make your pulse quicken, just enough to stir things that should probably stay buried.

Still, you showed up. Of course you did.

His studio was tucked into a quiet side street downtown, its glass windows fogged slightly from the early spring chill. You had been here before—countless times, really—but never like this. Never with your skin on the line. Never with your heart threatening to beat out of your chest for reasons that had very little to do with ink or needles.

The soft chime above the door rang as you stepped in. Han was already inside, hunched over a sketchpad, his brows knitted in concentration. A pencil twirled between his fingers as he tapped it against his lower lip, eyes flicking to you the moment you walked in.

And just like that, the air shifted.

He smiled, slow and crooked. “You came. I’m impressed.”

“You told me to. I don’t exactly think that counts as bravery,” you replied, trying to play it cool, even though you were already peeling off your jacket, already catching the way his eyes flicked to your collarbone with something unreadable.

Han rose from his chair, brushing his fingers through his soft brown hair. “I sketched some ideas. Wanna see?”

You nodded, joining him by the desk where several sheets were spread out. The designs were delicate—subtle, intricate things, clearly drawn with you in mind. One of them caught your eye: a minimalist crescent moon nestled inside a trail of tiny stars, the lines fine and whisper-soft.

“I like this one,” you murmured, fingers brushing the paper.

“I thought you might.” His voice had dropped a bit. He was watching you closely, as if your reaction meant something more than approval. “It’s gentle. Quiet. But it lingers.”

You swallowed.

“I’ve decided where to put it,” he added after a beat, stepping closer.

“Oh?” you asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Do I get a hint?”

Han smiled, tilting his head just slightly as his eyes traveled—unapologetically—over your exposed shoulder, down the dip of your neck. “Upper shoulder. Right where it curves into your neck. Here.” He reached out, fingers grazing the exact spot, the barest ghost of a touch. “It’s a place you never see, but everyone else does. Intimate. Subtle. Kind of like the moon.”

You froze. It was a good idea—too good, actually. Because now, your body was responding to more than just nerves. The closeness. The delicacy in his voice. The way his fingertips lingered, resting there a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“I trust you,” you whispered, hoping it would ground you.

Han met your gaze. For once, he looked serious. “Then lie down for me.”

The chair was cold at first, the studio quiet but for the low murmur of music and the faint clatter of his tools. You lay on your side, hair pulled up and shirt slightly off one shoulder, baring the space where he would work. The air kissed your skin, but it was Han’s presence—his warmth—that you felt most acutely.

He cleaned the area with methodical care, the scent of alcohol and antiseptic somehow comforting. But it was the way his hand curved around your shoulder, the way his thumb brushed the nape of your neck, that made you hyper aware of every inch of yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Mhmm.”

“Tell me if it hurts too much.”

You chose not to tell him that it already did—but not because of the needle.

As the machine buzzed to life, the first kiss of ink stung. You flinched, just slightly, and felt his other hand firm on your back in response. Steadying. Anchoring.

He worked in slow, precise strokes, the pressure rhythmic, hypnotic. But each time his fingers brushed your skin, each time his breath tickled your shoulder from how close he leaned—it lit something warm and aching inside you.

His voice broke through the quiet after a while, low and slightly hoarse. “You’re really still. Most people twitch like hell when it’s here.”

You exhaled, barely moving. “I think I just… don’t want to mess you up.”

“You couldn’t,” he murmured. And for a second, the machine paused. His hand stayed, resting lightly over the fresh lines. “You’re kind of perfect like this.”

Your breath caught.

You didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare ask what he meant. But in the pause between one stroke and the next, the silence pulsed—thick with something fragile, something not quite spoken yet.

He resumed working, but something had changed. His touches had always been skilled, steady, but now there was a new kind of deliberateness in the way his fingers slid across your skin—slower, more lingering, more aware. The buzz of the machine became background noise to the static dancing along your spine.

Your breath came shallow and controlled, each exhale purposeful, but no amount of focus could erase the way heat pooled low in your belly each time he adjusted your position, each time he leaned in just close enough that his breath grazed the shell of your ear.

"You’re warm," he said suddenly, voice barely audible over the low thrum of music.

You tilted your head, cheek brushing the leather of the chair. “Is that your way of saying I’m sweating too much?”

A quiet laugh. "No." He wiped the spot gently, fingers spread wide against your upper back. “Just saying... your skin feels alive.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to shiver.

He paused to dip the needle again, but his other hand stayed pressed against you—thumb dragging absently along the edge of your spine. And then, as though the words slipped free without permission, he added, “It’s kind of driving me crazy.”

The machine stilled. Your eyes snapped open.

“What?”

Han blinked, as if he had not meant to say it aloud. But the corner of his mouth lifted anyway, a half-smile that was equal parts sheepish and satisfied. “Nothing. Just... hard to stay focused when you’re under my hands like this.”

Your pulse spiked. “You’re the one who insisted on choosing the placement.”

“Maybe I wanted an excuse to touch you like this. To drive you crazy”

The air between you crackled. He was close now—too close. His hand still rested against your skin, fingers slightly curled as if resisting the urge to grip tighter. You felt it in your bones: the shift from friendly banter to something heavier. Something hungry.

The tattoo needle remained idle, forgotten for the moment.

Your voice came soft, but steady. “Are you always this... handsy when you’re working?”

He leaned in slowly, slowly, until his mouth hovered just behind your ear. “Only when the canvas makes it impossible not to be.”

Your breath caught. You could feel the heat of him, the deliberate pause before he moved again—not toward his tools, but toward you. His hand slid from your shoulder, knuckles brushing the side of your throat in a line so featherlight it made your skin pebble.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “You said you wanted to drive me crazy, too.”

“Is it working?” he murmured.

You closed your eyes, exhaling. “I think you already know the answer.”

Han chuckled under his breath, but there was a tightness in it—like restraint stretched thin. Still, he didn’t kiss you. Didn’t push further. Instead, he pressed a hand to your waist and guided you gently back into place, the spell not broken, only deferred.

“I should finish,” he said, almost hoarse.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah. Finish.”

But every second after that was charged. Every brush of his hand, every hum of the machine, every stolen glance when you dared to peek up at him—all of it thrummed with the knowledge that something had shifted. And neither of you could pretend it hadn’t.

You lost track of time. Moments bled into minutes, drawn out by the quiet rhythm of his work and the unspoken weight between you.

By the time he shut off the machine, your body felt like it had become a tuning fork—tight with tension, humming with everything unsaid.

“That’s it, you're done,” Han said quietly, voice thick.

He reached for a clean cloth, gently dabbing the inked area. The sting had dulled into a soft ache, but the way his hand moved over your skin—slow, deliberate, reverent—was what left you breathless.

He lingered there, thumb brushing just above the fresh lines. “You did good. Barely moved.”

You shifted onto your elbows slightly, twisting to catch his face. “Is that praise, or are you just surprised I didn’t faint?”

His gaze met yours. For a second, he said nothing. Then, a smile tugged at his lips—but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re a lot tougher than you let on.”

You sat up, pulling the collar of your shirt gently over one shoulder. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”

Han stood there, still holding the cloth, still watching you with that unreadable expression. The tension between you was no longer subtle. It stretched between your bodies like a wire, thin and tight, vibrating with things neither of you had said out loud.

You looked away first.

“Let me pay you,” you said, reaching for your bag.

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “This wasn’t about that.”

Your fingers froze on the strap. You turned slowly. “Then what was it about?”

He hesitated, jaw tight. The weight in his gaze softened for a beat—something bare flickering through, like he wanted to say everything but chose instead to say:

“I wanted something of mine on you.”

The words landed in your chest like a drop of ink in water—sinking, blooming.

You didn’t respond right away. The silence folded around you again, but it was thick, pulsing, the air saturated with all the ways you almost touched.

Finally, you smiled, small but real. “Well... now you’ve got it.”

He laughed under his breath, but it was quieter this time. A little more careful. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

You moved toward the mirror, pulling your shirt slightly aside to see the finished piece that now lay protected by second skin. The crescent moon curved delicately against your skin, soft as a secret, sharp as a wish you hadn’t meant to speak aloud.

It was beautiful. It was everything you could have asked for.

You caught Han watching your reflection—eyes fixed not just on the ink, but the shape of you, the moment of you. Like he had never really allowed himself to look until now.

And still... he did nothing. And neither did you.

Just two bodies, standing too close, tied together by a single piece of ink and a silence that spoke louder than anything else.

You turned from the mirror, fingers brushing down the edge of your collar one last time. The skin was still tender beneath your touch, but not as tender as the weight in your chest.

“I should go,” you said, voice a little too light. A little too careful.

Han nodded once, but he did not move from where he stood. “Right. It’s late.”

You moved toward the door, bag slung over your shoulder, shoes forgotten under the bench. The silence followed you like smoke—slow and curling and hard to breathe through. You could feel his eyes on your back.

But just as your hand touched the knob, you paused.

“…I’m not usually like this.”

The words escaped before you could catch them.

Han’s voice came from behind you, lower now. “Like what?”

You didn’t turn to face him. “This affected.”

A beat.

Then: “Me neither.”

You turned then. Slowly. He was closer than he’d been a moment ago. Still not touching. Still not reaching.

But close.

The streetlights from outside filtered through the frosted windows, casting soft shadows over his face—his expression was unreadable again, but his eyes were not. They were dark and warm and searching. Like he wanted to speak with his hands instead of his mouth.

“I should walk you out,” he offered.

“I don’t need—”

“I know.” A pause. Then, his voice was gentler, “Let me anyway.”

You nodded.

He opened the door, and the cool air of the hallway hit your skin like a shock—like stepping out of a dream. The clack of your shoes echoed softly as you both walked, side by side, neither of you speaking.

You reached the door to the street. The city breathed on the other side. Stillness clung to the space between you like fog.

“Hey,” Han called, just as you stepped onto the threshold. His voice pulled you back. “Wait.”

You turned, heart stuttering.

He was standing close again. Too close. The kind of close that felt deliberate. His hand hovered near your waist, fingers flexing once, like he was debating whether to touch you again.

He didn’t.

Instead, his voice dropped. “If I kiss you right now… would that mess things up?”

Your breath hitched.

The world held its breath with you.

You let the silence stretch. Let the ache of it crawl up your spine. And then you said—quietly, honestly:

“I think not kissing me might mess things up more.”

And still—still—he did not kiss you. He only looked at you like he wanted to memorize the moment, the space between your mouths, the way you had just told him everything without saying it outright.

He smiled, slow and heavy with intent. “Then maybe I’ll wait until it really ruins me.”

Your throat went dry.

“Night,” he murmured, stepping back.

And just like that, the door closed between you.

But your heart stayed in his hands.

It was past midnight when your phone lit up.

"You still awake?"

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering, heart already answering before you could.

"i never really went to sleep"

Three dots appeared, then vanished. Then again.

"Me neither"

A beat of no incoming messages passed, then:

"I'm keeping myself up thinking about earlier''

Your breath caught.

"the tattoo?"

"Not exactly.."

You didn't respond right away. You didn’t have to. The air in your room had changed—thicker, tighter, like his voice might pour from the cracks in the wall's paint if you leaned in close enough.

And then the screen lit up again—this time, a call, to which you answered—not after panicking for a few seconds, of course.

“…Hey.” You whispered into the microphone.

His voice was low, rough from too many unsent words. “You looked good tonight.”

You swallowed the simmering embarrassment down. “You saw a lot of skin.”

“Not the part I meant.”

A silence stretched. Not awkward—intimate. It curled through the receiver like warm breath against your neck.

“Come by tomorrow,” he said finally. “I need to check your tattoo.”

“You just want to touch me again.”

“I'm not gonna sit here and lie to you by saying I didn't love every second of touching you. Come by tomorrow, please?”

Your skin flared at the bluntness. There was no smirk in his tone. No teasing this time. Just heat. Quiet and real.

You whispered, “Okay.”

The next day, you were back at his studio.

You told yourself it was just for aftercare, but the second you walked in, saw the way he looked up at you—eyes dark and steady—you knew you were both done pretending.

“Shirt,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat.

You sat. You peeled the fabric from your shoulder, the same stretch of skin that had sparked the night before and haunted his thoughts since. His hands were gloved, but his touch still felt like bare electricity.

He leaned in, inspecting the ink, but the space between you crackled. “Looks good,” he murmured. “You’ll heal fast.”

“So I can go?” you teased, voice thinner than usual.

He gave you no answer. Just peeled off the gloves, tossed them aside, and placed his bare hand against your back—palm flat, warm. Possessive.

“You came back,” he said. “That’s what I wanted.”

You turned your head, letting your cheek rest against your shoulder, watching him. “I did as I was told, Han. So what now?”

Han stepped around to face you. He reached up and touched your chin, tilting your face to his. The air between you shrank to nothing.

“Now I kiss you.”

And this time, he did.

His mouth was warm, unhurried, like he was tasting something he had waited weeks to touch. His fingers cradled your jaw, and you melted into it, into him, into the truth that had been aching beneath your skin for days.

He pulled back, just an inch.

“Still messing things up?” he asked, breath brushing your lips.

You smiled. “Only in the best way.”

The kiss tasted like every moment that came before it—charged, aching, sweet with restraint. His mouth moved against yours like a secret unraveling, like he had memorized the shape of your lips before ever daring to touch them.

You leaned into him, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer like instinct. Like gravity. Han followed the movement without hesitation, one hand sliding around your waist, the other brushing the side of your neck—soft, reverent, as if you might vanish if he held you too tightly.

When he pulled back, just enough to breathe, your foreheads touched. Your eyes stayed closed.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes. “Then show me.”

The words cracked something open between you. Quickly, he sat beside you on the tattoo bed and pulled you onto his lap.

He kissed you again—deeper now, his hands no longer tentative. One slid under your shirt, fingers warm against the small of your back, the other braced at your hip like he needed the anchor. You shifted in his lap, and before you realized you had even moved, he groaned low in his throat at the feel of you straddling him, bodies pressed with no space between.

Still, he slowed. Just for a breath.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.

You nodded, nose brushing his. “More than.”

His lips returned to the bare side of your throat—soft at first, then with the scrape of teeth. Your hands threaded into his hair as you tilted your head for him, shivering when he dragged his mouth down the slope of your shoulder.

“Han,” you breathed.

He stilled for a moment, forehead pressed against your skin.

“I’ve wanted this,” he said. “But not just this.”

You stilled, heart thudding.

“I want every version of you,” he continued. “The fire, the softness, the silence. I want the way you look at me when I'm not looking. I want the way you talk like you are not afraid but touch like you’re terrified.”

You exhaled, chest caving. “You noticed everything?"

“I tried not to.”

He leaned back to meet your gaze. His hands moved with more intent now, but still gentle—still you-first. His thumbs traced the curve of your hips beneath your shirt, and you shivered under the slow build of it.

And then, still holding your waist, he laid you back against the padded bench—carefully, gracefully—like you were something rare. Like he had dreamed of this exact moment in the quiet between days.

Your shirt came off slowly, inch by inch. His hands explored like a map he was finally allowed to touch. Every kiss was a promise: I will not rush this. I will learn you inch by inch. I will memorize every sigh.

When his mouth found yours again, the kiss burned hotter—teeth clashing gently, breath shared. You tugged at his shirt, and he pulled it over his head in one clean motion, your hands already seeking skin, already desperate to feel.

Still, even in the heat, he slowed now and then—traced your ribs with a single finger, kissed the inside of your wrist. Whispers scattered between kisses.

“I want you,” he said. “But I also want you.”

You arched into him, fingertips splayed across his back, heart wide open. “You have me.”

The second his shirt hit the floor, your hands were on him—tracing the taut muscle beneath warm skin, nails catching just enough to make him hiss. His mouth was back on yours before you could take your next breath, more forceful now, more needy. Tongue sliding against yours with a hunger that made your spine arch and your legs tighten around his hips.

Han groaned when he felt it—your thighs drawing him in like a vice, like you already knew exactly how this would end.

“Fuck,” he murmured against your mouth. “You feel too good.”

“You haven’t even felt me yet,” you whispered back.

His eyes darkened.

He pulled you up in one fluid motion, strong hands gripping your thighs as he laid you down atop the workbench, your back pressed against cool wood, your skin burning beneath his palms.

He kissed down your throat, not slow anymore. Messy, greedy, open-mouthed kisses that left your pulse stuttering. He bit lightly at the curve where your shoulder met your neck, and you gasped—head tipping back, legs spreading instinctively, begging for more contact, more friction, more.

His hands slipped beneath the band of your pants, thumbs dragging over the sensitive skin at your hips.

“These need to come off,” he growled, voice thick with want. “Right fucking now.”

You lifted your hips to help, letting him tug them down along with your underwear in one swift motion. The heat in his gaze when he looked at you—all of you—bare on his table, flushed and panting, legs spread for him like it was the most natural thing in the world—

It made your stomach flip, made your core throb.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, like he was angry about it. “So fucking pretty and wet already, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

“Then do it,” you whispered. “Touch me.”

And he did.

One hand pressed your thigh open, the other sliding between your legs, fingers stroking through your slick folds in a rhythm that was maddeningly light. He teased your clit with the pad of his thumb, watching the way your hips jerked, your mouth parted around soft gasps.

“You gonna let me make you come with just my fingers first?” he murmured, leaning close, breath hot against your ear. “Wanna feel you grip them before I fuck you. Want you so messy I can’t think straight.”

You whimpered, back arching. “Yes—please, Han—”

He slid one finger in, slow, letting you feel the stretch. Then two. Then a curl of his knuckles that had you crying out, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the table.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Grind on my fingers. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You did—hips rocking, thighs trembling, your core clenching around him as he worked you open with deliberate pressure, circling your clit with his thumb until the pressure built fast and dizzying.

“I can feel you getting close,” he said against your throat. “You gonna come for me, baby? Right here on the table where I ink people’s skin?”

“Fuck—Han—yes—”

You shattered with a cry, legs shaking, body arching against his mouth as he kissed you through it—murmuring things you could barely process, words lost in the white-hot rush.

And when you finally came down, breath heaving, he leaned back and licked his fingers clean with a satisfied smirk.

“Think you’re ready for my cock now?”

You nodded, dazed. “Please.”

He undid his belt with one hand, gaze locked to yours as he stroked himself—slow, thick, already slick from the sight of you. Then he lined up, ran the head through your folds once, twice, teasing your oversensitive clit just to watch you twitch—

And then he pushed in.

You both groaned—deep, guttural—like relief and hunger all at once. He filled you in one slow, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

You were soaked. Sore. Already wrecked.

But he did not stop.

He fucked you—hard, deep, each thrust lifting your hips from the table, your hands clawing at his back, your moans turning to whimpers, then cries. His name over and over.

Your moans spilled out in sobs as your second climax hit you like a dam bursting. It was hot—blinding—your release painting his cock in pulsing waves, your entire body locking up beneath him. All the hunger, the want, the times of aching tension you had swallowed back whenever he so much as looked at you with those dark, unreadable eyes—it all came out in that moment. You clenched tight around him, and he groaned loud and low, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“God—look at you,” he rasped, voice wrecked, pride and awe tangled in every word. “So good for me. So perfect when you come.”

But then, his hips stopped to a jarring halt. He was still buried inside you, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged. You could feel the tension in his body—every muscle taut, his hips stuttering in that way that told you he was right on the edge, right there—

But holding back. Just for you.

You cupped his jaw, breathless but steadying. “You didn’t come.”

He shook his head, eyes fluttering. “Wanted to feel you first. Wanted to see—fuck—how tight you get when you come around me.”

Your body gave a little twitch at the memory, still oversensitive, still full. But a flicker of something else lit behind your eyes.

You kissed him—slow and deep—and then, with a sly smile, clenched around him deliberately.

He choked on a moan, arms trembling where they braced beside your head.

“Baby—don’t—”

“You always so in control?” you whispered, brushing your lips along his jaw, down his throat. “Or are you just that good at hiding when you want to break?”

He groaned, head falling to your shoulder. “Please—fuck—”

You rolled your hips beneath him, just a little. Just enough.

“You’re still so hard,” you murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Still deep inside me like you need to be. You want to come? Want to fill me up?”

“God—yes.”

“Then allow me.”

You pushed him gently, and he let you—collapsing back into the chair beside the bench, cock glistening and flushed as it slipped free, twitching with the aftershocks of restraint. He barely had time to breathe before you dropped to your knees between his legs and wrapped your hand around him—tight, slow strokes from base to tip that had him gasping and clenching the arms of the chair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you murmured, kissing the head of his cock, licking the slit just to taste the salt of him.

His hips bucked and he cursed—head thrown back, abs tensing.

“Sensitive already, aren’t you?” you purred.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna come—”

You took him into your mouth before he could finish the sentence—deep and warm, tongue swirling as you bobbed your head, one hand cupping his balls, the other pressing down gently on his hip to keep him from thrusting.

He was loud now, whimpering, begging, gasping your name like prayer.

And when he came—god—

It was with a broken moan, back arching, thighs shaking under your palms. You swallowed everything, licked your lips, and looked up at him through your lashes as he tried to remember how to breathe.

His eyes were glassy, hair clinging to his forehead, chest rising in jagged waves.

You smiled. “Still in control?”

He laughed—wrecked, breathless. “Fuck no.”

You climbed into his lap again, your bare skin still warm, flushed and tingling, and curled against him with a quiet little hum.

He wrapped his arms around you like instinct. And then, softly:

“…Round two’s gonna ruin us both.”

You grinned against his neck. “Good.”

The studio held comfortable silence for a moment.

Only your breathing filled the space—shallow and warm, mingling with his where you straddled him on the tattoo bed again, skin flushed and shining in the low amber glow of the work light. The air smelled like sweat and sex, care, and ink—hot, heavy, and honest.

Han was still beneath you, arms slack, mouth parted. His chest heaved, his cock softening between your thighs.

You dragged your fingers along the lines of his jaw, smug and satisfied. “Speechless?”

He blinked once. Then again. Something shifted in his eyes.

“No,” he rasped. “Just… trying not to fuck you so hard this bed breaks.”

You laughed softly—until his hands shot to your hips and slammed you down onto his thigh.

You gasped, the sudden friction making your oversensitive body jolt.

“I let you ruin me once,” he growled, voice low and wrecked. “Your turn now.”

You barely had time to react before he stood, arms beneath your thighs, lifting you like nothing. Your back hit the nearest wall—your bare skin flush to cool concrete, legs wrapped around his waist, his cock already hardening between you again.

“What—Han—”

“You think you can just look at me like that,” he snarled against your neck, grinding up between your soaked folds. “Touch me like you own me. And then walk out of here? Nah.”

You shivered. His cock pressed right against your entrance.

“Han—”

“Look at me.”

You did.

He didn't give you a warning. Just a brutal promise, growled against your skin; “I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget your own name—but still remember mine when your hands are between your legs for weeks after.”

Then he was inside you again—deep—in one smooth, merciless thrust, hips snapping forward so hard your back hit the wall with a dull thud.

You gasped—high and breathless—arms clinging to his shoulders, nails biting into skin.

“Han—fuck—”

He caught your cry in a kiss that was anything but sweet. All tongue, teeth, and desperation, lips crushed to yours like he needed your breath to survive.

Your walls fluttered around him already—sensitive from the first round, still dripping wet and raw, but ready despite the ache. He filled you so completely, so perfectly, it stole the air from your lungs.

“I felt this pussy clench around my fingers,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to slam into you again. “But it’s nothing—nothing—compared to how you grip my cock. So fucking tight. So wet.”

You moaned—helpless—every part of your body trembling as he started to move.

Hard. Fast. Focused.

Your back scraped against the wall with every thrust, the studio echoing with the filthy slap of skin on skin, the sound of your choked gasps and his rough groans.

“You want control?” he hissed, fingers digging into the underside of your thighs, forcing them open wider. “Then take it.”

He pulled out.

You nearly cried from the loss.

Then he moved you back to the table, your knees hitting the workbench edge as he turned you, bent you forward, pressed your chest flat to the table.

You barely had time to breathe before he plunged back inside from behind, the new angle making you cry out, high and broken.

“Louder!” he commanded. “Let the whole damn building know how good I fuck you.”

And louder you were when he found that spot inside you—over and over again, the pace brutal and relentless.

He gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust, the obscene sound of your slick arousal growing louder with every stroke. Your legs started to buckle—nerves frayed, every inch of your skin alight.

“F-fuck—Han—I can’t—too much—”

“You can. You’re taking it like a fucking dream,” he rasped, reaching down, rubbing your clit in tight, wet circles that made your vision blur.

Your whole body tightened—shaking, clenching, desperate to come again, and again—

He leaned over you, lips to your ear, voice hoarse:

“Come on my cock again, baby. Milk it. Let me feel that pretty pussy worship me.”

And you did.

You shattered—body convulsing, mouth open in a silent scream as you came hard, squeezing him so tight he cursed and slammed into you with one final, brutal thrust.

He came with a shout—loud, raw, high—hips jerking as he spilled inside you, his hands fisting in your hair, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a moment.

Ruined. One tangled, sweaty, aching mess.

Then his hands softened—smoothed up your back, traced the curves of your hips like reverence.

He pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“…Still remember your name?”

You laughed, wrecked and breathless.

“Remind me?" you whispered.

You did not remember collapsing—just that one moment he was still inside you, and the next, you were draped across the tattoo bed like laundry left out to dry. Your skin tingled, nerves alight, thighs sticky and trembling, your mind still floating somewhere just above your body.

And Han?

Han was slumped in the chair again, legs spread, one arm thrown dramatically over his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered into the crook of his elbow. “I think I blacked out. You short-circuited me.”

You snorted, face still pressed to the cool surface of the bench. “You short-circuited me. I’m literally leaking.”

He scooted the chair to get a full view of what you were talking about, eyes glassy but mischievous. “Good. I want it dripping down your thighs next time you show up in those little skirts you wear.”

You blinked. “Next time?”

Han grinned, wicked and lazy. “Oh, baby. This is so not a one-time thing. I’m gonna put a stamp on you like a repeat customer loyalty card.”

You rolled onto your side, raising a brow. “You’re gonna fuck me five times and give me a discount on a flash piece?”

He laughed—loudly. Like you caught him off guard. “God, you’re a menace.”

“You’re the menace. Who says that shit mid-stroke?” you shot back, mimicking his earlier line with mock dramatics: “‘Forget your own name but still remember mine?’ Who writes you?”

He leaned forward, dragging his fingers up your bare spine. “No one writes me. I just improvise.”

You narrowed your eyes. “So… you freestyled your way into making me cum thrice and see stars?”

He winked. “What can I say? I’ve got bars and stamina.”

You smacked him with a rolled-up paper towel, but he caught your wrist and pulled you into his lap, arms curling around your waist like he never wanted to let you go.

Then—softer, like he almost did not mean to say it aloud:

“…I really like you.”

You stilled, looked over to him and kissed him gently, pouring every single ounce of reciprocation your being had to offer him. Because maybe he was a cocky, ridiculous, and insatiable man—but he was your cocky, ridiculous, and insatiable man.

Even when he was a little bit of a menace.

The silence after pulling away was heavy—not the uncomfortable kind, more like an exhale. A shared, serene stillness, your heartbeat slowing while his lips ghosted along your jaw, your collarbone, the tender edge of your throat.

He had not moved far.

Still close. Still inside your gravity.

Then Han shifted, propping his head on one elbow which rested on the arm of the chair, eyes sweeping your face like he was memorizing something. His fingers moved before his mouth did—brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, thumb dragging down your cheek.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You blinked up at him, still dazed. “Hey.”

He hesitated—not out of uncertainty, but because this, somehow, felt bigger than everything you both had already done.

“You don’t have to go home tonight.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

His voice stayed soft, careful, “I mean… you could stay. With me.”

You stared.

He rushed to fill the silence, eyes darting between yours.

“Not just for more of this—though God, don’t get me wrong, I want more of this—but like. We could crash at my place. Order food. You could steal my hoodie. Wake up and make terrible coffee together. You could see what I’m like in the morning. Spoiler: not sexy. Kind of grumpy. But you’re good with chaos, right?”

You laughed—but something in your chest ached, cracked just a little.

Because he meant it—this wasn’t just about lust anymore. Not even about proximity or chemistry.

It was a choice.

He was asking you to stay, to see him past the high, into the quiet.

You leaned up, kissed him once—slow and certain.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered.

And the way he looked at you then—hopeful and smug and so unmistakably fond—made you feel warmer than anything else that night.

Sunlight crept in like it was in on a secret, painting lazy gold across your bare shoulder.

You stirred, slowly, blinking awake to the smell of coffee and something warm—eggs?—cooking in the kitchen nook. Your body ached, in all the right places. Inner thighs sore. Lips swollen. A fingerprint or five pressed like stamps into your hips. You stretched, wincing slightly, and smiled.

And Han—God, Han—was nowhere in the bed, but his hoodie had been draped over your legs like a blanket, his scent wrapped around you like a sigh.

You slipped it on, oversized and soft, sleeves swallowing your hands, and padded barefoot across the polished concrete toward the sound of gentle humming and the clatter of a pan.

Han stood with his back to you—shirtless, hair wild and sticking up in twenty-seven different directions, tattoos flexing as he flipped something in a pan. There were two mugs of coffee already out. One black. The other just the way you liked it.

You leaned on the doorway, biting your smile.

He sensed you, because of course he did.

“You’re up,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder. And then, softer, like he couldn’t help himself: “Fuck, you look good in my hoodie.”

You padded up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his nape.

“You’re feeding me. You really trying to make me fall in love with you?”

He chuckled, flipping the egg once again with a practiced hand. “That was the plan, yeah. Ruin your body, then win your heart with food.”

You laughed against his skin. “Tactical.”

He turned the stove off and turned in your arms, resting his hands low on your hips, looking down at you with sleepy warmth in his eyes. You felt it then—not just the physical closeness, but the easiness of it. The comfort. The pull.

“You staying the whole day?” he asked, voice quiet now, vulnerable in that way he rarely let show.

You nodded, brushing your lips over his collarbone.

“Only if you kiss me like that again,” you teased.

He grinned.

And did just that—slow, sweet, a kiss with no agenda other than to keep you there.

Later, with your stomach full, your limbs loose and drowsy from the best kind of indulgence, you found yourself curled up on the couch—Han’s head in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the messy strands of his hair.

Some terrible movie was playing on his television. Neither of you was really watching it. The remote lay forgotten on the floor. His fingers traced idle patterns on the bare skin beneath your borrowed hoodie, the both of you half-clothed, half-tangled, fully comfortable.

“This is dangerous,” you murmured.

Han cracked one eye open. “What is?”

“This. Us. You looking at me like I hung the stars and made your coffee.”

He smirked without moving. “You did, though. Kind of. That coffee was perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed anyway.

His expression softened, gaze dropping to where his hand rested just beneath your ribs. “You should let me tattoo you again,” he said after a long beat.

You looked down at him. “Now?”

“No,” he smiled, “not now. But someday. Something small. Just for me. Somewhere only I get to see.”

Your stomach flipped at the idea. You tried to play it off. “That’s a lot of trust, letting you draw on me permanently.”

His fingers slid a little lower, dangerously close to a place that still pulsed with the memory of last night.

“You already let me ruin you once,” he said with a grin. “What’s a little ink?”

You snorted, swatting at him half-heartedly. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And you’re still here,” he countered easily, nuzzling into your thigh like he belonged there. Like he always had.

You sighed contently as you carded your fingers through his hair again.

“Yeah,” you whispered, half to him, half to yourself.

“And I'm here to stay.”

drops this in your hands and runs off into the sunset

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325

[donaweasley]

Pale Blue Midnights

Pairing: MCU!Loki x Fem!Reader

Plot:

I, too, did a pollen story! That’s it. That’s the plot! 😆Except that it’s not exactly pollen but something else but ultimately strange flowers are at play. Well, simply put, it’s sm.u.t with a plot.

Warnings: Sm.u.tttttttttttt

Read time: ~32 mins

Enjoy half an hour of pure se.xua.l pleasure with the god of mischief!! 😉😏🫠 MINORS: Don’t you dare peek!! 🤨

“Careful now!” She warned Loki in a low but stern voice. “The last time Banner went on an expedition like this, he accidentally smelled a flower and…”

“And what?” Loki would never admit but he was half scared of even hearing the consequences.

“Well, … let’s just say that Nat and he didn’t get out of the room for three days straight!” She concluded with a chuckle.

Loki’s brows almost touched his hairline at the realisation. A part of him - the wild spirited part - immediately conjured up a forbidden image of himself tangled in sheets with his current mission partner. An image that had often haunted him in the darkness of the nights when his heart was restless or when his body yearned for her. This mischievous side now secretly wished to find an aphrodisiac that would put them in a similar situation.

But the logical side of him was scared to death. He knew that it would not be wise to be trapped in such a situation, not with the woman who trusted him with her life, the woman who addressed him as her BFF - a sweet but woefully distasteful Midgardian vocable, as he liked to put it.

A joke about Romanoff and Banner danced on the tip of his tongue but he dared not utter it lest it should come back and bite him in his royal arse.

Both of them were wearing safety suits, masks, safety goggles and gloves. So, there was almost zero chance of any contact with any toxic organism or pollen. But with ‘Mischief’ being his middle name, who knew what he might land up in!

He decided to divert the topic. “Why are we doing this again?”

“For the same reason we humans have been exploring Mars,” his mission partner answered without looking at him. “And because it’s better than running around and knocking people out or killing them,” she added with a smile. “Sometimes I get so tired of it!”

“Well,” Loki replied with a shrug, “that is the real fun!”

“Hmm,” the woman was deeply engaged in investigating a pale-looking, small blue flower that bloomed in bunches on a small plant.

“Found something interesting?” Loki waddled through the tall grass and weeds to where his partner was.

“Yeah, look at these…” Her attention was still robbed by the flowers. “I think I have seen them somewhere. They look very familiar. But…”

“They look harmless,” Loki extended a hand to examine a flower. The bottom of the pedicle was covered in what looked like tiny hairs that stuck to his glove. He tried to pull the flower off of him with his other hand but they just stuck to the other glove. No matter how hard he jerked his hand, the flower just would not come off.

Giving up with a sigh, he started to remove a glove.

“Don’t!” His teammate warned him once again.

“I am a god! These frail Midgardian things do not affect me.”

Before she could protest, he had already pinched the pedicle. What followed was a hiss, accompanied by a small jump, and a set of bleeding thumb and forefinger. What had appeared to be harmless hair on the stem, turned out to be a wrap of fine thorns.

“Damn!” Loki threw the flower to the ground.

“Damn you, you idiot!” His partner cursed him. “One day you’re going to get yourself killed because of your overconfidence!”

The said god shot her a deathly glare but it went totally ignored as she was busy squeezing the blood out of his wound.

“Do you feel anything pricking inside?” She asked. Concern veiled her face and wrapped itself around her throat.

It was her softness, her caring nature that always knocked the wind out of him. And it did so again. Loki whispered a soft ‘No’ as his eyes fixated on her countenance and her actions.

“Are you sure? Don’t hide your discomfort behind your ego.” A panicked (Y/N) pulled her mask down, and raised his fingers to her lips to gently suck the blood from the cuts one by one.

A shudder trembled down Loki’s body. Thankfully, she was too busy worrying about him to notice his wide eyes, dilated pupils and flushed face.

With a sudden jerk, Loki pulled his hand away from her. “I’m fine,” he huffed.

“Well, there is nothing to be disgusted about. The saliva kills any germs that might be lingering on your cut.” Though she narrowed her eyes in mock anger she certainly sounded hurt.

“I never said it was disgusting!” He protested.

“But your action said so!”

“I pulled away because-” How could Loki explain that he had to pull his hand away because her actions were doing unspeakable things to him!

With a frown, she silently waited for an explanation.

“Because I did not want you to accidentally swallow any poison or anything,” he concluded in a tone that was much softer than where he had left.

This time, it was her turn to feel butterflies in her stomach. Pushing all rosy thoughts down because c’mon!, the charming god of mischief could never like her back, she pulled her mask up along with her professional demeanour.

“Let’s finish this before you get yourself into more trouble,” she mumbled, and continued down the trail that they had taken before the blue flowers so temptingly distracted them.

—-

Loki woke up in the middle of the night to find himself covered in sweat, with his heart beating thunderously. At first he feared that it might be the effects of the flower that had pierced its thorns in him not many hours ago. But as the fog of sleep gradually evaporated, the reason became embarrassingly clear to him.

It was not any fever or infection that woke him up. The indecent scene that had popped up in his mind during the expedition, regarding his teammate, had morphed itself into a vivid dream, and had engulfed all his senses.

They were in the midst of a meadow. And while he knew that they should have been busy examining flowers, they were far, far from it. Pale blue flowers surrounded them, as if witnessing and spurring them on. And them?

Well, Loki was lying on the moist grass, the soft sun caressing the pale, sweat-glistened skin of his naked back. His mouth was busy sucking the slender neck of his teammate who was writhing beneath him in a stark state of nature, while his hands pinned her arms down to the ground.

Her bare legs had wrapped themselves around his own as he kept on rubbing himself against her plush wet folds, trying to find his release and hers. Their moans echoed in the trees encircling the meadow. The sky watched as he flipped them over. The wind tickled their aroused skins as she sat atop him like a queen perched atop her throne, and looked into his eyes like a huntress staring down at her prey. Loki’s throat went dry when she brought his hands up to her breasts. And when she started moving her hips - oh, the way she moved, like a dancer with a murderous intent - the grunt that left the sorcerer’s throat told the entire world of his pleasures…

These kinds of dreams about her weren't new to him, true, but this one was so detailed and realistic that he still could not wrap his head around what he saw. He had no idea his mind had the capability of conjuring up such a thing.

After helping himself to some water and breathing deeply to calm his nerves, the sorcerer laid down to try and get some sleep. But glimpses from his recent virtual activity kept flashing before him until he could fall asleep again, and then taunted him a little more after that, too.

—-

The next morning, after the entire team had almost finished their breakfast, (Y/N) pulled Wanda to a corner.

Hesitation was etched on her face as she fidgeted with the edges of her phone and looked around nervously.

After a little nudge of encouragement from the redhead, she finally asked but with a shaky voice, "Have you…have you ever had…uhm…dirt- uhm… indecent dreams about your…your coworker?"

Wanda's eyes widened at the question and a slender hand flew to her mouth to cover the prominent O and the giggle that was about to follow.

"Why, who did you dream about?"

Before the other person could answer, another woman slid into the conversation.

"Loki," Natasha confidently threw her answer to the duo.

"Shhh! Shh!" A panicked (Y/N) tried to keep things down.

Wanda's eyes became wider, if that was even possible. "And how do you know?"

"She has been fumbling and stammering around him since this morning. At first I thought it was her usual crush thing but heightened. But then I heard this question, and everything just…clicked!" She snapped her fingers and winked.

“I don’t have a crush on him!” (Y/N) protested in a hushed voice.

“You do!”

“You do!”

Both her friends opposed simultaneously.

Defeated, she hid her face in her hands, and mumbled almost incoherently, “Am I that obvious?”

“Well,” Natasha began, “your state of heart is as clear as a dazzling day to everyone in the compound.”

(Y/N) groaned.

“But not to Loki,” the spy added.

This made the former peek through her fingers.

“Yeah,” Wanda chimed in, “he’s a bit thick in the matters of the heart.”

“So, you’re saying he doesn’t know yet?” (Y/N) sat up straight.

Seeing her spirits, Romanoff rolled her eyes while a little red glow sizzled on Wanda’s fingertips. “Well, I can change that,” she lifted her hand and swirled her fingers.

“Or maybe,” Natasha joined, “I can go up to him and tell him everything to his face.”

“No!”

“Then tell him yourself.”

“No!”

“Coward!”

“M not!”

“Whatever! Just tell us about this “indecent” dream you saw, and we'll try not to pester you,” Nat tried a bargain.

"And that's why I did not want to tell you!" (Y/N) whisper-shouted.

“All the details, please!” Wanda’s face broke into a wide grin.

—

It took her more than just words to shake her friends off. They were having more fun watching her drown in sheer embarrassment than they were interested in listening to her story. In the end, however, she succeeded in keeping her secret to herself.

Grinning to herself, she was walking back to her room when she almost collided with someone. She did not need to look up to see who the tall person was. His scent engulfed her. As soon as it hit her nostrils, the air around her seemed to change into a feverish smoke.

“Sorry!” A sheepish smile was all that she could afford.

“It is alright. I was not looking either,” the (in)famous SilverTongue stammered through his words.

One look at her brought back all the scenes from his latest dream in technicolour, and he had to cough the awkwardness down his throat. It was only after his discomfort subsided that he noticed the red cheeks and ears of the other person.

“Are you feeling unwell?” His eyebrows knit together.

“What?”

“You look…flushed!...Do you have a fever?” Loki placed the back of his hand to her forehead.

Only the heavens knew the strength it took her to suppress the moan that threatened to escape her! Closing her eyes, she bit her lips to forbid any sound from escaping her.

Little did she know that this struggle of hers was making things difficult for the person in front of her. Loki removed his hand quicker than he had planned.

“You should… you should get yourself checked,” he advised. “Who knows what bug you might have caught yesterday.”

“I’m fine, really,” she cleared her throat. “Just… could not sleep well. I think I shall take a nap. Should be feeling fine by evening!”

Loki hummed in agreement.

“Are you well?” She asked after some hesitation.

“Yes! Why do you ask?”

“Well, you look… how do I put it? It’s as if some thought has been consuming you. You’re not your usual confident, mischievous self today. You okay?”

The trickster was surprised at how well she could read him. Almost choking with joy, he nodded, “I am fine. There is something going on in my head, yes. But it is nothing to worry about.”

“Good. Well then, I shall go get some rest.”

With a smile, they went their separate ways, each grinning like an idiot and praying that the other person does not know about it.

—-

Y/N was sitting by the window, reading a book when the knock on her door startled her. Keeping the book on the nearest table, she almost jogged towards the door to open it. On the other side stood her favourite teammate - the raven-haired god from outer space.

“Wanda told me everything,” he declared in a deep baritone. “Romanoff told me about the dreams you are having. Tell me,” he took two steps inside, making a stunned Y/N walk backwards, “do you dream about me often? Hmm? This innocent face of yours… these naive-looking eyes of yours… Oh! And all the dirty thoughts they carry! Tell me, pet, do you often fantasise filthy things about me?”

He had already won the game when he started speaking in that rich voice. And when he called her “pet”, she could not help but clench her muscles  and rub her thighs together.

Loki did not fail to notice that. When she did not respond but simply stared at him open-mouthed, he slowly nudged her chin to close her mouth, only to tantalisingly swipe his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Do you?” This time, his question was breathed upon her mouth.

“No!” She managed to croak.

Loki narrowed his eyes towards her, as though disbelieving her. It worked, for the truth spurted out of her in the form of a whimper.

“Yes.”

“Yes?* He asked again like a big cat playing its last game with its prey.

“Yes!” She breathed.

“Oh my poor little darling!” Loki purred. “You should have told me sooner. I would have loved to end your misery!”

With these words, he bent down to suck the side of her neck and mark her. When he released the bruised skin, his lips followed the trail of her jawline until they reached her chin. Taking it gently between his teeth for a while, he licked a long stripe from the hollow of her neck up to her panting lips.

“Do you touch yourself when you think of me?” His hot breath on her earlobes seemed to take the life out of her.

She did not want to reveal her secrets before him and yet her hazy mind kept betraying her.

“Yes!” She confessed.

“Mmh! Had thought so!” He growled. “Show me!”

“I-I… no… No, I can't!” Her face went beet red.

“Well then… I shall find out for myself. Do you touch yourself here?”

His long fingers found their way beneath the hem of her shorts to her inner thighs. There, they brushed the skin very lightly, stoking the fire within her core.

“Or is it here?” His fingers trailed upwards. 

“Here?” His slender, sinful fingers skimmed the surface of her bare mound while carefully avoiding the very spot that had her squirming.

“Loki!!” Her whimper was met with a triumphant smirk.

“What? I am only trying to find out where you touch yourself. Am I not on the right path?”

“Please!!” Damn! She was begging, against all the protests of her now-moderately sane mind.

“‘Please’ what, pet?” His lips were brushing the shell of her ear. “Tell me what you want from me. I am a benevolent god. I shall not deny you of your pleas. Not when you squirm and beg like that!”

Her tongue tried to hold itself but her body was on fire. It was only by giving in that she could find release from this torment.

She screwed her eyes shut. “Please touch me, Loki!”

“Well, I am touching you.” Loki continued his sweet, smooth torture. “Is there anywhere specific that you want me to touch, darling?”

Damn this god of being an asshole!!!

This time she looked up in his eyes, and spoke with a lewd confidence, “Touch my cunt, Loki. Make me cum.”

The growl that escaped him was enough to take her to the peak. As nimble fingers entered her, the god’s eye became hooded and his mouth parted, releasing a sigh that landed on her mouth, only to be chased by his hungry lips on them.

They buried their moans in the other's mouth. When Loki pushed her against the nearest wall, she tried to pull him closer. But Loki freed himself out of her hold. Worried, she opened her eyes to find the god slowly kneeling before her. Staring deep into her eyes, he pulled her shorts down with him. And when his knees landed on the floor, so did her shorts.

Sitting face-to-face with her dripping folds, he gently stroked his fingers along the length of her left thigh, all the way down to her calf. Slowly, he picked the leg up, and put it on his shoulder. Licking his lips in the most sultry way she could have imagined, he buried his face between her legs.

The delightful scream that forced itself out her throat was probably heard by all inmates of the compound. But that did not stop Loki from exploring every corner of his delicious treasure.

A loud knock on her door made her spring out of the moment.

“Maybe they did hear my scream,” she thought “Shit! But wait…what…the fuck?”

Loki was nowhere around. She was lying on the bed, her side-pillow tucked in tight between her legs.

So, was that all…another dream?

The knock on the door had now transformed into banging.

“Are you alright in there?” It was Steve’s voice. “Why did you scream?”

So, I had actually screamed while dreaming?? Shit! Fucking shit!!

“(Y/N), I’m going to come inside.” Steve was absolutely worried!

No no no!! He cannot see me in this mess! I shan’t be able to face anyone again!

“I’m fine, Steve!” She shouted back. “I…uh…I thought I saw a spider, and I screamed. It was only a small bug.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Absolutely fine! Just got a silly little scare.” She forced a laugh.

“Fine then. I’m gonna…go” Steve sighed in relief although his words sounded hesitant.

“Yup! See you later!”

When she was sure she heard the captain walk away, she let out a long breath.

“Fuck! What the hell is happening? Why do I-”

Realisation hit her like a brick. It had all begun after their return from the plant-hunt.

“Those blue flowers…d-did they really affect me? … Did they affect Loki? He was the one who was actually pricked!” The scenes from that fateful day kept unfolding in her mind. “Damn! Is that why he has been behaving awkwardly? ... But wait, if this flower is indeed an aphrodisiac, why am I having troubles only around Loki? Is it because I like him or…is it because we were both affected by the same flower? Fuck! I must find out.”

—-

At dinner, (Y/N) observed Loki closely. Well, she had always “observed” him rather closely but this time it was more like analysing a target. She realised that he was fine with the rest of the team - even with the other women - but when around her, he fidgeted a lot. Even his glances towards her were hesitant. And yes! He did avoid physical contact - even the slightest possible brush of their little fingers.

There was definitely something going on.

“Sam,” her sudden approach startled the soldier who was busy looking for dessert in the fridge. “Hold my hand.”

“What?”

“Hold my hand!”

“But why?” He looked at her as if she had grown two heads.

“Just … I need to test a theory.”

A smirk surfaced on his mouth. “I knew you’d warm up to me one day.”

But the glare that he received for an answer made him quickly take his words back. “Just kidding! You know that well, don’t you!”

Sam curled his fingers gently around her extended arm.

“What now?” He asked curiously.

Eyebrows knit together, her eyes darted across the tiled floor, trying hard to gauge her body’s reaction. Nothing; she felt nothing.

Pursing her lips, she hummed. “Well, thank you, Sam!” With a pat on his upper arm, she walked off, leaving the man a handful of questions in his mind.

So, her theory was correct: it was only Loki who was affecting her. And apparently, it was only her affecting the god. She had been training with others; she felt nothing. Loki had been training with everyone else with ease. But when they were paired together, the air that they breathed seemed to turn into an erotic enchantment. The discomfort was evident on both their faces. So much that neither could focus during the session, thus resulting in a quick end to their sparring.

Once everyone had started retiring for the day, she decided to put her plan into action. She had wanted to stay behind or follow Loki down whichever corridor or floor he took; whatever it took to find him alone and confront him.

It had almost worked. Almost. But with Steve in the middle of a serious conversation with her, all she could do was watch out of the corner of her eye as the trickster walked out of the sitting area. Now, had it been anybody else, she could have excused herself without a second thought; she would have amended for it later. But this man - the captain - held an entirely different zone of respect in her heart. Never in her life could she interrupt him.

Luckily for her, the conversation ended soon enough - just in time for her to jog down the corridor where Loki resided but only to catch a glimpse of him as he disappeared into his room.

Damn!

But she had enough! She must know!

Cursing under her breath, she marched determinedly up to his doorstep.

But that was it.

That was where her confidence melted into a puddle. This was not any man that she had to talk to. This wasn’t Bruce or Tony with whom she could discuss the most embarrassing subject and yet turn everything into logic and science. No! This was the biggest crush of her life, staggering on the verge of becoming - perhaps - the love of her life! And she was going to ask him if he has been having filthy dreams about her just as she has been having about him! Could it be any more complicated!!

Fiddling with her fingers, she stood for a while in front of the closed door, replaying the plan over and over again in her head.

Okay. This is it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask him, and I’m going to solve this mystery once and for-

The door swung open before she could even tap on it! Loki stood at the other end with his brows scrunched up.

Her first instinct was to run. But she stood her ground. Afterall, she had some self-respect, right?

“You have been standing there for quite some time now,” Loki stated but it sounded more like a question.

“Well, I… I was…just passing by.” That weird, sheepish smile appeared on her face again.

Loki sighed. “First, they call me the God of Lies for a reason. And second, your feet are eclipsing the light from the corridor thus making them clearly visible under the door.”

Hanging her head low, she let out a long sigh. “You got me!”

If only she had seen the smile that broke out on Loki’s divine countenance. Or maybe it was good that she had not, for it might have increased her desires even more. They had already started weaving themselves in every cell of her body as soon as her eyes had landed on the god.

“Now, will you tell me what is going on or should I read your mind?” Loki urged.

She was surprised by his confidence! He sounded nothing like the person who had returned with her from the expedition.

Has the affects of the flower worn off of him?

“Loki, I need your help!” She tried to hold his hand in desperation, only to find her own pass through thin air with a green glimmer.

Her plan was to check Loki’s pulse in the guise of holding his hand for help. Had his heart rate been abnormally high, she would have asserted her doubts, and would have straightforwardly asked him if he had been having weird dreams.

What she never expected was to be met with an illusion. The Loki at the door now frowned in worry as she looked up at him in confusion.

Why would Loki create an illusion for talking to me? Why- Wait…

As she walked right through the facade, she saw it all evaporating, eventually revealing the real Loki who was standing near his writing desk. Distress was clearly written on his face. He looked so helpless that all plans and plots vanished from her mind. Her answer was right in front of her. She did not need to play games now.

“You should not be here.” There was an earnest plea in his eyes. “Please, leave!”

The sight of Loki leaning against his writing desk - fingers clenched on the wood so hard that it looked like the desk was going to split in two, face partially covered by hair that was dishevelled from running his hands through it, partially unbuttoned shirt, half-opened mouth and glazed eyes - made her visibly shudder from the electricity coursing through her veins. But that did not keep his desperate words - words which were more like a warning - from reaching her senses. It turned her on and yet worried her.

“Loki, you do not look good. You-you look like you’re in…pain!”

“I told you…” the god’s voice was more strained than before, “you…should not…be here!”

She took two careful steps forward. To avoid anybody else from accidentally walking in, she had softly closed the door behind her. They needed to sort this out between themselves first.

“Loki,” she called soothingly, “if this is about the flower, … you can tell me. … If it helps to know, I…I was…I am…affected by it, too!

The Asgardian’s eyes widened. He swiftly advanced towards her - well, almost did - but quickly retreated back to his safe circle.

“So, you must be-”

“In pain?” She did not let Loki finish his sentence. “Yes! Very much!”

“And,” he continued, “have you done anything to…get rid of it? Or-or soothe it?”

She shook her head slightly. “No.”

A nod, slight for most people to notice, accompanied a whisper of a breath released by Loki.

“And … you are dreaming of…?”

For a short while his question floated between them, searching for an answer. She looked deep into his eyes. Pleadingly. Hoping that he would understand what her tongue was too ashamed to confess.

He probably did. He looked like he did. But he needed assurance, for it seemed too far-fetched for even him to believe that his fantasies could come true in such a miraculous way! He could not be so lucky, could he?

When Loki did not say anything, she decided to say it aloud, all shame be stripped aside.

“You!” She declared. “It is you that I dream of, Loki!”

It took him all his godly strength to hold himself back. But he knew that his resistance was thinning out. The enhanced effects of the flower, her presence in the closed space, and now her confession - everything was making things all the more difficult for him.

“I’m burning for you, Loki!”

And indeed she was! All the things that were triggering the powerful god were affecting this human as well.

Loki inhaled deeply, only to be engulfed in her scent even more.

“I am sorry!” Her lips trembled. Her eyes betrayed her resilience with the first wave of tears. “I know this is all very embarrassing for you. I … I swear, Loki, I never wanted it to be this way! I-”

“I never wanted it to be this way either,” Loki’s words crushed her. Of course, he would never want anything to do with her, not even what could have been a shadow of a romance!

“I had wanted this to be very special,” he continued. “I had wanted to do it right. To court you first, to woo you, to steal a kiss or two from you, and then … and then make you mine.”

His voice was strained, just like before. But his eyes were feral now.

Damn, they scorched her! Loki’s words were killing her!! But her lust-driven-yet-dejected mind could not wrap itself around them. None of it made sense. Why would Loki want to court her, kiss her … “make her his” … ? Unless …

Oh!

The realisation left her shocked and elated at the same time. But she needed enough proof to believe it.

“Are you- What are you saying? Why would you- Loki, I think this is not you but the effect of the flower speaking.”

The god laughed. “‘Effect of the flower’? Darling, I have been having all kinds of thoughts about you for years now! Thoughts that would warm your chest with love. Thoughts that would make you blush crimson! … That wretched flower has only heightened it all And made it unbearable!!”

It was all too much to take in. Her state of disarray - limp shoulders, wide eyes and a half-open mouth - told Loki that she had not yet grasped the entirety of the situation.

“Oh darling,” he spoke with hope in his eyes and joy on his lips, “you do not yet know what the flower was, do you?”

She shook her head in a daze.

“It is called ‘Midnight’s Bane’. Or ‘Boon’, as some like to call it. I found out about it in one of our old books from Asgard.” He took a few slow, deliberate steps towards her as he spoke. “It has some … medicinal uses. But it is famous as a catalyst for … midnight’s activities, if you know what I mean.” The smirk that he wore would have made even an unaffected person’s knees go weak. “It does not make two people fall in love, no! The flower simply increases what one already feels for someone. … And if you are dreaming about me, if you want me just the way I want you, then it can mean only one thing.” Loki placed a gentle hand on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered in response. “That you love me … just the way I love you.”

She did not need further convincing. In one swift motion her lips were on his. Her arms had wound themselves around his neck, pulling him as close as possible.

The dam finally broke.

Loki held her face with both hands, greedily devouring every moan and whimper. In the miniscule break that they took to breathe again, they drank in the sight before them, further intoxicating themselves. (Y/N)’s finger’s began making quick work of the remaining closed buttons on Loki’s shirt. But he was impatient. Removing her hold on them, he pulled the cloth over his head.

If it was humanly possible to be more aroused, (Y/N) certainly had hit the next level. Placing a quick but deep kiss on her open mouth, Loki tugged at the hem of her blouse. The lifting of her arms over her head was permission enough for Loki to pull it up and discard it on the floor.

How and when the rest of the clothes got scattered around the room remained a haze. All they remembered later was that it was somewhere between heated kisses and lots of shameless touching.

Loki picked her up by the hips, and sat her on the writing desk. She probably landed on an old open hardbound. Neither cared.

While his mouth worked on her neck and shoulders, eliciting hisses and moans from her, his large hands travelled down her body, taking note of every curve and plateau, until he reached her thighs. There, they rested for a brief moment, kneading the satiny skin beneath his palms, before venturing towards the soft flesh on the inner side. Very slowly, he parted her legs open, and stepped inside. Her immediate reaction was to wrap them around his slender waist. With her bare heels pressing on his bare butts, she nudged him forward until his arousal was pressed against hers.

Both of them groaned loudly. With hooded eyes they looked at each other, trying to seek the obvious consent that had been there right from the beginning. When her hand wrapped around his length to line him up with herself, he almost swooned.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her.

“I know, and I don’t care. Just take me, Loki! Please! Make me yours.”

He could have come right then simply from her words. With one hand on her back, and the other holding himself, he entered her slowly, passing carefully through the tight wetness.

Loki was aroused like never before, ready to devour the woman sitting brazenly naked in front of him - the love of his life -  and yet, a part of him could never forget to take care of her, to worry about her.

When he had buried himself fully within her, they both rested their heads on the other’s shoulder for a brief moment. It was an outworldly feeling - it seemed like the perfect end to all those years of pining, like the perfect beginning to their story of being together. It felt like the perfect cure to all the burning desire that they had been enduring for the past few days. Most importantly, it felt right. It had never and would have never felt so perfect with anybody else.

(Y/N) patted his backside lightly. As if afraid that he’d hurt her, Loki started moving slowly, carefully. The pace was sensual, romantic but excruciating as well! The drug running in their veins demanded more. Their bodies demanded more.

“Loki, please!”

She did not know what she was asking for but he understood. Steadily but quickly, he accelerated, earning himself sultry moans and breathy chants of his name as rewards. She felt like her body would have given away had Loki’s strong arms not been holding her.

“Oh (Y/N)!”

Hymns of each other’s names and repeated confessions of love brought them closer to release. When his movements started getting sloppy, he reached between  them and placed his thumb on her bundle of nerves. When she cried out and her back arched,he whispered with hot breaths in her ear, “Come with me, love. Please.”

It might have been his ministrations down south on her body or it may have been the way he rasped the word “please”. Some magic worked, and she came crashing down on him, flooding him, drowning him in her ecstasy. That was the final tug on the restraint that Loki had put on himself. He came inside her with a loud moan of her name, surrendering himself to his lust completely.

Thanks to the desk, Loki found some support for his limp body. As they rested on one another and kissed each other feebly, having experienced the most epic orgasms of their lives yet, she eventually came to realise what she had been sitting on. She tried to look but with Loki still buried inside her, it was impossible.

“I think I’m sitting on a book,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Oh?”

The moment he pulled out of her, she whined at the sudden emptiness inside.

Loki laughed. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am done with you, love! Give me a few minutes, and I shall fill you up again.”

The filthy look in his eyes, the promise in his voice, and his tender dominance made her walls flutter that very instant. Loki grabbed her butts and lifted her off the desk, while she wrapped her limbs securely around him.

As he carried her to the bed, his eyes landed on the tattered and soaked pages of the book that she had been sitting on. Pausing in his tracks, he tilted his head and smirked.

“What is it?” She asked curiously.

Following his eyes, she found the poor book - an open testament to their raunchy activities - and clicked her tongue.

“Can you fix it?” She looked back at him.

Stealing one look at her, as though accepting her simple challenge, he held her securely with one arm, and extended the other towards the book, reverting its fate with a subtle move of his open fingers. Once the pages were crisp and readable again, (Y/N) understood the cause of his amusement.

Staring back at them from the pages was a hand-drawn picture of the same flower that caused all these “fateful” events. Her eyes swept through the descriptions about the flower.

“Pale Blue Midnight’s Bane”, the title read. In smaller words, it added, “ Also known as Midnight’s Boon”.

Loki chuckled. “We gave the flower what it wanted. Literally.”

It made her laugh. “Well, at least it put an end to years of misery! We should be thanking it.”

“In a way that it likes?” Mischief was sparkling in Loki’s green eyes.

“Exactly my thoughts!” She resonated.

Loki was not gentle this time as he threw her on the bed and hungrily watched her curves jiggle. She was surprised to find that she rather enjoyed being manhandled by the trickster. He hovered over her like a hunter over his prey, and started his assault on her chest.

“Loki?”

“Mmh?” His mouth was full and his tongue busy.

“Shouldn’t we inform Banner about our discovery?”

“Later,” he exhaled right before shutting her up for the moment with a long and deep kiss that made both their heads spin.

***

Taglist!

@huntress-artemis @evelyn-kingsley @dryyoursaltyoceantears @modestlyabsurd @anukulee @eleniblue @foxherder @thesevendeadlycringes @mysterydiz @lloydmustache

[hananan2]

Hi, are you writing NSFW? Well, my query isn't exactly NSFW, but the elements are present. I was thinking about a reader who is very sleepy (didn't get enough sleep because of exams or some other reason) and being a bit out of it starts telling different things about her love life with her boyfriend. And everyone around her blushes and just says, “Go to sleep please 🥹”. The guy's reaction depends on the character. I was thinking of Leona, Vil, Lilia, Jack, Sebek. I'd love it if you write about it, but if you don't like it, that's fine with me! Only in that case, please reply back that you don't want to write it so I know 😅.

don’t feel bad dw!! I didn’t post requesting rules (I did now!) when you asked so totally not your fault! While I don’t write NSFW, I write some suggestive stuff, which I think is what you’re asking for. I’m also going to take out Sebek and Jack if you don’t mind because not really comfortable with writing minor characters! I’ll do it!! So sorry if this is ooc☹️ I hope you enjoy!���� (btw I’m gonna assume you wanted it as Fem!reader bc you were using her!)

—

To Tired to Think!

Summary: You could hardly get any sleep last night and your tired as hell throughout the whole day, while you’re near you boyfriend and other people, you accidentally slip up and say some things that should have been kept private… How does your boyfriend react?

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit and Lilia Vanrouge!

info: Established relationship, romantic, Fem!reader, suggestive & fluff-ish!

Cw: none!

Leona Kingscholar

You were fighting a war to stay awake the whole day and you were shot 53 times. Thanks to your amazing boyfriend, you ended up taking a nap in the evening, which not only didn’t make you sleepy at night, but delayed all your school work and work in general, so had to get that done at night, which cause you to look like a wobbling, sleepy mess the next day.

but speaking of you Amazing boyfriend who you unfortunately love, here you were in his room, leaning on his chest as you both sat up, his arm was wrapped around with his hand patting your thigh, the room filled with chatter. Jack and Ruggie wanted to talk with Leona about new spell drive game, so they were in the room alongside you guys , and you honestly did NOT care, they were just like kids honestly, you just wanted sleep.

But suddenly a few slurred mutters could be heard from someone and it was NOT about spell drive. “Leona so gentle in bed…. Needs to be more rough….zzz..” all talking ceased.

Jack looked horrified, Ruggie was processing what he had heard, Leona looked stunned too, his hand stopped patting your thigh to listen.

“Lots of stamina though… makes satisfed… happy…” you slurred out, your hands playing with eachother.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll leave… get Y/N the rest she needs… she seems tired… I’ll see you later guys.” Jack walked out flustered, now he knew many things about his house warden he never wanted to know, trauma is very real.

While Jack left with the burden of information, Leona smirked and pay you thigh, his previous confusion wiped away with amusement, “oh? You’re honest, c’mon, I wanna hear what i’m good at doll.”

meanwhile all this happened, Ruggie was laughing his ASS off, he was quaking, Leona questioned how he didn’t wake you up.

“Pfft- oh I never knew you were so soft!” Ruggie cackled between breaths, Leona looked like he was gonna strangle him again, “Maybe I am, now scram or no lunch money.” Leona threatened, oh and that threat WORKED, Ruggie was gone.

Leona looks at you fondly and broke into laughter alone as well, he pay your thigh one last time and ruffled your hair while you absolutely slumped, you were so surprising, it scared him, but it was one of his favorite things about you, never made him bored.

“You have guts in your sleep huh? Telling all our business to kiddos? I’ll have to hear more.” He spoke gently to you with a cocky smirk, but he knew you were tired, and it was pretty much his fault, so he picked you up and placed you on his bed, laying next to you and watched the sun glow on your skin in affection.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil did not approve of you staying up so late! You stayed up late, literally just because you were watching a movie and woke up like a zombie the next day, forgetting you had a test. So that happened.

Seeing this, Vil was upset that his lovely girlfriend was not taking care of herself and went into an obnoxious, but loving and worried rant about how sleeping is vital. But in the end, Vil couldn’t be too mad seeing your small, sleepy eyes and decided that would do your skincare and make you feel fresh, today was condicently the day where Vil had promised the freshmen’s to show them the steps and vitals traits in skincare, he asked if you were comfortable for being the subject and you said you didn’t care so sure!

so here you are, almost falling asleep every few seconds in a soft chair while Vils gentle hands applied product to your face, the room was filled with admiring freshmen, eager to learn from their guru, well, all expect Epel, but hey at least you were here, Rook also came along because of course he did.

While Vil explained why toner was a must-have in your skincare routine, he was interrupted by a exasperated voice, “Your fingers are so nice… so good… everywhere… in bedroom a lot…” you mumbled to Vil like you had forgotten there was a whole audience in the room. Vil’s face turned white

The freshmen gasped, probably their first time they’d been exposed to stuff considering they were all so proper, flutters of “How scandalous!” And “Vil’a fingers…” filling the room. Again though, not Epel, his jaw DROPPED, his expression a mix of amusement and pure terror. Of course, Rook was chuckling, "Oh comme c'est intéressant…” he commentated with an evil grin.

Vil’s cheeks were tinted pink, not knowing what to say, wow you actually made him shit up, good job, Epel would say that. In true honestly, Vil was more worried about you, he didn’t want anyone to make assumptions of you or him for that matter, he knew how kids were, no matter how much he whipped them into shape, they’re still dumb teenage boys.

“Haha my love is so silly, she really appreciates my back massages is all, it’s a trait that all of you should have, it’s very helpful to relax your body before bed and all.” That sounded more freaky somehow kinda?? But it filled the masses of freshmen with “Ohhhhs” and understanding, they commented on about how you were a little tired poor thing and needed rest, so it worked! Of course he did, he’s Vil! “Now now, I expect that all of you have taken note and will use all the references I have taught you in your daily life, so put them to use now and get some sleep all of you.” Vil stated in a firm voice, the freshmen nodded their heads and left, Epel knew damn well that was about no massages, and he was going to interrogate and tease you about it so beware. (Don’t worry you’ll just tell on him.)

Rook left giggling finally and Vil carried you over to his room, laying you to rest, he knew it wasn’t really your fault, he shouldn’t have picked on you when you were so tried, in all honestly, he would have liked what you said if it was in private, but he would discuss that with you later, he slowly kissed your forehead, you were so silly, “Goodnight meine liebe.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Game night is really fun! Not when it’s on a Sunday night thought because Sunday is FAKE. You stayed up all night to game with Lilia and some guy named Gloomurai, leaving you with laughs and joy at 8pm, but leaving you exhausted by 8am. Though today, you were having dinner with Malleus, Silver, Sebek and your beloved for a little family night!

So while the others distracted Lilia as best as possible with wild conversation and Sebek literally cracking his skull open, you finished cooking so no one died, of course, the boys helped you out when they snuck away.

But you were SO exhausted, and eating, wake, filling food really just made you want to pass out more, all of you were sitting and dining at the table, Malleus talking about how he found a hidden gargoyale in one of the schools pillars with a childish joy in his eyes, Sebek congratulating his liege, you and Lilia supporting his hobbies and Silver taking in the moment while he also fought to not land face first into his food like you.

You were muttering praises to Malleus while your fork slightly moved a little, your shoulder leaning on Lilia’s, but soon your mumbling took a turn.

“Lilia knows a lot too… so much… he knows how to work his tongue, fingers, di…” you thankfully drifted off.

Lilia was taken off guard, but soon his expression soon turned into loud laughter, he was slapping his knees, never in his 700 years of life! “Haha—! Infront of the kids wow!”

Malleus looked confused, he is surprisingly,but also unsurprisingly innocent. “Well yes, he has detected poisonous roots in dishes and has bore swords in many altercations with quite skillful precision, I agree with your statement, although, I am not aware of what this Di is.” Malleus commented with his hand on his chin.

more laughter erupted, oh my god this was bad but also not the worst thing ever?

“I ALSO WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE WITH YOU MY LIEGE ON THE HUMAN’S STATEMENT” Sebek declared proudly, crossing his arm over his heart

Silver was awoken with all the cacophony of laughter and Sebek. “Shush.” He gave Sebek a glare, which made him shut up.

“She’s sleeping, father please calm down as well, she needs rest.” Silver spoke calmly, finishing eating. In all honesty, Silver wasn’t asleep in that moment, your words woke him up, and unfortunately for him, he knew what you mean by your statement of muttered words. You hear a lot when people think you’re asleep and a quiet kid. But he chooses to act as if he didn’t hear it, thought there’s an audible twinge of embarrassment in his voice.

“Haha your right son. Alright you lot all best head to bed, you hear me? I’ll take care of the dishes and take Y/N to bed, clean the table.” Lilia said in a more mature voice, though he still had a sly grin on his face, everyone agreed and Lilia flew to his room with you in his arms, setting you on the bed. He looked down at you and pinched your cheek gently. “Cheeky.”

he smiled while covering you in a blanket, kissing the top of your head, you deserves that much. He’ll make sure to treat you to a hearty meal tommorow!

[kissbyoon]

⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“embraced in love.” ₍ y.jh ₎

───── ABOUT all of the ways in which Jeonghan shows his love for you.

⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, slice of life, humour, comfort, angst ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!jeonghan x gn!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing, petnames (baby, love), non proofread ⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 3.5k in total

A/N: for my precious lovie @hanniescookie !!! IM SO SORRY FOR KEEPING U WAITING THIS TOOK TOO LONG HOLY SHIT 🙏🏻 but ily pookie, this is a gift for u for existing ��‿◠

ೀ PHYSICAL TOUCH

Jeonghan has never been the one to show his love through physical touch. While he believes that small touches like hand in hand, a few pecks here and there to let you know that he is there, and a warm hug at the end of the day is romantic enough, he always takes a step forward just for you and hugs you every chance he gets, cups your cheeks out of nowhere to kiss you and run away with a mischievous giggle. Because he is aware of the fact that physical touch matters to you, alot.

“Ew, that ghost’s ugly,” Jeonghan remarks with a scowl, making you giggle.

“When did my Jeonghan become so mean?” You tease, and he scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around yours, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Ever since I started dating you,” he responds. You furrow your eyebrows in amusement, glancing down at him as his eyes stay fixed on the TV.

“And why exactly?”

Jeonghan raises his gaze with a giddy expression, pressing a quick peck to your cheek. “Since I can't fight, I gotta use my words, y’know?”

You caught what he meant, but you had to see how he’d word it. “But who are you gonna fight anyway?”

“People who want you,” he says, straightening his posture and staring down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But you're already mine, unfortunately,”

Bursting out laughing, you lightly smack him in the shoulder as he slumped on the couch further with a giggle.

But amidst all these moments, you fail to catch how Jeonghan is clinging to you somehow. For example, just now—during the playful and light-hearted moment, one of Jeonghan’s arms was circling yours with the other one playing with your hand.

You didn't notice it, again. Maybe it was the way he's so slick and smooth with it, or the way it made you feel so comfortable when his gentle hand held yours because you adored having the one you love nearby.

ೀ QUALITY TIME

Spending time with someone is Jeonghan’s favourite way to show his love for them. Especially with you, he is ready to drop everything just so he could enjoy a peaceful moment with you. Whether it's just being in the same room while doing your own work, or wrapped in each other's embrace—being in each other’s presence was more than enough.

A few hours had passed since you and Jeonghan got on the bed to sleep—with him laying on his back, and your head resting on his stomach as you stared up at the ceiling while he ran his fingers through your hair. There was a comfortable silence between you two, and both of you knew that neither of you were sleeping anytime soon.

“I'm hungry,” Jeonghan broke the silence in a soft voice, careful not to startle you.

“You’re hungry?” You repeated, lifting yourself up by the help of your elbow to look at him. Jeonghan nodded, his lips jutting out in a pout as he rested a hand on his stomach.

Suddenly, Jeonghan sat up, a grin spreading across his face. “Ramen.”

“Huh?”

“We should have a ramen party,” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief as he reaches out to hold your hands.

“Hannie, it's 2 in the morning…” you chortled, observing Jeonghan as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Pretty pleaseee,” he whined, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

How does he always get what he wants?

Sighing, you squint your eyes at Jeonghan, placing your hands over his. “Fine, just for today.”

He broke into a giddy mess, immediately jumping off the bed to follow you to the kitchen.

Whether it was just cooking ramen at 2am, you knew deep down that it was Jeonghan’s way of spending time with you. But nevertheless, you're always grateful for someone who looks forward to doing the littlest and silliest things with you.

ೀ ACTS OF SERVICE

Jeonghan had always wanted to be someone on whom his loved ones can rely on. Someone whose presence is calming, gentle and comforting. And ever since he has met you, it's as if his dreams are coming to life. He loves it when you let him do things for you—be it tying your shoelaces, folding up your jeans when you're at the beach, wiping the corner of your mouth after you're done eating, taking care of you, and many other things you can mention. He is just so grateful that you let him show his love for you in small or big gestures.

It's not like you aren't capable of doing your work.

But sometimes and some days, you just want to return to your apartment after an exhausting day at work and go to sleep without doing any chores. The best example could be today—you’ve had enough of work, and it was frustrating you so much that you'd had to return to your apartment just to see everything scattered around and messy.

With a long sigh, you twist the door key and step inside. You glance towards the living room, eyes widening slowly as you take in the view—everything neat and sorted out, the floor shining clean and not a single thing scattered away.

That's not how you remember leaving your apartment this morning.

It should've been obvious enough, but you still decide to take a look around, leaving your bag on the table beside the front door. The more you walk into the apartment, the more you gasp because each and every corner is clean.

Finally, you enter your bedroom. And as expected, it was spotless with freshly cleaned bedsheets.

As soon as you stepped inside, a familiar smell filled your nose. Then it hit you—it was the scent that Jeonghan always wore, and also your favourite.

Without a doubt, your lovely boyfriend Jeonghan had sneaked in and cleaned the entire apartment. You don't know what you'd do right now if you saw him—kiss him, hug him to death or start babying him.

But the question is, where is he?

Suddenly, the shower switched on—the gentle sound of water tapping against the floor coming from the bathroom filled the silence. Then it stopped, and the bathroom door slid open, revealing Jeonghan in his casual t-shirt and pants with a towel in his hand that patted his damp hair.

There he was.

Before he could even notice your presence, you ran in his direction, throwing your arms around his neck as he yelped in surprise.

“I love you, I love you, I love you sooo much!” Your voice came out muffled as you buried your face in his shoulder. Jeonghan slowly processed everything, face lighting up with a huge grin and his arms encircled your waist.

“Hm? What did you say?” He teased, his body instinctively leaning forward so you could comfortably hug him.

You let out a giggle. He always feels the need to lighten up the mood even though it already is.

“You heard me,” you say, closing your eyes as Jeonghan’s warmth engulfed you. He gently patted your back, rocking you back and forth like a baby.

“Let me hear it again,” he urged in a playful voice.

“No,” you refused, gently poking the side of his waist.

He winced, and you laughed while he tightened his grip around you with a pout. “I feel so unloved these days,” he dramatically sighed, burying his face in your neck and intentionally jutting his lips out in a pout to poke your skin.

“Alright, alright, stop putting on a show.” You lightly hit his shoulder, leaning back to grab the towel from his hands. Reaching out to place the towel on top of his head, you squish his cheeks.

“I love you~” You sing-songed, earning a shy giggle from Jeonghan.

“Me too~” He imitated your tone, adorably leaning down to hide his face on your shoulder. However, his grin dropped when you moved away, causing him to almost fall on the floor.

“You don't even bother to say it back,” you dramatically rolled your eyes, turning away to storm out of the room, leaving a panicked and dumbfounded Jeonghan behind.

“Baby! I love you, I love you!” He repeated, running after you as he threw his arms around your torso, trying to stop you from walking away.

Your exhaustion from work was long forgotten, replaced by the playful and sweet moment between you and the love of your life, Jeonghan. It's the way he doesn't think twice before doing something for you, if he knows it’ll make you happy, he'll do it.

Even if it meant cleaning an entire apartment—for you, he would.

ೀ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

While Jeonghan believes that actions speak much louder than words, it doesn't lessen the importance of it. And so, as much as he shows his love for you, he makes sure that you hear it too. Even if it's during arguments, he wants you to know—it doesn't change the fact that he loves you. And always will.

The silence was a usual thing when you entered your apartment. But the only thing that wasn't usual was the fact that it felt so oddly suffocating.

Like it was laughing at you for being sensitive. Like it was blaming you for everything.

You’ve already had another exhausting day at work, and coming home to this feeling made you want to sit down, question everything and cry yourself to sleep. And you've figured out—that’s exactly what you're going to do.

You throw your bag on the couch, but it slips and falls to the ground. Staring at it, you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to start falling at any moment. You plop down on the floor, not bothering to take off your coat that was overheating for you. Even in the late winter.

A few minutes pass, and you just stare at the ceiling until your drowsiness takes over. Slowly, you close your eyes, feeling it burn slightly—but you ignore it, finally letting yourself sleep.

It had been a day since Jeonghan talked to you. Each message he sent to you to reach out, was left on delivered—making him feel worse than before.

The thought of you getting hurt because of him over a miscommunication was unacceptable. He loved you too much for that to happen. He knew it was his fault too, for not sorting out things like he always does.

Maybe, you needed space. Maybe you didn't want to see him right now. But he wasn't going to let you sleep with a heavy heart, with unspoken words. He wanted to be your safe space because you were his.

What went so wrong that neither of you are in each other’s embrace right now? Whispering apologies like both of you always do even after the biggest arguments?

Did he lose you?

Finally letting out the breath he held in for so long, his hand reached out to knock on your apartment door.

It was a cool, breezy night. Not the kind of weather you'd want to experience in a situation like this.

Jeonghan knocked once, twice, and then thrice. And when you didn't open the door, he sighed to himself.

“Baby,” he gulped down the nervousness threatening to take over him. “Let's talk, please.”

A few minutes pass. The same silence lingered and felt a bit more suffocating for him. His hand slowly reached out to grab the door knob—finding it already unlocked.

His heart dropped.

Without wasting a second, he barged into your apartment. “Y/n!—” as he ran to the living room, his voice trailed off, eyes softening when he found you curled up beside the couch, on the floor.

He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping to the bag beside you. From the way your coat was still wrapped around you like a mess, he could tell you've had an exhausting day.

He stared at you—with the same loving expression, but this time, with a hint of sadness.

Slowly, he made his way, sitting down beside you. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, reaching out to gently push away the hair strands falling on your face.

Your eyes twitched at the sensation. As you slowly opened them, your gaze locked on Jeonghan—who was sitting beside you, with a soft expression on his face. He seemed tired too, with those heavy eyes and light dark circles.

“Hannie…” you muttered, tears starting to roll down your already tear-stained cheeks. You thought you'd have alot of things to say when you see him the next time. You thought you'd give him ‘what he deserves’ even though you're fully aware he wasn't completely at fault.

But when you do see him, your heart always wins over your mind. Your eyes soften at the sight of the love of your life.

“Shh, it's okay,” his voice was gentle just like before. Nothing changed. He reached out to cup your cheeks, his thumb wiping away your tears.

“I'm so sorry,” you choked out, feeling yourself getting weaker and weaker. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. “We'll talk tomorrow, okay? You're too tired for this, love, please just let me stay beside you.”

Allowing yourself to relax against him, you closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing—his gentle pats on your back helping you. You registered his words, and realized that he was right.

You were too tired to do anything right now. Too tired to even cry.

The room filled with silence, only the sound of your gentle breathing audible. And just when you thought you were falling asleep, Jeonghan quietly and softly whispered.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

You momentarily paused, feeling all the negative emotions leave your mind. His words were something you both exchanged every day, but in situations like this, it meant so much more. The reassurance, the gentleness—everything you thought you had lost.

“And I always will.” He added.

Jeonghan leaned down to place a soft peck on the crown of your head, lips curving into a small smile when he realised you were in his arms. He was finally here with you, and you weren't alone.

When the silence filled your apartment again, you realised it didn't feel suffocating anymore. It didn't feel like it was laughing at you for being sensitive, like it was blaming you for everything. It was comfortable, peaceful and reassuring on its own.

And even if you were sensitive or overly emotional—Jeonghan believes he can be the one you can lean on and cry.

ೀ GIFT GIVING

Gifts are the best way to show your dedication and care. Jeonghan isn't the best when it comes to choosing gifts, but he knows he has great taste! But one thing that always prevents him from actually surprising you, is the fact that you are like a detective. No matter where he hides it, or how hard he tries to hide it—you already know somehow. But this time, he mastered the art of gifts and surprises.

“Happy ending!”

It was a perfect evening. The sky lit up with firecrackers, sounds of champagne glasses clinking, a fancy and rich atmosphere—and most importantly, Jeonghan was here with you.

Your highschool had arranged a reunion for all the students that had graduated, which included you and Jeonghan. All of you had talked and talked the entire evening, exchanging numbers and planning out a hangout for next weekend.

It felt like a dream to meet every one of your classmates again, and all the memories flooded back into your mind.

Remembering that it was because of the same high school, that you had met Yoon Jeonghan. It was the same high school where you've had so many memories with everyone, especially with Jeonghan. The high school because of which you and Jeonghan are together, safe and happy.

Everyone had already left the party, except for you and Jeonghan because you both insisted on helping to clean up.

As you stood on the balcony, admiring the gorgeous view outside—a hand sneaked around your waist.

“What's my beautiful girl up to?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent. You smiled, turning your head to peck his cheek.

“Look, doesn't it feel so dreamy?” You asked in a soft voice, turning away to stare at the sky. His gaze lingered on you before he followed yours.

“Hmm… honestly not that impressive.” He remarked, causing you to look at him with a frown.

“Does nothing entertain you, Mr. Yoon?” You bit back a smile.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You should've asked me ‘why', and I'd have the perfect answer.”

You tilted your head, contemplating whether or not to ask away. “Why is it not impressive?”

Jeonghan's ears perked up, and it didn't go unnoticed by you. His lips curved into a smirk, eyes glinting with something mischievous but gentle.

“Because…” he gently turned you around to face him. Your hands reached out to rest on his shoulder while his arms wrapped around your waist. “I've seen something much more impressive and mind-blowing years before.”

You stared at him with a curious look, waiting for him to continue.

“Your beauty.” He leaned down, pecking the tip of your nose. You throw your head back, letting out a laugh as Jeonghan did too.

Finally calming down, you reach over to pinch his cheeks. “When did you get so cheesy?” You giggled, and as he was about to respond—

“Ah, I know,” you interrupted. “Since you've started dating me.”

Jeonghan's eyes widened in amusement as his body vibrated with laughter. “You've memorized each one of my replies,” he chuckled. “I think I'll have to step up my game now.”

“Never.”

“Never? You think I can't step up my game?”

“Nope!” You shook your head.

Jeonghan sighed dramatically, reaching out to take something from his pocket. “It's time to prove myself.” He says, making you confused. He pulled out both of his hands from his pocket in fists as he turned his gaze on you.

“What do you think is in my hands?” He asked, his face painted with amusement at the sight of your confused self.

“I don't know…” You mutter, your gaze shifting from one fist to another.

“Okay, I'll make this easy for you, baby.” He says, gradually opening his fists. And when you took a closer look—both of his hands had a ring. But one of them was a paper ring, and the other was… a real one.

With a shining diamond just in the center, it was so majestic. Just like the one you had dreamt of as a kid—a prince charming offering a ring just like this to you.

And today, it was becoming a reality. Not only the ring, but the prince of your dreams too.

Jeonghan closely scanned your expression, feeling himself getting nervous. You stared at the diamond ring with widened eyes, tears threatening to spill. Jeonghan's eyes softened, and he finally knew it was the right timing.

The right timing to be yours forever.

“Which one do you choose, my love?” His voice was soft, delicate and barely above a whisper, like it was only meant to be heard by you. Your eyes were fixed on the ring, and your mind went blank.

Jeonghan stayed silent, observing you with a smile. He was patient, but when you couldn't answer because of the overwhelming rush of emotions, he took his hand that had the paper ring away and put it back in his pocket.

“I'm guessing this one.” He looked at you as you finally lifted your gaze to look at him. As soon as your eyes locked, his lips curled into a bright smile.

Slowly, he crouched down to one knee—and that's when the tears started to roll down from your cheeks uncontrollably.

“Everybody has a goal in their life, and I do too. One of them is being yours forever.”

You covered your face with your hands, closing your eyes tightly, mentally preparing yourself for the next words.

“Will you marry me?”

Your face lights up with a grin as you stare at him with tearful eyes. You step forward and put your hands on his shoulder, gesturing for him to stand up. And when he does, you throw your arms around his neck, crying out loud like a child.

“I'll marry the heck out of you!”

Jeonghan felt his eyes welling up with tears, so he closed it and hugged you tightly. He laughed at your words, finding you absolutely cute.

“You will?”

“I will.” You choked out, sobbing.

He gently patted your back, trying to soothe you down. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Although this wasn't a gift, but more like a confession, you think this is the best gift you've ever received. And the best gift Jeonghan has managed to give you without being caught.

Every love story doesn't have a happy ending. You wondered if that'll be the case for you too. But ever since you realised Jeonghan is the one for you, you've never doubted the fact that you'll have a happy ending.

This is it—your very own happy ending with the one you dreamt of spending your entire life with.

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved @kstrucknet. ღ

[dovesdreaming]

I NEED NEED NEED HARRY HOOK THATS TOTALLY OBSESSED W READER!! LIKE HE’D DO ANYTHING FOR THEM

i think it would be more interesting w/ an auradon kid but isle is totally fine lol! just let them get together at the end!!

thank you in advance!!

I’m glad I met you

May change title yet

I’m obsessed with this request and really hope it’s as good as I wanted it to be! Thank you for requesting hope you enjoy <3 (this is my 50th post already 😱)

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none

When the barrier came down Harry expected nothing of it. He was ready to cause mischief with the Auradon people. He hadn’t met anyone from there before but he assumed that they were stuck up and wouldn’t want to associate with isle people, Harry thought it wouldn’t be long before they tried putting a barrier back up again.

Harry was enrolled to the school and he wasn’t expecting anything he was interested in to happen, especially not from the big welcome they did for all the new students. He could already tell this was gonna drag well, that was until he saw you.

He was assigned to shadow you for the week so he could get to know the school and the classes. Harry was suddenly interested in what this school had to offer, or more so you.

He was immediately infatuated with you. He wanted to follow you everywhere and luckily just for this week he could. You would spend all day together and part to go to different dorms yet Harry would still think of you til he feel asleep, you were constantly on his mind. Similarly, Harry had grown on you since his arrival. You had been keen to be a welcomer for the isle kids because you felt they deserved a chance and you wouldn’t listen to certain kids that were opposed to it. You wanted the isle people to feel welcome and here you were halfway through the week of Harry shadowing you. It had been amazing so far, much better than you could have ever thought. You had become close friends fast as it turned out you shared the same humour and his quick remarks he made during class would always make you laugh. You ended up even spending your breaks and lunch with Harry because you couldn’t get enough of his presence.

When the end of the week came and Harry got his time table you were praying that you shared at least a few classes together. It turned out that you did in fact share classes while not all like the past week, it was enough to satisfy both of you.

Since Harry had joined the school there hadn’t been a dull day. He joined your group of friends and he managed to get along with many people. While he had become better behaved he hadn’t completely given up his ways, he managed pull quite a few pranks off with many not being tied back to him. He had even managed to convince you on occasion to join in, you didn’t know how he did it but you guessed it had something to do with the way he would lower his voice to a deeper tone and that pirate accent of his.

Many months of being friends with Harry had made you both feel very deeply for each other, it coming to a head one night when you were sitting on a roof you had snook up onto together at night under the stars. In the quiet, no words needed to be spoken as you and Harry were comfortable in each others presence. As you both turned to look at each other the air felt heavy with many unsaid things. Harry made a move first and slowly leaned in. You hurried the moment along and crashed your lips into his. From that night on it was a whirlwind of feelings. The love you shared was exciting and new, you had never felt anything like it.

Harry was obsessed with you and he would say it all the time himself. He worshipped the ground you walked on and he would follow behind you everywhere you went if he could. You had changed him and he became malleable at your will. He would listen to every thing you said and would hold onto to your every word. He would still act tough and domineering in public but behind closed doors he would beg for the smallest drop of your attention. It was like a switch and initially it had shocked you to see such a stark difference in personalities. But you loved every inch of him and he would say the same for you, he would be forever grateful for the barrier being brought down and cursed whoever for it not being brought down a while ago so that he could have known you sooner.

Headcanons:

-Would want you to wear his clothes so that they would smell of you. He would want the name of your perfume so that he could always have your scent near by but it would never be the same as you, something was missing. Would be the type to hug your pillow if you ever couldn’t be with him at night.

-Would put his hat on you and immediately fall in love, would fall to his knees at the sight and would always beg you to wear it.

-Would always flirt with you and his weakness would be if you ever flirted back. He would become besotted with you and become silent from the rush of emotions it caused within him.

-Would be so whiny. Would never want to leave your side behind closed doors. Just wants to be in each others arms all day.

-He just couldn’t get enough of you once you were together. Would love staring at you and into your eyes. He could listen to your voice forever.

-would always have a picture of you close by. Whether it be in his pocket, it tucked away safely in his hat, he wanted you close to him. Would also always be taking photos of you and would catch amazing candid shots of you where the light in your eyes shone.

-He may not have much but he would do whatever he could for you. He offered you his all and would hope it was enough for someone like you.

-With how obsessed he was with you he would have doubts about not being enough for you, especially with his background. You’d be quick to reassure him with words and kisses though.

-Overall though Harry is smitten and no amount of teasing would ever change the way he feels for you. You make his heart beat and have made him a better person, he could never be more grateful for having someone like you be in love with him.

Thank you for reading!