#and she thinks if i had a partner that would be more likely

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[aestherin]

I CAN SEE YOU

track 02: make me

Given how much you loved making art, you could've held so much more exhibitions by now, if it weren't for the immense dread that comes with it. Not because of the exhaustion, but because of your own blood.

"Great! This is great!" Your father laughed, continuously patting your shoulders at the sheer delight of seeing the surges of people arriving at the gallery.

Funny, how they were very light pats yet never fail to weigh you down.

"Now you have to make better artworks so that the next exhibition could be better too!" He grinned. Still keeping you beside him, your father's eyes roamed around until he found a business friend of his. He gracefully nodded at the said friend's direction. In your family's dictionary, this gesture was meant to be an invite.

"Nice exhibition, [Name]." The stranger remarked as soon as he got near you and your father. "When's the next one?"

They both laughed.

And you found it sickening.

Was it really that funny to make light of your hard work and effort? Why are they talking about it as if it was easy to do? As if your paintings were mere commodities — machine-produced, basic, and standard.

Or maybe you were the problem. Maybe you were over-analyzing stuff and putting meaning into things that shouldn't and didn't have them in the first place. Maybe these two men were saying these things because they believe in you and your ability. Maybe it was a good thing.

Maybe you were in the wrong, thinking that they did not really appreciate what you just put out.

But was it really wrong to feel frustrated when people keep expecting more, when really, all you wanted at that moment was to take a break?

"Uhm —"

"You should start on the next one as soon as possible."

The additional statement of the stranger in front of you did nothing to quell your restlessness. One of your brows raised subtly without you noticing it.

"Actually, I plan to take a little break," you abruptly replied. You internally winced at how your voice sounded. The usual mask coating your words — the mask of softness and calmness — was absent. Instead, what seeped through was impudence.

And in the presence of your father, that was tantamount to committing a grave sin.

You fucked up.

The man in front of you just nodded and smiled awkwardly, bidding hurried yet still formal goodbyes to your father.

"[Name]!" Your father wasn't roaring, but there was an underlying threat to his deceivingly calm voice. There always was. "That is not how we talk to our business partners."

'Your business partner, father,' you thought.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was merely exhausted."

He clicked his tongue. "A lifetime of learning etiquette and still making minor mistakes as a full-grown adult? How disappointing."

You remained silent.

"You better hope that disrespect you showed to him earlier wouldn't affect our long-term business relationship with them, unless you want to end up like your disappointment of a cousin."

He's talking about Eula.

Your elder cousin, who to you, was everything but a disappointment. How is it that they disapprove of her, when the only thing she has ever done was follow her dreams and speak for herself? How is it that they view her as a failure, when she was what you looked up to?

Perhaps, you might've even envied her. Her guts.

If you had them, you would have cut off the whole family a long time ago as well.

You took a deep breath, donning another calculated smile as you saw more people approaching.

I CAN SEE YOU — scara x reader smau

prev . masterlist . next

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @aries-afk @aetherialcrafter @jamieexistss @lordbugs @aerisellesuchi @adres-tia @luvlockettt @kinichval @miiltrix @suzueuieeeee @automaticpatroltragedy @ahirusstuff @kyuki07 @kunikuni1819 @hungryreadingaddict @deariroha @rosieyama @slayzzz @tired-jaz @mellowberrie @kyouzki @riabriyn @ravenbc @lalalaloveallmydays @moonlitreveri3 @skyoverkill1 @xiaomainlmao @phoenix-eclipses @yomishen @anemosmybeloved @iaraluvs @kunikuzushiit @lockandkeys @yoursockstinks @idkwhattoputasmyusernme @d1gital-data @shyentsmissingink @liuaneee @najaemism @mywillt0live @aswiftiechildofapollo @toekissers @meigalaxy @nishiriks @executeher @verafunny @gl00muraaii @lily-isalittlegirl @just-a-hopeless-romantic

[voxslays]

You need to do a NSFW Alphabet - Hwang In-Ho version🤫🫣

NSFW ALPHABET — HWANG IN-HO

A/N: 😏

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 ၴႅၴ Very cuddly. In some sense, In-ho is terrified of you leaving him like his first wife. He knows he can’t handle another loss, and in a way, he feels like holding you will stop you from leaving him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 ၴႅၴ For In-ho, he doesn’t really have a favorite body part on himself. I honestly think he could care less. Meanwhile, for you, In-ho is definitely a boobs or thighs guy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 ၴႅၴ I don’t think In-ho is the type to have any ‘secrets’ when it comes to intimacy. With the people he cares about and cherishes, I doubt he’d keep much from them. He seems like an honest man with you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

 ၴႅၴ Very experienced. He is an older—yet extremely attractive—man, who not only had an ex-wife (may she rest in peace), but several other partners as well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 ၴႅၴ Breeding press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 ၴႅၴ Very serious. I don’t see In-ho as the type to make jokes on the regular, and definitely not during your intimate time.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 ၴႅၴ A professional romantic. In-ho knows just what to say to you every single time. His words are a mix of degrading and praising—but mainly praising.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 ၴႅၴ Nope. Why would he? He has you!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 ၴႅၴ Breeding kink. I’m not sure if these count, but he also loves creampie and cockwarming too! Possibly a lactation kink aswell…anything that involves you carrying his child.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 ၴႅၴ The bedroom or office.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 ၴႅၴ Fast, but sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 ၴႅၴ Absolutely not. Never. He likes to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 ၴႅၴ Maybe…? I don’t think so though. He’s been doing it for a long time and he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 ၴႅၴ I’d say a 3-4 on a regular night, and maybe 4-5 if he’s pent up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 ၴႅၴ Haha…nope!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 ၴႅၴ In-ho is usually a pretty fair man—unless you are being bratty. Then he just has to remind you of your place by edging you for what feels like hours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 ၴႅၴ Bro is trying to get you pregnant on a regular basis.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 ၴႅၴ Very slowly—if at all. Like the salesman, I think In-ho is a very light sleeper, because he knows the dangers that his job brings both you and him.

[oikarma]

don't look back in anger

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: she knows it's too late as she's walking on by. or: all the times you have talked to max verstappen since that night.

a/n: more angsty than the first part? a lot more written stuff 🤕 sorry if you don't like that kinda thing.

part one

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by f1 and 3,279,148 others

kellypiquet: To us, and to many more years together 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

view 69,501 comments

user1: oh my god it's happening!!!

user2: about time he put a ring on her finger...they've already had a kid together

user3: eh eh, eh eh, i just want it to be you

user4: can we normalize not bringing up people's exes in the comment sections of their new partners? user5: @/user4 max and yn weren't even exes get your facts right user3: @/user4 what 😭 it's a cute song and they're getting married user6: my chronically online ass cannot comprehend how people like yn's songs but don't know about the lore behind them

yourinstagram: congrats, kelly! * liked by kellypiquet

user7: maybe max is the problem guys. user8: @/user7 like if his situationship and his fiance can get along so well.. user9: i would crash out if my ex best friend slash maybe soulmate commented on my fiance's post and said congrats to HER and not me user10: women supporting women 💪

user11: the ring is so pretttyyy

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ONE.

The sun has started to dip, gold strokes across the pearly white decor. Around you are guests and heightened murmurs. Of course they're excited: it's Max Verstappen's wedding. A world champion among the greats.

You're still standing there, left by a few guests who wanted to offer their thoughts on your music. Their words were kind and well-meaning, but all they did was remind you of how queer it was. That you were at Max and Kelly's wedding. Sweat beads pile on your forehead, threatening to ruin your makeup; the dress feels heavy, too heavy. It might suffocate you. You straighten your back and take a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out.

"You came."

Max's voice is low and hesitant, but it easily breaks through your train of thought. His words are just placed out there, like he's not sure if he has a right to say them at all. They sit there in front of you, an ache, a question.

There's a knot in your stomach. This was a bad idea.

"Kelly invited me." Your voice is steady, yet it sounds distant. Like someone else is speaking your lines for you, making things alright. You don't want to be here anymore. Not like this. "What did you expect? That I wouldn't show up?"

Max's hand trembles. He wants to step closer, you think. But he can't. Not like this. Not now.

"I didn't know if...you'd want to see me," he stammers.

You stiffen at his words, remembering the clear boundaries between the two of you. The paparazzi aren't here: it's a private event, at his insistence. But there are others, others who are watching and listening Max Verstappen talk to the girl who wrote an album of songs about the love she could not return him.

A sharp breath escapes your lips. You don't want to deal with this. Not now, when you're both standing on the brink of something final.

"Max, this is Kelly's wedding." Your voice hardens. "Your wedding. She’s about to marry you. So whatever you think this is—whatever it was—it doesn’t matter anymore."

Max looks at you, his jaw tightening. An old habit, you remember, as he chews back the words he can't say aloud. A part of you wants to reach out to touch his face.

It's up to you, as it always has been. He wants to say something, to reach for the words that will make you understand, but he knows it’s too late for that. The realization dawns on his eyes. The past is too tangled, too complicated. And Kelly is waiting for him to be by her side.

"I never meant for things to end like this." His voice cracks slightly, and it’s clear that the weight of your history is crushing him. He takes another step forward, almost against his will. "I asked for too much. I'm sorry I hurt you."

The silence between you two feels thick, stretching longer than it should. Max’s eyes soften at your words, but you can see the hesitation in him, the part of him that wishes he could do more, be more for you. Enough.

And it hurts in a way that you don’t want to admit. Not here, not now.

You should walk away. This conversation isn’t for this moment. But you can’t move. Your feet are cemented to the ground, and Max is standing too close.

"I just... I miss you," he whispers, his voice breaking under the weight of the noose he's never fully escaped.

A shiver runs down your spine at how raw his voice is. Your chest tightens.

There it is. That thing you’d been trying to ignore. You miss him too. In ways that make no sense when you look at him, standing there, about to tie his life to someone else.

You wish things were different. You wish that you could let yourself feel what he’s offering. You’ve wondered, countless times, if you made the wrong choice. If you had let yourself fall, would it have been easier? Or would it have just destroyed you both in the end?

Max shifts his weight, his gaze never leaving yours, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes, the hope flickering there like it might ignite. It almost makes you want to step forward.

Almost.

But you know better. You can't.

"I..." You swallow, your voice rough. The words scatch in your throat. "I can’t do this, Max. Not now."

His face falls.

You hate that you’re creating this distance, but you have to. It’s the only way to stop both of you from falling back into this mess you've never cleaned up. Writing your songs was supposed to help and it only worsened your what-ifs.

You force yourself to breathe again. "You're about to marry Kelly. You can’t look back at me now, Max."

A long silence hangs between you two. Max opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You know the truth. Sure, you've asked yourself if your intuition was right. But you know. You’ve always known.

You can barely hear him when he lands the last blow. "I never stopped loving you."

It's too real. He's struggling and you can hear it in his voice. This was a bad idea. This is his wedding. You can feel your walls crumbling at his words, the things you’ve buried beneath the surface shaking loose, but you push it all back down. You have to.

"Don't," your voice cracks. You can't hear anything but your own words and your heartbeat. "Please don't."

The two of you stand there. Life keeps moving forward, people laughing, and you think the piano is going to start soon. It's going to mark Kelly's entrance. And Kelly's entrance it is, into Max's life. For good.

For good.

You have to walk away.

And you take that first step back, away from your first friend. The first thing in your life that fit like it was made for you; never to be broken apart.

It still doesn’t stop the ache in your chest, but it's the right thing.

Max breathes in behind you, such a staggered sound it could be a plea for help.

You move toward your seat, hoping he will not look upon this moment too badly. That one day, in the future, his anger will have left him and he will realize this was your last act of love: to help him, even when it means breaking his heart a little bit more.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lando and 1,792,164 others

f1gossipofficial: Lewis Hamilton was spotted this weekend in Monaco hanging out with Y/N L/N. They collaborated on Y/N's debut album, even sharing a kiss in the music video for "toxic to the end." Is a romance brewing? And how does Max Verstappen feel about all this?

tagged: yourinstagram, lewishamilton

view all 61,382 comments

user1: oh...max..

user2: oml he's literally MARRIED he's OVER. HER. it was four years ago. why does no one understand?

user3: this feels so intrusive but whatever. why are you taking pictures of them grocery shopping together 😭 let them live their life

user4: i love how lando is casually liking this.

user5: @/lando WHAT DO YOU KNOW lando: 🤐

user6: i literally said this as soon as the mv dropped. Y/N girl you have the sexist man alive as your friend MAKE A MOVE

user7: they have such good chemistry though!! did you see the rimowa interview??? same vibe, they're so adorable user8: so much better than her and max...am i right?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago hemsworthss

Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet calling it quits.

You might call me insane. You might say nothing official is out, but I think this might be true. As of October 2025:

Kelly unpinned both the pregnancy and the marriage announcement on her account. This is odd: she's had both up there since she made the posts. It probably isn't a matter of her clearing her feed or anything, because her Vogue shoot is still pinned. I looked for the post on her account and it was GONE. I looked for the pregnancy post on Max's account and she was no longer listed as a collaborator. Max was never a collaborator on the marriage announcement.

She's been posting a lot with P and the young 'un, but Max isn't in any of them. In his Team Redline streams, Max is always alone. Neither of his kids has appeared. Judging from the locations on her posts, she and her kids are on vacation in Europe.

Kelly wasn't at the last two Grand Prixes. She posted a story of her watching one on the couch but that was it. Neither of her kids were there, either.

Max has been posting more recently and he's been spending time with friends over family. Lando has him in a few dumps: playing paddle, Max even holding a guitar. Who plays guitar? Y/N L/N but that's not the point. Max is learning new hobbies and spending alone time.

I think I'm right. And if DeuxMoi has anything to say about a famous athlete/model couple filing for divorce, I'm placing my bets on Max and Kelly. Thoughts?

dannyric03: I don't want to believe it. He's so happy with the kids. Fatherhood suits him well.

↳ AppleBiter12: But fatherhood and marriage are different things. I thought maybe they got married because they thought the child would bring them closer. And it didn't.

hamiltons8th: I don't know. It seems debatable. Maybe they're just taking a break. It has been a stressful season so far.

↳ FantasyFox719: Right. But Max loves his kids, of course he'd want to spend time with him. I can't think of why he wouldn't spend his time between races (as he normally does) with his family instead of colleagues. ↳ hamiltons8th: @/FantasyFox719 Well him and Lando are best mates, something like that. I do think it's odd he's not with his kids. Maybe Kelly suggested it.

PeacockJazz450: Unrelated but did you see the news about Y/N and Lewis?

↳ hemsworthss: I did, actually. I think they're a very cute couple (if they're dating) that complement each other's personalies and goals very well. Lewis is very career-focused and so is Y/N. Love both of them lots. Even if they're friends I'm sure it's a great relationship. ↳ PeacockJazz450: @/hemsworthss Lol. I agree. Maybe Max crashed out after seeing that and decided he needed a break too 😂 There was this one tweet going around that was like "Imagine winning in Abu Dhabi 21 but losing the love of your life to the man you beat." ↳ hemsworthss: @/PeacockJazz450 Oh that's diabolical. Celebrity drama is bad enough but so many of the drivers are bops and their dating life is mildly concerning. Very interesting though. ↳ PeacockJazz450: @/hemsworthss At least Y/N hasn't dated anyone that we know of. I hope it folds out well.

ApplestoApples: if it's true that's such a shame. they've only been married for a year or so.

↳ 5_vettel: Agreed. But celebrity relationships never seem very stable.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kellypiquet has added to their stories

[ caption: family first 🧑‍🧒‍🧒 ]

replies:

user1: the one parent?? the two kids?? KELLY DID YOU SPLIT

user2: uh oh...

user3: max what did you do this time

user4: hope you're okay queen!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by ladygaga, lewishamilton and 3,184,932 others

yourinstagram: left the door open and this DIVA walked through 📢 "APT." is out now & you can watch it live at my burnout mini tour!!

🔗 tickets on sale at ynln.com/live

tagged: brunomars

user1: new album? y/n??

user2: BRUNO DELIVERED OH MY GOD

user3: first lewis now bruno how is she getting all these icons for collabs 😭 actually insane her team must be working overtime

brunomars: don't forget to drink dance shower and freak

user4: not him saying shower instead of smoke lolol bruno being a responsible man as always

user5: i hear the dating rumors

user6: max verstappen. did you see the kiss? i bet you saw the kiss

user7: watch him block you on insta user8: two more boys y/n has kissed now and none of them are called max verstappen!

user9: could not be more proud of you queen 🤍 from starting an acting career, to dropping an insane album, and to collaborating with huge artists. i'm sure you'll keep doing great things and no one can stop you. * liked by yourinstagram

user10: what does this mean for her and lewis ☹️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

TWO.

The crowd is still screaming as you scramble down the stairs, face flushed and out of breath. Sweat clings to your skin and your chest rises and falls, the adrenaline still coursing through you. Everything feels infinite, all the love shown out there drowning out your doubts and your past.

"Hell of a show you put out there, rockstar."

Lewis Hamilton leans against the table with your glass of water on it. His arms are crossed, an easy grin on his lips. He's dressed like he belongs here—which, admittedly, he now does.

He already knew about the concert: you couldn't wait to tell him when Bruno. Mars. Called. You. It wasn't exactly good timing, him just finishing the Mexico City Grand Prix the day before, but he came anyway. And dressed impeccably, at that.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing the glass. "You're just saying that because you got backstage treatment."

Lewis chuckles. "You know I mean it. You were unreal. When's the album coming out?"

"Hold on, hold on. Don't rush me. Give me a podium celebration first, will you?"

He tilts his head and you can't quite breathe. He says you were unreal but he's unreal. It still shakes you, sometime, how such a wonderful and caring and completely perfect man picked you to be his...friend.

You keep it at that word for now, but appreciate how good he looks with shades pushed back into his braids.

"Depends. You up for a champagne shower?"

Nothing flusters you like Lewis's quick wit.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. "Not in this dress, I’m not."

Lewis chuckles, his gaze lingering on you for half a second longer than necessary. "Shame. Would’ve been a pretty memorable moment. We'll have to reschedule."

You're aware of how close he is. How the conversation feels lighter than it should. How his presence is grounding in a way you don’t often get anymore. Your thoughts are wandering again, eyes tracing the curve of his mouth and—

The air shifts.

It’s subtle, like a drop in temperature. Like something's pressing against your ribs. You feel the presence and you know exactly what it is.

(Or maybe it's the fact that your team has gone completely silent. No more hurried congratulations and squeals in the background.)

Max.

He’s standing just a few steps away, lacking his usual Red Bull gear. His hair is all messed up, as if he got off a plane and came straight here. His jaw is set, his hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes flicking between you and Lewis. There’s something there—something simmering behind that calculated look of his.

Your grip tightens on the water bottle.

"Didn’t expect to see you here, Max." Your voice is even, but it takes effort.

He exhales sharply, shifting his weight. "You think I'd miss this?"

The words are simple, but the matter is not.

Lewis, ever observant, stays exactly where he is—relaxed but present. "Didn’t know you were a fan of good music, mate." His voice is smooth. Yet deliberate. You can't do this right now. Why does he have to show up whenever things in your life are getting good?

Max’s gaze flickers to Lewis, and for a second, something almost like amusement tugs at the corner of his mouth before disappearing just as quickly. "I've been listening for years."

It lands heavier than it should. Your pulse jumps and both of them are probably aware of it. Max isn't talking about the music.

Max’s eyes stay on you, searching. "You didn't think I'd come, did you?"

You exhale carefully. "I didn't...invite you."

Max’s jaw tightens. "Well. Here I am."

It's too much. The weight of his words, the way Lewis is next to you—grounding, solid, present—and Max is just there looking like he's trying to figure out how everything slipped through his fingers.

The air between the three of you stretches, taut and fragile. Max’s words still hang there—Well. Here I am.

You shift under Max’s stare, your grip tightening on the water bottle still in your hand. Your throat feels dry.

"What do you want me to say, Max? That I expected you to come? That I thought about it?"

Max exhales sharply. It pierces you like a knife. "I don’t know. Maybe." His voice is lower now, almost bitter. "You never wanted to talk about it."

His voice is rough when he speaks again. "Tell me you don’t think about it."

You are acutely aware of Lewis's presence, but Max is slowly taking over your thoughts.

You inhale sharply. It's all you can do. "Max—"

"Tell me you don’t wonder."

Your throat tightens.

You do. You have.

Some nights when the lights are off and the city finally shuts itself up, you let yourself think about it. About him and the moment he kissed you. The way his voice cracked when he said your name.

But you also remember the fear. The way you couldn't have let yourself fold—not then.

And now?

Now, Lewis is here. Steady and patient in ways Max never was. Lewis, who has never asked you for anything more than what you could give, who doesn’t need you to be anything other than what you already are. Lewis, who will let himself be just a friend. Lewis...

You glance at Lewis instinctively. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something softer in the way he looks at you. He understands.

This, Max notices.

His jaw clenches, the vein in his neck jumping. His hands curl into fists at his sides and then relax so fast you could've missed it. Is it for show, all of this? Does he want you to think he cares or not? He exhales, looking away for a brief second. Just enough to compose himself. When he looks back, something about him is more guarded.

"Right," Max says, much quieter. He nods, more to himself than to you. "I get it."

But the problem is that you don’t think he does.

Despite everything, despite Lewis, despite the way you had chosen to walk away.

You still...

Max lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Right. Because it’s never the time, is it?"

Not this. You flinch, because he's right. You don't want to talk about it. How he kissed you, drunk but so eerily sober in the way all his thoughts came out at once. The weight of everything in between the two of you spilled over, something you weren't ready for. About how, even now, sometimes you catch yourself missing him before you remind yourself why you had to leave.

The fear is back.

Your whole life had began to shift, focusing on you. Y/N L/N, rising actress. People talked about you...and your friendship with Max. What it was. And if you had let yourself feel something for him—if you had let yourself fall—what would have been left of you?

"There was nothing to talk about," you say. It's hollow, like another word could crush it into smithereens.

Max's mouth purses into a thin line. "That’s bullshit. You know it."

You're too aware of the people in the room, again.The way Lewis is still there, watching but not interrupting, not yet. The way Max is standing too close, and yet not close enough.

You shake your head, only able to reiterate all the things you've already told him. "This isn't the time for this."

Lewis shifts beside you then, speaking for the first time in minutes. He's had enough. His voice is calm, smooth, but there’s something sharper beneath it. Water over rocks, threatening to split the waves any minute. "If you're looking for something from her, maybe you should ask yourself why you didn’t do it when it actually mattered."

Max turns to Lewis, his posture stiffening. There's a respect between the two, but spite typically taints it. Now? No malice—just frustration, just regret. Just something ugly and old between all of you.

You close your eyes for half a second, steadying yourself. When you open them, Max is looking at you again, waiting.

But he’s always been waiting, hasn't he?

And you?

You’ve always been running. From what? you wonder now. From something real?

Something has changed. Now you're not sure if you're tired of running or just afraid of what happens when you stop.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

kellypiquet and maxverstappen have added to their stories

replies:

user1: so it was true??

user2: praying for you kelly <3

user3: 5 bucks it has to do with y/n and whatever he did when he showed up at her concert

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

THREE.

The coffee shop is cozy, the kind of place you go when you want to be alone with your thoughts. You're sitting at a corner table, flipping through your phone. Doomscrolling, they call it.

It’s been a while since you last saw Max—months, maybe. His divorce from Kelly was all over the media, and yet, here you are, sitting in the same coffee shop as him. The silence is louder than any of the questions you had when the news first broke.

You didn’t expect to run into him today.

You'd also thought you were over all of it. Buried, deep down. But when his voice meets your ears, it's all coming back.

"You still like this place, huh?" Max sounds like he's been thinking about his question for a while.

Glancing up, surprise flickers across your face. "Max...didn't expect to see you here."

He stands there for a moment, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. You feel the awkward tension rising like steam from your mug.

“You’re hard to avoid these days,” Max says, his words coming out almost casually. "Guess we keep bumping into each other."

You raise an eyebrow, setting your phone down. “We never really bumped into each other before.”

Max’s lips tighten for a moment. Caught. “No. I guess we haven't."

Neither of you move. Then, Max steps forward, hesitating just slightly before sitting across from you.

“Nice seeing you. Didn't expect it to be here."

You nod slowly, unsure of how to respond. "Yeah...well, things change."

Vulnerably flickers in his eyes. You haven't seen that in a while. "They do," he agrees.

It's unfinished, this mess between you.

"I know things got complicated," Max continues. "I shouldn't have pushed you. I didn't mean to make it worse but I did."

You want to say something—anything. But the words are stuck. Everything: the kiss, the distance, all the memories you've shared. They're all under the surface, waiting for someone to make sense of it all.

Instead, you try to find your footing. "Max...what are we even doing here?"

Something like the Max you used to know. He's less guarded, less distant. "I don't know. But I don't want things to be like this. No forever."

You swallow hard. You want to respond, but there's too much going on in your head.

Max breaks the silence. Again. This time, he's more quiet. "So, what about him? Lewis?"

The way he says it makes you wonder. Jealousy? Not that, he's past that. But it's a question wrapped in old pain. He wants to know. He always has.

You lean back in your chair, letting out a soft sigh. "What about him?"

Max’s eyes are searching. "You're...close. Do you, I don't know, care about him?"

The answer isn't as simple as either of you would like it to be. There's a part of you that wants to spill out all the feelings. That you don't know. Still don't.

"He's good to me. I don't know what else you want me to say."

It's not the answer he wants to hear, but he nods anyway. "Yeah, I get it."

The past is complicated, and the present is no less so. There's a peace with Lewis. But Max...Max has a way of making everything feel unresolved.

You bite your lip, unsure if you should talk more. You want to say something that makes sense, that will give both of you the closure you need. The truth is, there's too much unsaid. Unresolved. It's sitting there, loose strings and all.

"Maybe we never had the chance to figure it out. It wasn't just about what we felt, Max. It was everything else too."

His expression tightens. Like the words aren't forming right. The old ache is there in his words, in his face. They never healed. "I was an idiot, wasn't I?" he mutters.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on that when he's already beat himself up for half a decade. "We were both...confused. We had different things to figure out."

You can't place the look in his eyes. "Maybe. But I was never just confused about you. I was scared of losing it all. Of losing what we could've had."

It hits you in the chest. Then, the words come out before you can stop them. "Max...we shouldn't leave it like this. I don't want to leave it. Again."

"So what does that mean?" His voice is hopeful, though he has his doubts.

It won't be the same. That's impossible.

"I don't know. We'll have to figure it out." You hesitate before taking out your phone. "Maybe we can...talk more. Not lose touch again."

A smile breaks across his face, though he tries to hide it. "That sounds good. I'd like that."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

did you like this? i wanna make a part three. it's like...closure but not completely, you know? there's still a lot for them to deal with and also lewis! beautiful beautiful lewis! messy max or lovely lewis ? 🤨

[bunny-jpeg]

sweetness like wine

fernando alonso

request: “she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” with Fernando Alonso with Stroll!reader 71. “she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.”

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), stroll!reader, "innocent"!reader, doggy style, dirty talk & pet names

eros (the valentine's day collection)

your giggles were sweet. fernando alons for a long time couldn't figure out what kind of sweet. because while most saw lance's sister as the epitome of sweet. fernando knew that there was a heat to you, a certain kick that would leave most out of breath.

you made be like candy around the paddock, those around you hooked on your ability to make anyone you spoke to smile. dressed in soft whites save for the aston martin hat your brother made you wear. you were divine almost in the early summer sun.

but fernando didn't think of you as fluffy like cotton candy or tooth rotting sugary like milk chocolate. no, you were sweet the way wine was. it went down easy and quenched fernando's thirst.

to his surprise, the innocent stroll daughter wasn't as sweet as most first expected.

“she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” was what fernando said to mark the last time they spoke to one another only a few weeks prior.

both men's gazes lingered on you when he made the comments. he had thought about it as you came to visit your brother and father on the track again. you had the summer off from your lovely graduate program overseas. neither your father nor brother knew what you got up other than your grades were spectacular.

fernando had an idea, but no confirmation that you were anything but a sweet virgin. that was until you bent over to adjust the strap of your shoe that he saw it. your behind was marked awfully dark for someone who is so innocent. it didn't look like an unfortunate sunburn, but rather bruises.

he smiled wickedly as he approached you quickly. when you stood back up he placed a hand on your arm and when you turned around he looked at you with those dark eyes of his. he said lowly, "be careful, i don't think you want everyone to see what you got up to last night."

your hand went to your behind and your eyes went wide. before you could say anything, he chuckled.

"not so innocent after all. i'm guessing you often have flavours of the week with your sexual partners." he leaned in a little bit with a hand casually on your hip. no one was watching you two, but your attention was solely on fernando as he asked, "why don't i be your flavour this weekend?"

you hated to admit it, you liked the older driver. your brother had a poster of him from a magazine that went 'missing' one afternoon. you nearly ripped the spine of the magazine trying to get it out. and now to have fernando alonso himself proposition you for sex. who were you going to deny him?

you swallowed and replied quietly, "will you be gentle?"

he pulled you in marginally closer, less to be close to you and more to establish dominance, "why would i do that? you wouldn't like that one bit." you also hated to admit that he was completely right.

-

fernando's hands felt good on your skin. it was the kind of feeling the enraptured you. it felt good, his hands were soft but strong. he had a grip as he touched your breasts that made your soul sing. there was a throb between your legs as he explored your covered skin.

"i see why your family is so protective of you. touching you is like touching an angel. your father made sure to send you to a university that would keep you away from trouble. but, your little rebellion is having men use you like a toy." he palmed your breasts, "you like it, don't you?"

"don't talk about my family right now. not right before we're going to fuck." you whined.

"mmm, well. since you asked so nicely. but, i want to know. where are you supposed to be tonight? i know your father asked." fernando said lowly as he started to unbutton your top. slowly he exposed your soft breasts to him. framed nicely by your bra.

you swallowed, "i told him friends were in town. i would be with them, they're nowhere here tonight. but my father trusts me." you looked away for a moment but fernando took you by the chin to look at him.

"well, not a total lie. i am a friend to the family. but tonight, i am something more more to you." then with a little help you got your shirt off and soon your bra.

you ended up on the bed and fernando got your skirt off of you, followed by the skimpy pair of panties, and even the short white socks you wore. you were naked on the bed and frenando gripped your sore ass. you hissed and jolted but he kept you pinned. you were naked and soon fernando was too.

"you look good like this, bent over for me. so precious that way, do you know how to be a good girl?" he asked softly. he pressed his forearm into your back again to keep you bent, "do you want to be my good girl?"

you nodded meekly and he rubbed his cock up against your entrance a little bit. you whined and attempt to squirm. but you weren't going anywhere, not unless fernando allowed it. it made sense that someone like him would get off to pretty young things who liked to be smacked around during sex. freak.

but then again, so were you. and as he sank his cock into you. you near bit the pillow to keep from being too loud. after all, your brother was in the next room over and you were supposed to be nowhere near the hotel. you shuddered under him and felt the swell of lust in your body.

fernando's pace left your core hot and his words felt like warm honey in your head, "mmm, that's a good girl. see, no need to be spanked until you were bruised." he made a pleased noise, "you're so agreeable, so soft. i love it. i can see why your family worries, something so whorish yet so sweet should be kept locked away." he kissed the shell of your ear as he rocked against you.

what a display you two made, to have fernando rut up against you aggressively.

there was a certain experience that fernando carried that left you holding on tightly to the covers. he was mature, but still carried heavy stamina that made you gasp into the covers like you were a virgin. he worked your body in a way that made everything run hot in your body.

"fuck, that feels good. fuck, that's it." you gasped as you arched your back and held on tightly. he fucked like someone your age, but had the ability to make you cum. his pace was punishing and full of force, it made the pleasure get knocked out of your mouth with sweet noises.

it was an intoxicating feeling, something about him just made you gasp and whine for more. you wanted him, you wanted him deeply. the sexual surge in your blood made you move yourself on his cock to meet his thrusts.

fernando held onto the back of your head and pushed your face into the pillows then shifted your hips to get better leverage of your sweet pussy. he let out a low groan as he continued to move against you. the pleasure was wrapped up around him, the feeling was hot, even without the implications of it. your cunt felt nice around him. your noises egged him on and he couldn't wait to get another feel of your sweet breasts. you really were the full package, and fernando thanked a lucky star that he finally got the chance to enjoy your beautiful body.

"you feel amazing." he mused, "i cannot believe i haven't tasted you before. you could get anything you want with a body like yours. a dangerous weapon for a girl your age."

you swore into the covers and let him continue to ravage you. the pleasure was a curl in your gut and you held on for dear. the hotel pillows were your only support while fernando fucked you. you wanted more of this, your braid, muddled with pleasure, was trying to figure out how to go to the next few races. you loved your family, but it was nothing compared to how fernando made you feel in that moment.

every other man you had been with had been blown out of the water by the pleasure fernando gave you. his thrusts were long, hard and fast, paced perfectly to rub up against your sweetest parts. it made you whine a little bit, only for fernando to push your face further into the covers.

"be good for me." he said, "i don't want to make that ass go purple. doesn't match the green of the team." he kissed the side of your neck as his thrusts became shorter but the force behind them was still there.

he laid his weight on you to keep you pinned with movements that made your thighs tremble. you weren't going to last much longer, not at the speed he was going. not with the heavy pleasure in your head. you could feel your head throb from the head rush.

"you feel like a dream." he said softly, "maybe i should keep you. i'll protect you, adore you, fuck you until you can't stand. isn't that what you want? someone to satisfy you?"

fernando's pace started to become erratic, the rhythm was sloppy as you reached your orgasm. he watched you fall apart under him. you came around his cock and tensed up. he continued to rut against you, the bed shook under the both of you as you tensed up then relaxed from the peak of pleasure. everything felt hot all over,

"beautiful." he sighed happily before he continued to fuck you with a feverish pace. everything felt hot all over and he couldn't get enough of you. when he came, he made sure every inch was inside of you before he finished. he painted your insides white as he slowed to a stop before he pressed his forehead against your sweaty back.

you laid out next to him and he held your face while he kissed your flushed face. you smiled lazily and said, "i have a feeling this won't stop after tonight."

"oh no, my love." he chuckled, "i have to find out what makes you scream and see if you're a good girl to not let anyone hear." <3

[iamquiantrelle]

THE NEW WAG IN TOWN (chapter 1)──iamquaintrelle

# pairing: william saliba x black oc (☔️✨💕)

# wc: 11.2k

# tags: @formulafortyfour @kennasutopia @saleeba @anifffff @jessnotwiththemess @irishmanwhore @snowseasonmademe @oceanfanatic06 @ibouchouchou @haartemis @judectrl @peyiswriting @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @sucredreamer @eriks-girl

# summary: yasmin thought that dating wilo would stay private - until someone caught them at tesco and posted it online. now she's gone from quiet grad student to arsenal wag overnight, with thousands of new followers and wags begging her to join their brunches. all she wanted was to finish her degree and date her defender in peace, but as the spotlight grows brighter, she wonders if their private world can survive in this public circus.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ masterlist

Three days had passed since a Dairy Milk craving changed everything. Three days of Yas's phone vibrating itself into oblivion, of her twist-out staying in a messy pineapple because clinical rotations were kicking her ass, of trying to pretend she wasn't all over Arsenal Twitter because she'd dragged a sleepy Wilo to Tesco at midnight. The TikTok was everywhere now - her 5'5" frame drowning in his Arsenal hoodie while his 6'4" self reached for top-shelf chocolate, both of them clearly caught up in their own little world until a fan's "Can I get a picture?" turned into way more than they'd bargained for. The original tweet sharing the TikTok already had more than 50k likes: "SALIBA GOT A GIRL?? Caught at Tesco late night shopping 👀 Who is she??" and it was only getting worse.

At least she had Jamie, her clinical partner at King's College London's PT clinic, to keep her sane through it all. Jamie, who was currently failing to hide her grin while updating patient charts.

"Your boyfriend's coming in for his knee check today, right?"

"Stop calling him that at work," Yas hissed, but couldn't help smiling. The whole thing was still wild to her - meeting Wilo four months ago at Dishoom, that Indian spot all her classmates insisted she try when she first moved from Chicago. She'd been struggling with the menu (why were British-Indian portions so different from American ones?), and this tall guy with the deepest French accent she'd ever heard offered to help. She didn't even realize who he was until her friend kicked her under the table and frantically texted "THAT'S WILLIAM SALIBA" while Yas was busy trying to understand his accent.

She was checking her schedule when Wilo appeared in the doorway, and honestly, it should be illegal how he managed to make ducking through standard-sized doors look graceful. His training gear hung perfectly on his frame, and Yas had to remind herself that she was a professional who definitely wasn't thinking about how that same frame had been pressed against her in the Tesco snack aisle three nights ago.

"Bonjour," he said softly, his accent thick as honey as he sat on the treatment table, those long legs dangling. "Comment ça va?"

"English in the clinic, remember?" she teased, going through her standard range of motion checks. Her hands stayed steady even when his skin was warm under her touch. She'd practiced these movements hundreds of times, but somehow they felt different when it was Wilo watching her with those dark eyes. "How's the knee feeling after training?"

"Better with your exercises," he replied carefully, concentrating on each word in that way he did when he wanted to make sure she understood. His accent always got thicker when he was trying his hardest with English, and god help her, but it was adorable. "But you… are you okay? These past days…"

"I'm fine," she assured him, testing his knee stability and definitely not thinking about how her tiny hands looked against his leg. "Just focusing on my patients. And trying to keep up with your accent when you talk too fast."

"Me?" he laughed, the deep sound filling the small treatment room and making her fingers tingle where they pressed against his knee. "You are the one speaking like…" he paused, reaching for his phone to translate something, and she had to bite back a smile at how predictable he was.

"No phones during treatment," she reminded him, gently pushing his hand down. "Now tell me if you feel any discomfort here…"

Jamie wasn't even pretending not to watch them from the charting station anymore. Yas could feel her friend's amused gaze as she went through the motions - professional PT student Yasmin, definitely not thinking about how this same man had sleepily followed her to Tesco just because she'd played the girlfriend card. Her hands stayed clinical and precise while Wilo watched her with that soft look he got whenever she went into healthcare mode, the one that made her heart do stupid flips in her chest.

"Flex and extend for me," she instructed, her professional tone slipping when he purposely moved extra slow, those dark eyes twinkling. "Stop being difficult."

"I am following instructions," he protested, his accent getting thicker with amusement, wrapping around the words like warm chocolate. "You say slow and controlled, non?"

"I didn't say glacial," she muttered, but her hands were gentle as she checked his range of motion, careful with this man who could body strikers on the pitch but acted like her PT sessions were torture. "How was training this morning?"

"Arteta made us…" he paused, frowning as he searched for the words, and she had to resist the urge to smooth the crease between his brows. "Comment dit-on… extra drills? Because Luton Town this weekend."

"You better not be overworking this knee before a match," she warned, pressing slightly on a tender spot that made him wince. His leg was solid muscle under her hands, a reminder that for all their playful moments, he was still one of the Premier League's top defenders. "See? Still tight here."

Jamie's poorly hidden laugh echoed from the charting station. Everyone at the clinic had seen the TikTok by now but watching them here, you'd never guess they were trending. They were just... them. Yas with her clinical precision masking how her skin tingled wherever they touched, and Wilo with his accented teasing that got thicker whenever he was trying not to smile.

"Your stability's better," Yas noted, switching to her assessment voice even as his warmth seeped through her professional walls. "But you need to ice after training, I can tell you haven't been."

"Too cold," he complained, and the way his accent wrapped around those two simple words shouldn't make her stomach flip like that.

"Too bad. Doctor's orders."

"You're not doctor yet."

"Almost. Now do your hamstring stretches and stop arguing with your PT."

Jamie's pager went off like a lifeline through the tension that was building in the small room. She threw Yas a knowing look before heading out to help with exercises in the main room, leaving them alone with all their unspoken moments.

Wilo waited until the door closed, that heavy silence settling between them. "Gabriel keep asking about you. Want to know if you're coming to dinner at his place tomorrow."

"I have clinic notes to finish," Yas said, focusing on stretching his hamstring and not on how his muscles flexed under her touch. "And that thing with your knee isn't going to document itself."

"I tell him you're busy being smart," he smiled, then winced when she hit another tight spot. "Aïe! Doucement..."

"Baby," she teased, even as her hands gentled automatically. "And here I thought defenders were supposed to be tough."

"Only on pitch. Here?" He gestured to the treatment table, his dark eyes dancing. "I am delicate patient."

Before she could process it, his arm was around her waist, pulling her between his legs where he sat on the table. Even sitting, he was nearly at eye level with her standing. "You sure you okay though? No crazy people following you to work?"

"I'm fine," she said, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism even as his hands settled on her hips, warm through her scrubs. The clinic suddenly felt too small, too warm. "The school's pretty good about security."

"Mm," he hummed, accent getting thicker as he leaned closer, and god, he knew exactly what that did to her. "Maybe I should come to more... what you call them? Clinical hours?"

"Pretty sure that's not what you meant," Yas laughed, not needing any translation app to catch his tone. Her hands rested on his shoulders, forgetting all about PT protocols. "And you're supposed to be doing your exercises—"

Her words cut off in a yelp as he squeezed her ass, the sound hanging in the air just as Jamie walked back in.

"Dr. Morris wants us to– oh!" Jamie stopped short, fighting a grin as Yas jumped away from Wilo, her face burning. "She needs us to shadow her on a shoulder manipulation."

"Coming!" Yas said quickly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, straightening her scrubs with as much dignity as she could muster. "Behave yourself and ice that knee."

Wilo just grinned, all innocent eyes and devastating smile as he slid off the table. "Bye Jamie," he called out, throwing Yas one last look that promised this wasn't over before ducking out the door, taking all her professional composure with him.

"So," Jamie drawled as they headed down the corridor, her voice dripping with amusement. "That's what professional PT looks like these days?"

"Shut up," Yas muttered, adjusting her scrubs and trying to will away the heat in her cheeks. "We were just–"

"Just doing some hands-on therapy?" Jamie wiggled her eyebrows. "Very hands-on from what I saw."

"I'm not above tripping you in front of Dr. Morris."

"Worth it. Also, you've got a little…" Jamie gestured to her own lips, and Yas quickly wiped away the ghost of her goodbye kiss, shooting her friend a death glare that only made Jamie grin wider.

The rest of her clinical hours dragged by in a blur of patient assessments and charting, her phone occasionally buzzing with texts from Wilo - mostly French words she had to Google Translate, each one making her bite back a smile. By the time she finally finished her notes, the London evening had turned that particular shade of grey that meant rain was coming.

Her phone lit up just as she was packing up.

"You still at clinic?" Wilo's accent was somehow even deeper over the phone.

"Just finished. Why?"

"Look outside."

She peaked through the clinic windows to find him leaning against his Range Rover in the parking lot. A few students were trying (and failing) to subtly take photos, but he seemed focused only on watching the clinic door.

"You're supposed to be icing that knee," she said as she walked out, trying to sound stern even as her heart did that stupid flutter thing once more.

"I did ice." He pushed off the car, closing the distance between them in those long strides of his. "For ten whole minutes."

"That's not–" but her professional PT lecture was cut off as he pulled her into him, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other settled on her waist. She had to tilt her head all the way back to look at him, and his eyes were soft as they traced over her tired features.

"You look exhausted, mon cœur."

"Clinical hours are no joke." She let herself lean into him just a bit. "Not all of us get to play football all day."

His laugh rumbled through his chest where she was pressed against him. "Non? You want to try defending for Saka this weekend?"

"I'd rather do another eight hours of charting."

That earned her another laugh, and then he was bending down to press his lips to her forehead. "Come, I take you home. Maybe stop for more chocolate?"

"Don't even joke about Tesco runs right now," she groaned, but let him guide her to the passenger side, his hand warm on her lower back. "I still can't believe that girl posted the video."

"Mm," he hummed, helping her up into the seat even though they both knew she didn't need it. "But now I can do this whenever I want, non?" And he leaned in to kiss her properly, slow and sweet, before pulling back with a grin. "No more hiding in snack aisle."

"You're impossible," she muttered, but she was smiling as he closed her door and rounded the car to the driver's side.

The Range Rover hummed quietly through London's evening traffic, some French rap playing softly through the speakers. Yas had gotten used to Wilo's driving habits by now - how his huge frame somehow managed to look graceful even behind the wheel, one hand on it while the other alternated between the gear shift and her thigh. He drove like he played, confident and smooth, those long fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel to the beat.

She was half-dozing, lulled by the warmth of the heated seats and the familiar mix of his cologne with that fancy car freshener he used, when she realized they weren't heading toward her flat and was rounding the corner to his building.

"What are you doing?" She turned to find him wearing that particular expression she knew too well - the one he got when he thought he was being slick, the one that usually preceded with her scrubs ending up on his floor.

"Taking you home," he said innocently, but his accent had that particular thickness to it that had nothing to do with language barriers.

"I don't live here, Will." But they both knew she had more clothes in his drawer than she'd admit to, and her favorite coffee mug had somehow migrated to his kitchen cabinet.

"Sometimes you do…" he smirked as he pulled into his private parking spot. "And I figured we could… finish from what happened at clinic?"

"I'm still on my period, or did you forget the main reason we even visited Tesco in the first place?" The same Tesco run that had blown their private bubble wide open, though looking at him now, with that glint in his eye, she could almost laugh about it.

"A little blood–"

"Don't you even dare," she threatened, pointing her finger at him which he playfully tried to bite, earning himself a smack on the chest. "You're gross."

"I'll just put down a towel. The least I could do since you got the period," he huffed, and she realized with a start that he wasn't entirely joking. Ever since they'd made things official, he'd been more… careless. Dropping comments about knocking her up - which, okay, was hot as hell in the moment, but outside the bedroom? Major yikes.

"William, no babies until a ring is on this finger and I'm finished with my program." She waggled her bare ring finger in front of his face for emphasis, trying not to think about how his eyes tracked the movement. "We're too young to even talk about babies anyways. Like what is the reason?"

"We'll make pretty babies," he said with that devastating smile of his, the one that made her forget she was supposed to be the responsible one here.

"No shit."

"But?" His eyes were twinkling now as he killed the engine, the sudden silence making everything feel more intimate.

"But you know the rules. No more talk about this please. You're giving me a migraine."

"You know what could help with migraine?" He was fully grinning now, one hand already reaching for her seatbelt while the other played with the ends of her twist-out.

She couldn't help but scoff at him, even as her body betrayed her by leaning into his touch. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Impossible? Non," he murmured, his accent getting impossibly thicker as he leaned across the console. "Just... what you say? Determined?"

"That's one word for it," Yas muttered, but didn't pull away when his fingers traced down her jaw. "Will..."

"We don't have to do anything," he said softly, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Just... stay. Watch a film. Let me make you dinner."

She raised an eyebrow. "You mean let me watch you struggle with UberEats for twenty minutes?"

"So mean to me," he pouted, but his eyes were dancing.

"No I’m not."

"Come on, mon coeur." His hand had moved to the back of her neck now, playing with the hairs that had escaped her pineapple. "Your flat is cold and empty."

"Because someone keeps stealing my hoodies."

"You steal mine first!"

"That's different," she protested, even as she was already reaching for her bag. "I look cute in yours. You stretch mine out with your giant... everything."

His laugh was deep and warm in the confined space. "Giant everything, eh?"

"Don't make me hurt your knee again," she threatened, but they both knew she was going to follow him upstairs. She always did, especially when he looked at her with those soft eyes that made her forget about clinical hours and Twitter drama and everything else.

"You wouldn't," he said confidently, finally pulling back to get out of the car. "Who else let you practice your PT stuff?"

"I have other patients, you know."

"Oui, but are they as pretty as me?" He was already at her door, opening it with that stupidly charming grin of his.

"You're so–" but her words cut off as he helped her down, using their height difference to pull her flush against him. Even after months, it still made her breath catch, how easily he could maneuver her smaller frame.

"So what?" he whispered, bending down so his lips brushed her ear. "Tell me, docteur."

Yas immediately stepped away. "Annoying."

The private elevator ride to his penthouse was torture - not because of the height (though Yas still wasn't used to the way London sprawled out below those floor-to-ceiling windows), but because Wilo had her pressed against the mirrored wall, one huge hand spanning her waist while the other played with her edges.

"You're messing up my hair," she complained halfheartedly, tilting her head back against his chest.

"It's already messy," he murmured, accent thick with suggestion. The elevator dinged open to his floor before she could reply, and he guided her out with that hand still firmly on her waist.

His penthouse was exactly what you'd expect from a 23-year-old footballer - all clean lines and modern furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city lights coming alive in the dusk.

"You really need to do your dishes," she said, trying to maintain some semblance of responsibility even as he walked her backward toward that ridiculous couch.

"Later," he promised, those dark eyes fixed on her in a way that made her forget about dirty dishes and clinical notes and everything that wasn't his hands sliding down to her hips. "First..."

"Will," she warned, but her body was already betraying her, melting into his touch. "I told you–"

"Just kissing," he assured her, but that smirk said otherwise. "Unless..."

"Don't even finish that sentence."

Her warning lost some of its effect when he stepped closer, backing her up against the back of that massive sectional. The city lights sparkled behind him through those floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows across his features that made him look unfairly gorgeous. Sometimes she still couldn't believe this was her life now - Arsenal's star defender looking at her like she hung the moon, all because she couldn't figure out Indian food portions four months ago.

His hands found her waist again, and the height difference meant she had to tilt her head all the way back to maintain eye contact. That soft smile he reserved just for her played at his lips, and really, clinical notes could wait, right?

"Fuck," Yas breathed as his lips found that spot behind her ear, his hands steady on her hips. "Will, I swear to god–"

"What?" he murmured against her skin, all fake innocence even as he guided them down onto the sectional. "I'm being good."

"You're being something," she managed, but then he was kissing her properly, and honestly, clinical notes could wait. Her fingers found their way into his hair as he settled over her, careful to keep most of his weight on his forearms.

"Still have headache?" he teased between kisses, and she could feel his smile against her lips.

"Shut up," she groaned, tugging his hair in retaliation. "You're so annoying."

"Mm, but you like it."

"Sometimes I don't know why."

His laugh rumbled through his chest where it pressed against hers. "Because I'm your favorite patient."

"You're my most difficult patient," she corrected, but then his mouth was back on her neck and she lost whatever else she was going to say. Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, earning a low sound that she felt more than heard.

"Will," she warned as his hands started wandering. "I told you–"

"I know, I know," he sighed, pulling back just enough to look at her with those dark eyes. "Just kissing. But tomorrow..."

"You're impossible."

"You keep saying this word. I don't think it means what you think it means."

She blinked up at him. "Did you just quote Princess Bride at me?"

His grin was devastating. "Maybe I pay attention when you make me watch your American films."

"Oh my god," she laughed, shoving at his chest. "Get off me, I can't believe you just–"

But he was kissing her again, swallowing her laughter, until she finally pulled back with a sigh. The look in his eyes was nearly enough to make her forget about her cramps. Nearly.

"Fine. Go get the towel."

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Really?"

"Before I change my mind." She could already feel herself blushing at how eager he was about this whole situation.

"I can't wait to cum inside you," he breathed against her neck, and she actually had to pause, her hands frozen where they'd been playing with his hair.

"What the fuck, bro?" She squinted at him, torn between laughing and being genuinely concerned about his sudden breeding kink. But he was already jumping up from the couch with entirely too much enthusiasm, nearly tripping over his own long legs in his haste.

She could hear him rummaging through his linen closet, muttering in rapid French that she was pretty sure she didn't want translated. This man really was going to be the death of her - all 6'4" of pure ridiculousness, Arsenal's fearsome defender reduced to excitedly hunting for towels.

"I'm ready, sweetheart!" his voice called from somewhere down the hallway a few seconds later, accent thick with anticipation.

Yas shook her head, fighting a smile as she got up to follow him. These football boys really were something else. She started undoing her scrub top as she walked toward his bedroom, wondering how exactly this had become her life - sneaking around with William Saliba, letting him convince her into period sex just because he looked at her with those puppy dog eyes.

"The things I do for you," she muttered under her breath, but she was smiling as she pushed open his bedroom door.

The morning sun filtering through Wilo's floor-to-ceiling windows was entirely too bright, and Yas's lower back was complaining about last night's activities. She could hear him in the kitchen, his deep voice rapping along to some French song while pots clanked suspiciously.

"Never again," she groaned into his ridiculous Egyptian cotton pillows. Her scrubs from yesterday were scattered somewhere on his bedroom floor, mixed with the towel that was definitely going straight into the wash.

"Mon coeur?" His voice carried from the kitchen. "You want eggs?"

"I want ibuprofen," she called back, finally dragging herself out of bed. She pulled on the pajamas she'd left here last time after their little fun - one of his old Arsenal training shirts that hit mid-thigh and some shorts she'd had to tie extra tight to stay up.

The shower in his ensuite was heaven, hot water beating away the soreness while she tried not to think too hard about last night. The sound of Wilo's terrible singing mixed with the smell of what she hoped was breakfast and not another kitchen disaster.

His expensive body wash made her skin smell like him, and she couldn't help but smile at his array of hair products. For someone who kept his hair cropped short, he sure had a lot of opinions about conditioning.

"Is something burning?" she called out as she wrapped her hair in one of his towels.

"Non! Maybe. Come see!"

God help her, she actually loved this ridiculous man.

Yas padded into the kitchen after pulling on another one of his t-shirts and a pair of leggings, finding Wilo attempted to flip an omelette, his large frame making the spacious kitchen somehow feel smaller. He was shirtless, just wearing low-hanging sweats, still rapping along to whatever French artist was playing through his expensive sound system.

"You better not mess up my eggs," she warned, leaning against the counter.

"Non, non. I am professional." He turned to grin at her, and her breath definitely didn't catch at how his eyes darkened seeing her in his shirt. "Sleep good?"

"You're not slick. And we're never doing that again."

"But–"

"Never. Again." But she was fighting a smile as she stole a piece of bacon from the plate next to him. "I can't believe you convinced me."

"I am very convincing," he smirked, then cursed as some egg stuck to the pan. "Merde–"

"Move," she hip-checked him away from the stove. "How are you this bad at cooking when you live alone?"

"I have you now," he said simply, but the way his hands settled on her waist from behind made it sound like so much more. "And UberEats."

"William."

"Mm?" His chin rested on top of her head, and she could feel his smile.

"You're distracting me from saving your breakfast."

"Good. Maybe we can–"

"If you suggest what I think you're about to suggest, I'm burning your omelette on purpose."

"I was just going to say maybe we can have breakfast in bed," he protested, but his hands were wandering again.

"You're the worst liar." She expertly flipped the omelette with one hand while swatting his wandering fingers with the other. "Don't you have training?"

"Later." His lips found that spot behind her ear. "Arteta won't mind if I'm little late."

"Arteta absolutely will mind." But she was already tilting her head to give him better access. "Will, the eggs–"

"Let them burn."

"I'm literally holding a hot pan right now."

He reached around her to turn off the stove, then spun her to face him in one smooth motion. Sometimes she forgot how strong he actually was until moments like this.

"No more period sex," she said firmly, even as her hands settled on his chest.

"But–"

"But nothing. My back is killing me."

His grin was absolutely wicked. "Worth it."

"I hate you."

"Non, you don't." He bent down to kiss her, morning breath and all, and okay, maybe she didn't hate him that much. "You love me."

"I love when you're not burning breakfast," she corrected, pushing him away. "You're going to be late." Yas plated the rescued eggs while Wilo scrolled through his phone, still pressed against her back.

"Bukayo just texted. Practice pushed thirty minutes." His accent was muffled against her neck. "More time for–"

"More time for you to actually eat breakfast." She twisted out of his grip, grabbing both plates. "And I need to go home and change before clinicals."

"Skip them."

"Some of us can't just tell our boss we're taking a personal day." She settled at his massive kitchen island, watching him pout as he finally let her go. "Besides, don't you have that big Luton Town match this weekend?"

"Oui, which means I need my PT check today too…"

"Your knee is fine. Jamie can do your check."

The look of betrayal on his face was almost comical. "You would let another woman touch me?"

"I would let another PT student assess your perfectly healthy knee, yes." She took a bite of eggs, raising an eyebrow at him. "Unless you're saying you only come to the clinic to see me?"

"Maybe."

"That's unprofessional."

"Says girl wearing my shirt."

"Speaking of which," she glanced at her phone, "I really need to go home and change."

"Stay," he said, suddenly serious. "Just… five more minutes."

"Five minutes won't get me to clinic on time," she said softly, but shared her eggs with him anyway when he opened his mouth expectantly. "You're like a baby bird."

"Your baby bird," he grinned, then disappeared down the hall to deal with their mess from last night. She could hear him humming as he tossed the towel and her scrubs in his washer.

The drive to her flat was quiet, London morning traffic crawling by while some French podcast played softly through the speakers. His hand found its way to her thigh, thumb rubbing absent circles.

"About Gabriel's dinner…" he started.

"Will–"

"Just think about it? And maybe…" he glanced at her quickly before focusing back on traffic. "Come to match this weekend?"

"They'll take pictures," she said quietly. "I'll be all over Twitter again."

"So? Let them." His accent got thicker, more urgent. "I want you there. Want to see you in stands."

She played with his fingers on her thigh, considering. "Maybe. If I finish my coursework."

His smile was brilliant. "A year left, non? Then you're properly doctor."

"Doctor of Physical Therapy," she corrected automatically, but she was smiling too.

"Still doctor. Still proud of you." He lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles. "My smart girl."

The Range Rover purred to a stop outside her building, morning sun catching on the tinted windows. Wilo killed the engine but kept his hand on her thigh.

"Give daddy kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows in that ridiculous way that shouldn't be attractive but somehow was.

"Don't get punched in the face today," she said, gathering her bag from where it had fallen between her feet. Her scrubs from yesterday were safely in his washing machine, which meant she'd have to see him again soon. Not that either of them was complaining.

"Kinky," he smirked, and the way his accent wrapped around the word made her cheeks heat.

She rolled her eyes but leaned over anyway, meaning to give him a quick goodbye peck. His hand caught the back of her neck though, fingers tangling in her hair as he tried to deepen the kiss. She could feel his smile against her lips when she pulled away laughing.

"Go to work, you menace."

His eyes stayed on her as she climbed out, that dark gaze following her all the way to her building's entrance. She could hear his music start up again - more French rap that she'd probably find herself humming later during clinic hours. Her face hurt from smiling as she headed inside, already thinking about his match this weekend and how public their little bubble was about to become.

The doorman pretended not to notice her obvious walk of shame, but she caught his knowing look. At least she wasn't in yesterday's scrubs - small mercies. Her phone buzzed just as she reached the elevator:

"Miss you already x"

Impossible man.

Her flat felt extra quiet after the morning at Wilo's. She pulled on her dark blue scrub set, the material still crisp from its last wash. Her hair was a mess from last night, so she opted for a slick bun, carefully laying her baby hairs with edge control before grabbing her white clinic shoes.

The kitchen was looking sad. She'd been putting off grocery shopping, caught between clinicals and trying to keep her relationship private. Fat lot of good that did now.

Her phone buzzed while she was staring into her empty fridge:

"Check your Monzo x"

She clicked the notification to find £500 from 'william s.' had landed in her account. They'd fought about this before - she hated feeling like a WAG, and he hated seeing her struggle when he could help. But right now, with three weeks until her next stipend…

"You don't have to do that," she texted back.

"Buy food. Doctor needs eat."

"*future doctor"

"Same thing. Get snacks too."

Her tube ride to the clinic was crowded as usual, London's morning rush pressing in. A teenager across the car was watching Arsenal highlights on his phone - there was Wilo, all graceful power as he tackled some striker. Hard to believe that was the same man who'd been whining about eggs this morning.

Another text:

"Think you wearing my shirt to clinic?"

"Think you should focus on training."

"Think about you instead."

Impossible man. But she was smiling as she swiped through to her grocery delivery app. Maybe she'd order something nice for dinner - she had the money now, after all.

The clinic was already buzzing when she arrived, her ID badge swinging against her dark blue scrubs as she made her way to the staff room. The dual-degree PT program at Northwestern University and King's College London was no joke - three years of intense study, clinical rotations, and practical exams. Sometimes she still couldn't believe how perfectly everything had aligned. A PT student specializing in sports medicine dating a Premier League defender? It was practically cheating when it came to understanding athletic performance and injury prevention.

Wilo's knee might be technically fine, but having access to an elite athlete's biomechanics was invaluable for her studies. She'd basically written her last case study about his post-match recovery routine (anonymized, of course). Her professors had been impressed with her detailed analysis of high-level football injuries - if only they knew she'd gathered that data between kisses and training sessions.

Her phone kept lighting up with Instagram notifications. She'd always kept her account private, just study updates and occasional selfies documenting her natural hair journey. The few photos she had with Wilo were deliberately subtle - his hand in frame during dinner, maybe, or just their shadows on a walk. Most of her posts were about PT school: her notes laid out perfectly, advocacy for more Black women in sports medicine, the occasional stress-relief dance video in her scrubs. But now everyone wanted in, wanted to see Saliba's girl, wanted to analyze every post for hints about their relationship.

"Ready for rounds?" Jamie appeared at her elbow, already pulling up their patient list on the clinic's tablet. "You look tired. Late night with tall, dark, and French?"

"Long night of studying," Yas lied, ignoring another wave of follow requests. An Arsenal fan account had somehow found her private profile and shared her handle. Her follower count was still at 900 but there was nearly 15,000 pending requests in just three days.

The Luton Town match loomed in her mind as she checked their first patient's chart. Wilo wanted her there, and part of her wanted to go - wanted to support him properly, not just catch highlights on her phone between patients. But the cameras, the attention, the scrutiny… she hadn't signed up for that part. Being a WAG meant being perceived, being judged. Her entire career could get overshadowed by who she was dating. One wrong outfit choice and she'd end up on some Daily Mail sidebar.

Her phone buzzed again - another text from Wilo, this time a photo of him pouting at training. Arteta's tactics board was visible in the background, and she quickly typed back: "Delete that before you leak the whole game plan."

His response was immediate: "Only leaking my heart to you x"

God, this man was going to be the death of her professional reputation, but as she slipped her phone away and grabbed her first patient's file, she couldn't help but smile. Let them talk - she had clinicals to focus on and a doctorate to finish.

Her first patient was an elderly man recovering from hip replacement. As Yas guided him through his exercises, she caught glimpses of people walking past the clinic windows, phones raised. Word must have gotten out about where Arsenal's new WAG worked.

"My granddaughter says you're dating that French boy," Mr. Peters said as she supported his weight during gait training. His knowing smile reminded her of her grandfather back in Chicago. "The tall one who plays defense?"

"Focus on your steps, Mr. Peters," she managed, grateful her dark skin hid most of her blush. The last thing she needed was her patients gossiping about her love life.

Jamie appeared like an angel in blue scrubs, tablet in hand. "Dr. Morris wants us in Room 3. ACL reconstruction needs assessment."

In the quiet of the hallway, her phone lit up with Wilo's name:

"Gabriel asking if you vegetarian. For dinner."

"Focus on training," she typed back, trying to ignore how her stomach flipped at the thought of meeting his teammates properly.

"Focus on answering question. He cooking."

She paused at the supply cabinet, fingers hovering over her phone. Going to Gabriel's meant officially entering the WAG circle. Dinner parties, couple photos, Sunday brunches - the whole circus she'd been avoiding. No more hiding in Wilo's kitchen or sneaking kisses in PT rooms.

"Tell him I eat anything," she finally replied, then added, "But I haven't said yes yet."

"But you will," came his immediate response, followed by that damn smirking emoji that she could picture perfectly on his actual face.

Room 3's patient was already waiting, and she tucked her phone away with a sigh. Time to be Dr. Robinson (almost), even if her Instagram kept lighting up with notification after notification.

The ACL patient turned out to be a Chelsea fan, which was almost a relief. He was more focused on his knee than trying to get Arsenal gossip, and Yas lost herself in the familiar rhythm of assessment and treatment. This was her world - proper form, careful touches, the satisfaction of watching someone heal under her guidance.

Her phone stayed quiet through lunch, which meant Wilo was probably actually focusing on training for once. She picked at her sad vending machine snacks in the break room while Jamie scrolled through Twitter.

"Oh my god," Jamie snorted, turning her phone screen. "They're trying to figure out where you got your scrubs from. Apparently you're starting a WAG fashion revolution."

"They're literally standard issue scrubs."

"Tell that to ArsenalWAGStyle. They want to know if the color is 'midnight navy' or 'classical blue'."

Yas dropped her head onto the break room table with a groan. "I have three more sets exactly like this one. They're just… blue."

"Wait till they see you at the Luton Town match."

"Who says I'm going?"

Jamie just looked at her. "Girl, your man just got exposed. You really think you can keep hiding?"

Her phone chose that moment to light up again:

"Miss your hands on my knee x"

"That's so unprofessional," she typed back, but she was smiling.

"Come inspect it at Gabriel's tonight?"

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Jamie was right - she couldn't keep hiding. And maybe… maybe it wouldn't be so bad, being properly part of his world.

******************************************************

Gabriel Magalhães' townhouse sat in one of those stupidly expensive London neighborhoods where every building looked like it belonged in a period drama. Yas had done her best with what she had - her curls were actually cooperating for once, falling in soft waves around her shoulders, and the Meshki jumpsuit she'd scored on sale hugged her curves in all the right places. The square neckline showed just enough skin to be dinner-appropriate while still letting her feel like herself.

Clearly Wilo approved, given how his hand hadn't left her ass since they'd stepped out of his car. His fingers kneaded appreciatively as they waited at Gabriel's door.

"Mon coeur, tu es si belle ce soir," he murmured in her ear, voice dropping low. "Je veux te baiser… si serrée pour moi… faire te jouir…"

She only caught 'fuck', 'cum', and 'tight' in that string of French, and honestly, she was grateful her language skills weren't better. But before he could get any filthier, the door swung open.

Gabriel stood there grinning, all six foot three of him making Yas feel even tinier than usual. The boys did that complicated handshake thing all footballers seemed to know instinctively.

"Ayy, my brother!" Gabriel pulled Wilo in for a quick hug before his eyes landed on Yas. "She's so short!"

Yas frowned. Of course, that would be the first thing another giant footballer noticed.

"But good job Wilo, she's pretty," Gabriel continued with a wide smile. "Nice to meet you, Yasmin." He extended his hand.

"Yas is fine," she said, shaking it and trying not to feel like she was being assessed.

The living room was filled with the sound of multiple conversations in various accents - Portuguese, French, English all mixing together. Bukayo was sprawled on one of Gabriel's expensive armchairs, his girlfriend Tolami perched comfortably in his lap. She brightened when she saw Yas.

"Finally! Another normal-sized person," Tolami called out, extracting herself from Bukayo to come say hi. She was wearing the kind of outfit that probably cost more than Yas's rent, but her smile was genuine. "I'm Tolami. Please tell me you're as tired of looking up at these giants as I am."

"God, yes," Yas laughed, instantly warming to her. "My neck hurts half the time."

"You get used to it," Tolami grinned, then dropped her voice. "Saw that Tesco video. Welcome to the madness."

Wilo's hand was still possessively on her lower back as more introductions were made. Gabriel's wife kissed both her cheeks, speaking rapid Portuguese that Gabriel had to translate. Ben White's wife, Milly, gave her a knowing look that said 'we'll talk later.'

It was surreal, standing here in her sale-rack jumpsuit while these women wore designer everything. But Tolami grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the kitchen.

"Come on, help me get drinks. These boys can entertain themselves for five minutes."

Wilo's protests were drowned out by Bukayo's laugh. "Let them bond, bro. You can survive without touching her for two seconds."

Gabriel's kitchen was all sleek marble and stainless steel. Tolami hopped onto the counter like she'd done it a hundred times before, watching Yas look for wine glasses.

"Other cabinet," she pointed. "So, PT student? That's different. Most WAGs are like… influencers or something."

"I'm not a WAG," Yas said automatically, then caught Tolami's raised eyebrow. "I mean–"

"Girl, your man's hand hasn't left your ass at all. You're a WAG." She grinned. "But like, a cool one. With an actual career."

"Trying to have one, anyway." Yas found the glasses. "How do you deal with all the attention? The Tesco thing is driving me crazy."

"You get used to it. Plus, Bukayo's worth it." Her smile went soft. "Like how Wilo looks at you when you're not watching. Man's got it bad."

"We've only been together four months–"

"Please. I saw him checking his phone all through training today. Saka says he won't shut up about you."

From the living room, they could hear the boys arguing about the Luton Town match. Wilo's deep laugh carried through, followed by what sounded like Bukayo doing an impression of him.

"They're like children," Tolami rolled her eyes fondly. "But they're our children. Speaking of…" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Heard Wilo's got baby fever?"

Yas nearly dropped the wine bottle. "How do you know about that?"

"Bukayo says Wilo's been googling baby names during team lunch." Tolami swung her legs, designer heels clicking against the cabinets. "Like, French-American baby names specifically."

"I'm going to kill him."

"It's cute! Saka's the same way sometimes. Think it's the age - they're all getting to that settling down phase."

"We've barely settled into dating publicly," Yas muttered, pouring the wine maybe a little too generously. "I've got a year left of my program, I can't be thinking about–"

"Ma chérie!" Wilo's voice carried from the living room. "You get lost?"

"Your man's getting separation anxiety," Tolami grinned. "But seriously, stick with me. These WAG events can get intense, but we normal girls have to stick together."

"I heard there's like… brunches? And stuff?"

"Oh honey." Tolami hopped down, grabbing the other wine glasses. "Wait till you see the group chat. But don't worry - I'll help you navigate. Just… maybe wear something Arsenal-colored to the Luton match? The fans eat that shit up."

"I haven't said I'm going yet–"

"Your man's starting defender and you just got exposed. Trust me, you're going." She started toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and heads up - some of the other WAGs might be a bit… much. But they mean well. Usually."

They walked back into a heated debate about the Luton Town lineup, Wilo and Bukayo arguing in that mix of English and French they seemed to slip into during training. His eyes found her immediately though, that soft look crossing his face before he made grabby hands for both her and the wine.

"Come, mon coeur," he said, pulling her down next to him on the couch. She ended up practically in his lap, his arm curling possessively around her waist while Tolami resumed her position with Bukayo.

"You good?" Wilo murmured against her hair, somehow making those two words sound filthy in his accent.

"Behave," she whispered back, very aware of how his fingers were playing with the hem of her jumpsuit.

"Never."

Gabriel emerged from somewhere with plates of food that actually looked edible, his wife trailing behind him with more wine. Ben White was telling some story about training that had everyone laughing, but Yas was distracted by the way Wilo's thumb was drawing circles on her hip.

"You're not subtle," she muttered as everyone else focused on serving food.

"Don't want to be," he replied, pressing a kiss below her ear that definitely wasn't dinner-appropriate. "Want everyone to know–"

"If you two are done being horny in my living room," Gabriel called out, "food's getting cold."

Yas felt her face heat as everyone laughed, but Wilo just grinned, completely unashamed. "Can you blame me? Look at her."

"Oh my god," she groaned, hiding her face in his shoulder while Bukayo made gagging noises.

"Young love," Milly sighed dramatically. "Remember when we were that bad?"

"We still are," Ben winked, and everyone groaned.

Dinner with footballers was apparently a loud affair. Gabriel's food was surprisingly good - some Brazilian dish he'd learned from his mom - and the conversation flowed easily between match tactics and relationship gossip. Yas found herself relaxing despite Wilo's wandering hands.

"Yo Yas," Gabriel grinned over his wine glass, "did Wilo tell you how hard he was stalking your Instagram after you accepted his follow request?"

Wilo stopped mid-bite, shooting his friend a betrayed look.

"We caught him during training," Saka added. "Looking at videos of you bending people at the clinic."

"I was... researching," Wilo defended, accent thicker with embarrassment.

"Researching for what?" Tolami teased.

"For... football reasons," he muttered.

Yas raised an eyebrow at him. "Football reasons?"

"Your form is very... professional," he tried, but his hand was creeping up her thigh under the table.

"You're such a stalker," she said, but she was fighting a smile.

"Only for you, mon coeur."

"If you two start making out at my dinner table," Gabriel warned, "I'm spraying you with water like cats."

"Speaking of clinic videos," Tolami smirked, "there's a new one of you circulating."

Yas froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. "What?"

"Some patient recorded you doing his knee assessment," Bukayo explained, scrolling through his phone. "Got like fifty thousand views already."

"That's literally against HIPAA," Yas groaned, but Wilo was already leaning over to look at Bukayo's screen.

"You look cute in this one," he said, then pouted. "But why you never touch my knee like that?"

"Because you're not actually injured."

"Could get injured. Just for you."

"William Saliba, if you deliberately hurt yourself–"

"There they go again," Gabriel sighed dramatically to his wife. "This is why I seated them at the end of the table."

"It's sweet," Milly argued. "Remember when you used to get all possessive like that?"

"I still am," Ben protested. "Just last week–"

"No sex stories at dinner!" Gabriel threw a napkin at him. "We have rules!"

"Rich coming from Mr. 'Let Me Show Everyone My New Hickey' last season," Bukayo called out.

"That was different–"

"How many strikes is that for the swear jar?" Tolami asked innocently. "Because I'm pretty sure talking about hickeys counts."

"There's a swear jar?" Yas whispered to Wilo.

"Oui. Gabriel's wife’s idea. I owe…" he paused, counting in French under his breath. "Maybe two hundred pounds?"

"How–"

"You make me curse a lot, mon coeur."

By the time they said their goodbyes, Yas had three new numbers in her phone and an invite to the WAG group chat. Tolami hugged her tight, whispering something about shopping for the next match that made Wilo's wallet probably cry in advance.

"That wasn't so bad," she admitted as they walked to his car, his hand somehow finding its way back to her ass.

"Non? Ready for more then?" His voice had that dangerous edge to it. "Starting with getting you out of this jumpsuit..."

"Will, I told you - no more period sex."

The look he gave her screamed 'challenge accepted' more than any words could, and she knew she was in trouble.

*******************************************************

Saturday felt surreal. Yas stood in front of her mirror, heart racing as she adjusted the Arsenal jersey with SALIBA stretched across her shoulders. The black jeans hugged her curves perfectly, and the heeled boots added enough height that maybe she wouldn't feel completely tiny next to the other WAGs. But her hands wouldn't stop shaking as she touched up her edges, making sure they laid just right.

Being at the Luton Town match meant no more hiding. No more pretending she was just another PT student. Everyone would know exactly who she was - William Saliba's girl. The thought made her stomach lurch. Her phone had been blowing up since she posted a mirror selfie that morning - her first public acknowledgment of dating Wilo. The comments were mostly supportive, but she'd already muted her notifications twice.

A knock at her door made her jump. "Ready babe?" Tolami's voice called through. "Car's waiting!"

Just seeing Tolami's familiar face helped settle her nerves. She looked effortlessly gorgeous in her own Saka jersey, designer bag hanging from her arm.

"The first match is always the scariest," Tolami assured her, linking their arms together as they headed toward the car. "Wait till you see how many blogs analyze your outfit tomorrow."

"That's not helping."

"Just wait - you'll be getting free clothes offers by Monday. Though that jersey..." Tolami grinned wickedly. "Wilo's definitely going to lose focus during warm-ups when he sees you in that."

They made their way through the VIP entrance at Emirates Stadium, past security and up to the family section. Phones turned their way, whispers following their path. Yas caught fragments of conversation - "Saliba's girlfriend" and "the one from the Tesco video" - but Tolami kept her moving, chattering about some drama with another WAG's Instagram story.

The family box was intimidatingly posh, all plush seats and champagne service. But as they found their spots, Yas couldn't help but smile at the mix of accents around them - Portuguese, French, English all blending together just like at Gabriel's dinner.

"Think it's too much?" Yas tugged at the jersey hem nervously. "The whole... branded girlfriend thing?"

"Girl, please. Watch - he's going to spot you during warm-up and completely forget about football. Plus," Tolami lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Saka says he's been insufferable all morning, checking his phone to see if you'd posted any hints about coming."

Below them, the players were starting to file out for warm-ups. Yas's heart definitely didn't skip when she spotted number 2 jogging onto the pitch, his tall frame unmistakable even from this distance.

It happened during stretches. Wilo's head turned toward the family section like he could sense her presence, and even from this distance, she could see the moment he spotted her. His whole body froze mid-stretch, those dark eyes locked on her in his jersey.

"Told you," Tolami whispered, nudging her ribs. "Look at his face."

Wilo had completely forgotten about his warm-up routine, earning a shove from Gabriel to keep moving. But his eyes kept finding her between drills, that devastating smile making her cheeks heat even from fifty yards away.

Her phone buzzed:

"You wearing my name."

"Focus on your warm-up."

"Can't. Too busy thinking about taking that jersey off later."

"Saliba!" They could hear Arteta's voice carrying across the pitch. "Less texting, more running!"

But Wilo was still grinning, jogging backward so he could keep looking up at her. He pressed his hand to his heart, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like 'mon coeur' before Gabriel physically turned him around.

"God, you two are disgusting," Tolami laughed. "I love it."

The stadium hummed with energy as Yas tried to focus on breathing. From the family section, everything felt more immediate - each tackle, each sprint, each time Wilo went up for a header. She'd watched plenty of matches on her phone between patients, but this was different. This was real.

Ben White's wife - Milly, she'd learned at dinner - leaned over during a water break. "The first match is the worst. I threw up before mine."

"I almost did," Tolami agreed, squeezing Yas's hand. "But look at our boys now."

Ødegaard broke through in the thirty-fifth minute, a beautiful shot that had the stadium exploding. She spotted Wilo lifting their captain in celebration, his smile brighter than the stadium lights.

During halftime, she checked her phone to find she'd gained another ten thousand follow requests. The camera had caught her a few times, apparently - her in Wilo's jersey, cheering with Tolami. Twitter was already analyzing her outfit, her hair, her friendship with Saka's girlfriend.

"Ignore it," Tolami advised, passing her a water bottle. "Focus on the match. Though that clip of Wilo staring at you during warm-ups is kind of cute."

When Daiki slotted in the second goal after halftime, Yas was ready for it. She screamed with Tolami as the Japanese midfielder was swarmed by his teammates. The rest of the match was a defensive masterclass - Wilo and Gabriel keeping Luton from any real chances. Her PT brain couldn't help but admire his form, the way he used his height to his advantage.

2-0. Her first match as an official WAG, and they'd won. The final whistle had barely blown before her phone started buzzing with notifications.

"He's looking for you," Tolami nudged her, and sure enough, Wilo's eyes were already on their section. That soft smile spread across his face as he tapped his heart.

Milly was saying something about celebration dinner plans, but Yas was distracted by her phone lighting up:

"Dinner to celebrate? Or straight home to take that jersey off?"

"Behave," she typed back. "You have press duties."

"Worth being late to see you in my name."

"Your man's whipped," Tolami laughed, reading over her shoulder. "But seriously, you coming to dinner? Traditional after home wins."

Before Yas could answer, another text:

"Please come? Want to show you off properly. My girl in my jersey x"

*******************************************************

The restaurant in Mayfair screamed old money, all crystal chandeliers and waiters. She felt slightly underdressed in Wilo's jersey, even after tucking it into her jeans, but the team had a regular private room here after home wins, somewhere they could be loud without bothering other diners.

Wilo hadn't stopped touching her since they sat down - hand on her thigh, playing with her curls, finding any excuse to lean into her space. The win had him buzzing with energy, though his eyes kept dropping to his name stretched across her chest.

"To clean sheets!" Gabriel raised his champagne glass, and everyone cheered. The conversation flowed between match analysis and relationship gossip, but Yas noticed Wilo getting more restless with each passing minute.

His hand crept higher on her thigh under the table. "You look so good in my jersey," he murmured in her ear, low enough that only she could hear. "Can't stop thinking about–"

"If you finish that sentence in public, I'm never wearing it again."

Across the table, Bukayo was telling some story about training, but Wilo wasn't even pretending to listen anymore. His fingers traced patterns on her leg that made it hard to focus on her own food.

"You're not even listening," Bukayo laughed, throwing a napkin at him. "Bro's too busy staring at his jersey."

"Can you blame me?" Wilo didn't even look away from Yas, his accent getting thicker the way it did when he was worked up. "Think we'll skip dessert. Need to see how that jersey looks on my floor."

The boys erupted in whistles and catcalls, Gabriel yelling something in Portuguese that made his wife laugh. Even the other WAGs were giggling now, used to these displays of footballer dramatics.

"William," Yas hissed, mortified but also fighting a smile. "I swear to god–"

But before she could finish, he'd scooped her up and thrown her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, one hand firmly on her calf to keep her steady. The champagne was definitely hitting her now, blood rushing to her head as she dangled over his shoulder.

"Put me down!"

"Non." His satisfaction was clear in his voice as the team hooted louder. She could feel his laugh rumbling through his chest where she was pressed against him.

"Go make that baby, Wilo!" Saka called out, earning himself a smack in the arm from Tolami.

"I hate all of you," Yas declared to the upside-down crowd, catching glimpses of amused faces and raised champagne glasses as Wilo headed for the exit.

"No you don't," he said cheerfully, not even slightly winded from carrying her. "You're wearing my name."

The last thing she heard before they left the private room was Tolami's voice: "Twenty pounds says she's pregnant by Christmas."

Wilo finally put her down when they reached his car, but kept her pressed against the passenger door. The London night was cool against her flushed skin, his jersey riding up where his hands gripped her waist.

"You're impossible," she breathed, but tilted her face up to his anyway.

"Says girl wearing my name." His accent was thick, wrapping around the words like honey. "Know what that does to me?"

"The whole restaurant knows what it does to you."

His laugh was warm against her neck. "Don't care. Want everyone to see."

The drive back to his place was torture - his free hand on her thigh, her body still buzzing from champagne and victory celebrations. London streets blurred past as he took corners maybe a little faster than usual.

"Careful," she warned when he nearly missed a light. "I need you in one piece for your next match."

"Then stop looking like that in my jersey."

"It's just a shirt, Will."

The look he gave her clearly said it wasn't just a shirt, but he managed to get them back to his building without breaking any traffic laws. Barely.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he had her backed against the mirrored wall, hands reverent on the number 2 stretched across her chest.

"My girl," he murmured. "In my name."

"Your girl needs to breathe," she laughed, pushing him back slightly. "And a shower."

His grin was devastating. "Can I shower with you?"

"Impossible man."

Wilo just smirked, because they both knew the answer. The elevator dinged when they got to his floor and when he unlocked his front door, he didn’t even let her step away, hands already slipping beneath the hem of his jersey to help her out of it. She let him, raising her arms so he could strip it off, leaving her in just her underwear. His fingers traced over her skin, his gaze darkening as he drank her in.

"You gonna stare all night or actually help me get clean?" she teased, though the way her breath hitched betrayed her.

"Can’t help it," he murmured, tossing the shirt aside before unclasping her bra. "You’re too damn pretty."

Her stomach fluttered at the way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was just a fact. His hands were warm as they skimmed her sides, down to her hips to pull off her underwear before he guided her toward the bathroom.

"Still on your period?" he asked, voice casual as he reached for the light.

She hummed. "Barely. It’s light."

"Great." His eyes flashed as he grinned.

The way he said it sent a rush of heat through her, but before she could respond, he was already reaching for his own clothes, stripping off his hoodie and t-shirt in one smooth motion. She had to take a second to just… appreciate.

Because, damn.

She would never get used to how fine her man was. The way his muscles flexed as he unbuckled his jeans, the sharp cut of his abs — it was almost unfair.

He caught her staring as he stepped out of his boxers, smirking as he grabbed a shower cap and pulled it over her head with practiced ease. "Like what you see?"

"Obviously," she shot back, rolling her eyes but smiling.

The shower steamed up around them as he turned on the water, the low hum of the spray filling the space. He kissed her then, slow and deep, his hands coming up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. A quiet moan slipped past her lips as he squeezed, kneading them like he had all the time in the world.

"Come on," he murmured, guiding her under the stream. "Let me take care of you."

The warm spray cascaded down their bodies, steam curling around them as Wilo ran his hands down her back, over the curve of her hips, before gripping her ass. He pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her neck, his breath hot against her damp skin.

"Been thinking about this all night," he murmured, voice thick with want.

She shivered as his hands spread her apart, his fingers trailing between her thighs, teasing her entrance. Even with the shower running, she could hear how wet she was for him.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, his other hand coming up to grip her waist.

"Yes," she breathed, pushing back against him, her body aching for more.

A low groan rumbled from his chest. "Yeah? Then bend over for me."

She let him guide her, turning her around, her hands pressing against the cool tile wall as he nudged her legs wider. The marble bench was just the right height, and when he ran his fingers through her folds, she gasped, arching into his touch.

"Still so tight," he muttered, positioning himself at her entrance. He dragged the tip along her slit, teasing, making her squirm. "Always so good for me."

"Will," she whined, trying to push back onto him.

"Patience, love." His voice was deep, teasing, but when he finally pushed in, it was anything but gentle.

The stretch of him burned in the best way, and her mouth fell open on a moan as he bottomed out, filling her completely. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, holding her in place as he pulled back just enough before slamming back in.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel perfect, always so perfect for me."

Her nails scraped against the wall as he set a relentless pace, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through her spine. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the shower, mixing with their heavy breathing, her soft cries, his low grunts.

"Regarde-toi, bébé," he rasped, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust. "Tu aimes ça, hein? You love it when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes — fuck, yes," she gasped, her thighs shaking, struggling to keep herself up as the pleasure built inside her.

Wilo let out a low, dark chuckle, his large hands gripping her hips before delivering a sharp slap to her ass. The sting sent a shudder through her, making her clench around him.

"Merde," he groaned, squeezing the flesh before giving it another slap. "Throw that ass back on me, bébé. Show me how bad you want it."

She obeyed, pressing back against him, meeting each of his thrusts with desperation. His grip tightened, one hand slipping up to wrap lightly around her throat, tilting her head back so he could press a messy kiss to her cheek.

"Look at you," he murmured, his breath ragged. "Taking all of me, like a good girl, like this pussy was made for me."

Her walls fluttered around him, and he hissed through his teeth. "Fuck — you gonna cum for me?"

She nodded frantically, moaning as he reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing tight circles that sent her spiraling.

"Come on," he urged, his thrusts turning erratic. "Cum for me."

With a sharp cry, she shattered, her body clenching around him, dragging him into his own release. He groaned, spilling into her, his forehead pressing against the back of her shoulder as he shuddered through the aftershocks.

For a moment, the only sound was the steady stream of the shower and their ragged breathing.

Then, Wilo chuckled, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck. "Tolami might be onto something, you know."

She let out a breathless laugh, still coming down from the high as Wilo slipped out of her, his hands smoothing over her hips before giving her ass a playful squeeze.

"And what exactly is she onto?" she asked, turning her head slightly to look at him.

His grin was all mischief as he spun her around, pulling her into his arms. "That you might be carrying my baby by Christmas."

She rolled her eyes, resting her palms against his chest. "You really think you're that good?"

He smirked, pressing a kiss to her temple before trailing his lips down to her neck. "Babe, I just fucked you so good you didn't even care if I had a condom on."

Her breath caught. He was right.

"We need—"

"Relax," he murmured, nipping at her jawline. "I'll get you Plan B later tonight."

That didn’t stop the tiny flare of panic from creeping up her spine, but when his lips found hers, soft and slow this time, it melted away just as quickly.

"I wouldn’t mind it though," he admitted against her lips. "Getting you pregnant."

Her heart stuttered at the confession, at the way he was looking at her — like he could already see it.

"Wilo, we cannot—" she started, but he just kissed her again, deep and lingering, as if sealing the thought between them.

"We can talk about it later," he said, reaching for the body wash. "For now, let me clean my girl up."

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully but let him lather her up anyway, his hands gentle as they roamed her body. His fingers traced over the bite marks on her shoulder, the bruises forming on her hips from his grip.

"Did I go too hard?" he asked, voice softer now, more careful.

She shook her head. "No. It was perfect."

His smirk returned, a little smug, a lot satisfied. "Damn right it was."

She swatted at his chest, and he just laughed, wrapping her up in his arms again as the hot water cascaded over them.

..................tbd

[holyguardian]

There was little need to guess where Aerith was. As always, she found a reason to talk, and talk, and to talk and talk. Each room they breezed through, she managed to have something to say, alerting the guards of her returned presence long before their eyes sighted her.

She confidently led Somnus through to 'their' door, even swept out one of her arms in a flourish to invite him further inside. Her heel swept the door then and it closed with a soft click, a moment of silence spreading out, one that she finally didn't rush in to fill.

"Yeah, this is ours." Aerith echoed, allowing time for that sentiment to sink in. She glanced around. There were so many memories in this room... but it looked as though it had been wiped completely clean in the time that she had been gone. Now it stood as a blank slate. Ready to be filled with a new chapter.

His smirk only threw her for a moment. Her curiousity swiftly changing to amusement. "Oh?" she asked, as if that had been a challenge against her. Hands folded behind her back, Aerith approached the door that connected on their left, even pausing at it to politely knock.

"Hello? Gilgamesh? I hope you don't mind the imposition, Somnus wanted to inspect your temporary living quarters." It was just teasing, underlined by the look she threw over her shoulder to the Prince. "He isn't saying anything. I think he's amazed by the artwork."

Finally putting an end to the little charade, and to the build-up of what he must think her room must look like, Aerith grabbed for the door and gave it a simple push open. She strolled inside the bedroom so easily. It was, after all, her most familiar place in the world.

There was something set down upon every single surface. And, to her gentle amusement, there she found her travelling trunk. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight. "Ohh. Guess dad told them where they could shove this." she lightly commented, stepping around the trunk with a hum.

"Of course, I am a generous partner, if you would feel more comfortable in... your personal hell." Aerith offered with a laugh, unable to keep a straight face as she motioned around for him. "You're welcome to this bed should you want it."

He was lucky she was so patient with him. Other nobles surely wouldn’t have shown this kind of sweetness leading him around by his hand. And Somnus was grateful for it. This was all so different from home. The only thing that could make this feel even stranger was if the farmlanders would talk in a different tongue. And yet the Lucian soldiers only had praise and awe for their accommodations. They were used to more rustic barracks back in Lucis. This here seemed like a dream to them. Oh, they would easily pledge themselves to the farmlands. Any grudge or hesitation for having been picked to leave their homelands quickly dissipated here.

The Queen was as graceful as ever – and yet she seemed to mellow in a more familiar tone with him. That embrace was still a surprise and yet this time Somnus was able to return it in a half-hearted attempt. Not to insult her, but because it still felt so unbecoming to simply hug the Queen of an entire nation.

Though Aerith had little mercy with her poor mother.

Somnus felt like a child being led around. This was her home. Plain and simple. She knew everything in this castle. Everyone. This was her golden cage – though seemingly she had spent a lot of happy years here, too. Loved and protected. The guards for sure were smiling at her a lot, whenever she dragged him through a new room.

The door they finally reached was thrown open and… it was a sunlit room with an amazing view right ahead. Branches of trees almost reaching inside through the windows as if they were curious giants. It was… almost too perfect. As if the Queen had afforded him the most beautiful room here. For a moment Somnus wanted to question that, though Aerith seemed pretty sure, pulling him inside. To Somnus’ surprise his meagre chest and bag had already been brought here and it made his heart leap a little. He knew his things were there, something that he could hold onto when all else changed.

The clothes surely still would smell like Lucis.

“This is all… ours?”, he wanted to make sure, finally letting go of Aerith’s hand and looking around. How strange this was. This would be his new home. Somnus stood there, trying to imagine his life here. Years upon years - hopefully. Would he one day sit by the window playing chess when his hair was grey and his eyes turned bad?

There were doors leading away from the room, but Somnus only looked at them curiously. Was one a bath? He sorely wished to bathe himself clean, but he did not want to… overstep? Could he overstep if this was supposed to be his new home?

Maybe to try and overplay his own uncertainty, he gave Aerith a little smirk.

“Well, I am disappointed… you promised me your chaotic cluttered pink bedroom. I see none of that.”

[lilylushes]

Luigi x Pregnant Reader Headcanons

-Your sex life with Luigi had always been active, but once you two decided to see what happens in terms of getting pregnant, he got baby fever BAD and it turned into a whole baby making season for him. 

-You had sex almost every day before, but now it was constantly - on the countertop, in the shower, in the pool/ocean, etc. Even when you were tired, he’d happily make love to you with gentle strokes, humming how much he loved you and wanted a baby. He’d also lay on the praise even more during baby making season. “Mmm, going to give you a baby, beautiful.” “So good for me, taking all my cum, my good girl.” 

-He was SO excited when you both found out. The two of you both suspected you might be pregnant, so you took a test and decided to look at it at the same time. When you flipped it over and the two lines were clear as day, he was elated. He hugged you so tightly and even though he’s not an overly emotional guy, he cried tears of joy, and gave you so much praise. “You’re going to be the best mother.” “I love you.” “I can’t wait to do this with you.” Oh, and he’s thinking about how hot you’ll look pregnant.

-He immediately ordered a shit ton of books about pregnancy, fatherhood, babies, and everything.

-He thinks about different names all the time, too. He’d ask, “baby, what do you think of x as a name?”

-He goes to literally every appointment, ultrasound, and signs you up for a birthing class.

-NEEDS to find out the gender because he can’t not know. You’d do a little private thing, just the two of you. I picture one of those ones on the beach with a little cake and the wine glasses. No matter what you’d have, his reaction would be so precious. More hugs and tears, probably.

-He’s also kinda panicking because now he’s gonna be a literal father in charge of keeping another human alive. He is reading the books that he ordered religiously. He worries deep down that he’s not cut out to be a father.

-He proudly assembles all of the nursery furniture and makes sure it’s all safe.

-He takes up crocheting/knitting so that he can make socks, hats, a blanket, etc. for the baby. He goes kinda crazy with it, lol.

-He just wants to be a part of it all in any way that he can. He reads up on what you’re experiencing, is always asking how you’re feeling, wants to make sure you take all the vitamins you need, and takes part in your birthing class to ensure that he’ll be a supportive partner.

-He talks to your baby at night. “You have the best mom. She’s so pretty and so smart, you’ll see. You’re giving her kind of a hard time, though. It’s hard for her to sleep. Just keep still in there for a few hours, hm?”

-He is always encouraging you to try things out to make everything more comfortable for you, especially at the end.

-He talks about what the baby will look like and be like. You both agree on your eyes with his smile. You two take the opportunity to look at your own baby pictures. He’s a bit embarrassed at his, but he can’t get over how cute you were.

-Pregnancy sex, especially towards the end, is wild and constant. “I know you’re uncomfortable, baby. I read how we can induce labour, wanna give it a try?”

-He totally panics when you go into labour. He did pack your hospital bags long ago, but he gets all blushing and flustered.

-While you’re in labour, he gives you distance when you need it and is nearby when you need it.

-When your baby is born, he’d be crying so hard. Between your baby being here and how proud he is of you for going through labour, he’d be extremely emotional.

-He can’t believe how tiny the baby is, being totally in awe of their little hands and feet. He’s just in disbelief that you two made this sweet little baby.

-Afterwards, when you’re holding the baby, he says, “thank you for giving me him/her.”

-Even though he’s running on no sleep, he’d watch you sleep afterwards and come over to kiss your cheeks and forehead.

-He’s so proud to bring your visitors in. He’d by hyping you up to them, like, “she did such a good job, I’m so proud of her. She was so strong the whole time.”

-When you’re leaving the hospital, he’s beaming with pride to be able to look beside him and see you and your baby. 

-When you’re in the car, he’d look in the mirror at you and your baby in the backseat, and say, “There’s nobody else I’d rather do this with, y/n. love you, baby.”

[ribbonsncherries]

The Contract

Warnings: Lots of smut, P in V, Oral (both m and f receiving), BDSM!, Sexual Assault, Stalking, Angst, Alcohol mentions, Dominant and submissive plot, Virgin user, mentions of drugs.

Chapter 2

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x inexperienced! User

Summary: When her roommate and work partner gets sick, she is in charge of interviewing famous billionaire businessman Dean Winchester for his new bar's grand opening which leads to a passionate and tumultuous affair where she discovers his dark sexual desires, marked by control and dominance. The one catch? He doesn't do romance.

Based on the trilogy Fifty Shades of Grey.

(4004 words)

Divider credits: @dollywons, @anitalenia, @selysie

“I’m home!” (y/n) shouted as she threw her purse and work bag on the couch, she took off her coat and hung it up, “Jessica come out here I got some good news!” (y/n) heard the ting on her cellphone, she looked at it for a good minute before she began digging through her small shoulder bag to see Dean had texted her. 

‘Let me know any information regarding tomorrow, Goodnight Ms. (l/n).’ 

“God what is it…” Jessica mumbled wiping slobber from the side of her mouth, she looked like she just woke up from a long nap. “Make love to me or something 'cause you’re gonna love me even more.” (y/n) smiled. “So Dean came by my office and-” Jessica’s eyes widened immediately before running up to (y/n) “WHAT! You’re lying! What did he say?!” 

(y/n) laughed “Well he heard about your problem with the photos so, he’s asking you if you want an original photo for Runway tomorrow?” Jessica stayed quiet, “(y/n), If you’re fucking with me you’re out of this house.” She said pointing at her. (y/n) lifted her phone to show Dean’s number. “Just tell me and I’ll let him know right now, he does want to know by today…” she smiled. Jessica jumped for joy while she squealed. “Oh my god! Ok, tomorrow at around 7 AM,” she said immediately running to her room with her computer to prepare for the next day, although it was last minute Runway was more than happy to ask their photographers to take pictures. This included one of their photographers ‘James’. (y/n) got ready for bed and cleaned up her things from the sofa. She collapsed on her bed and covered herself with her sheets. Before she closed her eyes to sleep she texted him. 

‘Hello, Mr.Winchester. Sorry for the late message. Thank you for doing this for Runway, I was I was just wondering if tomorrow at 7 a.m. would be a good time for you to come to our studio.’ 

‘Yes, of course, that’s a good time for me. After the shoot do you want to grab some breakfast?’’

(y/n) didn’t know what to say or think, all she knew was that she was stunned, she took one more glance at the text and saw it was real. He did ask her out for breakfast. Was he interested in her? Or was this a business casual thing? She began typing away at her phone. 

‘Sure, I would love to thank you :)’

‘Good night Ms. (l/n), see you tomorrow.’ 

(y/n) felt like she released a huge breath. She couldn’t believe this at all, the billionaire man every girl wanted, asked her for breakfast. “Holy shit” she sighed out before covering her face with a pillow in disbelief. 

The next day (y/n)’s alarm rang out at 5:00. She was confused, she set her alarm for 6:00. “Wake up! Rise and Shine!” Jessicas shouted out from her door. She came into her room and opened the curtains to the morning dawn. “You’re insane.” (y/n) mumbled as she turned around. Jessica went to her side grabbed (y/n)’s sleeping mask and snapped it back on her face. (y/n) immediately got up and dragged Jessica down to her bed “What the fuck?!” she shouted while Jessica just laughed “That never gets old! C’mon sleepy head get ready, you’re gonna see your rich boyfriend.” she teased. (y/n) threw her stuffed elephant at her. “Shut up,” she mumbled as she removed her sleep mask and ran her hand through her face and hair. Jessica warmed up some coffee for her and (y/n) in their assigned mugs. As (y/n) stood in the shower, she could only think of his rough voice and his biceps that were underneath his flannel when he came into her office. As she washed her hair the warm water made her suddenly flinch as she thought about his rough hands around her waist, and thighs, Kissing her softly. Before she was about to release a moan “(y/n)! It’s 6:00! We have to get to the office by 6:30!” 

“Shit!” she shouted. She quickly washed the soap out of her hair and turned off the shower. She dressed in casual flared jeans, Dr. Martens, and a nice comfortable shirt just enough to barely show cleavage. Jessica made two sandwiches and handed (y/n) her bottle of coffee. They quickly scrambled to their car and made their way to the Runway Headquarters. (y/n) and Jessica looked out the window to see a slick 67’ Chevy Impala parked in the private garage. “Woahh,” they said in unison. As they began getting out of the car (y/n) took a good look at the sleek black car. “C’mon (n/n) James just messaged me he’s here already. 

James began taking pictures of Dean. He was in his usual Black Tux with a gray tie, his hair combed out and messy, just the way he liked it. He was standing normally and looking into the camera while James was taking the pictures but he couldn’t help but look over James to look at (y/n) who was only a mere feet away from him with Jessica. “Thanks again for doing this Mr. Winchester,” Jessica exclaimed blowing her nose in the distance. Dean looked at her for a moment and nodded his head “I’m happy to help.” he said. James looked through his camera and realized Dean had a straight face the entire time. He looked up at him and saw he was looking at (y/n) “Uh..how about we try one with a smile this time?” James said with his smile to try to encourage him. As the flashes continued Dean’s facial muscles didn’t move an inch ‘’right…guess not.” mumbled James. 

Jessica leaned into (y/n)’s ear “You realize that his eyes are literally glued to you. He hasn’t stopped looking at you.” she whispered. (y/n)’s lips slightly curved to a smile “He asked me to go for breakfast after the shoot.” She whispered back and cleared her throat. Jessica smiled and teased her with a slight nudge and giggling. 

When they were finished Jessica went home on her own since (y/n) was getting driven by Dean’s assistant Benny. James went up to (y/n), “I kinda need to thank you too, This is gonna look great on my portfolio.” (y/n) smiled at him politely, “Of course, anytime for me and Jessica’s favorite photographer.” James laughed awkwardly, “Are you doing anything later?” 

While James was talking with (y/n) he felt his jaw clench at the scene so he went up to them and stood next to her “(y/n), we should start heading out.” (y/n) looked up to him confused “Now?” she asked. Dean nodded his head before he saw her saying goodbye and giving him a friendly hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow James.” She smiled. Dean gave him one last look before catching up with her.

“Is he your boyfriend?” he asked her. (y/n) looked up at him “Who?” 

“The photographer.” 

(y/n) laughed like it was a joke “James? He is a very good friend and long-time co-worker of Jessica and me.” She put it simply as she continued walking with him. “I saw the way he was looking at you,” he said in a rough voice as he began unbuttoning the first two buttons of his dress shirt. “He’s more like a family friend you’d invite to a barbeque.” she scoffed. When they walked to the parking garage (y/n) stopped dead in her tracks as Dean walked towards the Impala. “That’s yours?” she asked shocked as she caught up with him. “Yes, family car that’s been with me and brother for years.” He said. (y/n) smiled at the sight “Wow, it’s a beautiful car.” she sighed. “Thank you.” She was confused when she saw him open the door for her and looked around the garage. “I thought Benny was going to drive us?” She asked. “No, he’s on his day off, I’ll drive you.” (y/n) got in the car and Dean closed the door, walked to the other side, and got in the driver's seat. He whipped out his keys and turned on the car making the engine purr. (y/n) smiled to herself when she ran her hands along the interior of her door. Dean smiled small when she wasn’t looking and began taking the car out of the parking garage. 

“Here you go, is there anything I can get you both?” asked the waitress. Dean looked at (y/n) for a quick second before he shook his head, “No thank you, we’ll call if anything.” he said. The waitress nodded as she walked away. (y/n) smiled before looking up from her food to his eyes, “Thanks for this by the way.” she said as Dean started eating his pie. He noticed that she was trying to pretend everything was good and cool but he could see the small hints of red in her cheeks and ears, and her jaw and shoulders were tensed. “You seem nervous?” he said as he took a bite of his pie. (y/n) laughed a bit. “Well this is my first time with a businessman and you seem intimidating.” Dean scoffed as his lips curved to a small smile. “Not to mention very high struck,” she added on. Dean looked at her and observed more of her body, “I'm used to controlling things and getting my own way.”

“That must get pretty boring easily.” she smiled. Dean scooted her plate closer to her “Eat.” he ordered. (y/n) dug her knife into the small batch of pancakes and drank some orange juice that was beside her. “Tell me more about you. What’s your family like?” he asked. (y/n) stopped chewing for a minute and continued once his words were processed and she swallowed. “My family? Well, My dad is out of the picture in my mom’s life since she doesn’t like him very much. My mom and stepdad live in California, I have a little sister named Flora who lives with them over there, I try to see them at least twice every year. I’m rambling aren’t I?” she laughed softly. “I’m sorry.” she apologized. Dean smiled a bit “It’s alright, I did ask about the topic, didn’t I? Tell me more about your father.” He asked. (y/n) smiled, “he liked music, especially romantic ones, he was always that sappy guy when talking about my mom when they were together.” she smiled remembering. Dean looked at tightening his grip around his cup of coffee. “Are you one?” he asked her. She looked up at him confused “Am I what?” she smiled. 

“A romantic?” 

“Well, I’m a writer for a gossip magazine, sometimes I have to be.” she smiled. His smirk went down a bit. “Thanks again Jessica is so beyond ecstatic and-” 

“I have to go, I can’t do this..” he mumbled, he got up from his chair immediately “What?” she questioned softly. “I’ll walk you out (y/n).” Did she do something wrong? Did she say something that somehow upset him? These thoughts in her head were everywhere, As Dean paid for the bill (y/n) had enough of waiting for him so she just walked out. “(y/n). (y/n), I’m sorry but-” 

“Do you have a girlfriend or something?” she asked. Dean looked at her “I don’t do the whole romance hand-holding girlfriend stuff.” (y/n) rolled her eyes in annoyance as she walked to cross the street. “What the fuck does that eve-” 

“Watch out!” he shouted, a speeding car had almost hit her, he grabbed onto her arm and pulled her into his chest on the sidewalk. She looked into his eyes as his piercing green eyes looked into hers. His rough hand grazed upon her cheek as she rested her face on his hand. “(y/n) You need to listen, I’m not the man for you, you need to stay as far back from me as possible,” he said with a low rumble. 

“Dean wha-” 

“I have to let you go…” he said. He took his hand off her face as she backed away from him. She looked at him one more time with an angry expression. “I don’t understand, but I’m tired of this, whatever this is anyway. Bye, Mr. Winchester,” she said as she crossed the street. Dean’s eyes followed her every move as she crossed the street until she disappeared when she reached the end of the block. 

As another few weeks passed by, The article about Dean in the magazine made a hit making this month's issue one of the biggest ones yet in Runway. (y/n) was working on a few finishing touches on a new article she was working on with Jessica, a small beep rang from her desk phone. “Ms. (l/n).” Jenna rang on her desk phone. (y/n) clicked the button to answer. “Hey, Jenna. What’s up?” “Castiel wants to see you quickly,” she said. (y/n) was a bit in a mood but this was her boss she couldn’t say no. “Send him in, thanks Jenna.” Castiel came in with a big smile on his face. “There is one of my two heroes! Since our department finished the article and the photographers did that photo shoot we are partying tonight at the new Winchester bar and you are one of the VIP guests for making this happen.” (y/n) smiled and shook her head. “I can’t, I don’t do parties or bars; it’s crowded everywhere, and there is always some couple having sex that occupies the bathrooms,” she said putting her pen to her bottom lip from habit. “But this is Winchester Elixers, this is not one of those cheap bars you and Jessica go to. It’ll be fun.”

Castiel could see her facial expressions on not wanting to go, “Listen it’s fine if you don’t want to but, it’ll be fun. Hope to see you there,” he said with a warm smile. He said as he began walking out of her office. The more (y/n) thought about it the more she wanted to go, after this whole dean situation she needed to be let off some steam, even if it was at his bar he opened up. “Cas!” she said walking to her doorframe. Castiel turned around “I’ll go.” (y/n) smiled. Castiel looked beyond happy, “You sure?” he asked. (y/n) nodded her head as Castiel smiled even bigger with his eyes. “I’ll see you and Jessica tonight,” he replied as he walked down the hallway. 

“Ok, you’re putting on too much this is a lot even for me.” (y/n) said, Jessica was putting on a tremendous amount of blush since apparently the amount (y/n) put on was too little. “God Jessica ’m not a tomato.” (y/n) laughed. “Well, I'm sorry it was bothering me it looked like you had just two circles on your cheeks.” She joked, (y/n) grabbed a makeup wipe took off the excessive amount of blush, and left little on her cheeks. They both looked at each other in the mirror as they released a deep breath “We deserve this” Jessica sighed, and their doorbell rang, “Huh, he’s early.” Jessica mumbled assuming it was James who wasn’t going to drink that night and was their driver. While she went to get the door, (y/n) began putting on her lip liner and lipstick to complete her nice basic look. “Package!” Jessica shouted. (y/n) immediately ran to the living room assuming it was Jessica’s. Whenever either roommate got a package they opened it together for fun. “I hope it’s those shirts I ordered a while ago,” Jessica said as she looked at the address. “To (y/n) (l/n).” Jessica took out the note paired with the giant box as she gave it to (y/n). “Echoes of emotion, and the visions of a fool, echoes of forbidden ground’-”

“And it’s too good to be true..’, that’s Fleetwood Mac, Love is Dangerous.” (y/n) said while confused, she opened up the box to reveal an unopened copy of the first print of Rumors that was originally made in 1977. (y/n)’s hands started shaking when she saw a purple and black shawl, this could only belong to the Stevie Nicks. She immediately put it down along with the album carefully. “This has to be from Dean, this is too much, he’s fucking insane I'm sending this back,” she said. Jessica pulled her aside as (y/n) put down the box, “No, (y/n) you’re not sending them back, if he wants to chase you he can go right ahead, don’t feel obligated to send shit back just cause he bought them, if I were you I would fucking keep it, hell if he pulled some shit as he did to you weeks ago I’ll resell it.” Jessica spoke with confidence to her friend. (y/n) nodded as she put the box in a safe space. “Let’s just forget him and go to this bar and have fun 'cause we worked our asses off, we deserve this.” (y/n) nodded once more and smiled. A honk beeped out the window. “That must be James, we should probably get going.” 

The bar was crowded, of course, people were dancing and grinding on each other. People were drunk and just having fun. Castiel welcomed (y/n) and Jessica and offered them drinks. It had a current party atmosphere and was fresh, brand new, and open to the public. (y/n) and a group of her co-workers gathered around a table surrounding shot glasses with Tequila in them. (y/n) had already had a few to deal with the anger she still had for Dean, especially since she was at his bar. “Shots! Shots! Shots!” They shouted. “Drink all of it ya’ll!” everyone in that group drank the tequila shot but still a little lingered in (y/n)’s throat which caused her to cough and laugh drunkenly. (y/n) laughed and laid her head on James’s shoulder “I gotta pee!” she shouted hoping her message would follow through the loud music. She stumbled through the crowd to the long line leading to the bathrooms. She took out her phone to Dean’s contact and as she was about to delete it she smirked to herself and was going to give him a piece of her own mind. 

Dean however was doing paperwork in his office and heard his phone ring. He saw who it was and he was confused. “You ok?” Sam asked who was sitting across from him. Dean looked up to his younger brother and got up from his chair. “I’ll be right back give a second.” He said before walking away. “(y/n)?” he answered. 

“Yup, It’s me (y/n), sooo I have that album thanks and a shawl that works perfectly fine ‘m sendin' them back, actually no ima resell em. But thanks a lot,” she slurred. Dean furrowed his eyebrows confused “You’re welcome, sweetheart where are you?” She laughed through the phone, “Don’t call me sweetheart, ‘n its none of your business to know where I am~ I’ll tell ya anyways ‘m in line cause I have to use the little lady room~” she said. Dean could hear the music and laughter through his phone, “(y/n) have you been drinking?” he asked sternly. She giggled through the phone once again, “Yeah~ so what? You little Mr. Fancy Pants.” she laughed. (y/n) looked over towards the girl next to her in line, “What a bossy guy huh?” she asked. Dean cleared his throat “(y/n) Listen to me, I need you to go home right now.” 

“Oh my god~ you’re so so bossy in the first half it’s “(y/n), do you wanna go to breakfast?” She giggled as she made her voice low and gruff like his, “(y/n), do you wanna got for breakfast? No, sweetheart stay away, I don’t need you, sweetheart. Get away~” she laughed. “That’s enough, tell me where you are right now,” he said sternly. 

“‘M not tellin’ you shit, but I’ll tell you I'm far away from you like you wanted~” She slurred out, “(y/n) where are-” she hung up her phone and sighed, she looked to the girl next to her once more and smiled, “I showed him huh?” she asked. His phone rang out again to see Dean calling her. She answered the phone, “Listen I had enou-” 

“I already know where you are I’m on my way.” (y/n)’s giggling stopped “wha- Hello?” He hung up this time on her. She looked at her phone and rolled her eyes. And looked to the girl once more.”People need to stop interrupting me I swear.” When she was done using the bathroom she stepped outside to get some air from the crowded bar. “(y/n).” someone called out. She turned around and saw James holding her sweater. “Here it’s freezing outside.” James helped her put on her sweater. “Thanks,” she said. “You ok?” he asked her. She nodded her head. 

“Yeah just never really been this drunk in a while ‘n it’s cold so~” James grabbed her arms and clung her to him. “Here let me keep you warm.” He said. (y/n) tried pulling away but she was too drunk to “No it’s cool I'm good James thanks.” James looked at her flushed face and pulled her closer, “I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this again, (y/n) I like you.” She was confused and dizzy at the same time “Wha? No you don’t” she said. “Yes, I do, very much.” (y/n) scrunched up her face “No~” James grabbed her arms a little tighter to prevent her from getting away “What are you doing, stop, no, no, no.” James began kissing her while she hit him still drunk. A sudden punch to the face hit James, “She said no!” (y/n) knew that voice anywhere. “Dean?” before she said anything else she puked in the parking lot and crouched. Dean immediately came up next to her and grabbed her hair away from her face as she puked. “Don’t look at me,” she said embarrassed. Dean looked away to James who was backing away inside. When she finished she leaned on his shoulder while he gave her his handkerchief that had his name embroidered to wipe her mouth on. “C’mon sweetheart let's get you home,” he said. She looked up at him and wiped her stray hair away from her face, “But I’m with Jessica~” she said. “Sam will tell her.” He said. 

“Who’s Sam?” she asked. “My brother, he’s inside telling her right now.” Dean took her hand and led her inside to get her things. When they got inside they both saw Sam and Jessica dancing together to the music playing Dean went up to Sam and whispered something, he then bent down a little to Jessica’s height to tell her what was going on, she then whispered something back to Dean before he came back to her, “What did she say?” she asked. Dean smirked “She warned me if I tried something stupid she knows a place to summon a demon.” (y/n) laughed as she started moving back and forth. “The world is spinning…why are you spinning?” she mumbled as she fell back and Dean wrapped his arms around her preventing her fall. He held her head to prevent it from falling back, he carried her bridal style, placed her in his impala carefully, and buckled her up. They made their way to the hotel he had still stayed in for the past few weeks. Waiting for her. 

Taglist: @applelovesposts @ladykitana90

A/N: yurrr, the tag list is open! So am I writing the next one instead of doing my assignments? yeah, I'm doing that. First of all, the love for the first chapter omg, I freaking love you guys. and to the new followers, welcome! I'm happy you're here and already interested in my book I'm eternally grateful for you all! Currently, the tag list for this book is open! So message me or go to my inbox to let me know if you wanna get tagged. Thx so much for all the love and support for this book. Until we meet again!

[pricegouge]

I had a vision of Kyle being the sweetest (master manipulator) boyfriend ever. Like he’s so sweet and Reader likes to toe the line of being overly bratty. Snippy attitude, haughty, maybe even tries to ‘manipulate’ Kyle. All the while Kyle is just beaming on the inside and encouraging Reader’s. Behavior. He’s tallying up every time Reader does something cause he knows what’s coming to Reader sooner rather than later. But Kyle isn’t going to be the one that breaks his Reader, no no

Kyle calls in his Captain to help cause poor, sweet Kyle just ‘doesn’t’ have the heart to discipline his Reader.

Cue Reader, hours later after meeting Kyle’s Captain out of the blue, is crying and begging while Captain John “That’s sir to you, pet” Price withholds another orgasm. Making Reader beg and apologize over and over to Kyle while Price’s fingers are knuckle deep, not even giving Reader his cock cause Reader’s been such a brat to Kyle. All the while Kyle just coos and wipes Readers tears, acting all solemn like “this hurts me more than you, baby. Come on, just last another 10 minutes and then I know you’ll mean your sorrys.”

Bonus points to Kyle cause I just KNOW he didn’t tell Reader beforehand what he was planning to when his Captain came around. Godddddddd I know Kyle would give the best Stockholm Syndrome aftercare, really layering it on and then maybe helping Reader subtly to start being a brat again hehehehehehehehehe

yeah, that.

a string of pleas leak past your lips, coated in drool and spit and tasting vaguely of tears. you don't even know which of them you're begging anymore, eyes unfocused as they dart between the two looming shapes standing over you, working you in tandem, a cruel rhythm that has you arching with another swelling roll of pleasure which the captain doesn't allow to crest. he's got you legs folded to your chest, hips lifted to give him full access to your cunt where he mercilessly fucks three thick fingers into your sopping hole, your clit pinched cruelly between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand as he stills, waits you out as your body sings, faltering and stuttered, before falling back to the bed, underwhelmed.

"kyle," you eek, strained cries staining your voice. he doesn't even shush you as he thumbs your tears away, soaks up your pleas just as the dry calluses of his thumb absorb your tears.

"one more you think, cap?" his eyes are on you but he's not really looking at you, not seeing how tired and worn out you are already, resorting to his captain's judgement even here, with his partner's comfort on the line.

price's voice is low when he answers, barely even audible over the sounds he's pulling from your pussy as he starts in again, a slow, deep rhythm that makes your heartbeat stutter and stall, start again at the pace he sets. "three, if she's lucky."

[alexusonfire]

just rewatched Joan’s scenes in ahs coven because of you and there’s this scene where Fiona makes that comment about Christian’s being the biggest perverts behind closed doors and I was wondering what you think Joan’s “perversions” are? 👀

Okay this has made me feral and I've been thinking about it all day, please see below 😈

Okay first up, and the most obvious after my last fic, is biting**, specifically to mark. I think she does it once in a very heated moment and her brain clicks, so much so that if she's in a full-blown relationship, her partner is very rarely not marked/bitten. It will break skin, it will bruise, and it will hurt.

Next is Impact Play. Dominance and control are very much ingrained into Joan's personality, and I think this is one of her favorite ways to exert that in the bedroom. Could even add a little religious spin to it, her partner having to atone for their sinful thoughts and behaviours (wanting to fuck her brains out). Plus, she'd look hot with a riding crop or cane in hand, you cannot tell me otherwise.

Edging would be an additional way to “control”, as she quite literally decides when her partner finishes. She'd hold them so tenderly in her arms and whisper the sweetest nothings while they beg her for release; sometimes she gives it to them, and sometimes, if she's really in a mood, she doesn't.

This one I had to mull over, but I do think she'd be a bit… voyeuristic. It would either be that she'd watch/listen to her partner get off when they don't know she's there (something something it's a sin and she shouldn't be doing this...) OR back to the control aspect, she perches herself in a chair at the end of the bed and directs her partner on how to touch themselves. Her own little personal show if you will.

** Lastly, to go along with biting, maybe, maybe, some blood play??? I dunno you said vampire Joan and then I pictured blood on her teeth and got all hot and bothered. Probably less a Joan thing and more a me thing but like, possessive, unhinged, bordering on locking-you-in-her-basement-to-keep-you-all-to-herself Joan might get off on the whole “a part of you is inside me now”. Anywho. Definitely not going to dwell on that thought for the next few days. 😁

[fazyrich]

Tags: Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader(?), teasing, fighting, slightly playful Sylus, random encounter, kinda proofread?. This is my first attempt of writing 😬😬. So ignore my inconsistent writings *sobs*

You/MC, Sylus, Caleb

Going to an event with Sylus as an apology for accusing him about your family house explosion 💥.

___

While walking around during the party with Sylus, your hand slotted firmly on his left arm, you just stumble upon Caleb. It turned out the event was just another gathering for the usual shady dealings—no surprise they had invited the Colonel as well. His gaze locks onto yours instantly.

You could see his eyes widened in surprise, and feel them rake upon your body. Tightly wrapped with a maroon silk gown, slitted at your left thigh, successfuly showing off your long legs. The look was further complemented with a pair of louboutins.

On the other hand, Sylus could sense how your hand slightly gripped his arm a little too hard. Understanding that something or someone is making you feel nervous.

"Mr Sylus, I rarely see you around lately", the older gentleman in front of Caleb greets them. Judging from their positions, They must have been talking with each other.

"Ah, Mr Charles, it has been a while," Sylus replied. Nodding slightly to the elderly gentleman before resting his gaze to Caleb. Sensing the stare, Mr Charles quickly exclaimed

"Oh this is Caleb, a junior of mine from the Aviation team,"

"Pleased to meet you..Mr.Caleb", Sylus said, extending his hand. Caleb glanced at it for a second before gripping it firmly.

"Same here," he replied shortly, tightening his grip as he spoke. Not noticing the cold response, Mr Charles nodded to me as they released the handshake.

"Never seen you out with a partner before, May I ask who she is?"

"Oh, she's my.. fiancée," Sylus replied. Hearing this both Caleb and I turned to Sylus, eyes widening in shock. What the hell, he never says that before?!

"Hah! Congratulations Mr. Sylus. You two make quite the pair", the elderly man said with a chuckle as he praised us.

Caleb, however was still in shock, his fist tight as his knuckles turned white. How could his pips-..No, no, this must be a part of her mission or something. It's better to play along

Following Mr. Charles, Caleb gathered himself and flashed his usual million watt smile " I agree Mr. Charles, they do look perfect for each other,"

His eyes stray from Sylus and only rest on my face, I could feel the raging emotion he is shooting me behind those gentle pairs of amethysts.

"Thank you for the kind words, gentlemen. Don't mind her- she's albeit a little tired from the honeymoon," Sylus claims, his eyes twinkled with amusement. Meanwhile, Caleb's left eye involuntarily twitched at the statement.

Okay now, that's enough. I tried to subtly pinch his side, a signal for him to stop the storytelling however sometimes I forgot that this man is well built. The only thing I'm doing is tugging his jacket.

Sylus immediately leans down, " What was that, sweetie?," Half of his build covering the vision of those two men from me. I glared at him for a second. "Stop teasing," I whispered in his ear.

"No can do, kitten. I'm always worried about you," he states. His hand softly tucks a strand behind my ear.

"By the way, Mr. Sylus. If you don't mind, would you like to discuss a potential business venture? My junior here would like to share some of his insights," the elderly man spoke, gesturing towards the other side of the hall.

You mean a new illegal business? And of course the fleet is involved. I sighed

Straightening up , Sylus turns to me, his eyes alone gauging my reaction. I smiled and patted his chest

"You should go, honey. I think I'm going to get more drinks," I forced a polite smile toward the two men.

"Very well , don't overdo yourself sweetie or I'll need to carry you back to the car again," he teased. His hand caresses my face again before resting on the brooch he gave me. Which now had beend tinkered into a hair ornament.

I saw him silently mouthing something to me before he turned and walked away

"Be careful"

I watched the three of them leave before walking in the opposite direction. Approaching the table decorated with miniature snacks and various alcoholic drinks, I picked a tall glass of white wine.

The event replaying in my head. Sheesh, that was delightful haha. This was supposed to be a casual event.

Why is Caleb here for fuck's sake. I sighed before sipping the wine

I wonder if Caleb is pissed or worried about me? Glancing up at the huge analog clock hanging by the wall. I noted, Half an hour past midnight. My body tensed

This night is not going to end any sooner huh. More like, it just started.

---

Hours drifted by as if time had lost all meaning.

By the time I reached my third glass of wine, there was still no sign of Sylus anywhere in the hall. Damn it! Did he ditch me or something? I clicked my tongue in frustration.

Deciding that the need for fresh air is overwhelming, I walked around the hall searching for an empty space to rest. Complaints continued to leave me until I reached a quiet balcony on the furthest part of the hall.

Perfect, none of those creepy party attendants is here. I gleefully rejoiced for the personal space

Walking forward, I leaned against the balcony, the crisp night air wrapping around me like a silent embrace.

"Ughh where did Sylus go, I wanna leave this shitty place," I whined loudly while looking up into the starry skies.

"You’re leaving already?"

The unexpected voice makes me flinch slightly and my grip on the railing tightened.

I hesitantly glanced over my shoulder. Oh no. Just my luck. The one person I was trying to avoid.

I forced a casual smile. "Oh, hi. Uh... Mr. Caleb, right?". Did I stuttered too much?

"Cut it out, pips. It’s just us here, I made sure of it," Caleb said, stepping beside me.

He hesitated for a moment, as if debating something in his mind, before his sharp gaze rested on me.

"Is this another one of your missions?" His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it.

"Didn’t know that one of a hunter's responsibility includes being an escort." He tilted his head slightly, the faint glow of the stars barely reveal his face.

"That's none of your concern. Besides, why the heck a respected figure like you attending a flashy event like this, Colonel ? " I huffed, turning away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Before I could take another breath, his hand gripped my shoulder, firm and unyielding, forcing me to face him once more.

"To be honest, I don't care as long as you're safe, pips. But do you know who that man is? Did you really accept a job without any research beforehand ? How careless are you??," His eyes locked onto mine, searching intently for even the slightest hint of an answer.

Did he seriously believe this was a mission? This idiot—. I pushed off his grip and stepped back, putting some distance between us both.

"What the fuck Caleb?!, I told you it's none of your business ?," I snapped, running a hand through my hair. Before he could reply, I pressed on.

"Yes, I know exactly who he is, and No, this is not a mission. I’m here of my own free will," I said firmly, letting the words settle between us.

After a brief pause, I continued with shaky breath, my tone heavy with challenge. "Didn’t the Fleet already know I was in the N109 zone? What do you think happened there, Caleb?".

The question struck Caleb like lightning, I could see various emotions cross his face before settling into one, Anger.

"You know who he is and you still out here with him?? Are you INSANE, pips?! Do you know how dangerous he is?!," the strings of questions edged with anger makes me flinch again.

"And what the fuck do you mean, 'what happened there?', What are you trying to imply ?," Caleb cursed, taking a step forward before stopping. He hesitates before continuing.

"He kills people for a living, for fuck's sake," he grumbles, frustation clearly displayed on his features.

"And you don't?," I laughed, the question hanging in the air. It silenced him beyond words.

Caleb was stunned at my accusation, watching him staggering back slowly makes me feel guilty for saying that.

Despite your anger, you realize Caleb is just worried about you. Gravely worried. Who are you kidding? The memories of those few days you guys spent together in Skyhaven should have made that clear, yet it still takes you by surprise.

Sometimes it hits you how Caleb, your Caleb, always make sure you are within his sight. Even back when you were kids.

Afterall, he is still Caleb. One of the few people I care for and -...the few that deeply cares about me. Looking down, I sighed.

"Look, it's fine Caleb. I'm fine, me and him, we are..- acquittances...at best. Well, he didn't..- exactly do anything bad to me," I shrugged hesitantly.

Well he did kindap and restrained me for what? three days?, but hey everyone make mistakes right? Haha

"How exactly do you want me to believe that? Do you even have evidence?," Caleb snorts, still not trusting the poor explanation.

"What if the man himself, vouch for that?," a familiar, silky voice responds.

Finally

Sylus walked right in between the both of us. He looked at Caleb for a second before turning to me.

"Are you okay, sweetie? You look exhausted,"

"I'm..-fine, just tired. You did leave me alone for hours, jerk,"

"You know how business works, it takes a long time to process but I'm done now," Sylus chuckled, stepping to my side facing the other man.

"If you don't believe her, I can asure you that she's fine and this outing of ours? Just a payback for the accusation she threw at me initially," Sylus explains, staring right into Caleb's face.

"Accu-sations ?," Caleb was taken aback. What type of accusation that fueled her to confront a highly wanted criminal?

"Uhhh, about tha-,"

"She accused me of killing you and your grandma I believe, her resolve was so strong she succeded in shooting me," Sylus smirks as if the explanation was some kind of a joke.

It was silent for a minute before Caleb speaks

"Pips, you..- you did that for me and gran?.. -For us?," the anger has left Caleb by now. He couldn't believe what he just heard, his pips trying to deliver justice for him but at the wrong address it seems.

She did it for me? For me and grandma? Caleb was touched but the fact that she was putting her life on a thread just to meet this man still bothers him.

Noticing Caleb had eased up after the explanation, you seized the moment to strengthen Sylus's explanation, " Yeah, I did - anddd one thing let to another. So now we're like business partners , just helping each other out,"

Sylus raised his eyebrow at my not-so-true claims but I nudged his side a little hard, hinting him to play along. He smirks. This man!

"If that’s all, I think you should head back inside. Mr. Caleb, your senior was looking for you just as we wrapped up our business discussion."

Caleb stiffened, he quickly glanced at his watch. Crap, had he really been gone this long?

Caleb sighed, "Fine, I’ll let it go... For Now. But you still owe me a proper explanation, Pips," he paused before shooting a pointed look . "I’ll call you later. And you—" Caleb’s sharp gaze landed on Sylus. "Take care of her, got it? If so much as a single hair is out of place, I will—"

"Yes I understand mother hen, now shoo. Get back to work," my hand gesturing towards the door. Caleb clicked his tounge at me, taking one last look, and he finally left.

Not even a few seconds later

"So, I make a living by killing people, huh? That’s crude," Sylus remarked as soon as Caleb was out of sight.

"Oh shut up Sylus, just take me back home neoww," I groaned impatiently.

"As you wish, kitten," he chuckled.

***

So yeah everyone, sorry for the wait 🙏🏻. I had to ask my friend to help me construct some of the sentences and dialogues, hehe.

This is my version of the ending, I'm not sure if this is angsty or dramatic but hopefully this is up to your taste. Thanks again for your kind words and of course, anyone want to write an alternate ending of this. Please do 😝🙌🏻 (especially smut)

I was thinking of writing another prompt on 'what if Caleb actually held the fake funeral of us' 🤔 but I have my finals next week 😩😩( wish me luck 🤞🏻😀). See you when I see you, xoxo

[panlight]

Tbh I've always thought that what really fucked Bella up in New Moon was the fact that Edward took all of her photos of him and left her without any evidence that he really even existed. And the Cullen leaving just felt like part of that. If they'd stayed but he still took her stuff, she probably would've done better, but if they left and she had her stuff, she also probably would've done better.

Like, in Twilight, Bella did almost die. She brushes it off but I wish New Moon had delved more into how traumatic that would've been, like instead of having nightmares about aging, she could've been having nightmares about James, and how fragile she is as a human. And everyone except for the Cullen think that she just fell down a flight of stairs, scary but not traumatizing. So when the cullens left, everyone that knew the truth was gone, and anyone she could be honest with was gone. Which isn't on them but it seems a little irresponsible, like it's against the law to tell humans the truth so we are going to leave the one human we told alone and never check in on her and make sure she isn't a) losing her mind or b) telling other people. If they owe her anything, they don't owe it to her as Edward's ex-girlfriend, they owe it her as someone that Edward and Alice brought into their world and endangered.

Aside from that, though, the fact that Edward took any trace of him meant that not only could she not be honest with anyone around her, she can't grieve the relationship properly and also she has no *tangible* evidence that he wasn't human. At least in photos you could see the paleness and the eyes. All she has is the scar James' left, which is probably wrapped in its own traumatic memories. If you had to lie to everyone around you for 6ish months, then the only people you could tell the truth to disappear and the only "evidence" you have of the truth also disappears, and you *still* have to lie to everyone around you, wouldn't you lose it a little bit? Wouldn't you start to wonder if you hallucinated the whole thing?

Like, when she sees Laurent, she's actually excited at first. Here is evidence that I did almost die in Phoenix! Here is someone I can be honest with! Here is proof that I'm not crazy! Seeing Laurent isn't painful for her the way that thinking about Edward is, she doesn't try to avoid him or have a panic attack at first.

To me, Bella's depression in new moon wasn't just about the break-up. It was also about how knowing about vampires isolated her from her human friends and family, and when the vampires left, she was alone. There were too many secrets between her and other humans for them to have normal relationships with them. Even if the cullens stayed and she avoided them, at least she knows it was real.

She's also in more danger from other vampires for the rest of her life because she knows, because anyone could come across her and say "shoot, she puts us in danger of exposure, gotta kill her I guess."

Still, I feel like people pay too much attention to the question "hey, is it messed up or not that the cullens left?" and not "hey, is it messed up or not that Edward basically stole Bella's things when he left?"

Yeah this makes sense to me. How being cut off from the vampire world and not having any proof it was even real would mess with someone. Not being able to talk honestly about what you've been through with someone. Edward is trying for a 'clean break' but in doing so removes the proof that he and the whole family was real.

What I never got about the 'abandoned' argument was like "how could Esme and Carlisle abandon their daughter!" because I just did not read their relationship like that. That birthday party in New Moon did not read to me as a family celebrating one of their own; it read as a family trying to be welcoming to a family member's newish partner. They like her. They care about her. But they don't know her that well yet and she doesn't know them that well yet. That conversation she had with Carlisle over stitches is not a conversation you have with your dad or even with your father-in-law; it's a conversation you have with someone you're still getting to know. She's asking him like, really basic stuff about the whole vegetarian thing. At this point in the story she doesn't even know Rosalie and Jasper's backstories yet. She doesn't seem to ever learn Esme's full story. Canonically, Emmett and Rosalie had been in Africa; Bella says at the birthday part it's been months since she's seen them. She and Edward have only been dating for six months, which is a long time for a high school kid, but it's literally nothing for immortal vampires.

The sense I got from New Moon was that the Cullens were still trying to figure out how this was going to end with Edward and Bella. And we learn from Midnight Sun he was planning to leave all along. I feel like Bella thought this was permanent and the "future, the family" she had chosen, but I don't think the Cullens were looking at it the same way. No one was using the word 'mate' in canon; Edward and Bella were not engaged, there was no plan to make her a vampire. Everything was still in limbo. I think Bella loved the idea of being part of this big family but I don't think she really knew them as individuals yet except Edward and Alice (even Emmett, again canonically, was not around that summer to bond with).

Obviously everyone has different headcanons, but there's roughly where mine is. I'm sure they were sorry to leave and that, other than Rosalie, they liked her, but I think they already had a sense that this arrangement between Edward and Bella might not, could not, last. I don't feel like they thought they were leaving behind a family member, just a could-have-been family member. She's like Bree Tanner in Eclipse; they would have happily taken her in. But they hadn't yet and they can't like, force Edward to keep dating her.

But yeah I think the disorientation of having no evidence (except the stereo; she clawed that out of the dashboard herself, didn't she?) and having no one to talk about it with is the real issue; THAT would take a toll on anyone's mental health even without the break up. I just didn't feel like she actually cared that much about the Cullens beyond that; hence the Scenario 2 the other day where Edward stayed but everyone else left. I think she'd feel guilty that she separated Edward from his family but that would be it. If she had Edward, she wouldn't be super bothered to not have the others around.

[rationalnerd62]

I'm feeling weirdly about C3 ending next week (I guess there's some sadness mixed with other stuff, but me, putting feelings into words? Not in my autism), so instead of thinking too much about those feelings, I want to list random things about Bell's Hells I'd like to get resolved or developed, either in that 8.5h finale or in future BH one-shots (cause they've got to have some one day, right? Right?).

It's in no particular order whatsoever, I'm just putting random thoughts out there (and hoping to see other people's random thoughts too).

Titans' shenanigans! Both Ashton and Fearne absorbed a shard, and got some nice abilities out of it, but is there more to explore here? What does this mean for the elemental life of Exandria? Is this a path to some resurgence of the Titans? Are there other shards elsewhere? Will Ashton ever meet some remains of the cult their parents were in? Is that something they're still interested in knowing more about?

Ludinus! I am hoping this won't get resolved in the finale, because this would give big Trent M9 finale vibes and feel rushed, but that damn elf is still somewhere out there! What are his goals now that Predathos is out / the BH finale deals with the Gods in a way or another? Will he ever come back to haunt our characters?

Laudna! The Matron hinted that there was a possible path to her getting back what got stolen from her (aka her mortality). While I never would want for her to become a "normal human mortal" (she should still be able to get a form of dread and play with shadow and have fun with some of her "monstrous" powers!), I honestly will hate it if my favourite CR couple is *another one* of those couples with wildly different aging speed and one of the member of the couple has to outline the other for decades or centuries. Let Imogen and Laudna grow old together in their little cottage! They deserve it! I could see that being resolved as a "gift" from the Gods (if there's a good outcome with them), but I also wouldn't say no to a post-canon story (one shot, novel, comics, who knows) centered on this. I could see both Imogen and Laudna having made their peace with this, and then maybe in a few years they're starting to talk about kids, and there's this realization that Laudna will also outlive those, and that's when she decides that she needs to do *something*. I don't know whether that's possible, but Matthew! More impossible things have been done in your world!

The Shade Mother! Is she still under Jrusar? It's kinda funny that BH's first main arc ended up with them running away and never finishing there ahaha.

Similarly, will they ever go down to find FCG's coin that Orym had thrown under Jrusar? I know at least some of the cast mentioned being curious about that.

Hey, talking about FCC, will BH Talk with Frida? What about D? Our group really didn't have much time to mourn him, so maybe finding the answers FCG was looking for regarding who he is would be a way for them to process their grief.

(I just had a thought about Ashton going back to Jrusar and Milo without FCG and this broke my heart)

Dorian and his family! He has mentioned them before, and we've met his father, but seeing where he grew up and having him introduce Orym would be nice. And vice versa with Orym introducing Dorian to his family (as his partner instead of his friend). But I'm hopeful this'll get brought up in the finale.

Imodna wedding! Because Laura Bailey deserves to have three weddings one-shot.

More Unseelie stuff! Idk, I feel like there was still more to do wrt Fearne & the Feys.

I'm hoping for a moment with Imogen and her parents in the finale. It's really the end of a big journey for Liliana, but there's another journey to start, about rebuilding (or trying to rebuild) those relationships that got affected by her search for answers. There's a "back from the war" vibe here, and I want to see it.

VM got some pre-campaign comics, M9 got some individual character origins comics, BH also deserves some comics! But what type? I'm not sure how I'd feel if it was exactly as what M9 got, so I'm hoping they'll get some original ideas within the CR crew!

Last (for now) but not least, when is Chetney finally going to die?

[beef-brisket]

Adam smiled: You don't owe me anything, Charlie. I know what it's like to want your father to show how much he cares. Picking you was the right option-.

Adam jumped as Charlie wrapped her arms around him. He quickly returned the favour and rubbed her back once he heard her crying.

He was never angry at Charlie. Her parents were together a lot longer than any human child could fathom. It was only right she'd want them together again. She wanted normalcy and to feel loved.

Adam understood that all too well.

There was a chime that rang throughout Hell, indicating the extermination was coming to an end.

Charlie stood back, expecting Adam to return to Heaven. But when her dad came over and hugged him, she noticed more and more exorcists fly through the portal.

Charlie: Uh- Adam. The portal's closing soon.

Adam smiled: Thanks, Charlie. But I'm not going back to Heaven. And I have a feeling they all know it, to.

Looking out the window, they watched as angels flew up, leaving anarchy and chaos on the streets.

Lucifer: A-Are you sure, dove? I don't- you deserve- Addy-.

Leaning down, Adam kissed him: I know what I'm doing, Lu. And what I want. Besides, I think being a fallen angel would suit me better. It's too bright up there.

Charlie and Lucifer laughed before they watched the last exorcist fly up and out of Hell, the portal closing.

Charlie smiled: I'll uh... catch up with you later this week, dad.

Lucifer: Brunch?

Charlie went over and hugged her father tightly: Brunch.

With one-step wave to both Adam and Lucifer, Charlie left the room.

Adam: ...So.

Lucifer: God, I love it when you wear tight clothes~.

Adam laughed and blushed as Lucifer gripped his hips and pulled his uniform even tighter, showing off his curves.

Lucifer: I'm so glad you kept this sinful body~.

With Adam's wi g's fluffing up, he squeaked as Lucifer picked him up, and spun him around.

Once he stopped, Lucifer pulled him with a kiss.

Lucifer: I can't believe you did this... for me.

Adam cupped Lucifer's cheek: You saved my life, Lu. Showed me things I'd only dreamed of. Given me love when I was so sure I didn't deserve it. I'd do anything for you, anything.

Lucifer smiled brightly: Would you marry me?

Adam: Anything- wait, what? M-marry you?

Looking at his partner in shock, Lucifer placed his love back on the floor and got on one knee, pulling out a dark red velvet box.

Lucifer: Adam- I got this... so long ago. I knew from the beginning that you were the one. You've saved me from myself- and have done more for me than anyone I know. I... fuck- I love you so much, and these few months without you killed me. Adam Kadmon, would you do me the honour of marrying you, and ruling Hell by your side...?

Adam was beyond crying before Lucifer had even finished, but when it was his time to answer, he managed to squeak out a:

Adam: Y-Yes- FUCK yes!

I also really love Nun Adam. But this time let him be a real nun and Lucifer come up as the devil looking for a new human bride 👀

I'm weak for aus like this.

I love nun!Adam au's!

Maybe too much.

Who am I kidding? There's no such thing. I'm so keen for this btw!

Let's start a new rp!

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters React to the Cosmere Femslash Prompt Generator

Happy femslash February! @gal-palanaeum has created a Cosmere Femslash Prompt Generator (here) which creates fun ships & scenarios to inspire you! Please check it out!

Me being me, I've created a bunch of randomly generated prompts to consider how Cosmere characters might react to them.

1. The Prompt: "Venli couldn't stand Palona at first, but then..."

Venli: [Looks expectantly at Palona] Venli: Well? What about you is going to win me over? Palona: Hmmm...well, there was a time my partner and I had a literal picnic during the onset of the world's first Everstorm--on the Shattered Plains. You know, the very place where the two storms were crashing into each other. Venli: ... Venli: Dammit, that IS really hot...

2. The Prompt: "If Shallan keeps looking so maladroit I'm going to end up scrying her," Tindwyl whispered to herself."

Shallan: [scoffs] "Maladroit"? I've never been maladroit in my life! Tindwyl: [calmly holds up a screenshot of Shallan sprawled out on the floor with her underwear showing] Shallan: T-That was on purpose! Tindwyl: Mmm-hmmm.

3. The Prompt: "Can't you be normal about Hesina for five minutes?" Jasnah growled at Palona.

Hesina: Oooh, so in this story, the Alethi Queen and Urithiru's economic powerhouse are fighting over me?? Hesina: What happens next?? Jasnah [who had been about to criticize the implication that she would tell any woman to be "normal"]: Well... Palona [who had been about to criticize the implication that she'd let any situation devolve to the point of growling]: Uh... Jasnah: Perhaps...Palona starts to expound on your virtues? Palona: Y-Yes, the words, "How COULD I be normal about such a woman" are surely coming next. Hesina: [eyes sparking]

4. The Prompt: "Watching Akane and Yumi kiss made the Midnight Mother feel so mean!"

Akane: The Midnight Mother...is homophobic? Yumi: W-We should make out harder to show her the error of her ways!

5. The Prompt: "Cord and Rysn were constantly trying to pinch each other, until something changed…"

Rysn: [Looks at Cord] Cord: [Looks at Rysn] Rysn: [Imagining sloppy make-outs] Cord: [Imagining her defending Rysn from a sudden pirate attack after which she leaps to safety with Rysn in her arms] Rysn: C-Can you imagine... Cord: H-Ha, yeah...

6. The Prompt: "Sylphrena nodded, looking over her plans. 'The only way to stay on the Wind's Pleasure is to break up Cord and Rysn,' she announced."

Cord: Uh, wow. Rysn: Dishonor Spren, more like. Syl: I-I'm sure it's one of those stories where you'd end up getting back together!!!

7. The Prompt: Eshonai and Vivenna walked hand in hand in the Nightwatcher's Valley, with their trusty havah nearby.

Vivenna: Now, I'm relatively new to this world, but isn't a "havah," like, the main piece of a woman's clothing? Eshonai: Among Vorin humans, yeah. Vivenna: So are we, like, strolling naked? Eshonai: On our way to see a dragon. Vivenna: Kinky.

8. The Prompt: "'Sure, I'm atop Gallant,' Radiant smiled, 'but I would leave it all behind for you.' // 'Even your spren?' Design asked, blushing."

Pattern: Mmmm, ditching your chaperone, Radiant?? Pattern: I know what that means!

9. The Prompt: "She was running out of time. If Queen Fen didn't act fast, she might lose her chance to ask Jaxlim on a date."

Jaxlim: Ah yes, this is told of in our ancient songs... Jaxlim: It is called "Old Woman Yuri." Fen: Is that...really in the ancient Listener songs? Jaxlim: [smiles cryptically]

10. The Prompt: "'I wish I could milk Azure and Jasnah,' Sylphrena said."

Azure: ... Jasnah: ... Syl: ... Azure: ... Jasnah: ... Syl: Although...you know, now that I'm thinking about it... Jasnah & Azure: NO