#apparently i have more to say than i thought

[emphistic]

MEDDLE ABOUT

SYN. Being co-stars with your ex-boyfriend of three months is basically hell; or at least, that's what you think. AKA: Sukuna wants you back, whether he's acting or not.

TAGS. actor AU, fem!Reader, mean!Sukuna, exes to lovers, forced proximity, sharing a cigarette, smoking, arguing, eventual smut, Sukuna likes to shut you up with his dick, cockwarming, answering the phone during séx, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, porn w/o plot, use of pet names: baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, my dear (mockingly)

WC. 5.4k (please read anyway 😞)

AN. requested by anon (you didn't specify any genre, so i just freestyled 🤷‍♀️), animated dividers by @/cafekitsune; i'm a sucker for actor AUs; available on ao3; MDNI

“I know you wanna kiss me,” you smiled, leaning closer to Sukuna’s face. Your noses were barely apart, and you couldn’t tell where his breath ended, and where yours started. To be honest, this was far more intimate than any other kiss scene you ever had to film.

“Yeah?” Sukuna grinned, getting equally as close. “And what’re you going to do about that, pretty girl?”

“. . .Fucking slap you, that’s what.” 

“CUT!” The director yelled, groaning in exasperation. “C’mon, people. I know it’s been a long day, but put your differences aside for the sake of one movie, will ya? When you receive your paycheck, you’ll regret all of this ‘huffing and puffing’ you two are both doing right now.”

You exhaled, pulling away from Sukuna. It’s not that you couldn’t remember your correct lines, it’s just. . . You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in the same room as him, breathing in the same air as him, starring in the same movie with him. Fuck, you hated this.

You and Sukuna had broken up exactly three months ago despite having what seemed like a pretty healthy relationship. Seemed is the key word.

Of course, you two had your ups and downs, like an ordinary couple, but what differentiated you two from a normal couple was the fact that you guys both juggled busy careers as an actor and actress. Being booked with interviews, PR stunts, and in general, movies, you and Sukuna didn’t have the ability to spend much time together. And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was constantly a multitude of women on his arm during movie premieres. Yeah, you knew those were all for PR, but still, it hurt to see your boyfriend standing with a woman that wasn’t you every day.

At first, you thought you could take it. Being an actress yourself, you had your fair share of rumors and made up scandals. But it came to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You and Sukuna broke up, consequently, and fans immediately voiced their opinions and concerns, bombarding Twitter with trending tags, and posting videos on several apps. The internet had been obsessed with you guys as a couple since the first movie you two co-starred in—which was years ago—so their complaints definitely weren’t for naught.

Originally, you thought that your relationship with Sukuna would end on good terms, but boy, oh boy, were you wrong. Sukuna, just mere days after your breakup, was spotted by paparazzi walking around the city with his arm around a girl you definitely did not recognize as one of his current co-stars. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to hit you up and ask if he could come over to your penthouse right after.

Men, am I right?

You two may or may not have slept together as exes a few times after your inevitable argument about him and that new girl, but rest assured, you did eventually break things off permanently. Well, you thought you did. As if by fate, you and Sukuna were casted as co-stars in an up-and-coming romance movie that had your fans just dying in anticipation of finally being able to see their favorite (broken up) couple together on screen again.

To be frank, you were originally going to pass up the role as the female lead—seeing as your luck had landed you as co-stars with Sukuna—but your manager apparently really, really wanted you to work on the film, saying things like Think of how elated your fans will be and It’s an adaptation from a book that made millions and Just imagine all of the PR and promoting you could do. It took a while of convincing—and coercing—to get you to finally agree to the role since, after all, PR was the main reason for your and Sukuna’s breakup. But, honestly, you would be lying if you said there weren’t any feelings left for your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna.

“I think we should all take a breather,” Sukuna began, jeering, “before someone gets all hot and bothered by just being on the same set as me. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sukuna turned to you, an expression on his face that just made you want to punch him in the nose.

“‘Hot and bothered’, seriously? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sukuna tilted his head to the side, grinning. “Do you think I’m joking? I could feel the way your heart was racing earlier, when we had to shoot that hugging in the rain scene. Just admit it, this isn’t acting for you.”

He was definitely self-projecting, you scowled just by the thought of it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. We all know how you really feel,” Sukuna teased, leaning down to your eye-level. His breath fanned your reddening ear as he whispered, “You want me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid.”

And when he pulled away, Sukuna added one last remark, “I know it’s been a long three months for you. Say, how’s that blondie treating you, hm? I bet his dick is as small as his future in acting.”

“Ryomen, just stop.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that with him, and you know that. Just leave me alone.”

You shoved at his chest as you walked off set, your assistants following you promptly with water bottles and towels.

In all honesty, you remembered it like it happened yesterday. Before you and Sukuna became boyfriend and girlfriend, your first meeting was in a movie that you both starred in as the female and male lead. It was a romance movie, of course, that was about a couple meeting on an island while both on individual vacations. You two spent most of your days on set in swimsuits and bikinis, consuming fake alcoholic beverages, and, consequently, sleeping together—after the tension just grew unbearable.

On and off camera, Sukuna had been growing an attraction towards you. I mean, who could blame him? You two had to be near each other while being basically half-naked. And, if your pretty face wasn’t enough to beguile Sukuna, your ass definitely was. From the moment he shook hands with you at your first meeting as co-stars, he knew he had to have you—acting or not.

That movie was the start of the skyrocketing of both your and Sukuna’s career in acting. Fans quickly noted how much chemistry the two of you had together, and how well you two could act out emotions and intimate scenes. What the audience didn’t know, though, was that you and Sukuna had started seeing each other a few weeks after shooting together.

Sukuna had invited over the whole cast and team for drinks after a successful movie premiere, and you two ended up talking and conversing in his kitchen whilst a little under the influence. You two hit it off, and learned that being an aspiring actor wasn’t the only thing you two had in common. One glass turned into two, and two turned into stumbling into Sukuna’s bedroom after everyone had responsibly ordered a cab home.

Waking up the morning after, and deciding it wasn’t just going to be a one night stand, you and Sukuna thus began your new relationship. At first, you two avoided being spotted in public together, but it came to a point where your relationship just couldn’t be hidden anymore and you both decided to go public. The internet responded almost immediately with cheers, enthusiasm, and occasionally, expressions showing how un-surprised they were. I mean, you two had been shipped together almost constantly; making it official was almost expected. 

Years passed, the honeymoon stage was over, your careers were more demanding and busy than they had ever been, and, well, you know the rest.

—

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

A grimace immediately made its way onto your face at the sound of Sukuna’s voice calling out to you from behind. 

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, turning to face Sukuna as he sat down beside you and slung an arm around the back of the couch, “I was hoping the next time I saw you would be at your funeral.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” chided Sukuna, as he brought out a cigarette and lit it.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the couch. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sukuna leaned his face closer to yours, his eyes running down your face and naturally drifting to your lips.

“Unless you’re being your usual asshole-self, and here to annoy me in my dressing room, I’m afraid not.”

After you stormed off set, the director decided it was best to just call it a day and continue filming tomorrow. You went outside for a bit to get some fresh air, before deciding to return to your dressing room and get unready. Stripping down and putting on nothing but your robe, you had sat yourself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, planning on spending a few minutes relaxing before making your way home. Sukuna barging in, despite being off the clock, was something you definitely weren’t expecting. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and if someone found out. . .

“You’ll be in a lot of trouble if my makeup artist comes in here and sees you,” you commented. “Go smoke somewhere else.”

At this, Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to your own, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before blowing out the smoke right in front of your face. Your nose scrunched up, as if on instinct, and Sukuna booped your nose with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I swear,” you began, snatching the cigarette out of Sukuna’s hands, “if I don’t kill you, I hope these will.” Now was your turn to put the cigarette between your lips. You inhaled, and took a deep breath. But, only moments after, the cigarette was out of your hands and abruptly stubbed on a nearby ashtray.

Sukuna looked at you with an intent look on his face. “As much as I find that hot, I’d rather I be the one damaging my lungs. Not you.”

“Looking out for little old me? How cute,” you smiled, your tone sarcastic. “I see you’re not over us, yet, hm? Did that new girl change your mind?”

You leaned closer to Sukuna, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

As soon as you mentioned that other chick, Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It was nothing, we didn’t even hold hands. C’mon, all we did was sit next to each other at a party, and now you’re on my ass about her?”

You shrugged, picking up the magazine you had previously discarded and flipping through the pages with faux interest. “Oh, really? Didn’t look that way to me. You two sure seemed buddy-buddy.”

“Like hell we did. Fuck, do you want me to bring up that twig you were with last week? Kid’s got no meat on his arms. Can’t even call him a man. Is that seriously how low you’re willing to go, babe?” Sukuna scoffed at your lack of attention to him. “Shit’s even worse than a downgrade.”

“You can think that all you want. But I definitely disagree.” You struggled to stifle a giggle.

Sukuna, furrowing his brows, narrowed his eyes at you. “The fuck do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you’ve seen his dick.”

“I dunno, have I?” You turned to Sukuna, meeting his gaze with an equal amount of irritation.

“Must’ve been pretty small, though, if you can’t even remember it,” Sukuna pressed, leaning closer to you, your noses touching, before pulling away. “Whatever, this is boring. Say, how about we get back to where we left off, and practice that kissing scene, hm? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Ryomen, let’s not. You know we’re done. Been done. We’re through.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, is it not obvious? I think it was pretty obvious when you had the nerve to get with a new girl just days after we broke up. And then you have the balls to call me right after the paparazzi catches you two. Really, Sukuna? I don’t mind the idea of us ending on neutral terms, but . . . 48 hours? Two days after we broke up, and you’re already fucking some girl? Way to go, Sukuna.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, baby. We didn’t even kiss, did you see any pictures of us kissing? No. And, besides, it’s called provocation. Honestly, you should be praising me, because it worked in the end, didn’t it? I came ‘crawling back’ like one of your little bitch boys, and what happened? Oh, I remember; you let me right the fuck in to your apartment.”

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny Sukuna. He was right. And, just the mere thought of what you two did after he hit you up brought heat to your cheeks.

The very same night after pictures of Sukuna and that new girl started circulating around the internet, Sukuna decided to text you:

hey pretty girl,

you up?

You were drying yourself off with a towel when you received two notifications on your phone, and when you saw the contact name, you frowned and turned off your phone without giving a response. Minutes after, there was a ring on your doorbell, and when you checked the camera, lo and behold, stood none other than the last pink-haired man you wanted to see that evening.

When you opened the door, wearing nothing other than a towel around your still dripping body, Sukuna couldn’t help but shamelessly check you out, deciding then and there that this definitely wasn’t going to be the end of your relationship. Of course, an argument ensued soon after, because that’s what life was like dating a dick like Sukuna. Luckily for you, however, Sukuna’s bulge in his pants was bigger than his ego, and so it made up for all of the playful bullying and teasing remarks that he frequently gave.

Sukuna—because he wasn’t born yesterday—knew his looks and charms fairly well, and often used them as a weapon or bargaining chip. That’s why, after you spent a minute or two berating and yelling at Sukuna near your front door, it only took the man one look into your eyes and one sultry comment to have you both stumbling into the . . . bedroom? No, you two had been apart for two days too long, and just decided to utilize your expensive kitchen counters for purposes completely unrelated to cooking.

The next morning, you two woke up—after getting just half an hour of sleep—and didn’t untangle from each other’s limbs until your manager called you nearly a hundred times, and forced you to get up and attend some interview or something. That, however, was not your last night with Sukuna. You two met up—intentionally or not—within the same week, whether it be at interviews or just random outings, and meddled with the other until one of you would fold (usually Sukuna) and consequently do something you would end up not fully regretting the next morning.

This affair continued until you finally came to your senses and blocked Sukuna out from your life in all ways possible. But, due to his bank account, Sukuna did end up purchasing multiple different phones just to be able to contact you. You may or may not have given in a few times, but in the end, you did end up leaving Sukuna for good.

“Reminiscing, are you? It’s okay, I’ve been doing that every night since you left the penthouse,” Sukuna laughed, noticing the way you went silent. You hated the way he referred to his place as The penthouse, and not, simply, his penthouse because, to be frank, for the years you both spent as a couple, you practically lived together despite having individual residences.

“What the hell, Sukuna. Just—Why are you even—?”

Sukuna cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I find it pretty hard to believe that not a single part of you misses me. Don’t lie; lying is a sin, y’know.”

“Sukuna—Excuse me? Don’t give me that shit. ‘Lying is a sin’ my ass. You must have to ask for God’s forgiveness pretty often, then. I can’t believe you want to call me a sinner, I mean, just—just look at you! You’re no saint, either, and you know that damn well.”

Sukuna raised his hands in defense, humoring you. “Woah, looks like I’ve been caught,” he laughed, before getting a little more serious. “But, don’t try to avoid the fact that you’re not innocent. Okay, we broke up due to not being able to make time for each other, and because of how much women I had to be around. Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like I was the only one taking up PR stunts. You did the same, too, didn’t you? So don’t try and paint me out to be the bad guy, when, at the end of the day, we did the same fucking thing.”

Irritated, you pinched the space between your brows. “I barely have any energy to say something to your stupid face right now. We broke up because of that, but also because of how much of a fucking dick you were and are. I knew you weren’t a total angel when we got together but—”

“Look. Do you want a nice guy?”

“. . .”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, baby. We all know how you really feel.”

“Go. to. Hell. Sukuna. Seriously. This? Again? Do you even know how much of an ass you are? I should deserve an award for putting up with your shit for so long, God—”

“Yeahh, just keep talking,” said Sukuna in a teasing manner, as he leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs apart. You had never wanted to sit somewhere so bad.

“Are you fucking kidding me—mmph!”

You would’ve continued yelling and cursing Sukuna out for being such a dick had he not roughly pressed his lips against yours, immediately shutting you up. Because you still had some self-respect left, you fought back, throwing weak punches at his chest; but when Sukuna caught your wrists in his hands, you knew it was game over. Your muffled complaints soon turned to whimpers and sighs, as you shut your eyes and let your body do the talking.

Minute after minute, you gradually turned to putty in Sukuna’s hands. Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you had truly missed this. The feeling of his large, coarse hands roaming your body, tracing your curves, the feeling of his soft, but unruly hair under your fingertips, but most importantly, the feeling of his lips on yours.

At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, pulling away for a moment to breathe. “We’re not together anymore. We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t?” repeated Sukuna, eager to get back to where you left off. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Am I in a relationship with someone else? No, and no. So enlighten me, my dear, why should we stop?”

“. . .” It was like he was challenging you, except, this time, it was a battle you could afford to lose. You wanted Sukuna, you really did. But admitting it was the hard part. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating every outcome, as Sukuna continued to stare at you with so much desire you could practically feel it.

“Are you hesitating because,” Sukuna paused, “—because you fucked someone else while I was gone?”

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat; you had never been more conflicted in your life. Placing your hands on Sukuna’s shoulders, you pushed back until Sukuna was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on top of him—seated on his lap. As if on instinct, his hands made their way from your hips to the curve of your ass.

Sukuna gripped the globes of fat and muscle with a purpose, and let out an exaggerated groan at the missed feeling of you practically sitting on his dick. You were wearing nothing but a dainty, silky robe, and you clearly didn’t cross it over your chest too well, as Sukuna could see almost everything he had been missing out on during the past few months.

“Don’t even think about lying to me. I can feel you throbbing on my thigh, y’know.”

“. . .And?” You raised a brow; whispering in Sukuna’s ear, “What about it?”

Biting your lip, you let your hands wander up and down Sukuna’s neck, the spot you knew he liked you touching. When you broke things off with Sukuna, you didn’t know you could miss being able to trace his tattoos as bad as you did.

“Oh?” asked Sukuna. But when his fingers wandered up your robe, there was a sudden change in Sukuna’s demeanor, and he sucked in a breath.

“Adorable,” you laughed. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shit, baby,” Sukuna groaned, “I bet you were expecting me to come and visit your little dressing room, huh. Even planned ahead and gave me a little surprise. Cheeky thing.”

Just seconds earlier, Sukuna’s fingers had been teasingly ghosting where you wanted him most, but when he noticed the lack of underwear you had on, he nearly lost it. You clearly weren’t making it easy for Sukuna to stay composed, he was sure of that much. Despite all of his belittling and teasing remarks, he definitely wasn’t as unaffected as he let himself seem to be.

“We’ve just been apart for so, so long.” You looked into Sukuna’s eyes, a faux pout on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits up against his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck, girl,” Sukuna kissed his teeth. “You’re dripping wet. All for me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

Sukuna’s fingers danced around your entrance, collecting your slick as you pressed your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs (not like he was complaining, though; that was probably the closest to Heaven Sukuna would ever get in his lifetime). “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t a surprise when you pressed your lips against Sukuna’s, bringing him in for another zealous kiss. In an effort to get impossibly closer, your body curved into his, like you were puzzle pieces molded and created just for each other. You two moved in sync, as if you had both rehearsed this before; but, in truth, you two had just made out too many times to count, so kissing Sukuna was basically like breathing air. You needed it to survive, and, it was light work. What more could you say?

The tension and lust between you two grew, and your dressing room soon filled with the sound of sensual desire, moans and quiet gasps, and the creaking of the framework of your unfortunate couch, which had the misfortune of being beneath the two of you.

From the moment you had begun straddling his lap, you had pretended not to notice the growing erection below you; but, by now, it was pretty hard to ignore the bulge pressing against your ass. It was like, during the months you two spent apart, Sukuna’s dick was growing even larger than before. You didn’t remember it being so big. And, just the sight of it was enough to make you lick your lips in fear? Anticipation? . . .Definitely a mix of both.

As Sukuna made a show of removing his belt and pants, he grinned at the evident look of unfamiliarity on your face. “Scared?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, trying to put up a front, but your body betrayed you, displaying otherwise.

“Naturally,” Sukuna mocked, “that’s why I can practically feel your arousal, right?”

You bit your lip, “Shut up.”

Sukuna laughed, pushing the ends of your robe up to rest on your hips, and sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing each cheek with an equal amount of force. Damn, thought Sukuna, he had missed his favorite girls.

“Just because we haven’t done this in a while doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it. C’mon,” Sukuna slowly repositioned and lowered your hips and spread your legs apart, easing his dick through your cunt, “there’s nothing to be shy about. I know you’ve been missing this.”

It was true, you and Sukuna hadn’t fucked in three whole months, and your body was definitely starting to forget how he felt. The feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s length and size burned pleasurably, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan, which, in turn, just came out as a whimper instead.

Bracing yourself, you planted both palms on Sukuna’s broad shoulders as your lashes fluttered and your eyes shut tight. “So—nngh—So big, Sukuna. God.”

“Bet you’re real glad you decided to accept this role, after all, huh.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glared at Sukuna. “Will you just shut—oh!”

Just as you were about to yell at Sukuna, he decided it was the absolute perfect time to give a rough thrust; and you could’ve sworn you felt him in your womb. Throughout all the years you two had been together, you rarely had the opportunity to actually sit on his dick, and, now that you had the chance, you realized how full you felt in this position compared to how you two usually fucked. Sukuna knew you liked it rough, but this . . . was like nothing you had experienced before.

Sukuna—laughing—leaned down just enough to whisper in your ear, “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” you gritted your teeth. “Just move, Sukuna, goddamnit. What’s the holdup? Don’t tell me the late twenties are catching up to your libido.”

“Ha! in your dreams. I was just thinking of a new way we could have fun. Let’s see, just how long can you go without moving, hm?”

You gulped. “W-What? Why would you—?”

“Because it’s exciting, and spices up things. Don’t you think so?”

“. . .”

As the minutes idly passed by, you grew hot and bothered, and exasperated. You couldn’t believe Sukuna was making you do this. Nearly ninety days you two spent apart, and now that you had gotten back together, he had the audacity to leave you high and dry? In a final attempt at getting any satisfaction, you moved to roll your hips, desperate to create any amount of friction to free you from this everlasting state between Heaven and Hell; but two rough hands abruptly caught you in motion, and swiftly held you down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” tutted Sukuna, in a mocking tone. “Did I say you could move?”

Clearly frustrated, you let out a whine; but as your hands move to give punches against Sukuna’s chest, he catches your wrists in his hands with ease, an evil smile on his face, like a predator that had successfully cornered their prey and was just seconds away from latching their teeth in.

The belt was already pretty loose, so when one of the sleeves on your robe slipped down your shoulder, revealing your bare chest, no one was that surprised.

“Oh?” Sukuna began. “What have we here?” His scarlet eyes roamed up and down your figure, as his grip on your wrists turned almost deathly.

“You . . . bastard,” you—suddenly feeling a bit shy—tried to tug your wrists out of his grasps, in order to cover yourself up, but your attempts were futile. “Let go of me—hnngh, shit.”

Your back arched, body curving closer to Sukuna’s as his lips abruptly wrapped around one of your already hard nipples, catching you off guard. You had never felt so overwhelmed; the feeling of Sukuna sucking on a tit while his dick was buried inside of you—unmoving—was nearly enough to make you cum, despite the lack of movement that Sukuna allowed.

Bringing you out of your dazed state was the sudden ringing of your phone on the table beside the ashtray. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you softly pushed Sukuna off of you. “Just—Just ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Right. But where’s the fun in that, huh?”

“You don’t mean. . .”

“You know what I mean. Answer it, on speaker,” Sukuna pressed. His tone told you he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

With shaky fingers, you reached for the phone, answered the caller, and put it on speaker. “H-Hello? Katayama?”

Katayama was the name of one of your co-stars. Or, in other words, the blonde dude, which Sukuna kept mentioning earlier.

“Hey, you! It’s pretty late right now, perfect time for us to go out and get some drinks, y’know? I’m a bit bored, as of lately.”

You were about to respond with an apologetic declination to his offer, but Sukuna cut you off as he roughly lifted up your hips and abruptly slammed them back down, causing you to choke back a moan, and cover it up with a faux series of coughs. “I’m, ah, a little . . . busy,” you whimpered, wincing at the tight grip on your hips—which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning, “right now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Uhm, no—I mean, yes!” You let out another fake cough just to seal the deal. “Yup, just a little under the weather.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a string of moans and curses as Sukuna continued slamming your hips up and down onto his.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of an extra warm blanket, don’t be afraid to—”

“Hahh.” A breathy moan slipped past your lips, and you could practically see the surprised look that was probably on Katayama’s face right now.

“—call . . . me. Uhm, are you sure you’re sick? You sound like you’re in the middle of . . . something. Is everything okay—?”

“Yup! Yeah, everything is totally okay,” you forced out, with an enthusiastic tone. Gripping Sukuna’s shoulder with your free hand for leverage, you shut your eyes tight as you quickly ended the call. “I’m a little occupied at the moment, I’ll call you ba—I’m gonna go. Bye!”

As swiftly as you hung up the call, you threw your phone across the couch, and let out all of the noises you had been previously bottling up.

“I’m so c-close.” You mewled, now even more desperate than you were before.

“If you dare cum,” Sukuna began, his voice low, “I’ll stop.”

“Sukuna!” You whined, scratching at his back and leaving little crescent shaped marks from your nails on his tricep. “I need to—ahnn!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held onto Sukuna’s shoulders for dear life as he quickened his pace. Lifting your hips up with ease, and slamming them back down with equal force. Fucked out of your mind was not enough to describe your current state, as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your lipstick was smudged across your mouth.

Sukuna leaned down to whisper into your ear, never stopping his movements. “Bet the little blondie didn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

It was obvious that Sukuna wasn’t an insecure guy; I mean, he had no reason to be. He had nice muscles, a good body, overall, sharp features, tempting eyes, and tattoos for days. But, you had to admit, the spark of jealousy was definitely a good look on Sukuna, one that you wouldn’t mind seeing every once in a while, if it meant seeing him like . . . this.

“. . .S-Sukuna, we never—we never even fucked in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah? How long you been without cock, then, huh? Must be why you’ve been acting like such a bitch. I almost feel bad; all this time, my baby’s just been depraved.”

“. . .F-fuck you,” you shivered, body practically shaking with need.

“No need to state the obvious, sweetheart. Fuck, even your tears taste sweet,” Sukuna groaned, licking a stripe up your cheek. “It’s as if you were literally made for me to devour.”

“Please, please let me cum! I’m so—hnngh—close.”

“Yeah, no. C’mon, I know my girl can last just a little longer, can’t you?” Sukuna grinned, biting his lip as he admired your dazed state. He hadn’t been able to touch you in three months, ninety days, 504 hours. If anyone was going to get their fill, it was him.

—

“Oh!” Your stylist exclaimed, after walking into your dressing room and noticing you lying asleep on the couch. “You’re already here. And, Sukuna’s here, too. Wait. . . SUKUNA’S HERE, TOO!?”

[bpmiranda]

A Simple Favor |l. howlett| nsfw

A/N: based on a request, ex fwb!logan, angst, smut, 20+ f!reader, mutant!reader (unspecified abilities) unprotected sex, oral f! receiving, fingering

Complicated barely scratched the surface when describing what you and Logan were to each other. Relief, perhaps. A fun time, maybe. You definitely weren’t together, you knew that much. Logan wasn’t the type to settle down or commit, at least not to you apparently. As far as you were concerned, you were a placeholder for the one he really wanted; Jean. It didn’t upset you, didn’t make you think less of yourself. You weren’t exactly head over heels for him, so why should it matter that he only wanted to spend the nights with you? You were too busy during the day as it was to spend it pining over some guy like a schoolgirl, something you saw all too often as a teacher here at the school.

“Hey,” His voice brought your attention away from the papers you were grading at your desk and you smiled up at him. “Wanna hang out tonight?” He asked as he walked over to you, leaning onto your desk and smirking as he noticed how your thighs looked cross over each other in your tight pants.

“Yeah, my room?” You ask, looking down at the papers again as you continued your tasks. Logan lets out a small groan and you give him a surprised look as you lift your head again. “What?”

“Your bed’s so small, baby.” Logan grumbled and you couldn’t help your laugh. The sound made Logan’s chest swell and he chuckled too. “Come to my room, please?” He asked as he caressed your jaw gently.

Still grinning, you shake your head softly as you agree, “Sure, Logan. I’ll see you tonight.” You say and you’re surprised by the way he lifts your chin and kisses you. A gasp leaves your mouth as you realize your classroom door is open and you quickly push back on your chair so you roll away and separate yourself from his lips. “We agreed not in public.” You tell him in a stern tone and he only smirks.

“Please, you liked it.” He says with a wink, not failing to notice the smell of your arousal as he leaves and you sit flustered behind your desk.

You don’t love him, you remind yourself, sighing as you take your reading glasses off and rub your eyes gently with your fingertips.

It took a few months to realize that you did perhaps feel something deeper for him, something more than sexual attraction. The banter between you was always flirty and light hearted, but you were craving to hear something real from him. You wanted to know what was going through his mind the way Jean so easily could, without even having to pry inside his head. You know he offered her his feelings without a second thought.

“What’s wrong with what we’ve got now?” Logan asked, a little taken by your sudden need for more. You had told him in the beginning that this was okay, that this was what you wanted too, something good with no strings. Logan liked you, he truly did, but he just couldn’t seem to give up on the idea of him and Jean. A part of him needed to see it through.

“Logan, I can’t keep doing this if there’s no end goal. I just - I need to know where your head is at with us. Do you still want her? Do you want me? Cause you can’t have both.” You told him in a serious tone.

Logan was sitting against the headboard, looking at you with a solemn look and you wondered if tonight he would finally open up to you, tell you what he felt for you. “What do you want me to say?”

Or perhaps not.

“I want you to make a choice,” Your eyes are watering threateningly, but you refuse to cry over this, over him. “Because if this is all you can offer me, it’s just not enough anymore.” You said in a quiet voice as you stood by the door ready to go back to your room.

To Logan, you had already made your choice when you got up and got dressed. If you didn’t want this anymore, he wasn’t going to keep you here. What he offered wasn’t doing it for you anymore and that’s a choice you made, not him. “If that’s what you want.” He said with a small shrug and you let out sad sigh as he still refused to make a clear decision, always leaving it up to you.

“See you around, Logan.” You said before leaving his bedroom.

A Year Later…

It was awkward at first having to see Logan around the school, but you weren’t some disillusioned little girl. You knew that not all relationships would work out, especially not ones that weren’t exactly official to begin with. You and Logan didn’t have an established relationship, it was just pure fun and out of necessity because you’re still a woman at the end of the day, and he’s a man. It didn’t hurt when you started seeing him and Jean spending more time together. It made you feel more reassured in your decision to end things now that you saw his choice was clear. It made it easier to be friendly, to tease without the whole dance of ‘will we, won’t we?’ but you certainly missed the physical aspect of your odd relationship.

Unfortunately, no one could quite do for you what Logan did in the past. You went on a couple of dates with men, both mutant and non mutant, but they weren’t exactly up to par with what you needed. You wanted someone that could take control, someone that knew exactly what your body responded to, what got you going. Especially now with all of your work piling up on you, your students didn’t care about the material you were so passionate for, it felt like nothing was working out the way you wanted it.

Logan always made you feel better about the bullshit that clogged up your mind, but you doubted he wanted anything like that anymore. Your heeled shoes echoed softly against the wooden floor of the halls and you were painfully aware of how tightly wound and frustrated you felt, and you knew why. Perhaps that’s what you needed. To simply get him out of your system. What was the harm if he didn’t want you and you didn’t want him, it would be a simple collaboration. You knew you weren’t emotionally attracted him, he couldn’t seem to put the effort into being the man you needed in a partner, but he was always a great lay and better friend.

While deep in thought, you found yourself taking the all too familiar path to his bedroom and smiled to yourself as you saw that his door was wide open, as if waiting for you. Logan was moving around inside the room, shirtless and you leaned against his doorframe, biting your lip as you watched him. “Hey there,” He said as he spotted you, smirking as he pulled on a hoodie to sleep in and he looked over at you with a raised brow. His eyes looked over your body in your tight pencil skirt and white button up, your breasts giving those buttons something to do. “Late night?” He asked, walking towards you as you stood in his doorway. You only gave him a small nod. “You okay?” He asked with concern, as if he could read your mind. Logan would never tell you, but he could smell when something was wrong with you and right now you reeked of frustration and…arousal. His eyes searched yours as you shook your head slowly. “What’s wrong?” He asked, touching your arm gently. You placed a hand on his chest, fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie as you let out a sigh.

“I need a favor, and I don’t want you to bring it up ever again after tonight.” You said as you looked back up at him. This was a conversation he had all too eagerly been waiting for and Logan nodded as he watched you with a small smirk while you rolled your eyes at him. “Nevermind.” You said, turning to walk away, but he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you back to him. Your chest was pressed against his as he dipped his head down until his nose brushed against your own.

“Go on, pretty girl, ask me.” He insisted.

A pulse ached in your heart before you built up the courage to breathe out, “It’s a simple favor,” He nodded. “And you can say no.” You reassured him.

“I’m sure I won’t.” He said in a cocky manner and you wanted so badly to smack the arrogant look off his face, but you couldn’t help the bashful grin that stretched your lips as you two were teasing and flirting again. The familiar dance that preceded a mind-blowing, toe-curling night of events.

“I need you.” You whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Logan hated how things ended between the two of you. He hated that you weren’t mad at him because he deserved it, he acted like a jerk. His eyes searched yours and he recognized the look in them, they were veiled with want and he knew he wanted you too. “Is that right?” He asked as he brought you into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Your smile was somewhat triumphant as you sat on the end of his bed and he knelt in front of you, his hands caressing your knees and bare thighs while you held his face in your hands.

“Please.” You purred before kissing him gently.

Logan returned the kiss, eagerly wrapping an arm around your waist so he could press you to his body as he moved further up the bed. “You need me?” You moaned softly against his mouth, nodding as he hooked his fingers into the openings of your blouse and ripped the buttons, the distant clattering of them making you grin. “Fucking missed you.” He sighed as he kissed the tops of your breasts and you ran your fingers through his hair as you head rolled back in pleasure.

“Fuck me, Lo,” You pleaded, undoing the drawstring of his sweats while he groaned against your chest at your eagerness. “Like only you can, baby, please.”

Your words made him eager, riled him up, and he quickly tugged your skirt off with the help of you shimmying your hips out of it. Logan felt his mouth water at the sight of your lace underwear and he ripped it off without a second thought which made you whine with desire. “How do you need it, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk as he watched you tremble from the way he ran his fingers through your wet folds.

“Give me everything, Logan.”

His mouth latched onto your slit, his tongue probing in your core, feeling the gumminess of your walls and tasting your arousal running down his throat as he ate you out. Your head was spinning from how good it felt, how he still managed to know what got you going after a whole year. Logan’s hands were gripping tightly onto your thighs, keeping them spread apart for himself as he intended to ruin you. “Always tastes so good.” Your body arched up from the pleasure, his teeth nipped at your clit and your eyes stung with hot tears. Two thick fingers slid into you, curled into that spot that made you grip on the sheets while you called his name in ecstasy. “Like that, baby?” He asked and you nodded desperately as he continued finger fucking you while sucking and biting your sensitive bud.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” You gasped, your legs trembling with the force of your release, your juices coated his fingers and his lips and he only continued. “Oh, my god, Logan!” You groaned in approval as he extended your orgasm, mumbled incoherently into your cunt as you indulged in that euphoric feeling you’ve been missing. “Please, fuck me.” You begged, tugging on his biceps to bring him to hover over you. Logan removed his hoodie and sweats while you undid your bra clasp and discarded yourself of your ruined blouse. His eyes stayed attached to yours as he aimed his swollen head into you core and you whined as his thick length entered you slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he split you open.

“Shit,” Logan groaned as he sunk into you, he sat heavy inside your tight core as he pulsed and twitched. “Baby, I missed you.” He breathed out as he rested his forehead against yours, swallowing hard while he felt the way you squeezed him.

You weren’t going to say anything like that, you didn’t want to talk yourself into something that wouldn’t work again. You only moaned in response and kissed him softly as he started thrusting into you, hard and deep. “Just like that, baby.” You praised, one arm hooking around his shoulders and your hand resting over his chest as you made out while he drove himself deep into your pussy. “Oh, yes!” Your eyes watered as he caged you in with his arms on either side of you, grunting against your mouth as he angled his hips into yours with calculated movements.

“Let me feel it, Y/N,” Logan groaned as he was dangerously close to his release. “Wanna make you cum, pretty girl.” He murmured, pulling away from your lips to suck gently on that spot at that base of your neck that made your pussy clench and he only continued to force himself through your contracting walls. “Fuck.”

Your body always gave into him so easily and you felt your lower belly tighten with a pleasurable tension. “‘M so close.” You mewled, tugging on his hair as you rolled your hips against his own, desperately seeking out a release. Logan pinned you down to his bed by your hips and he fucked himself into you, growling as he watched your creamy sheen paint his cock as you orgasmed. The way he could never let you be in control turned you on more than anything. “Sh-shit, Logan!” You cried out as you writhed and trembled underneath him while he emptied his load inside you, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he swore underneath his breath.

The two of you laid quietly for a moment and you sighed shakily as he slowly slid out of you, he watched your face as you bit your lip and your eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure. “Is that what you needed?” He teased, caressing your belly softly and you rolled your eyes playfully while gently pushing on his chest. Logan chuckled and dipped his head down to pepper your neck with kisses while you caressed his broad back. “Stay with me.” He asked, or demanded, dazed from the way you felt around him, reminiscing in the long nights you two shared together in the past.

Your heart ached with guilt and you shook your head. “You know this was a casual thing, right?” You whispered suddenly. Logan pulled away from the crook of your neck and you gave him a sympathetic look. “I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea and I would appreciate it if we just kept this between us.” You said, sitting up as he got off the bed. You forced down the lump in your throat and sighed as you used his sheets to cover yourself. “We’re friends, Logan. We’ll always be good friends.”

Logan wasn’t going to argue, he knew he had messed up his chance with you and so he nodded as he handed you his hoodie and you gave him an appreciative smile. “Right, this was just a favor between friends.” He said with a shrug and you tried to ignore the hurt in his voice as you zipped on his hoodie which fell at your thighs. Logan helped you gather your ruined clothes and you gave him one last kiss as he walked you to his bedroom door.

“Thanks, Logan.” You smiled.

Logan returned your kind smile and he nodded. “Any time.” He winked, making your face warm as you shook your head lightly and grinned at him. Logan watched you go and he sighed to himself knowing he had had the chance to keep you. It was the classic, cliche case of right person, wrong time.

In an angsty mood today, probably because of the hurricane😅

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened @pinkanonwriting

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of Sirus' family but no talk of abuse, some talk of traumatic injury

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius hates the cold. It makes him look ill, his nose always runs, and he does not have a head made for hats. 

The walk to the rink yesterday was bad, with the chill and the early hour and the dark mood that seemed to permeate him like it infused his very blood, but you made it better by being yourself. He suspects you might have even been going out of your way to be sweeter than usual, given that you knew it was the anniversary of the day Sirius ran away from his family’s home. You’d tried to cheer him up. Still, yesterday was bad.

Today is worse. 

You’re silent as you stalk down the sidewalk, one boy on either side of you. You said hello to both him and Remus as you stepped out the door of your apartment, and then that was it. If it were Sirius it might make sense, but you always have an unnatural amount of energy in the mornings. Obviously you’re not speaking to him. And Sirius is still upset about the addition of the death spiral to your routine, so he’s not speaking to Remus. And Remus is hardly one to spark up conversation during an uncomfortable silence, so that just makes the three of you a very sullen, very silent procession to your early fucking morning practice. 

Except when you arrive, the rink is already bustling. You take one step inside before going back out the door, forcing both boys back outside with you.

“What the fuck?” Remus tries to peer inside. For once, Sirius agrees with him. “Who’s taken our slot?”

“I don’t know,” you say, but you’re still standing in front of the door like you’re barring their entry. “I’m going to go find out. You guys stay here.” 

“Why?” Sirius asks.

Even when you look at him you’re not really looking at him, your eyes distant. If you’re trying to make him feel like shit, it’s working. “Because I don’t need either of you going in there to bite someone’s head off. I’ve got it.” 

With that, you slip inside, not giving either of them a chance to argue. Sirius supposes he could go after you anyway, but you seem like you’d bite his head off, and he’s hurting enough from the cold without that extra ailment to contend with. He pulls out a cigarette instead. 

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Remus hums, but when Sirius looks over the other boy is lighting up too, a cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. When he sees Sirius struggling with his lighter, his fingers frozen and clumsy, he rolls his eyes and steps closer. 

Sirius goes still as Remus cups a hand around his cigarette, lithe fingers an inch from his mouth. The lighter rasps once, and the warmth next to Sirius’ face is a welcome sensation. When Remus steps away Sirius straightens his shoulders, expression carefully impassive as he inhales. He doesn’t thank him. 

“She’ll have your ass for doing it, too,” he says. 

Remus lifts a brow, blowing smoke out one corner of his mouth. “Why? I don’t need my lungs for anything.” 

Sirius shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. She thinks she should be in charge of the whole world.” 

A soft chuckle. Remus looks out to where the sun will rise in a few hours, the sky still a sweet blue. “Maybe she should be.” 

Sirius can’t help a little smile at that. He takes comfort only in knowing Remus doesn’t see. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

They lapse into a brief silence, easier and more contented than Sirius would have thought possible between the two of them. It breaks only when you come bustling back out the doors. 

“Okay, so apparently—” You stop, looking between them both. “Guys. Seriously?” 

“What?” Remus asks, but Sirius knows better, dropping his cigarette and stamping it out. 

Your gaze flicks over him, almost approving but still a far cry from friendly. He swears your mouth wants to smile at him, only you’re not letting it. 

“Those are so bad for you,” you tell Remus. 

He levels you with a dry look, the brave bastard. “What does it matter? I’m not an athlete.” 

You wince but don’t back down. “Athletes aren’t the only ones with reason to live past fifty.” You give him a hard look. It takes a while, but eventually Remus relents, dropping his cigarette as Sirius had. You nod, crouching to pick up both dog-ends and taking them to a bin. “Each one shortens your life by eleven minutes, you know.” 

Remus meets Sirius’ eyes, incredulous. “She comes prepared with statistics?” he asks in a hushed voice. 

Sirius nods. “Told you so.” 

You brush your hands off on your pants. “Okay. Anyway, hockey practice got moved up.” 

“You’re joking,” says Remus. 

“Nope. And, someone else got wind of it before us, because the slot they had at nine has already been filled. We can’t practice today.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “Bullshit. Why did hockey get moved?” 

You shrug, hugging your middle so your hands can burrow under your arms for warmth. “Management said they didn’t know, only that someone on the team asked for a different slot just for today. Seems like they were sweet-talked into it.” 

Your eyes meet Sirius’ for half a second, and he takes out his phone, frigid thumbs anger-typing away. 

“So that’s it then?” Remus asks. He looks like he’d really like his cigarette back. “We’ve just woken up before dawn and we’re not going to practice?” 

You sigh. “Seems that way. We can come back during open skate, but you know how that is.” 

Sirius scowls, and Remus’ expression twinges with distaste. “Yeah,” says Remus, “let’s wait until tomorrow.” 

You all break where you usually do, though hours ahead of schedule, Remus going off towards his place and Sirius walking you in the direction of yours. 

“Fancy a coffee?” he asks you, voice intentionally light. 

It has the expected effect. You bristle at his easy tone, keeping your eyes ahead. “No, thanks.” 

“Fair enough.” Sirius would really like something to warm his hands, but he suspects he needs to pick his battles with you today. “Fancy telling me when we’re going to be friends again?” 

You blow out a harsh breath. It crystalizes in front of you, and you walk right through. “Don’t be daft. We’re always friends. It’s because I’m your friend that I’m so pissed off with you.” 

He nods slowly. “I don’t follow.” 

You shake your head, anger quickening your pace so that Sirius is nearly jogging to keep up with you. “Why can’t you ever stay out of your own way?” you ask him. “I know yesterday was hard for you, but you can’t be an asshole to everyone just because you’re having a bad day.” 

“Hey now, that’s not fair.” Sirius knows joking probably isn’t the best tactic with you right now, but he can’t help himself. “I wasn’t an asshole to you, was I?” 

“That’s what I mean!” You stop so hard he nearly plows into you, but you don’t so much as flinch at the possibility. Your stare is fierce. “You can’t keep trying to scare him off. It’s not going to work, and we need him. Can’t you see how much better he’s made us already? I know you didn’t want a coach, but Remus is good for us. So you can stop being so difficult.” 

“I am not being difficult,” says Sirius, though he often is. You stick your tongue in your cheek, annoyed, and he fights the urge to take your face in his hands. He hates having you cross with him, but at least you’re talking. “And you don’t know what we would be like if he weren’t here. We might’ve been fine.” 

You sigh, looking suddenly tired. And so, so disappointed. “That’s not the point anyways. You know what you said to him yesterday was wrong.” 

Sirius feels a dull stab in his gut. He knows. He does. He knew it the second it came flying out of his mouth, and he has no idea why Remus doesn’t seem as livid with him as you are. Remus, with his even voice and his exasperated, knowing looks and that stern little wrinkle between his brows, who seems able to wind Sirius up better than anyone else. A match to his short fuse. 

“How would you feel?” you ask. Some of the anger has fallen away from your voice, leaving it soft and sad. “What if we went to competition in a few weeks, and you injured yourself so that you knew you could never skate again. And then someone used it to mock you.” 

“He’s risking us doing that,” Sirius says, stubbornly, though he can hear the plea in his own voice, “by asking us to change the routine.” 

“He’s trying to help us,” you reply firmly. But your shoulders droop, and you sigh. “I know you feel bad about it. I’m done being mad at you now. It’s exhausting.” 

Sirius feels too hollowed out to revel much in the victory, but your arm linking through his does help some. “Some could say that was my plan all along,” he jokes weakly. 

You make a halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. “Good thing I know better. If your hands are in danger of falling off, you could stop at mine, make yourself a coffee.” 

“When I asked you for coffee five minutes ago you said no.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t done punishing you yet.” 

[hongcherry]

pretty please (just this once) || c.sc

Seungcheol comes to visit you while you're working on a photo shoot; however, he ends up staying after you ask him for a favor.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Fluff, slice of life; Non-idol au, Pretty Please couple 🍒 Warnings: Suggestive content and allusions to sexual activities 🍒 Word Count: 4.1k 🍒 Timeline: This takes place before "love me," but you don't need to read that prior to this. 🍒 Author’s Note: Happy (almost) weekend! As planned, here's another installment of the Pretty Please universe ♥️ I'm excited to publish the next one! Spoiler: It's a two-parter 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

“He did what?”

Your hands still and eyes narrow at Yumi, irritation quickly growing upon hearing the bad news.

“Apparently, he accidentally double-booked himself,” Yumi explains as calmly as she can.

Your eyes roll before you can stop them, hands dropping from the garnet you were working on.

Prior to booking your model, you had triple-checked both your schedules to ensure they aligned. Now, hearing that he canceled an hour before the shoot, has steam shooting out your ears.

Sure, you can reschedule, but you have already rented the space and have a deadline to meet for the photos. Additionally, you can no longer trust your old model to show up anymore.

“Of course he did,” you scoff and grab your phone. You’re not sure what you are going to do with it, but you grab it on instinct. Maybe subconsciously you think you can call in another model, but you doubt it due to the short time frame.

Sensing your thoughts, Yumi says, “Maybe there’s still someone available.”

Huffing, you throw your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Fine. Let’s try,” you say and unlock your phone to begin trying to get another model.

Not a second later, the door to the dressing room opens.

“Hey, ba—What’s wrong?”

Seungcheol slows his steps when he sees the tell-tale sign of distress on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder, voice gentler but still on edge.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replies, lifting up a bag of what you suspect are yummy goodies.

Your heart does a little flip despite you wanting it to. You had never considered yourself a hopeless romantic, but the small gesture tugs on your emotions.

“Thanks, it’s just—” You begin to say but a poke on your arm stops you. You glance at Yumi, whose eyes are flicking between you and Seungcheol. You can tell there’s an idea brewing in her head.

“What about him?” she whispers, but there’s no other sound in the room to cover her voice.

“What about him?” you repeat.

“He can be our solution!”

Your eyes widen slightly in realization, then you’re shaking your head.

“He doesn’t have experience,” you explain.

Yumi frowns. “At this point, we just need a good face. And look at him,” she pauses to gesture to Seungcheol. He stands with his head slightly cocked in confusion.

“He’s perfect.”

Your lips purse as you take in your boyfriend. There’s no doubt that he’s handsome, and his build is impressive… But what would your boss say if she sees someone unknown in the fashion world in the photos? She has a policy about not using rookies in her shoots. Though at the same time, what would she say if you didn’t get anyone at all?

You’re at an odds.

“What’s going on, Cherry?” Seungcheol questions.

You sigh for what seems like the tenth time.

“Our model quit on us last minute,” you disclose.

“You don’t have a backup?”

His question brings forth more irritation; however, that stems from self-anger than anger directed at him. You should’ve known better.

“Unfortunately, not, but,” Yumi trails off and she glances at you for approval.

It’s not like Seungcheol doesn’t have the looks, but he’s never done this before and what if he feels uncomfortable? Though, your hands are tied and you’ve already lost time.

You rub your lips together before finishing Yumi’s sentence.

“Since you’re here, would you mind stepping in?”

Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow up.

“You want me to be your model?” he asks in disbelief.

“You have the looks,” you shrug, trying to hide the smile that wants to form when he averts his gaze shyly.

“I’m not sure,” he fades off.

“Please? Just this once? We’ll guide you,” you offer some reassurance.

Seungcheol glances at the door as if imagining himself at the setup out there. 

PDA isn’t something you favor, but since it’s only you three in the room, you decide to test your luck. You step forward and guide his face back to yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently.

“You’d really be helping me out, babe,” you plead.

He still looks unsure. 

You give him a peck on the lips. “Please?”

Seungcheol’s free hand squeezes your waist.

“Fine. What do I need to do?” He sighs.

You grin and give him another kiss. His hand moves to your lower back to pull you closer. Not wanting the kiss to last too long, you pull away after three seconds.

You straighten your clothes as if wiping away your embarrassment.

Yumi watches with a mix of surprise and delight. You’re unsure of their origins, but you get the hint it’s from seeing this new side of you.

You met Yumi on your first day of work a few months ago. She’s interning at the company, learning from fellow fashion designers and event coordinators. You don’t always work with her on projects, but she was assigned to this one with you as the lead.

You weren’t sure what to think of Yumi in the beginning; however, you’ve learned to like her. She is hard-working and passionate—two things you can relate to.

After clearing your throat, you instruct, “Tell the photographer to be ready in thirty.”

Yumi lingers in the room, eyes moving between you and Seungcheol, then she leaves.

You let out a breath when the door closes.

Yumi was aware you had a partner, but she’s never seen or met Seungcheol. You guess she doesn’t need an introduction now.

“I’ll take that,” you say and grab the bag from Seungcheol’s hands. You take a peek inside and see a bowl of noodles and veggies. Your tummy growls.

“When was the last time you ate?” Seungcheol wonders.

You set the bag down and move to the clothes rack.

“It’s been a while,” you answer vaguely. “Take off your clothes.”

“Cherry, you can’t starve yours—”

“I’m not. I’ll eat soon,” you interrupt.

When you see Seungcheol studying you rather than stripping in your peripheral, you turn to him with a frown.

“Seungch—”

“I know, I need to change, but your health is important,” he scolds lightly.

“So is this photoshoot,” you reply. You take off a few pieces from the rack and transfer it to an empty one.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab your arm.

“Baby,” he calls for your attention.

You look at him.

“At least eat a little while I change,” he suggests.

“I need to get hair and makeup—”

Seungcheol leans in and shuts you up with a kiss.

Your body wants to melt into his touch, but you force yourself to stay alert. Now’s not the time.

You gently push his chest to pull away.

“Eat,” he says.

Sighing, you relent with a nod. Just the smell of the dish is making your mouth water. You know he’s right. 

You gesture to the clothes and Seungcheol nods in understanding.

Once he starts changing, you text Yumi to inform her of your outfit choice and for the hair and makeup crew to get ready. Then, you sit on the couch and open the noodle meal Seungcheol brought.

Your boyfriend, now without his shirt, smiles at you—pleased to see you doing as he said.

Your gaze meets his, and your heart skips a beat. He looks too good shirtless. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen it before; it still has an effect on you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your reaction and removes his pants.

“Lucky you, Cherry. You get lunch and a show,” he teases.

You roll your eyes in lieu of showing you flustered.

“Change faster,” you huff after you swallow a bite.

Seungcheol grins bigger, taking the pants on the rack and stepping into one leg.

“Afraid of what’ll happen if I stay naked for too long?” he taunts.

“You’re not naked,” you mumble, eating again.

“Bet you wish I was though.” He smirks.

You send him a not-so-deadly glare. 

Unaffected by your stare, he chuckles and finishes changing. Luckily, the hair and makeup people come in a minute after he fastens the last button on his shirt.

The outfit is a plain, all-black trousers and suit jacket, but Seungcheol fits the outfit perfectly. He suits formal wear extremely well.

The hair stylist gives him a wet-haired look and the makeup artist keeps it simple.

You hurry and finish half your food so you can check on the crew in the main studio. Thankfully, they’ve finished getting ready without any hiccups.

The door to the dressing room opens and Seungcheol comes to stop beside you. He may feel out of place, but he doesn’t look like it. You stare at him a little too long before adjusting the outfit. Though, there’s not much to adjust. You’re just worrying. 

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Ah, not really,” he answers hesitantly, “but if it helps you, then I’ll be fine.”

Three words sit on your tongue, but you can’t find the courage to say them. It’s not that you don’t believe them, but there are people in hearing range, and saying it has always felt awkward to you.

Seungcheol gives you a reassuring smile. You know he wants to kiss you by the way he keeps glancing at your lips, but you appreciate that he respects your boundaries. Especially while you’re at work.

The photographer guides him to sit on the leather armchair. Seungcheol does so stiffly.

“Try to relax and look into the lens,” they instruct. “Pretend you’re a wealthy, overly confident CEO.”

Seungcheol nods and leans against the armrest. It looks almost unnatural.

Even though there’s music playing, the sounds of the camera feel extra loud. You peer at the monitor and watch as the pictures begin to appear.

The photographer moves to different angles. Seungcheol shifts a bit as he follows the camera.

After a few more shots, the photographer tilts their head.

“Let’s try resting your chin on your hand,” they say.

Seungcheol follows, but there’s still something off. You can tell the photographer thinks so too from their slightly furrowed brows and downturned lips.

Seungcheol’s not oblivious to everyone’s reaction. He becomes more rigid and mimics everyone’s small frown.

You rub your lips together in thought. Maybe Seungcheol really wasn’t the best choice. He has the looks, but the photos are not coming across well.

“Let’s take five,” you call out, walking toward the setup and stopping at the edge of the backdrop.

“Follow me,” you tell Seungcheol and turn on your heel. You hear Seungcheol excuse himself as he stands from his chair.

You guide him back to the dressing room and find it empty.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says as soon as he shuts the door. “I’m trying, but it’s weird having everyone stare at me.”

You lean against the built-in vanity counter with your hands resting on it. You stare long enough without a word for Seungcheol to apologize again.

You know you can’t blame him. It’s uncomfortable to try something new in front of strangers. However, it’s too late to try to get a model. Either you deal with the unsatisfactory photos or you try to knock some confidence in Seungcheol. You go for the latter.

“Don’t apologize,” you sigh and walk to him. “I’ll ask them to leave.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles.

You raise your hands to his shoulders and begin massaging the knots out. His shoulders slowly begin to deflate. 

“Try to focus on something besides the camera,” you suggest.

His frown deepens. “That’s hard to do when I’m supposed to look at it.”

You take a step closer, gaze lingering on the deep v the suit jacket makes.

“Then maybe imagine it’s me,” you reply, a hand trailing down. Your fingertips graze his exposed chest.

“You?” he asks with an airy voice.

“Yeah,” you smile and trace shapes on his skin lightly. Seungcheol’s pupils begin to dilate.

“What about you?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker to his. There’s mischief in them before you speak that causes Seungcheol to hold his breath.

“Use your imagination,” you tease.

As you’re about to pull away, Seungcheol grabs your waist and flushes your body against his. His mouth captures yours, fingers slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin.

The simple touch makes your heart thump faster against your ribcage and your knees feel weak. 

“Cheol,” you mumble against his lips, grabbing his hands. He hums and stays pressed against you.

You try to tear his hands off you, but he persists. Granted, you didn’t try too hard.

“I miss you,” he says in the kiss.

You know you shouldn’t, but you lax in his arms. Despite seeing him nearly every night, you haven’t spent much time with him. It’s a busy season for you both at work and by the time you get home, both of you want to sleep.

You’ve missed his kisses and attention more than you realize.

A knock at the door jerks you away.

“Just wanted to let you know everyone’s back,” Yumi says from the other side of the door.

You clear your throat and step from Seungcheol who’s tempting you by just standing near.

“Thanks,” you reply. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay,” Yumi says.

You listen to her steps fade before looking at Seungcheol. He’s already straightened out his clothes.

“You good?” you ask.

“No, I could really use more alone time.”

You sigh. “Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I’m ready.”

You hum, turning to leave but stop with your hand hovering over the handle.

“Something wrong, Cherry?” Seungcheol asks behind you.

You bite your lip and spin around. You quickly lean in and give him another kiss.

“For luck,” you explain, then exit the room before he can do anything and before you cave into his touches. 

Seungcheol follows shortly after, standing a little taller and looking less awkward.

You watch as the photographer guides Seungcheol back into the chair.

“Okay, just think about the CEO thing,” they remind.

Seungcheol nods and rolls his shoulders. He’s a little stiff again at first, but after a few pictures, he loosens up.

At the start, you watch the monitor as the pictures appear, but your eyes end up gravitating toward the live shoot.

Seungcheol catches your gaze. Something stirs in your belly, and you watch as he shifts to sit lower in the chair and spreads his legs. He leans his head back slightly, keeping his eyes on yours. He really could pass as a well-known CEO. He has the looks, the aura, and the work ethic. For the briefest moments, you wonder how successful Seungcheol will be in the future.

“Oh, I love that! Let’s try moving lower, put a leg out,” the photographer instructs.

Seungcheol keeps his expression the same but does as told. He hangs one arm off the side of the chair while the other stays beside him.

“That’s great! Now, eyes on the camera,” they say.

Seungcheol tears his eyes from you to the lens. You release a silent breath you didn't know you were holding.

You can’t help your eyes trailing down his body slouched on the chair.

Seungcheol shifts once more to rest a hand on the top of his thigh. The subtle change makes your mind race with thoughts of being kneeled between his legs. You curse mentally, changing weight to your other hip and looking at the monitor again.

Though that doesn’t help.

Since he’s looking at the camera, his stare bores into yours through the screen. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d done this before.

“He looks good,” Yumi whispers beside you.

You turn to her, unable to hide the small pang of jealousy that bursts in your chest.

Yumi laughs and shakes her hands in the air.

“Not like that,” she says, a hint of humor to her tone. “I mean, he looks good enough to make the boss woman happy.”

“Ah. Right,” you mumble.

She smiles and nudges your shoulder, eyes on Seungcheol still posing. You move your gaze to him as well.

He’s sat up now, legs still spread but looking down at the camera. You push away the memories of seeing him in a similar position in private. 

“Though I can’t say you aren’t lucky,” Yumi adds. “He sure is handsome.”

“Yeah. He is,” you murmur. For the first time, you scan the audience, noticing how many of the people watch on with interest. 

“I think we have enough of these,” the photographer announces and turns to you.

Seungcheol stands and follows the photographer toward you.

“Great,” you say, snapping out of your thoughts and reining in your lurking jealousy. “We have enough time for a quick wardrobe change and a few more pictures.”

“Sounds good,” the photographer says.

“Come,” you instruct Seungcheol.

You get him changed and his makeup adjusted quickly. You had a few more outfit options, but with the fiasco earlier, you’ve run out of time to try them all.

You lead Seungcheol back to the set, not having much time to take a break.

You watch from the sidelines again as the photographer guides Seungcheol into different poses and expressions.

Seungcheol has gone into character, following the photographer’s instructions with as much ease as he can for an amateur. Which, to be fair, seems to be above average. You’re surprised to see him doing so well.

By the time they’re done, you only have twenty minutes left of your rented space.

The photographer gives you a flash drive with the photos and let’s you know you have a week to pick your favorite ones so they can edit them. Normally, the photographer would keep the photos and select the best ones themselves, but since this photographer works within the same company, things are a little different.

The hair and makeup team have already cleared out their stuff from the dressing room when you walk in with Seungcheol.

You sit on the couch and grab your laptop, inserting the USB drive into the slot and opening the photos.

“These turned out really good, Cheol,” you praise enthusiastically as you swipe through the photos.

Seungcheol glances up from unbuttoning his shirt. “I guess your advice worked then.”

“What advice?” you ask, distracted with studying the images.

You don’t hear Seungcheol move closer until he grabs the laptop and sets it aside. You look at him confused.

“You said to imagine the camera was you,” he replied.

Your words flood back into your brain. “O-Oh.”

He chuckles.

“I’m glad it worked,” you say, ignoring the pounding of your heart.

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna know what I was thinking about?”

“You already said me,” you reply hesitantly.

Seungcheol slowly rests his hands on the back of the couch, caging you in. You stare up at him—excited and nervous for his answer.

“You, in that sheer cherry lingerie… wearing that necklace I gave you on our first month anniversary,” he says lowly, deep voice luring you in.

Your mind races with the memory of showing him that for the first time. Warmth floods your chest and goes south recalling how many times you had cum that night. You hadn’t expected him to get so worked up at the sight, but you didn’t complain.

“You were a great inspiration,” he whispers and leans down closer. His lips hover over yours, a smirk on them.

“Kiss me like you want to,” he says.

You curse at him silently. It’s not that you don’t want to, but knowing he knows how badly you want it, makes you stay still.

“I think you want it more,” you reply.

He chuckles and slowly retracts himself. He shrugs, taking off his shirt and placing it on a hanger.

“Where should this go?” he asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and point to the rack to the left.

He eyes you for a moment longer before setting the hanger on the rack. You know he’s amused by your loss of words.

When he starts unbuttoning his pants, you shoot up from the couch.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay out there,” you announce and then swiftly walk toward the door.

“Hey, now,” Seungcheol calls out, grabbing your wrist and gently spinning you into his arms. His hands rest on your hips while yours flatten against his bare, muscular chest.

“You can’t leave me, pretty girl,” he says.

“I—I think you can get dressed without me,” you reply, trying to escape his hold.

“I don’t know,” he hums. He trails his hands up your body and grabs your hands. He pushes them down to the top of his already unbuttoned pants.

“Lend me a hand?” he questions darkly.

“We can’t do anything,” you warn, worried someone will come in.

“I know,” he says with a subtle frown, “but I just… wanna be close to you for a bit.”

Your chest clutches knowing he’s feeling the same about your busy schedules. You’re surprised he’s been here for so long.

“You’re not busy?” you ask, starting to carefully push his pants down his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, making you yearn for more.

“I had some meetings get canceled,” he explains and watches you lean down slightly to get the rest of the pants off. He steps out of them.

You pick them up and start hanging them when Seungcheol wraps his arms around you from behind. You suck in a breath when you feel his growing bulge against you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your neck.

You place the hanger on the rack and turn in his arms.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, finally giving in to the kiss you wanted earlier.

Seungcheol holds you tighter, making you feel him more and causing arousal to shoot downward. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him fill you. You whimper into the kiss accidentally at the mere thought.

“Fuck, you’re making this hard,” he groans while pulling away.

You giggle, dazed by his kiss. “I know.”

He chuckles and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mutters.

You lean in to peck his lips again.

“I know,” you repeat. “You’re making this hard too.”

And how could he not when he’s kissing you heavenly and pressing up against you with his near-naked body—one that’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Let’s go on a date this weekend,” he suggests, hands rubbing your sides.

“Really?” you ask. You know people go on dates on the whim—you don’t need a reason—yet the idea of one randomly still surprises you.

“Yeah. Wanna spend time with you,” he says and kisses you shortly. “Wanna see you get all dolled up just for me.”

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist. You press your cheek against his naked chest, basking in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” you reply.

“I knew you would,” he says and hugs you tightly. He gives your head a tender kiss, letting the moment run its course.

Although you’re still weary about being so intimate in a public setting, you can’t help but get lost in the desire to feel Seungcheol. To just have him here with you.

“I guess I better get dressed,” he says after a while.

You linger for just a moment, then slowly release him. You feel cold without his heated body against yours.

“You working late tonight?” he asks while changing back into his work suit.

You begin packing the clothes in garment bags.

“Hopefully not. Just my normal hours,” you answer. “And you?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighs.

You hide your frown and zip up the bags.

“How late?” you wonder, hanging the bags from your arms and grabbing your purse.

“Not too late this time. Maybe an hour or two?” he replies.

You nod.

Seungcheol, now dressed, takes the garment bags from your arm despite your protests.

“I’ll help you load your car, then I’ll get back,” he informs.

Nodding once more, you lead him out. There’s only three people lingering around, cleaning the area. You bid them goodbye and guide Seungcheol to your car. After everything is packed, Seungcheol hovers by your side.

“I hope your boss is happy with the photos,” he says.

“She better be,” you reply. “We had a handsome man modeling.”

He grins. “Oh, yeah? You got a crush on ‘em now?���

“A big one,” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles and kisses your cheek. He seems to want to say something but hesitates.

“I’ll see you at home. Drive safe,” he finally says.

“You too, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opens your car door and makes sure you’re in safely before shutting it. He stays on the sidewalk to watch you depart. In your rearview mirror, you see him turn and head toward his car.

You wish he wasn’t walking in the other direction and hope the day goes by fast. You just want to be in his arms again.

A/N: How could I not take the opportunity to write about Seungcheol modeling with this couple??? Do you guys think this will be the last time PrettyPlease!Seungcheol does this for Cherry? 🫣

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[fandomfablesunleashed]

What are we?

Law x reader (she/her)

English is not my first language

Once again, it was supposed to be something short, but apparently, that's not possible for me.

Just Law being terrible with feelings.

---------------------------------------------------------

She takes a deep breath, her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest, each thud echoing in her ears. This could go either way, and she is aware of that. But she has to ask. She needs to know.

“What… what are we?” she asks, her voice a fragile tremor, barely holding back the storm of emotions beneath. Vulnerability laces her words, hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread ready to snap. “I mean… I know we have this connection, this bond, but… what does it make us?”

Her gaze flickers up to meet his, searching for anything that might give her a clue to what he’s thinking. Law’s golden eyes pierce through her, sharp yet enigmatic. He watches her intently, but there’s a careful restraint in his movements, the same kind of precision he brings to the operating table.

His arms rest on the desk in front of him, unmoving, though his fingers twitch restlessly, as if they’re craving something solid to hold on to—perhaps her, perhaps the truth. The room, typically filled with the quiet hum of the submarine's engines and the familiar scratching of Law’s pen across paperwork, now feels eerily hollow, as though the tension between them has consumed every sound.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, the practiced mask of a surgeon that he wears so effortlessly, Law is internally unraveling. A relationship—anything resembling emotional vulnerability—wasn’t a thing he had even remotely prepared for. Hell, he hadn't allowed himself to feel like this in years, hadn’t been with a woman in longer than he cared to admit. He had locked those parts of himself away, buried them deep, refusing to ever dig them up.

However, the mere thought of rejecting her evoked a profound sense of regret within him. Law mentally cursed himself for being affected like this but couldn't help himself. He cares… More than he’s willing to admit.

His mind races, frantic thoughts clashing, tripping over each other as they fight for dominance. A thousand responses fill his head, most of them irrational, some outright absurd.

Could he tell her?

The words—the ones he'd never even let himself whisper, let alone speak aloud.

I care about you.

The thought flashes across his mind like a lightning bolt, and immediately he recoils. How could he possibly say that? It was foolish, reckless, even. People come and go—he knows this better than anyone.

His heart has grown a thick, unyielding shell, a defense mechanism carefully cultivated to protect him from loss and pain. But this woman, this stubborn, damn persistent woman, had somehow broken through his defenses. She’d slipped under his guard, worked her way past his walls, and settled into a part of him that he hadn’t even realized was still there—his heart.

The realization terrifies him.

And yet, there’s an undeniable pull that excites him, too. He’s torn, teetering on the edge of two opposing desires—one urging him to push her away, to protect himself, to keep her at arm’s length, safe from the jagged edges of his soul. The other is stronger, louder. He wants her close; he wants her warmth against him; her laughter filling the spaces of his life; her touch soothing the scars he keeps hidden from the world.

He wants her.

He wanted to hold her close, touch her skin, kiss her, make her laugh, make her moan, and make her his.

He wanted to open up to her. To tell her stories from his past, share his fears, his dreams, and the most intimate parts of his soul.

He wanted to be vulnerable.

But even as he yearns for this, something inside him resists. The thought of being that vulnerable, that exposed, sends a cold shiver down his spine. It feels foreign. Unnatural.

No.

Scratch that.

It is foreign.

For years, Law had trained himself to shut down, to lock away his emotions and never let them see the light of day. Acting on feelings was dangerous—he’d learned that lesson the hard way. The path of emotional attachment only led to pain.

Right?

Yet, the way she looks at him now, her eyes wide and hopeful, her lips parted in anticipation of his answer, makes his heart twist painfully. She’s waiting.

Law clenches his jaw so tightly that it seems like his teeth might crack. The tendons in his neck stand out like cords, tense and strained, as if his body is locked in a battle with itself. He can sense himself caving, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him, threatening to break through the surface.

The silence in the room felt crushing, suffocating, like the very atmosphere was pressing downward upon him. He felt both excitement and dread rising in his chest. Law knew he had to speak.

He had to answer her.

Law swallows hard, the lump in his throat tingling like a jagged stone lodged deep in his chest. He opens his mouth, but the words are thick and unsteady. “I… I don't know”.

Damn it. That was not a good start.

His eyes flick to hers, searching her expression for any sign of her reaction to his reply. He saw her eyes flash in the light, a glimmer of…what was it? Disappointment?

Law cursed himself internally. This was not going well. What the hell was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer her question? What did he want them to be?

His grip on the edge of the desk tightens to the point where his knuckles are turning white. Law could feel a frustrated anger bubbling up inside him, mostly at himself. For once, he was at a complete loss of how to act, what to say, and what to do. And that was something that deeply disturbed him.

He felt like a fool. A complete and total fool.

Here he was, this brilliant doctor, an established captain of a fearsome and infamous crew. He could perform delicate, life-saving operations without breaking a sweat. He could lead his crew into battle and outmaneuver enemies who underestimated him.

Yet, all he could do was just sit there, staring at this woman like a dumbass, unable to manage more than a few short sentences.

Inside, Law was screaming, a howl of frustration that echoed in the caverns of his mind. Damn it all! He was never good at this—talking, sharing emotions, laying himself bare for someone else to see. His emotions were like tools, to be kept under tight control, used only when necessary.

But this was different. This was important.

His eyes flick back to her, seeing the shift in her expression, the growing worry, and the faint edge of disappointment pulling at the corners of her lips. The sight of it was like a blade twisting in his chest—sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t want to see that look on her face. He wanted to erase it, to make it vanish, replaced by something else—something softer. A smile. Her smile.

His throat feels impossibly dry, like every word he might say would crumble to dust before it could leave his lips. He has never felt so exposed, not like this, not with his heart laid bare and his defenses crumbling in front of someone else.

Sure, he’d been with women before. But those moments were fleeting, shallow, serving only to dull the edge of his stress, to fill the void of a momentary need. They meant nothing.

This was different. She was different.

He wanted more from her. So much more.

He wanted her trust—her unguarded, unbroken trust. He wanted her time, her laughter, her attention. He wanted her body pressed against his, yes, but not just that. He wanted her.

He wanted her love.

The last word slams into him like a physical blow, knocking the wind from his lungs. Love.

It’s the word he had thrown away long ago, buried so deep in the darkest corners of his soul that he’d convinced himself it no longer existed. It was a word he had told himself he would never trust or let near his heart.

And yet—there it was.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

He loves her.

And the fear of it—of what that meant—gripped him like ice in his veins, numbing him, paralyzing him. His hands shake slightly, the tremor small but betraying the storm of emotions raging beneath his surface. He wants to run, to bolt, to push her away, to deny it all and bury that damned word so deep inside him that it never sees the light of day again.

But he can’t.

Not anymore.

Because she had done something no one else had managed to do. She had stumbled into his life, into his guarded heart, and had somehow found a way to stay there. And now, she wasn’t just in his heart—she was in his thoughts, his very bones.

He didn’t know when it had happened. Maybe it was the first time she smiled at him, that soft, genuine smile that had disarmed him in a way he couldn’t understand. Or perhaps it was the moment their eyes first locked, that indescribable sensation stirring within him as they connected. Maybe it was the way her hand brushed his for the first time, and he hadn’t been able to forget the feeling since.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that someone like her—someone so beautiful, inside and out—had made the effort to understand him, to truly see him for who he was beneath all the layers of cold distance.

He just knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn’t deny it any longer.

He loved her.

“Come here”. Law’s voice was a quiet rumble, like thunder rolling low across the horizon, cutting through the thick silence of the room. His eyes, that familiar golden gaze, held her captive. The intensity in them was different tonight. The gold seemed to glow, flickering like embers in a fire, beckoning her across the small but seemingly vast distance between them.

Her feet moved before she could even process it, carrying her across the room with a quiet, almost tentative grace. The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the sound of her soft footfalls. She didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, her body responding to the call in his voice, the command in his gaze.

When she reached him, Law hadn’t moved. He remained where he sat, behind his desk, his eyes never leaving her. He watched her intently, as though studying her every movement, every breath, every shift of emotion that flickered across her face.

“Sit”.

He didn't know where this boldness was suddenly coming from, but he went with it. The word was quiet, but it carried the same weight as before—firm, unwavering. He gestured to his lap, his fingers barely moving, but the meaning was clear.

Without a word, without a second thought, she moved. She turned and lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him. The moment her weight settled, Law’s hands were on her, sliding up to her waist, pulling her close until there was no space left between them.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds in the room were the distant, low hum of the submarine’s systems and the uneven rhythm of their breathing. His chest rose and fell beneath her, each breath deep and slow, while hers came in short, rapid bursts.

Law kept his eyes on her, those burning golden eyes, as though he were searching her face for something—some sign, some answer. Her face was so close to his, mere inches separating them. He could feel the warmth of her breath, soft against his skin, and could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of her, earthy and sweet, like herbs and honey.

Her face was so close, mere inches from his. He could smell the faint scent of her skin, like a subtle mix of herbs and honey, and experience the warmth of her body when it touched his. His gaze traveled down to her lips, taking in the full, pink shape of them. He'd felt them before, tasted them even.

The memory of that first kiss had replayed over and over in his head, in his dreams. The taste of her had been addicting, leaving him craving more.

It played in his mind over and over, unbidden, each time leaving him craving more. He’d told himself it was nothing, just a physical need, a fleeting indulgence that he could easily forget. Now he knew how wrong he was. As he sat there, holding her in his lap, staring at her lips, he realized he'd never stopped craving her.

He'd never stopped wanting more.

She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her breath coming in short, shallow pants. And in those eyes, he saw her question—What are we? It was there, unspoken, lingering in the space between them.

He knew he had to answer her, he knew he had to say something. He was Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, a brilliant surgeon, a man feared and respected across the seas. Yet here, now, with her in his lap, he felt completely out of his depth. Words failed him, his thoughts a tangled mess, his heart racing like a storm inside his chest.

Damn it!

Frustration flared within him, intertwining with a deep sense of vulnerability that left Law feeling unbalanced—unsteady, almost weak. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip, his grip tightening to the point of near pain. Yet, instead of recoiling, she leaned in closer, resting her forehead gently against his.

Her touch was a balm to his burning skin, soothing the turmoil raging inside him. The warmth of her body next to his and the soft, warm breaths she exhaled created a heady mix of comfort and desire. She smelled so good, looked so pretty.

His pulse hammered in his chest, loud and thunderous in his ears. He felt it in his throat, felt it pulsating in his head, and the urge to pull her closer battled with the instinct to push her away.

Say something, Law. Say anything!

His mind raced, tangled in a web of conflicting emotions, while his throat felt impossibly dry. He knew what he should say. I care about you. I trust you. I want you. But the words refused to leave his mouth. He could feel his jaw clenching, his fingers twitching against her hip in an anxious rhythm.

He opened his mouth, desperation clawing at him, but once again, nothing came out. Damn it, he thought, frustration mounting. Why was it so difficult to speak? Each passing second stretched painfully, and in the silence, he noticed a flicker of something in her eyes—something unsettling.

Her forehead remained pressed against his, her breath coming in short bursts that warmed his skin, but the look in her eyes shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable—Resignation? No, not that… disappointment?

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. No, dammit to hell, he thought. That wasn't the look he wanted to see on her face. He needed to change that. Law’s fingers dug deeper into her hip, his grip nearly bruising.

“No,” he growled, his voice a low rumble filled with urgency. “That’s not what you should look like”.

Her eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of confusion washing over her features. “You’re not supposed to look like that,” he repeated, his tone almost desperate, his frustration spilling over into his words.

“You're too beautiful to look so sad”.

She was stunned by his statement, the intensity in his eyes overwhelming. For a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind struggling to catch up with the weight of his declaration. But slowly, the meaning sank in.

She saw the turmoil of emotions flickering in his golden eyes—the tension in his jaw, the raw strength in his grip on her hip. Law was an individual who tended to refrain from expressing his emotions, however, at this particular moment, he was confronting a deep-seated struggle to articulate his thoughts.

She reached up with a hand, her fingers delicately brushing against his skin, trailing lightly along the side of his jaw. The touch was so gentle, so tentative, that Law almost flinched. But instead of retreating, he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as if savoring the sensation.

His gaze flickered down to her lips, taking in their soft, full shape. The memory of their brief kiss surged to the forefront of his mind, the taste of her lingering like a bittersweet reminder of something he couldn’t quite grasp. It had been too short, too fleeting, and he had tried desperately to forget it.

He wanted that taste again.

No, he needed it.

Slowly, Law tilted his head, his face moving closer to hers. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, a magnetic pull drawing him in. His breath ghosted over her skin, warm and unsteady. She knew what he was going to do, but she stopped him by gently pressing his chest.

“What are we?” she asked once more, her voice soft yet firm, slicing the tension that enveloped them.

Law froze, his face inches from hers. The weight of her question hung heavy in the air, simple yet profoundly complex. He felt her warmth seep through the fabric of his shirt, and he recognized that this was the crux of everything they had danced around for so long.

What are we to each other?

His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening as an unreadable expression settled over his face. He had avoided this question for months, but now it loomed before him, an insurmountable wall he had to scale.

But how could he?

How could he articulate feelings he hadn’t fully understood himself?

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his voice coming out rougher than he had intended.

It was a dodging attempt and they both knew it.

She could hear the hesitancy in his voice, see the uncertainty swirling in his eyes. She knew he was avoiding the question, deflecting as he always did when faced with raw emotions. But she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily this time.

“You know what I’m asking,” she said, her voice steady, soft yet firm, cutting through the fog of tension. “I want to know what we are”.

Law’s eyes darkened further, his jaw clenching almost painfully as he felt the weight of her gaze. She was right; he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. But the words felt like stones lodged in his throat, and he fought against the tide of conflicting thoughts and emotions that surged within him.

Tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel. Tell her what she means to you.

But how? How could he put his feelings into words? Law had never been a man of many sentiments; emotions were his enemy, locked away behind layers of cold stoicism. He was known for his coolheadedness and unshakeable resolve. Yet here she was, this woman who had somehow burrowed her way into his heart, making him feel things he had never felt before.

He felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable. Every thought, every feeling, every emotion was laid bare, and he had no defenses left. His fingers clenched and unclenched on her hip, his head lowered, as he fought against the tide of emotions threatening to drown him.

His fingers clenched and unclenched on her hip, his head lowered. He felt like he was drowning, drowning in his thoughts and emotions. He was a pirate, a criminal, a former warlord. Men like him didn't get happily ever afters, they didn't get someone who made their heart ache.

He didn't deserve a woman like her.

He wanted to tell her that. To warn her. To say, Stay away. I’ll only cause you pain. But he couldn’t. Damn it, he couldn’t.

His chest ached with a potent mixture of guilt, longing, and an insatiable need. He wanted her, needed her, craved her. Her hand on his chest, the warmth radiating from her, her intoxicating scent—it was all too much, overwhelming him, drowning out the sound of his thoughts. He felt like a drowning man grasping for air, desperate to stay afloat.

And she was his lifeline.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze, those beautiful dark eyes that seemed to see straight into his soul. He was a man who didn’t know how to be vulnerable, yet here she was, gently coaxing him into that unfamiliar territory. Her expression was soft, understanding, yet she held his gaze, silently encouraging him to speak, to be honest with her, and with himself.

At that moment, he realized he couldn’t hold back any longer. The words were right there, teetering on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out.

I want you. I need you. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't let you go.

There were a million things he wanted to say, a million things he should say. But those three words, those three simple words, were the ones that were burning the brightest in his mind.

“I love you”.

They tumbled out in a rush, low and rough, but loud enough to echo in the stillness of his office. As soon as they left his mouth, Law realized he had never really uttered those words to anyone—not to his parents, not to Cora-san, not to any woman he had ever known. Yet here he was, saying them to this incredible woman who had somehow captured his heart.

The confession hung in the air, almost tangible. The strangest part was the relief that flooded him, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he finally articulated what had been burning within him for months.

He waited for her response, his gaze fixed on her face, desperate to read her expression, to decipher her thoughts. Would she be shocked? Surprised? Would there be discomfort?

He certainly wasn’t prepared for the smile that broke across her face.

A slow, soft smile spread across her lips, her eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. The sight made his heart skip a beat, breath catching in his throat. She was smiling. He had just confessed his feelings in a rushed, desperate whisper, and she was smiling.

Law's mind reeled, his thoughts scrambling to understand her reaction. This was not what he had expected. He had prepared for shock, uncertainty, rejection even. But not this. Not that soft, beautiful smile.

He felt a sudden rush of heat to his face. Was he blushing?

Law shifted slightly, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable he felt at that moment. He tried to act casual, to ignore the rapid beat of his heart, the hot flush on his cheeks, but it was useless. She was looking right at him, seeing straight through his defenses.

“You're smiling. Why are you smiling?” he asked, a mix of confusion and irritation coloring his tone.

She chuckled, a soft sound that sent shivers down his spine. “Is it not expected for a woman to smile when she’s been told she’s loved by the man she also loves very much?”

Law froze, his mind grinding to a halt as her comment sank in. She loved him too.

He had confessed his affections, and she had reciprocated. It seemed so simple, so obvious, now that he thought about it. Yet, it still felt surreal, like a dream from which he feared he might awaken at any moment.

“You… love me?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

She chuckled again, her smile growing wider. “Did you really think I would have stayed this long if I didn’t?”

Law’s jaw worked, but no words came out. Her question was so straightforward, so direct, that it threw him off. Of course, he knew she cared about him. They had fought side by side, saved each other’s lives, and faced insurmountable odds together. But he hadn’t realized the depth of her devotion until now.

He had been so focused on his feelings, his confusion, that he hadn't noticed hers.

He was an idiot.

She was looking at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled in that way he loved, her gentle smile still on her lips. Her gaze held no judgment, no anger, no doubt— only a calm, reassuring gaze that ignited a thrill within him.

“For someone so intelligent, you can be really dense sometimes,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Law tried to glare at her, attempted to act like her words didn’t affect him, but he was sure he wasn’t fooling her. She knew him too well, could see right through him. It was true; he was dense when it came to feelings, especially his own.

“I… I didn’t—” he began, then stopped. He didn’t know what to say. He had made a confession, poured his heart out, and now she was there, smiling at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He felt naked, exposed, but at the same time, lighter. He had finally told her how he felt, and she had told him she felt the same.

And she was still smiling at him.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess, a tangle of conflicting emotions. He was relieved that she loved him back but bewildered, scared, and vulnerable. He had never been good with feelings, yet here he was, confessing his love to the woman he had once tried to convince himself he merely tolerated.

He had been foolishly convinced that he could keep his longing for her locked away, that he could just continue on with his life, focusing on his goals and dreams. But she had seen through his facade, had seen through him.

And now she was here, in his arms, in his office, looking up at him with that damned soft smile on her face. He could feel her body heat, smell her sweet scent; it was driving him mad—the proximity, the knowledge that she loved him too.

He didn’t know how to handle it, how to process it. Her hand was still on his chest, her touch burning through his shirt. She was just looking at him, really seeing him, and it was almost unbearable. This was the most vulnerable he had ever felt in his life.

“Law”. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. It cut right into his thoughts, anchoring him in the moment.

His eyes met hers, and he was reminded all over again just how beautiful she was. Her dark eyes, her soft smile, her body pressed against his—it was all consuming. He couldn’t look away. He was trapped in her gaze, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Her hand moved up to his face, gently cupping his cheek. He felt very hot when she touched his skin, and leaned into her cool palm without wanting to. She was so close he could feel her breath on his chin, and he realized he was holding his breath, his chest painfully tight. “Now, can you answer my initial question?”

Her question shook Law from his trance. Which question? His mind was foggy, thoughts scattered. All he could focus on was the feel of her hand on his cheek and the sound of her voice. He struggled to remember the initial question, to recall what had prompted all of this.

Then it hit him. What are we?

What were they? Good question. They were partners, allies, friends—but that didn’t seem adequate anymore. Not after what had just happened. He had confessed his love for her, and she had confessed her love for him. So what did that make them? A couple? Lovers? The very thought made his stomach flutter.

“I… we…” Law stammered, trying to find the right words, but his brain felt like it was malfunctioning. How does one define a relationship?

He had never been in one, had never felt any desire to be in one until he met her. She had managed to break down his walls without even trying, getting under his skin in a way no one else had. And now here they were, and he had no idea how to define what they were.

She chuckled, the sound soft and tinged with fondness.

“Is it really that hard of a question?” she teased, her hand still on his cheek, her body still pressed against his.

Irritation mixed with embarrassment flashed through him as he realized she was finding this amusing. “Don’t mock me,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse. “I don’t have a script for this situation. I’m not exactly an expert on relationships”.

“Expert on what?” she prompted, giving him a pointed look, her voice still tinged with that same fond amusement.

His irritation flared, but he knew there was no heat behind it. She was enjoying this, relishing the fact that he was flustered and bewildered. “Relationships,” he snapped, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

Then it hit him again. Why did she make him repeat it? Her question echoed in his mind: What are we?

What were they? Partners, friends, and lovers. The words echoed in his head, each sending a flutter through his chest.

He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and the rapid beat of his heart. He was so out of his element, so vulnerable, yet inexplicably joyful at the same time.

“Lovers,” he said, the word low and rough. “We’re lovers”.

He tried to wrap his mind around it, trying to come to terms with the reality of the situation. He was in love with her, and she was in love with him. He had confessed his feelings, and she had reciprocated. They were lovers. It was surreal, unexpected, and yet somehow felt completely natural.

She let out another soft laugh, her hand remaining on his cheek. Her touch was warm, safe. “Was that so hard?”

He felt his irritation bubbling up again, but it was tempered with an almost overwhelming wave of affection. She was so cheeky, so goddamn bold. He loved it. He opened his mouth to respond, intending to snap at her, but then he caught sight of her smile, her bright eyes, and all words died in his throat.

She was beautiful, smart, strong, incredible. And she was his.

The word echoed in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

His.

She was his, and he was hers. It was so simple yet so monumental.

[eternal-evergreens]

Hello! I stumbled across your post “jjk men as yandere” and I really enjoy both your thoughts and writing style.

I would truly appreciate if you wrote any scenario involving yandere Geto with reader (sorcerer).

Thank you if you even consider writing it<3

A/N Thanks so much!!

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Meet Cute" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: Drabble

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru Geto x GN!Curse user!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is morally bankrupt, mentions of eugenics/genocide, reader is a little too into WWII, minor age gap, super greedy reader

"You're like a modern-day Hitler, huh?"

"...What?" Geto looked at you with wide eyes, putting down his to-go cup to better gape at you.

"Well, you are advocating for mass genocide and literal eugenics," you say, taking an unbothered sip of your own coffee. (Geto recommended the place. Apparently, his kids like the hot chocolate there. You'll have to ask him for the name of the place later.) "So, yeah, you're like Hitler."

Geto appears to be having a crisis of some sort. Just sort of staring down at his lap with an unreadable look on his face. You watch with amusement. This kid must be a newbie, you think—not that you're much older than him, but you at least have seniority on this.

"What, are you getting cold feet? You've already killed people, you know. If you want to make it in this career, you're gonna have to get real comfortable being compared to some pretty terrible things."

"I'm used to being called terrible things, it's just—"

"Oh, what? Like monster?" Geto says nothing, and you sigh, reclining back in your chair. (Damn, this cult has some nice shit. You wonder if you can sneak the couch out without anyone noticing?) "So unoriginal. Anyway keep your chin up. It's actually a good thing. Hitler already exists, so you can steal his ideas."

"Weren't you just complaining about something being unoriginal?" You wave your hand dismissively.

"That was then, this is now. Anyway what do you think? Hitler industrialized murder. You can do the same—if you can get the right ingredients."

"You're talking about power, right?"

"Pretty much. You'll need hands and money. And a lot of both. With that in mind, this cult is actually a perfect setup. But putting that aside," you take another sip of your drink. Empty. Damn it. "You didn't call me here just so I could give you my professional opinion, did you?"

Geto smiles. "I hear you'll do anything for money."

"I don't come cheap, you know."

"That's not a problem," he snaps his fingers, and someone, a "monkey" from the looks of it, walks in, clearly struggling with the weight of whatever's in that giant briefcase. You suppress a smile as it's placed on the table and opened. Hundreds, no, thousands of ¥10,000 notes line the briefcase from top to bottom. You nearly salivate from just looking at it. Quickly, you check for any signs of deceit, of counterfeits, empty space, or otherwise. You can't find anything.

"You'll find this briefcase contains over one billion yen." Geto says, gesturing for his...indentured servant to close the case. How many bills is that? It's gotta be over a million. You're half tempted to take the money and run, but years of experience have taught you not to underestimate guys carrying this much cash. "I trust this is sufficient?"

"That depends on the job," you say, crossing your arms. "If you want me to take out Satoru Gojo, you'll need to multiply it a hundredfold before I even consider it."

"It's nothing that severe," he says, wearing the smile of a polished businessman. You sit up a little straighter. Maybe you were wrong about this guy being an amateur. Whatever he wants you to do, it's bad news. You feel excitement tingling in your veins. Will he ask you to take out a city? A country? Considering the scale of his plans, you wouldn't be surprised if he wanted you to take out a continent... you'd need a bit more to do something like that, though.

"I want you to marry me."

You snort, then laugh. You laugh for a very long time, even holding your stomach as you bend over in your seat. If this was a ploy to make you let your guard down long enough to kill you, it was smart. Still, you wouldn't go down that easily. You're more than confident enough in your ability to defend yourself, even in such a hilarious encounter.

Finally, the laughter dies down, and you wipe a tear from your eye. You look up at Geto's face, only for him to look back at you oddly serious. "No way..." you murmur, "are you for real?"

"I'm afraid I am," he says. Your smile drops. How annoying. What's this guy even want from you, huh?

"So, what, that money's a dowry?"

"More like a bribe."

"Uh-uh. No way. Not happening. I can't take a job like that."

"You're not even going to ask what's in it for me?"

"Not interested," you say, grabbing your bag and standing.

"I think I ought to tell you anyway," he says, throwing a sack onto the table. A stack of yen falls out, and you eye it with a raised eyebrow. "That's my payment for listening," he says. "¥200,000."

You inspect the fallen stack. Once again, it's real. He's either crazy or plotting something, and you have a hunch it's the latter. You sit back down. Whatever he's thinking, it's definitely bad news. Even so, you need more information to properly deal with it.

"I've heard you're the sole caretaker of four siblings." He shouldn't know that, but you decide not to derail the conversation by asking. "As you know, I've got two little girls of my own."

"So, what? You need a babysitter?"

"Precisely."

"Okay, but why marriage? Surely you could just hire me as a nanny and be done with it?"

"The girls don't trust strangers easily. I already told them that I had a Fiance out of town who'd be coming back soon. Just play along with it and you'll be compensated accordingly." "For how long?"

"Just until they turn eighteen."

"You'll have to pay me more." "What I showed you earlier was just a down payment; you'll also get an annual salary of fifteen million."

"Make it twenty."

"How's forty?" he says. You ponder over it for a moment. Judging from how you saw things earlier, it seems like he does genuinely love those kids. He's young and not afraid of spending, which would make you worry about the sustainability of the job, but cults are famous for making tons of cash.

"How old are they?"

"Six." So, twelve years. Counting the initial (over) one billion, the listening fee of two hundred thousand, and the annual salary times twelve, you'll be paid over ¥1,480,200,000. That's more than enough to send your siblings to college, as well as set them up for life.

"Deal," you say, reaching your hand out to shake. You'd ask why he doesn't just hire someone more qualified, but you think that speech on 'monkeys' he gave you answers the question.

"It's getting late," he says, shaking your hand. "How about I take you to dinner?"

"Why?"

"My girls are smart. They'll realize something's up if we don't know anything about each other," he says, standing.

"This isn't coming out of my salary, right?" Geto, or, you suppose you should be calling him Suguru, now, chuckles.

"I'm not nearly that stingy," he says. He holds out his arm to escort you, and you take it. "I'll need your ring size, too."

Of course, he already knows it. That, and so much more. After all, this may be your first time meeting him, but he's already met you plenty of times.

"Sure, but I'm not paying. Also, if you get me an ugly one I'm selling it."

"We'll go together, then." For some reason, the smile on his face seems a little too genuine to be meant for someone he's only just met, but you pay it no mind. Money is money, after all.

"Oh, what about living arrangements?"

"You and your siblings will live here," he says. "You'll have to sleep in the same bed as me, I'm afraid. Just to keep up the illusion."

"Do I get a bonus for that?"

"You're hurting my feelings," he says.

[mywritersmind]

DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4

summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.

listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!

word count : 653

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.

I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.

He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.

I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.

“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”

I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”

“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”

“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.

It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.

“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.

“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”

“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.

“Ya think?”

“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.

Apparently drunk him does.

I practically choke, “Oh?”

His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”

“I- thank you?”

“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”

“What guys?” I laugh.

“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”

I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”

He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”

“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.

He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”

Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.

“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”

“I didn’t know you disliked him.”

“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!

I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.

“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.

“Drunk words are-”

“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”

“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you back, Lan.”

[eldritch-spouse]

Full: Twitter/X; Postimages

TW: Parasocial obsession; Sugarbaby!reader

[Fem reader]

It's odd to think how things have escalated to this point.

When you started this whole "sugar companionship", "angel" thing, you didn't exactly expect anything to come of it. More of a last ditch effort to bring in some much appreciated side money, and fulfill someone's social needs while you're at it. It would be a win-win situation, right?

You don't remember how Viridis showed up. Probably through DMs in your social media account. You didn't post too much of yourself there aside from a few photos where you felt particularly pretty, and apparently, your taste for finer items showed itself there, enough for you to get hit up by something other than a scambot and creeps.

In his defense, the guy was never rude towards you. He didn't barge in begging for nude photos or demanding attention. Viridis just told you he thought you were gorgeous, and he wanted to see you living the lavish life you deserved.

Before you could even reply, a notification drops, displaying a sum of money transferred to you. The amount was large enough to have you choke on your own saliva, hysterically cackling.

Ever since then, he's been a permanent figure in your life, constantly there through thick and thin, someone you could even call a friend, even if there's a financial power dynamic always involved in your interactions.

It was hard not to get somewhat attached to your "donator".

You got to know each other, after all. You told him about what you do for a living, and he said he was an important figure in the ring of Sloth. You are both single. He's had bad experiences with former girlfriends and feels incredibly lonely. When you felt depressed, Viridis was there to console you, a generous tip accompanying his request for you to "Go cheer yourself up ;)".

And when he felt bad, he'd buy you something, ask you to unwrap it, send him a voice message saying you loved it.

You don't know when that turned into sending him videos saying you loved him.

It feels weird. Kind of wrong. But the more money he blows on you, the more you get to do all the things your finances never allowed before, the happier you are. So what, if he just wants a little good morning text with hearts and a picture of you dressed in the clothes he buys for you? It's puzzling how he got your measurements so right without asking, but maybe he just has an eye for that kind of thing.

Eventually, things escalated to video calls. And you finally got to see Viridis.

He's a surprisingly well-kept imp, with peculiar looking horns and glazed white eyes. Much better than what the morbid side of your brain was conjuring in its growing restlessness. He'd put so much effort into that paid ten minute call, and seemed so gleeful that you'd been wearing an outfit he put together. More than that, once the nervous jitters were shed, he actually made for a great conversation partner- Were it not for the alarm, you two might have spent an hour or more rambling together.

It comes as no surprise that you eventually started doing meal time calls. He'd pay to eat with you through video call, usually dinner time, or during his breaks. He seemed excited about them every time he "booked" these sessions, even going as far as asking what you'd be eating, and if he could pay you to get the exact same type of food as his. How could you refuse?

Viridis would tell you about his day, you'd tell him about yours, and the two of you would quell your loneliness that way. Sometime he'd hint at things he wanted to buy for you, gouging your reaction, waiting for that shine in your eyes. It always seemed to put a glow on the imp's face whenever you thanked him and got bashful over his many contributions.

He'd say I love you, my pretty bijou, and as agreed, you'd say it back to him in a convincing manner.

Viridis' latest idea involves spending his day off, scheduled to match yours, "with you". As usual, he was straightforward with what he wanted, and paid more than you'd reasonably stipulate for such a service. Enough money that you'd be incredibly foolish to decline, for a single day of sucking up to him- It's not even hard to suck up to the demon, he seems to melt pretty easily from the most basic of praise or admiration.

The imp wants to video call a routine he built for you, essentially. From the moment you put on your makeup and fix your hair to leave, to breakfast where he specified, then a shopping trip to whatever locations you desire, taking breaks for whatever needs you must fulfill in between, down to the moment where you get ready for bed, under the covers, and wish him good night.

It didn't seem so bad, if only a little overwhelming given there's a lot more interaction involved. And so far, things have gone pretty well! You can't lie and say that you're not enjoying getting to spend even more money on all your favorite brands, after all. Sure, at least two separate employees asked if you were in a long distance relationship -Something Viridis was all too eager to confirm- But there's hardly been a hiccup besides that.

" Hey, what do you think about these? " You point the camera at a set of dangle earrings, made of a beautiful rose gold and diamond, molded in the shape of three little hearts. You don't mention the price tag, but it's very visible.

The demon, who appears to be reclinging in a balcony of sorts, hums. " They'd look cute on you, I like the pavé on it. Get them. "

" Hold on, there's more- " You shuffle all the bags you're holding to pan over to a different display. " What about these? "

" Sure, but you're getting the heart ones. " Viridis insists, then pauses as you study the differently styled jewelry. " I should get you something with Hell's gold, the color definitely pops more, I think you'd love some of the stuff we have here. "

" Mhmm, I bet. " You absentmindedly respond. " Too bad I don't live in Hell, hah. "

There's a slightly heavier silence for a few seconds as you worry if you've touched a nerve.

" You could come visit, bijou. "

You resist the urge to snort. " Viridis, I- "

" You know I'd pay for the expenses, right? Get you a nice hotel in Sloth, it's one of the calmer rings, and I'd come pick you up so you're not walking around alone. "

The demon smiles hopefully, taking a sip of what you assume must be some kind of sparkling wine. Nothing less dignified in a glass as unique as the one he flaunts.

" You know that's... " It's hard to deny him without outright sounding ungrateful. That's one thing you've been noticing lately, how hard it seems to deny him. " I... "

Your hesitation is answer enough, making him visibly deflate. There's a flash of sourness on his face, though it fades quickly. " I get it. That's a big step. We can talk about it another time. "

Thank fuck.

You leave that store with possibly the most beautiful pair of earrings you've ever owned, proceed to wrestle a multitude of bags into your car -Thankful Viridis can't see you sweat it out- And proceed to fix yourself up in preparation for the dinner call. It's a lot easier to go through than the entire shopping spree was. You're home, it's just the two of you, the same as any other meal call you've arranged.

" Was today fun for you, bijou? " He sighs, ever enamored it seems.

" Of course! It's always fun when I get to shop with you. " It's not even a lie. Painted nails graze over the empty pasta plate when you pick new kitchenware up. " Let me just put these in the sink. "

" Uhm, before that- " The imp interrupts as soon as you stand. " Can I ask you for something? "

" ... Yeah? "

" I was wondering if you could try out what you bought today... For me. "

" On- On camera? " You gulp, suddenly feeling a lot more timid.

" Yes. " Viridis scratches the base of his horn. " I'd just... I don't know, it makes me feel closer to you than just seeing pictures of you with it on. I'll compensate, don't worry. "

You don't doubt him.

Part of you really wants to say no. In the midst of all this, you've never once undressed for him. You've put on risky outfits that toyed with the lines of common decency, but that's not as intimate as this.

Which also means he'll pay well.

Fuck.

No.

Yes.

He's waiting...

" Uhh- Erm- I... Y-Yeah, I guess we can try that after I organize things. "

" Super! " He winks at you. " Call me when you're ready. "

And you do. With some liquid courage in your system and a healthy amount of love for disposable income, you call Jayde with all the bags laid out around your bedroom, and the phone positioned just so that he can see you stand, and the reflection of your back on the tall mirror behind you.

You're shaking lightly, it feels like the first call you had with him.

When Viridis answers, you almost don't know what to say.

He's... In his bedroom. At least you've seen it enough times to recognize it as such. Distinctly topless, however. It's the first time you've seen him somewhat undressed. Maybe he's trying to be humorous, as if saying he's half-naked in solidarity with you. It doesn't stop you from staring at a moderately attractive figure.

" Hey! You ready, sweetie? " He grins with that jagged mouth.

" Mhm, yeah. " There's a clearing of the throat. " Why don't you pick the first one? "

He did, all too eagerly. You were quick to shuffle in and out of clothes, cheeks heated, a tiny smile on your face, hoping you could simply ignore the growing discomfort. The demon looked thrilled every second of the way, and even if you could somehow feel him ogling the generous slices of skin you'd show, he made an effort to keep talking just so you'd have something else to focus on.

It's okay, he's only seeing you in your underwear from time to time. You're just doing him a one-time favor. You can forget about it later.

" I guess that's it! " You pant, spinning again so that the imp can see how the lace looks on the back of the dress he bought you. " Boy, that was a lot. "

There's some shuffling coming from the phone, he seems to be sitting straighter now. " I'm... Pretty sure I got you something else. "

There's a long pause. You almost pretend you didn't hear him while you readjust the fabric on you.

" A-Ah? Really? "

" Yeah, check those bags bijou, pretty sure that's not all. " He urges. You can hear a faint tap. tap. tap. from his side.

Well, you tried.

Viridis isn't lying, there's another set he bought for you. Except, this set, is lingerie underwear.

Throughout your shopping trip, you'd forgotten that the local mall has a lingerie store. It wasn't one you had the chance to go to many times, since everything there is so expensive, and before Viridis came along your wallet would just scream in its vicinity...

Nevertheless, you weren't cautious enough to hide it from the camera, didn't think you had to, only to be proven wrong when the imp calls for you to halt and get in. It was awkward. It was very awkward. But he seemed enamored with a green set. It had floral designs covering plenty of see-through space, framing delicate parts of the body such as the nipples.

It is a lovely garment, you won't deny that. But you know the main draw for him was that it just so happened to be a shade of green which alluded to his username. It was viridian green. You looked it up from mild paranoia, yes. This was even more personal.

He insisted you got that one, specifically that one. And so, you did.

It's right there, on the last little bag.

God fucking damn it.

" Mm y-yeah, now that you mention it, I think there is something left, right. "

He hums, and you try to draw out the search as much as you can, in spite of the fucking thing being right there, practically staring you in the eyes. You return to the camera's field of view holding the lingerie up timidly.

" How could you forget that one? It's probably the prettiest thing I ever bought you. " Viridis swoons.

" ... You think so? Everything you get me is pretty, Viridis. " Distract him distract him distract-

Predictably, he blushes a little, a small 'heh' escaping him. " Jayde. Call me Jayde. "

Your head snaps up. Oh wow, okay. We've reached that point.

" Jayde. " His face lifts visibly. " Ah, thanks. It's very cute. "

The silence that follows is more tentative, unspoken words hanging in the air.

" Glad you think so... Can't wait to see how it looks on you. " He grins wide, reminding you, for a fraction of a second, that you're dealing with a demonic monster.

" Hahah, o-ok, let me just turn the camera- "

" Actually- " Your heart sinks. " I'd like to see you put it on. "

" The lingerie? " A bit of franticness bleeds into your tone.

" Yes. "

" R-Right now? "

Jayde chuckles. " Well, it's the only thing that's left, isn't it bijou? "

You think about it for a couple of seconds, wherein the reality of your situation seems to sink in. Can you truly deny him? You don't think Jayde would have an explosive reaction to rejection, but then again, you never rejected his suggestions before. What if he gets offended? Pulls away entirely? You'll never be able to afford this lifestyle without him.

What if all of this has stopped being in your control, and, in the end, you transferred the reigns to someone else?

He reads the reluctance plainly written on your face.

" ... Just this one time, sweetie. " He coaxes. " You're incredibly beautiful, you know that? I'd give a few fingers to see you. "

He continues to speak over the mental rut you've been thrown into.

" Any man would be lucky to have a jewel like you. I want to keep spoiling you forever. Please, put it on for me? "

You don't know what it was. Perhaps the fear of losing his money, maybe it was the praise, or simply the pure desire to get this over with- But, you take off your top.

The scene isn't sexy or mischievous, you just glance away timidly as you lower the straps of your bra and reach back to unclasp it. Your slowness may be unintentionally teasing him, and from the small glances you steal at your phone, he looks stupidly concentrated, cheeks nearly as dark as yours as he finally -Finally!- Gets to see your tits.

Air catches in your throat, you can't quite tell if it's the thrill of exposing yourself or pure anxiety.

" They're gorgeous... " He murmurs. You almost didn't hear it.

Slipping the new fabric in is easier, the garment is designed with maximum comfort in mind and settles nicely on your chest, especially when you arrange your breasts into position.

" Perfect. " Jayde sighs. " I wish I could touch you. You're so perfect. "

If you weren't running hotter than a steaming kettle before, you are now. All you manage to respond with is a hum and nervous giggling.

" Put the whole thing on. "

There's a full-body shiver when you start taking your panties off. In all your nerves, you fail to remember that the mirror behind you makes it so Jayde doesn't just get a view of your mons, he also gets to stare at your ass unhindered.

" Fffucking- "

He whispers something you don't notice when the fabric drops to the floor, and you lift a leg away to pick it up.

You're sliding the new ones up your bare legs when there's a little too much shuffling being heard from his side. Not a lot, but just enough to make you escape your own internal panic.

You only now realize that you can't see his hands anywhere. One is definitely holding the phone close to him, the other... Who knows. His shoulder shifts.

" Uhm, hahah, what are you doing there? " You jokingly ask, trying to reduce the awkwardness of the situation by insinuating something ridiculous.

The teasing look shatters when he doesn't immediately respond or laugh it off. In fact, he looks like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

" N-!! No way! " You hurriedly fix the panties in place, choking on a breath.

" Sorry- I'm sorry, bijou- " He attempts a wobbly smile, not even denying it. " You just look so adorable flustered. You don't have to see it... Just pretend I'm not... "

Pretend I'm not jerking off, he means.

You can barely raise your voice above a whisper, doing a full turn so he can see how the lingerie sits on your body. Embarrassment has you grabbing your arm and trying to close your legs further, unwittingly flaunting exactly the curves he wants to see.

" You're gorgeous- " He repeats, eyes lidded, something far beyond lust shining in them. " You're the prettiest woman alive. You're sweet, you don't push me away or get spooked. I'm... So happy someone like you gives me the time of day. "

You don't know what to say, don't know what to do besides standing there as a monster audibly gets off on the sight of you in luxury lingerie.

" It's been too long since I met a girl like you. "

You don't quite like the intensity of his stare. Even if no man has ever directed words as flattering as these towards you, it feels like something is too intense about his demeanor.

" Jayde... " You cough. " Are you...? "

" Close. " He admits, laughing breathily. " I've never been this hard before. "

Apparently, he just said it to see you freeze and get even more flustered. " Please hurry up... "

" Are you tired, sweetheart? " His tone is near condescending.

" Y-Yeah. " Anything to speed it along.

" Uhuh, I bet. " Jayde's breathing gets shallower. " You'll go to bed soon, don't worry. "

" Mhm... " God, you're dying inside.

" I love you, bijou. "

Help.

" I... I love you too, Jayde. " You had to drag each word out of your tongue.

That did it. He's tossing his head back and furrowing his brows. You can hear the way Jayde stops breathing to hold any noises in, a groan still makes it through, you hate the traitorous flutter of your pussy that followed.

" I'm... Going to put my pajamas on now. Goodnight Jayde. " You try to break the silence while he recovers.

The expression on the imp's face can only be described as love-drunk, and sweaty.

" Goodnight, sweetie. "

As soon as the call drops, you make an inhuman noise of shame and bury yourself under the covers, kicking shopping bags aside.

It must have been mere minutes before a notification drops.

There's no doubt in you that's the demon's "compensation".

[conundrumoftime]

One of the fun things about shipping Haladriel and about Galadriel's story in Rings of Power, for me, is that we know exactly where this is going to end up. And I wanted to babble for a bit about where that place is because I have seen so many people view it as "she is retired to some woods to be a passive wife-and-mother who can do magic but in a mystical New Age-y way", and: no! No.

So a quick overview of where she will end up by LOTR:

Very much not removed from the war against Sauron.

She is constantly mind-battling against Sauron: One of the lines that inspired McKay and Payne's whole show was her talking about this: "I say to you, Frodo, that even as I speak to you, I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the Elves. And he gropes ever to see me and my thought." In one of the versions of the Annatar story in Unfinished Tales, Sauron immediately realises she will be his 'chief adversary', and has apparently not changed that assessment 3500 years later.

She co-ordinates joint efforts against Sauron: The White Council that Elrond talks about in LOTR, the combined force of Ring-bearers, wizards and elf-lords that first drives Sauron out of Dol Guldur - she's not just on that, she founded it.

She gets Gandalf back after Moria and the Balrog: Galadriel learns what's happened to Gandalf from the Fellowship when they arrive in Lothlórien. The the Fellowship are sad; the elves of Lothlórien mourn; Celeborn loses it a bit and says Gandalf 'fell into folly'; but Galadriel sends Gwaihir the eagle to get him, returns him to health, updates him on the situation with Boromir, gives him some messages to take to the others, and sends him back on his way.

She is possibly in Lothlórien because of its position of strategic importance: from Unfinished Tales here, she 'saw that Lórien would be a stronghold and point of power to prevent the Shadow from crossing the Anduin in the war that must inevitably come' and that's why she and Celeborn go there. (There are other versions as with almost everything else in Tolkien, but this is one of them.) She's not there to hide away from Events.

2. Calmer than in TROP, but not all-wise and all-sweet and still pretty scary.

She is still tempted by power and world domination: "I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer [...] In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the morning and the night!"

And, she doesn't just turn down the One Ring because it's abstractly eeeevil. She turns it down because she knows what she, specifically, would do with it. Sam sees a vision of the Shire, and tells her "I wish you'd take his Ring. You'd put things to rights. You'd stop them digging up the Gaffer and turning him adrift. You'd make some folk pay for their dirty work," to which she says that yes, she would: "That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas! We will not speak more of it."

And saying she wants to rule the world here is not me joking about! This is Tolkien describing that moment in LOTR:

It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all that she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full-grown and she rejected it

People are scared of her: The only scary moment we directly see is the Ring temptation, but she does other unsettling things. When she meets the Fellowship she tests them by reading their minds and offering something they really want to see if it would make them "turn aside from the road and leave the Quest and the war against Sauron to others." (She offers Sam a garden; the One Ring later on tempts him with the same thing.) Even the hobbits are a bit disturbed by this and Boromir, who's already said he doesn't want to go into Lothlórien because people who do that never leave again, absolutely does not trust her.

Éomer, a few chapters later:

'Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!' he said. 'Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favour, then you are also net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe.'

She's scary! She's ancient and powerful and people are scared of her.

3. Married, but not in the character-limiting way the nerdbros want it to be and would have you believe it is.

I am not telling anyone they should ship Galadriel/Celeborn or even find it interesting just because I do, but, the angry nerdbros fancasting Celeborn as Henry Cavill and talking about how he'll come back to tame her and tidy her neatly out of the narrative are writing their own little AU headcanons because that is not what's in the text.

She's the more powerful one. Partly because she's one of the 'High Elves' - she's Noldor and has lived in Valinor seen the light of the Trees - which for various reasons about the way Tolkien's elves work just makes her more powerful, partly because she has a Ring of Power and Celeborn doesn't. It's her Mirror; she's the one reading people's minds; she's the one locked in endless mental battles with Sauron; she's the one the Rohirrim (whose lands border Lothlorien's) tell each other scary stories about. Celeborn at no point ever seems to have an issue with this, and calls her his 'treasure'.

They work together. Even in a big-action-sequences sense: after Sauron's defeat, Celeborn 'led the host of Lorien over Anduin in many boats' to Dol Guldur, where Galadriel 'threw down its walls and laid bare its pits'. But the rest of the time, too: she says of him that 'together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat'.

You really get the sense that they have been married for a loooooong time. An actual sequence of events in LOTR, somewhat condensed:

The Fellowship reveal there's a Balrog in Moria;

Celeborn goes "!!!!", complains about dwarves waking it up and says he'd never have let Gimli into Lothlorien if he'd known that;

Galadriel smacks Celeborn down for being rude to their guest;

Celeborn apologises to Gimli;

Galadriel tells the Fellowship that Celeborn is accounted the wisest of elves;

Boromir says something about "old wives' tales";

Celeborn, whose wife is one of the oldest beings in Middle-earth, tells Boromir not to be so dismissive because "old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know";

Galadriel hands Celeborn a drink.

Whatever is going on here is clearly something that works for them, is what I'm saying! And you don't have to find their marriage interesting just because I do, of course; but what it's not is some trad fantasy of domestic subservient-wife anything.

So where her TROP story ends up is ultimately with LOTR Galadriel: powerful, important, tempted to rule the world, a bit calmer than in TROP, a bit happier than in TROP, co-ordinating big strategic efforts in the war, married to someone who's got her back and adores her and they fall out a bit sometimes but generally work pretty well together, and still having Sauron constantly trying to get into her head. I am fine with this! I am more than fine with this.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

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@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[muldj0rd]

I don’t want you like a best friend || Maxiel

Summary: Max is head over heels for Daniel, and efter the Singapore '24, he wants to make Daniel feel better, but is way too nervous to make a move

Warnings: Anal, anal fingering, unprotected sex, cremepie, blow job, not beta read

masterlist || AO3

“Amigo. You okay?” Checo asked Max as he saw him looking off into the distance

“I just feel bad for him” Max mumbled, Checo now noticed Max was staring at Daniel across the paddock

“Of course you do. He’s you’re best friend” Checo hummed, shrugging slightly

I don’t want you like a best friend Max thought as he kept looking at Daniel

“Yeah. He is” Max was utterly in love with Daniel. He thought he was being obvious about it, but apparently not, since nobody had picked up on it. He had told Charles when he was drunk once, but never uttered a word about his feelings after that

“I want to help him- make him feel better some how” Max muttered, his eyes starting to strain as he didn’t want to let Daniel out of his sight, even if it was only to blink

“Get him dinner. Take him to the movies. Play paddle with him” Checo suggested with a slight shrug again “Do something with him that he loves”

Dinner? Sounds like a date. Paddle? Daniel would get sweaty and Max would get horny. Movies it is

Max nodded softly “Thank you”

“No problem” Checo shrugged

After the Singaporean race, and Max knew that Daniel was back in Monaco, he shot him a message, asking him if he wanted to watch a movie in the cinema that he knew Daniel had been talking about going to see himself

Daniel replied with a yes. They found a date and time, Max offering to pay it all, but Daniel refused to let Max pay it all, so they split it

There weren’t a lot of people at the cinema. That was good when Max had ordered tickets for the back row

Max knew, that if he had to make a move, it had to be doing it under the movie, but he didn’t want to disturb Daniel, he seemed so focused on the screen

“You keep staring at me” Daniel whispered, leaning a little closer to Max, his eyes still stuck to the screen

“What? N-no I’m not” Max stuttered, looking away, hoping the darkness around him covered the blush of his cheeks

“If you say so” Daniel hummed, loosely intertwining his fingers with Max’s, making sure he could pull away if he wanted to

Max blushed deeper, crossing his legs, whimpering quietly at the touch

It was incredible what one simple touch from Daniel did to him, even more so when Daniel started rubbing his thumb over the back of Max’s hand

Max was starting to sweat a lot, more than if he had just invited Daniel to play paddle

His heart was beating fast as well, way too fast. A pace that wasn’t healthy, causing him to get light headed as well

“Are you okay, Maxie?” Daniel whispered, putting the back of his hand against Max’s forehead

“‘M fine” Max mumbled, squirming in his seat

“Come on. Let’s get some air” Daniel stood up, pulling Max with him by his hand

“You don’t have to. I know you’ve been wanting to watch this movie” Max whispered, Daniel keeping on pulling him out

“You’re more important” Daniel argued as they got out of the cinema and into cool air hitting them like a brick wall, making Max sigh heavily, leaning against the railing, having let go of Daniel by now

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel put a hand on Max’s back between his shoulder bales, causing Max’s breath to hitch “I can drive you home if you’re getting sick”

“N-no. I-I’m fine” Great. The chance of making a move on Daniel was ruined because he acted like a love-sick teenager

“You don’t look-“ Daniel was cut off when Max pulled him close by his waist, kissing him firmly

Daniel kissed back immediately, holding Max by his hips, pushing him softly back against the railing, caging him in

Daniel pulled away, needing air “See? Fine” Max panted, making Daniel chuckle softly “Just… Very, very much in love” Max mumbled quietly, looking away from Daniel

It gave Daniel the chance to kiss at Max’s neck softly, making Max whimper softly, his hands falling from Daniel’s waist the to railing beside Daniel’s own hands

“Daniel” Max whined quietly

The drive to Daniel’s apartment was a blur, just up until Daniel had Max pinned against the elevator wall, kissing him firmly

“Danny” Max whined, his hands under Daniel’s shirt, digging his nails into his waist

“I can’t make the elevator go faster, Max” Daniel chuckled, kissing down Max’s neck and throat

The elevator doors finally opened on the right floor, Max not hesitating to push Daniel off and pull him out

Max was pressed up against the closed door in no time, but he was quick to turn them around and sinking to the floor, now eye levelled with Daniel’s crotch

“Fuck” Daniel breathed out, one hand on the back of Max’s neck, holding it there softly, the other on his shoulder

He bit his bottom lips softly when Max started unbuckling his belt, zipping his zipper down and undoing the button

Max whimpered softly when he saw the size of Daniel as he pulled his jeans and briefs down just enough

“Come on, baby. You can take it” Daniel encouraged softly, the hand on the back of his neck moving to his jaw, his thumb caressing Max’s skin

Max nodded softly at Daniel’s words, spitting in his hand before slowly stroking Daniel. Loose and softly

“Fuck. Maxie- stop teasing” Daniel moaned softly when Max’s thumb brushed over Daniel’s slit

Max smiled softly before licking a stripe from the base of Daniel’s cock to the tip, circling him once before taking as much of Daniel in his mouth as possible, gaging slightly around him

Daniel didn’t let Max set a pace. His hand was immediately in his short hair, moving his head at his own desired pace

Max held onto the back of Daniel’s thighs tightly, gagging every time Daniel hit the back of his throat, which was pretty often

Tears started gathering in Max’s eyes, causing Daniel to pull him off of his cock, watching as Max gasped for air, and a string of spit connected them

“You okay, darling?” Daniel asked softly, caressing Max’s jaw softly

“Mhm. Let me keep going” Max said, but Daniel pulled him away when he went back to Daniel’s cock “Please” He whimpered

“I wanna come inside you” Max’s body shouldn’t flush red like it did at just those words

“Strip and get on the bed” Daniel said, watching as Max hurried into the bedroom, chuckling slightly at his reaction

Daniel slowly moved to the bedroom, pulling off his shirt once he closed the door behind him, sure enough seeing Max naked as he laid on his back in the middle of the bed

“God, you’re cute when you obey” Daniel chuckle that Max let out as he pushed his jeans and briefs proper down and stepped out of them

He walked around to the night stand, pulling the lube out of the drawer before spreading Max’s legs, sitting on his knees between them

“Bend” Daniel patted Max’s thigh softly, pouring some lube on his fingers, warming it up as Max bend his knees

Daniel circled Max’s hole, smirking softly at the whines and whimpers he let out of his throat

He slowly pushed one finger inside, hearing Max’s small moan which he covered with his hand over his mouth

“No, no. Baby, let me hear you” Daniel hummed, pushing Max’s hand away from his mouth

Max whimpered as Daniel had now intertwined their fingers again, his other hand slowly pumping his finger in and out of Max

Daniel softly pushed in another finger when Max was loose enough, slowly getting him more stretched out

Max moaned louder once Daniel started curling his fingers to hit his prostate. Soft and slow at first

When Max was loose enough, Daniel added a third finger, starting to almost *pound* his finger up into Max’s prostate, getting the younger a moaning mess under him

“Please, Daniel. Please. I’m ready- jus’ fuck me” Max managed to pant out between his moans, holding onto the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white

Daniel chuckled softly, slowly pulling his fingers out of Max, making him whine at the emptiness

Daniel’s belt became wet with the lube when he unbuckled it, pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor, stepping out of them before getting back onto the bed in between Max’s legs

He poured lube into his palm, stroking himself, getting himself wet with the lube, lining himself up with Max’s hole

Max whined, wrapping his legs around the older man’s hips, pulling him closer, only making him whimper when the head of Daniel’s cock pushed into him

“Fuck” Daniel groaned softly, putting both of his hands on Max’s hips, slowly pushing further inside him

“Danny” Max whined, his nails digging into the Aussie’s biceps, leaving half circle marks in his skin

“Shh. I got you, darlin’. Just need to get you adjusted” Daniel panted heavily, making Max whine at the rejection

“Please” Max put his hands on Daniel’s jaw, pulling him down to kiss him tender. Soft and un-rushed, but it was filled with love

“Fuck- you’re really making it hard for me to not move” Daniel chuckled, leaning back again “But I guess that’s the point” He smiled softly

“Mhm. Yes, it is. Please, Daniel. Please- I need it so-“ He cut himself off with a loud moan when Daniel pulled out and roughly slammed into him

He did this a few times before he sat a fast and rough pace, angling Max’s hips so he could hit his prostate dead on

“Danny! Please-“ Max was a moaning, babbling mess under Daniel, who was groaning and moaning softly

Sweat was coating Max’s body, sweat from Daniel’s curls dripping onto his body as well

In any other setting, it would be disgusting, but the only thing that contained their minds were how close they both were to their orgasms

“Touch yourself for me, Maxie” Daniel moaned softly, his hands fighting around Max’s hips

Max shook his head as best as he could “N-no. I’ll come too fast” He gasped out

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m close too. Touch yourself” His tone became almost demanding

Max could do nothing else but obey. He back arched, hand around his cock, stroking himself, his other hand on Daniel’s bicep

“Fuck, baby. Come for me, love” Max couldn’t hold back anymore, and almost screamed Daniel’s name as he came, his whole body shaking as his hole fluttered around Daniel’s cock

Daniel moaned louder than he had the whole night when he came, his hips stuttering as he kept himself buried inside max as he came

They were both panting heavily as Daniel laid down on top of Max, breathing into his sweaty neck

“I don’t want you like a best friend” Max panted, kissing Daniel’s shoulder softly “I want more”

“Much more” Daniel agreed with a slight chuckle

[synthetickitsune]

hoshi,,,blind date,,,fluff

Hoshi (SVT) | Blind date fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

The evening was… nice.

And that’s about all that you can say about it.

Honestly that is in part why you seldom say yes to blind dates. But since your one-plus-one deal coworker and trusted friend in one insisted you and their other friend Soonyoung should give it a try, you eventually agreed.

There was nothing wrong with him. He was nice. A little awkward, his shyness matching yours, but you didn’t mind much. He was laughing at your jokes a little too hard, but it was endearing. The conversation flowed well, he was kind, funny. Nice.  

Not to mention handsome. Maybe slightly cuter than a guy has any business being, but it works so well for him. It’s very charming, actually.

But for a date, it was nothing special - which is to be expected, of course. It was obvious he liked you, as much as you could like little more than a stranger, which made him less of a social butterfly than he is at the office (at least from what you could tell from his stories). You’re sure that the next date would be better since you’d be more familiar with each other, but honestly… Is it worth it? Perhaps you had too high expectations after a long and tiring week, just craving something magical to make the struggle worth it.

You feel slightly guilty for feeling that way when Soonyoung has been nothing but sweet the whole time, even now as you’re strolling along the river with the setting sun shining down on you, he’s great. It’s quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet. You’re grateful for the brief pause in conversation as you sip on the cold drink in your hand. 

The park on your other side is getting empty, but there’s still plenty of people chatting on the blankets having a late picnic. The insects are buzzing, the water is rippling. It all makes up a nice ambiance of dying summer.

While you’re pondering the pros and cons of a second date, the kids in front of you finally talk their parents into buying them some ice cream. Just as you’re passing by them, the youngest one tries to run away from its siblings and the ice cream suddenly splatters on the ground as they wobble. The kid looks at the mess like it’s the biggest tragedy to ever befall mankind.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from laughing. Soonyoung next to you isn’t so successful.

He starts walking faster, about to burst, and his barely contained laughter only makes it that much more difficult for you so you match his pace, and then all it takes for you to lose it is one glance at each other. At least you’re out of earshot of the parents fussing over the kid.

“It’s not nice,” a shaky breath interrupted by laughter, “To laugh at something like that.���

“Thanks for the reminder,” you don’t take the scolding to heart, instead you try to calm your breathing. Which just makes Soonyoung laugh harder, which in turn makes you laugh again.

“We’re really messing up our karmas,” he finally manages to say relatively calmly after a couple minutes. He wipes at his eyes quickly and you take the opportunity to do the same.

“I’m so glad you started laughing first,” you take a deep breath, “I thought you’d judge me.”

“Never!” his hand shoots up to clutch at his chest as he acts all offended.

“Are you sure?” you tease, “I’d be very disappointed if that was a lie.”

“My sense of humor is really childish,” he waves you off. His ears look a little red. Soonyoung really is a bit too cute. And you still don’t mind.

“Yeah? Give me your worst joke,” And that challenge is your undoing. 

How you got here, sitting by the river and leaning on Soonyoung because you’re laughing so hard, you have no idea. It’s a blur - and the memory is filled by too many jokes that would just make your cheeks hurt more. He really wasn’t kidding, the jokes are bad. Horrible. Childish. And exactly your taste. And just what you both needed to relax and be comfortable apparently.

Somehow you’re still sitting there when the sky gets dark, just talking. The contrast of before and now is night and day. Suddenly you’re reluctant to leave even though you really should. And your date doesn’t seem too excited about the idea of leaving either - not even after you already scheduled another date.

Although you think just one more won’t be enough.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

I love 'Meme-ing my way to your heart' sm!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Would you consider writing part 2 for it??🥺 Thanks!!!

Meme-ing my way to your heart (Part 2)

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife!reader, feat. Jack

Part 1

hope the second chapter is good enough Xx

________________________________________________________

The paddock hummed with life as you relaxed in the Mercedes hospitality suite, phone in hand, scrolling through the latest batch of Toto-and-Fred memes. The internet had gone wild after last week’s race, and today, they’d reached a whole new level of creativity.

You laughed out loud as you came across one that had you practically in tears. It was a photoshopped image from the now-famous shot of Toto leaning over Fred’s shoulder, looking intensely at a phone screen that another man had been holding. Except this time, instead of the man, it was you—your face was awkwardly slapped over the man’s head. The caption read: 

When you thought you were just a supportive wife, but the fans cast you as the comic relief in Toto and Fred's love story.

Toto walked in, spotting you laughing at your phone. He sighed, already knowing what was coming. "Another one?"

"Oh, this is gold," you said between giggles, holding out the phone. “Look at this!”

Toto took one glance and groaned, though a smile was already tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Are you serious? They've put you in the meme now?"

“Yup!” You beamed. “Apparently, I’m the third wheel now! Look at me—stuck in the middle of the most epic romance of the paddock.”

Toto leaned over, taking the phone from your hand. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, even though his amusement was impossible to hide.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, nudging his arm. “Admit it, you two are the power couple no one saw coming.”

Toto rolled his eyes but chuckled. “I'm going to have a word with Fred about this.”

“You better. At this rate, people are going to think I’m the mistress, and you’re leaving me for Fred.”

Before Toto could respond, Jack came running into the hospitality suite with Lewis and George trailing behind him. Jack’s face was flushed with excitement. “Mummy! Daddy! Uncle Lewis and Uncle George took me to the garages, and I got to sit in the car!”

“Did you?” you grinned, opening your arms to hug him. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah! It was super fast, even though it wasn’t moving!” Jack’s enthusiasm was infectious, and even Toto leaned in to ruffle his son’s hair.

“Looks like you’re training the next generation of drivers, Lewis,” Toto remarked, smiling at the two racers who were chuckling nearby.

“Oh, he’s got talent,” George added, winking at Jack. “We might have to sign him up in a few years.”

“Or sooner,” Lewis said with a smirk. “He’s already faster than half the grid.”

Toto laughed, patting Jack’s back. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

After a bit more chatting, Lewis and George headed back to their prep work, leaving Jack to continue his exploration of the paddock with one of the Mercedes team members.

You couldn’t resist pulling out your phone again. “You know, the internet has more to say on your bromance,” you teased Toto, showing him yet another meme.

Toto looked at the meme and burst into laughter. “Oh my god, they really have too much time on their hands.”

“You’re telling me! You and Fred are practically star-crossed lovers at this point,” you said, leaning closer with a mischievous grin.

At that moment, Fred Vasseur himself walked into your teasing with toto, apparently having just wrapped up a meeting nearby. “Bonjour! I ‘ope I am not interrupting anyzing.”

“Oh no, Fred, you’re just in time!” you said, standing up and waving him over with a grin. “I was just showing Toto how the internet is fully invested in your little… romance.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, glancing from you to Toto with a confused smile. “Romance? With Toto?” His thick French accent made his confusion even more amusing.

You pulled up the latest meme and showed it to Fred, watching his face as he scanned the image of you, Toto, and himself. He let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, I see now! Yes, of course. I ‘ave become ze villain, ‘ave I?”

“Oh no, Fred,” you said with a wink, “You’re the hero of this story. The one who finally steals my husband away.”

Fred grinned, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Ah, so zat’s it! I am ze seducer now?”

“You sure are,” you teased, crossing your arms and tilting your head. “I mean, with all the time you two spend together, it’s only a matter of time before I’m kicked to the curb.”

Toto, shaking his head, pinched the bridge of his nose in mock exasperation. “This has gone too far. Fred, you need to help me get Y/n off my case.”

“Ah, but I cannot ‘elp you, Toto,” Fred said with a grin. “Ze internet ‘as already decided our fate. We are clearly in love.”

Before Toto could respond, Jack came running back into the room, tugging on your sleeve. “Mummy, is Uncle Fred Daddy’s boyfriend?”

The room fell into a stunned silence for half a second before Fred doubled over with laughter, his whole body shaking. “Oh la la, I ‘ave not ‘eard zat one before!”

Toto’s face turned bright red, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to contain his own laughter. “No, Jack. Uncle Fred is not Daddy’s boyfriend.”

Jack looked up at you, confused. “But you said he was stealing Daddy…”

Fred wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “Ah, but zat is a joke, petit. Just a joke.”

You crouched down to Jack’s level, smoothing his hair with a gentle smile. “That’s right, sweetheart. We’re all just teasing.”

Jack looked at Fred with wide eyes. “So you’re not taking Daddy?”

Fred grinned, kneeling down to be at eye level with Jack. “Non, non, petit. Your daddy is all yours.”

Jack nodded, satisfied, before running off to find his next adventure. You and Toto exchanged a glance, both of you shaking with silent laughter.

“I think that’s enough teasing for today,” Toto said with a grin, finally catching his breath.

“Oh no, this is just the beginning,” you replied, slipping your phone back into your pocket with a wink. “But don’t worry, Fred. I’ll fight for him.”

Fred chuckled, patting Toto on the back. “Bonne chance, mon ami. You are in for a long season.”

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 37

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 34, part 35, part 36

The house is quiet when Dustin wakes up. Which isn’t unusual here. With how big the house is, and how little people lived in it, it was always somewhat quiet. But there were more people here than normal, so he was expecting it to be louder.

They must all still be asleep.

He wanders out of the guest bedroom that he claimed for when he stayed over. Down the hall to the guest bathroom. Hearing the gentle snores from Steve’s bedroom. Letting Dustin know that he’s still there.

Wayne bumps into him when Dustin leaves the bathroom. Softly apologizing before shutting the door. The shower starting to run.

Dustin goes to the kitchen. Thinking he could eat some of the cereal that he likes but his mom doesn’t buy that much. A box of it always in Steve’s pantry.

The kitchen’s not empty when Dustin walks in. Nancy sitting at the island, drinking coffee while reading a book.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” he says. Digging through the pantry to find the cereal.

“Me and Robin stayed over last night.”

Dustin’s used to Nancy being a part of his life. He was his best friend’s sister, after all. But that was like a completely different section. Tied to certain places in his life. This was the different sect of his life. Steve and Robin, until spring break, were one half. The party was the other. Now they seem to be coming together a lot more.

Not that he’s complaining. He likes it when the people he loves get along. Act as one big group instead of tiny separate ones. It takes some getting used to.

Robin comes down the stairs when the cereal in Dustin’s bowl gets soggy. Immediately beelining for the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. Making it to her liking. Not saying anything until half of it’s drained.

“The fact that you look that good this early in the morning should be a crime,” she says toward Nancy’s direction.

Nancy who was completely dressed, hair pulled back with some clips. Carefully composed like she always is. While Robin stands in what Dustin’s sure is one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of shorts with the drawstring taken out. Hair tangled and puffy.

“Not my fault you are the worst morning person.”

The minute those words are said, Wayne comes down the stairs, gets himself a cup of coffee, and immediately walks back out again. Nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I can’t be worse than that,” Robin jokes.  

Robin sets her coffee down, going to root around in the pantry before emerging with a pack of strawberry pop-tarts.

“You are not.” Nancy finishes her coffee. Going over to the sink to wash out the mug. “Is Steve still asleep, he’s normally up by now.”

“He was when I left,” Robin mutters over a mouthful of a pop-tart. Too impatient to wait for them both to be toasted. One in the toaster while she eats the other one dry.

Dustin’s stopped questioning why Robin and Steve share a bed sometimes a long time ago. They have some weird friendship that he will never understand.

“I saw him take some migraine pills last night,” she continues. “I think another big one is coming.”

Nancy sighs. “It has been like a month since the last one.”

“Yeah, I just thought it would start getting better again. Like last time.”

“Well last time he wasn’t strangled twice and had to get a blood transfusion.”

Dustin doesn’t always know what’s going on with Steve’s health. Always kept in the dark for longer than he should. Definitely longer than he wants to be. It was something, if he had the direct control over, he would learn about immediately. So he could track it. Know when to chill down and ask someone else for a ride.

But instead, he’s none the wiser about Steve’s migraines. Always missing “the big one” that apparently happens every month. Because no one ever tells him about it until Steve is MIA for a few days. Called off work to sit in his bedroom, alone. No one but Robin coming over to make sure that he doesn’t die.

Which sure, that one makes sense, he guesses. Who else, other than Robin, would do that? Or who would Steve feel comfortable with doing that?

It would just make Dustin feel better if he knew about them. So he wasn’t so out of loop. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore who saw Steve as this badass figure higher than everyone else. He knew that there were debilitating cracks under the surface. Knows that sometimes, Steve can’t be the one to fight.

And that was ok. Someone else could take the load for a while. Watch over everyone. It didn’t need to just be Steve’s job. It could be someone else’s job for a while.

A door creaks open down the hall. Thuds of crutches echoing through. Before a second door opens and shuts.

Eddie was awake. Out of the hospital. Here. It still didn’t feel real.

Dustin finally gets up to pour the tinted milk down the drain and wash out his bowl. Adding it to the dish rack, but not leaving the kitchen. Waiting to see Eddie. Proof that he’s really here.

A few minutes later, Eddie comes down the hall. Wincing slightly with every step. “Morning,” he says with a grunt. Sliding onto one of the barstools.

“Morning,” Nancy replies. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee,” Eddie says almost immediately. “And probably some water, so I can take my meds. Has Wayne been down yet, I’m pretty sure he still has all of them.”

Nancy sets a cup of coffee in front of Eddie. With a small container of sugar and the creamer.

“I can go ask him,” Dustin suggests. Happy to help. Already moving out of the kitchen before anyone can stop him.

Lucky for him, Wayne isn’t hard to find. Halfway down the stairs in different clothes. “You need something?”

“Yeah, Eddie was looking for his meds.”

Wayne nods, turning around and heading back up the stairs. He comes back down with a few brown paper bags, each one with a different slip of paper stapled to the outside. They walk back to the kitchen.

“You need to eat something before you take these,” Wayne cuts to the chase. “Coffee won’t cut it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Hands shaking slightly as lifts the mug to his lips. “What do you have?” he asks in the direction of Nancy and Robin.

“Pop-tarts, cereal, I think some bagels, if not that then toast, fancy jams,” Robin rattles off, the list getting longer.

“Some toast is fine.”

Robin nods. Grabbing some bread from the bag on the counter and popping it in the toaster.

Steve finally makes his way downstairs. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks miserable. He bypasses the group of people in his kitchen, heading straight to the cabinet for a glass. Filling it with water and pulling a pill bottle from his pocket.

Robin gets close to him. Bumping her shoulder against his. Steve shakes his head, slowly. She nods and goes to close the kitchen blinds.

Eddie stares at Steve like he isn’t allowed to look. A mix of concern and confusion in his expression. Only interrupted when Nancy slides the plate of toast to him, asking if he wanted anything on it.

“Robin said there were fancy jams?”

Something reminiscent of a scoff comes from Steve. “They’re not that fancy,” he slurs.

Robin snorts. “It’s not generic. Therefore fancy.”

Nancy pulls out a raspberry jam from the fridge. “My family uses the same kind. It’s not fancy.”

Everyone keeps looking over at Steve. Waiting for him to move. He just stands there, white knuckling the countertop. Robin tries to touch his arm, but he shrugs it off.

“Give it a second,” he mutters under his breath.

She nods again. Pulling more bread out of the bag and sticking it in the toaster. The setting lighter than he normally likes it.

The only sound that happens in the next few minutes is the slight crunch of Eddie eating, and the pop of the toaster. Robin gets some butter out of the fridge and puts some on each slice. Careful not to rip through the pieces.

With a deep exhale, Steve turns around. Leaning against the counter behind him and grabbing the plate she hands him. Ripping apart the toast into small bites.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie looks surprised that he asked him anything. “Good. Much better than a hospital bed. Bigger too, that was nice.”

“Sorry I didn’t have anything better for breakfast. I was planning on making something, but-.” He trails off. The obvious staying unsaid.

“That’s fine. I don’t eat much in the morning’s anyway.”

Steve nods. Placing his plate on the counter. About a half a slice of the toast left. “I won’t be around that much to help you get settled in. I was supposed to close tonight, but I’ll probably end up calling out.”

“If you’re about to apologize for that, don’t.” Eddie stares at Steve with an expression that Dustin can’t quite read. “You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Steve pauses. Taking a second to stop himself, reset what he was going to say. “If you need anything, Rob should know where it is. And if not, I’ll just be in my room.”

All Eddie does is reply with a small nod. Then Steve is walking out of the kitchen with Robin in tow.

(i forgot to post yesterday because i got fixated on a new knitting project, no joke i worked on it for like six hours straight)

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[googleitlol]

Here's one of the two PoM LMK oneshots I wanted to post!

It ended up being 7000+ words help

Dove Masterlist:

Amnesia Rules

How on earth did things end up like this?

You can’t say that it’s often you get to join your friends on these sort of missions. Out of everyone in your little found family, it’s you who usually misses out on all the antics. However, after the Lady Bone Demon took over the city, you didn’t have much of a choice other than to be dragged along.

Though, maybe that isn’t the best way to put it. You would love to join your friends in their hijinks and adventures more often. Hearing about how your friends raced a hot-tempered demon or saved the weather station after the fact always has you feeling a twinge of jealousy, but you never really have the time or get the chance to be a part of those moments. Or rather, you often get held back from doing so. Why? Because of a certain irritatingly cold Monkey King.

Sun Wukong may as well be the greatest enigma in your life, one that continues to leave you perplexed. When the Monkey King first took on your accident-prone friend, MK, to be his successor, the Great Sage mostly kept to himself. Only MK ever saw him– not that you expected this centuries-old demon to integrate into your friend group all that much. You didn’t take him as someone that would leave his island paradise too often.

If you do ever get the chance to see him, the sage was often cold towards you. You’re not sure whether you did something to upset him, or if he just has a stick up his ass, but everytime Monkey King saw you, he’d just become irritated. He usually tenses up and turns away from you, and if he doesn’t flat-out ignore you, he– you’re not even sure what to call it aside from pulling unfunny pranks. Sometimes you would be planning to go visit the others on Sandy’s boat when you’d receive an unexpected call from your boss asking if you could cover someone’s shift. Other times, you’d have to rush home to deal with something broken and leaking in your apartment, leaving MK and the others in the process. It took a little while before learning the reason behind your string of misfortunes was a stone monkey with nothing better to do than waste your time. 

The worst he’s done before was leave you stranded on Flower Fruit Mountain. You were surprised when the Monkey King showed up to your apartment (you’re not even sure how he knew your address), asking for your help in taking care of a sick monkey in Water Curtain Cave. If you knew that the only ones who could let people in or out of the cave were Monkey King and MK, you would have been much more sceptical about his insistence that you were needed there. Why did Monkey King think it would be funny to leave you there while he went on his so-called ‘vacation’? The answer eludes you still. You were stuck living off his half-filled pantry solely made up of peach chips and the stone fruit itself for a week before MK and Tang stopped by for an unrelated reason about some giant dumpling.

You do admit that the break from work was nice, though. Being a paramedic is a stressful line of work, so spending a week void of the usual sirens and severely injured citizens did a lot to help clear your head. If Monkey King wasn’t so difficult to get along with, you could see yourself visiting more often for that peaceful little paradise. You really do wish you could get along with him, MK always made their training sessions sound like so much fun. One day while you were stuck on his island, you came across some origami he had done and in the moment, you thought of how nice it’d be to learn how to do it yourself. Monkey King seemed good at the art, he had an origami character for each of his old companions from the Journey to the West– though there was also a bird character, too. You still aren’t too sure who that could have been.

If you wanted to learn origami though, Monkey King likely wouldn’t be so keen on helping you learn. Not with how much apparent-fun he has in disrupting your day with stunts like that. It has gotten to the point where you barely get to spend much time with your friends. Gah– why does he hate you so much? Does he really have to go out of his way to make you drift from MK and the others? At least he can’t push you away this time, not when that would have meant leaving you to freeze over in the city. None of your friends would have let him do that.

It was pretty evident to everyone that Monkey King was annoyed to have you join them on the quest for the Samadhi Rings. Even his usually starry-eyed pupil felt the need to ask his mentor why your presence put him in such an irritated mood, but the infamous Sun Wukong has never been known for his straight-forward answers. It ticks you off how he dances around questions, especially concerning his apparent hate-boner for you. It isn’t like having you brought along has slowed down the group by any means– if anything, you’ve been great to have around! You have medical training the others don’t, and your years as a paramedic have prepared you for dealing with violent confrontations– running into the middle of a fight is an everyday sort of thing for you.

Even with Monkey King’s cold shoulder he so often gives you, things have been going well for the group as a whole (it also helped that your #1 hater is in the middle of some mystic meditation). That is, until you lost MK, Sandy, and Mei. The second you all realised they were no longer in the van, you pulled over by a cliff to figure out where they might have been left, and that only made things worse. Your group had only been stopped for a minute before a demon charged the van.

You, Tang, Pigsy, Mo, and a vegetable of a Monkey King are boxed in by whatever the hell is outside, scrambling to find a way out of this mess when the noodle chef gets the bright idea to wake up the sleeping sage with a pepper. You aren’t entirely sure how a pepper might wake up the Monkey King when the noise the demon outside is making has done virtually nothing, but then you see the damn thing! The light emanating from it is nearly as bright as the light that bursts from the Great Sage after he wakes up.

He wakes with a shout, jumping out of his seated position he’s spent the last few days in with a cocky grin. “Stand back, Master! Sun Wukong will handle this demon.” He declares loudly before knocking down the back door of the van.

You, Tang, and Pigsy all share a worried look as the Monkey King hops out of the van. Ignoring whatever the hell he just said, it’s a little vexing that he had to kick down the door to the van, though at least now the sage is awake to help take care of whoever is trying to attack you all.

The three of you (plus Mo) follow Monkey King out as he scopes out the area for the demon that was threatening your lives just moments prior. Strangely enough, nobody is there. “Master, it’s safe to come out. You too, Piglet.”

“Master?”

“Piglet?!”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you at Pigsy’s offended look. Monkey King hasn’t necessarily been extremely friendly to anyone during this trip, but calling Pigsy Piglet? That was so unexpected, it was funny. Did that pepper give the Monkey King a sense of humour?

At your reaction, Monkey King stiffens and whips his head over to you. The way his gaze zeroes in on you makes you freeze, especially with how he tenses up. You can’t help but frown a bit at the way he looks at you, worry now taking centre-stage in your mind. What, do you have something on your face? Does he not like the way you laugh now? The way he’s just– staring into your soul– what, did you offend him somehow?? Ugh, he can be so annoying in how he acts sometimes, you don’t understand how that–

“Dove?” Huh?

Monkey King’s voice is suddenly soft, just barely a whisper. With unsure steps, he moves toward you. He’s slow and careful in his movements, like he was approaching some shy woodland creature that would dash into the bushes if he moved too quickly. You share a confused look with your friends, looking between Tang and Pigsy, then down to Mo before returning your worried gaze to the Monkey King. “I’m sorry?”

“Is it really…” He reaches out to hold your face, and you almost swat his hand away. The only thing that makes you hesitate are the tears that start to build in his eyes. His hand is warm, and the strange intimacy of his thumb brushing over your cheek makes them flush a little… What is happening?

Monkey King lets out a breathy laugh, and one of the tears roll down his cheek. “Is it really you??” His smile widens, and all you can do is ponder his question with confusion. What sort of question is that–?

You don’t get  a moment to finish your thought before you’re pulled into a hug so tight, the air pushes out from your lungs. Monkey King holds you close in his arms, his head resting over your shoulder as he sighs with more emotion than you've ever heard from him before. “I don’t understand! How did you– hah, I don’t even care. You’re safe, thank goodness you’re safe.”

The entire time he’s rambling, you look to Pigsy and Tang just to find your own confusion reflected in their eyes. What the hell did that pepper do to him? Give him a new personality?! You feel so taken aback by his sudden new behaviour, you’re not exactly sure how you’re meant to respond to it. “Uh… yeah. I’m safe, I think you scared that demon away–”

You cut yourself off and let out a surprised squeak when the Monkey King starts to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. Red bursts over your face at the sudden physical affection– seriously, what is going on here?! Is this some dream?? Are you on drugs??! Or did you eat that pepper instead of him by accident? Who the hell is this Dove person that Monkey King thinks you are?! You’ve never seen him act this way with anyone before. Hell, you didn’t even take him as much of a touchy guy to begin with! Then again, it isn’t as though you spend enough time with him to really know that.

At this point, Pigsy speaks up. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” He huffs and steps over to break the two of you up. The second he does, Wukong shoots him a look that makes him step back. In a heartbeat, you’re pulled into a closer embrace that puts your face smack-dab in the middle of his chest. How much closer does he want you to be?!

“How long did the two of you know she was okay?! Do you know how much I– gah!” Monkey King looks between Pigsy and Tang, and the hurt in his voice makes you pause in your panic for just a moment, and you feel one of his hands over your head, holding you close. “If you got hurt because of me, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

A chill goes down your spine when he says that. This weird feeling pangs in your chest at those words and a hint of understanding takes over. Carefully, you push yourself away from the sage to give yourself space to breathe. “…Monkey King, who do you think they are?”

The King laughs a little at your question. “Monkey King? What happened to Peaches?”

“Peaches?” You frown, only feeling your confusion grow as the Monkey King mirrors your expression.

Monkey King observes you for a moment, his frown deepening as he grabs you by your shoulders and starts to shake you a little. “Don’t tell me… can you not remember anything?!” Ugh, what does he take you for, a maraca?? You swat the Monkey King off of you to get the shaking to stop and shoot the monkey demon a scowl. This is just great, a pepper broke the Monkey King!

“Your head must’ve gotten hurt when you got hit. I’m so sorry, Dove.” He looks down before taking your hands in his own. “I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to get your memories back.” He declares, and again you find yourself taken aback by his sincerity. You feel so used to Monkey King’s cold demeanour, all of this sudden kindness feels almost overwhelming.

Tang groans to himself a little ways away with Pigsy. “This is why you don’t wake someone up from a transcendental meditation, we broke him!” He stresses to Pigsy, grabbing ahold of his shirt to shake him in a similar fashion as Wukong did to you.

“I’m fine, Master. I haven’t felt this relieved in a while.” Monkey King brushes off Tang’s words before looking back at you. His voice gets low for a moment as he flashes you a smile. “And don’t worry about a thing, Dove, I’m sure we can find some way to jog your memory.” Ha, yup, this is getting out of hand. What, is he flirting now?? From the blush that blooms over your face in reaction to his words, one might think it was working, too.

Before you can let yourself spiral over that any longer, something in your head clicks. “Actually, I think it’s coming back all on its own.” You smile politely at the sage, stepping back a bit to give yourself some space.

His eyes light up at your words. “Really?!”

“Mhm!” You nod, though your smile feels a little strained as you gesture over to Pigsy and Tang. “That’s your companion, Zhu Bajie, and that’s your master, Tang Sanzang, right?”

Monkey King lets out a sigh of relief over that. “Yes! It’s coming back to you.”

Okay… “And, uh, I am…”

“My one and only, Love-Dove.” HUH–??

You choke on air in response to his answer. Okay, that confirms why he’s being like this. He thinks you’re some old girlfriend or something he had during the journey– but what is that godawful nickname?! It takes you a moment to recover from the mental damage that name does to your psyche. “Mmhmm, I think I remember it all now.”

“Thank goodness.” He sighs as he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. Never did you think you’d ever see the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, look so smitten. You admit, your heart stirs a little being under his gaze, but knowing this is the same person that can’t seem to stand you normally, it just feels weird.

Before you know it, he leans in for a kiss and you slip out of his hands before his lips can make contact with your own. “Hahahahaha, anyway, uh… I think I need to ask good ol’ Sanzang a question.” Like what are you supposed to do with him now?? He won’t stay like this forever, will he? What, did that pepper wipe the last five hundred years of his life from his brain?! Oh god, MK is gonna come back from wherever he was left and he’s going to witness his mentor being all mushy with you– you can’t traumatise the poor guy like that!

Sure, you’ll admit that not getting the usual silent treatment from the king is a nice change. Plus it would be hard to deny that the way his voice dropped earlier… it definitely did something for you. And the way he snuggled up into your neck before… but it’s so vastly different from his usual demeanour! The sudden change gives you whiplash.

You’ll be honest with yourself, the very first time you met Sun Wukong, there were definitely some stirred feelings. The moment you saw his eyes, you felt your breath catch in your throat– though the feeling was short-lived after he completely ignored you. It’s a struggle to even think of the two of you as acquaintances, so this sudden change in his behaviour towards you feels so weird!

Leaving Monkey King to huddle up with Tang and Pigsy, you try and figure out what to do with him. Pigsy is the first to start suggesting solutions. “Maybe we handle this like amnesia rules, huh? We just gotta bonk him on his dumb head, and he’ll get back to normal.”

“Or giving him head trauma makes him worse.” You deadpan. “If this is what post-journey Monkey King is like, I don’t wanna know what happens if we accidentally bring back the Sun Wukong that thought he could challenge Buddha.”

Pigsy sighs with a shake of his head. “What, do you got any better ideas? ‘Cause I’m not hearing them.”

“Let’s just not rush into full-on assault, okay?!” You frown, and the noodle chef scoffs.

“Are ya sure you don’t just like him like this? ‘Cause it sure looks like he likes you.” Pigsy crosses his arms with his accusation, raising a brow of suspicion when your face flushes.

You look back at the Monkey King, who’s in the middle of looking for something to use as his staff. Yeah, maybe this version of Wukong is nicer than his usual self, but that doesn’t mean you want him to stay like this! “I– don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment, but I know I’m not damaging MK’s psyche further with this love-sick version of his mentor!”

“Okay, guys,” Tang raises his hands up defensively, “let’s just take a second to calm dOWAHHHHH–” Before the noodle-enthusiast can finish, a clawed hand pulls him back in a sharp motion. Your eyes go wide as your friend gives a panicked shout as he’s pulled up and over the cliff. The demon from before, it never left!

“Master!” Monkey King shouts, as Tang is dragged away by the demon.

Pigsy looks up in shock before turning to you and Monkey King. “We gotta do something!”

“Exactly.” The Monkey King grins with a nod. With a large branch he found in his hand, he looks over to you. “Hop on, Dove.” With his staff/branch, he taps his shoulder and gives you an expectant look.

All you can do is frown as you try to work out what he wants in your head. What, does he want you to sit on him? “…Where?” There’s no way you are balancing on his shoulders.

Monkey King only laughs over your confusion, and he gives you this cute lopsided smile. “Aw, I guess you forgot about your transformation, too. That’s alright!” Without waiting, Monkey King scoops you into his arms and grabs Pigsy with his tail before racing off in the direction the demon took Tang. You’re quick to wrap your arms around his neck for support, and together the three of you bound off.

Huh, for once, Monkey King is carrying you off towards a fight. That’s a new one.

~~~~

By the time you rescue Tang from the demon who took him, Sun Wukong isn’t any closer to remembering anything. Pigsy and Tang wanted to discuss how to get him back to normal without the Monkey King present, and since he’s been sticking to you like glue, you decide to keep him out of the van so they can plan their next move in private.

Seeing this side of him, it feels so bizarre to you. When Monkey King doesn’t hate you, he gives a lot of physical affection, which isn’t something you’re used to coming from him. He’s kept you close during the whole rescue mission and his tail is always on you somewhere, be that hanging lightly around your wrist and sometimes your waist. He even had it coiled around your leg at one point on the walk back to the van while he held your hand.

Monkey King seems so passionate about whoever this person he thinks you are, it makes you wonder why you’ve never heard of this Dove person before. Do you really resemble her enough for Monkey King to mistake you for her? It’s not that hard to see why he thinks Pigsy is Zhu Bajie, and it’s possible that Tang looks similar to the Great Sage’s master, but what are the chances that you also look like an old companion of his?

Well, maybe you could call this Dove person more than an old companion… not with the way he talks about her, at least. Well, the way he talks to you. It’s difficult to believe this is the same Monkey King that’s been so irritated by you this whole time.

“Something on your mind, Dove?” Monkey King pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to face him with a slightly worried look.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m great.” You smile, moving to sit against the rocky cliffside the van is parked by. “Just, uh… tired. We’ve been up all night and I’m pretty tuckered out.”

The sage frowns a bit as you sit, and he becomes uncharacteristically quiet. “I guess sometimes I forget how much rest you need when you’re mortal.” His voice is strangely soft as he joins you in sitting against the cliff. As he sits, he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

Having him like this for the last few hours has done enough to help you adjust to having all this affection come from Sun Wukong, but you still can’t help the blush that forms when he does small things like that. You honestly find it adorable… and so not like the Monkey King you know.

As nice as this sweeter Monkey King is, you can’t help but frown when you see his expression fall a bit. “…I really thought you had died during the separation. I messed up and you paid for it, again.” There’s a sharp pang in your heart as he speaks. The regret in his voice… it makes it hard for you to look him in the eyes, and it’s hard not to feel sorry for the Monkey King. Sure, he’s relieved now because he thinks you– well, this Dove person is okay now… but that’s not you. Whoever this Dove person is, she must have really…

He looks to the ground, his eyes sombre. “It’s like I always find some way to hurt you without realising it. First it was the peaches, now this…” A heavy weight drops in your stomach, and you can’t help feeling horrible for Sun Wukong. It seems like he really loved her. Losing that sort of love can’t be easy for anyone, especially when they seem to blame themself for it the way Wukong seems to do.

Your hand is still in his, so you give it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey.” You smile and tilt your head a bit to the side and wait for him to meet your gaze. “If I really thought all my bad luck came from you, I would have gone running a while ago. But I’m still here, aren’t I? You can’t blame yourself for every bad thing that happens to me.”

You’re not really sure what you’re saying, it just comes out like an impulse. Despite his usual attitude, you can’t help but want to comfort him. You suppose this amnesia-Wukong has been nothing but sweet to you, and you’ve never seen him open up like this before.

His frown only deepens at your response, and he leans back against the cliff with a sigh, his eyes towards the dawn. “How can I not? Every time you get hurt, it’s because I took away your chance at immortality. If you die, it will be because I was stupid and impulsive and ruined your life before I even met you.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

Okay, so there’s a lot more to this than you thought. You’re quiet for a little, and sit back to watch the sunrise with Wukong as you think of what to say. The way he talks, it’s like he carries so much guilt over this person. How can you act as though you need to take on so much responsibility for someone like that? Though, if what he says is true, you find it a little hard to believe this ‘Dove’ could put whatever anger they held for Wukong aside. She apparently did more than put that anger aside, seeing how he acts around you.

Maybe that’s it, then. “I’m not sure you’re right about that.” You hum, bumping your shoulder against his lightly. “I mean, I don’t think I’d be calling anybody something as cute as Peaches if I thought they ruined my life.” You can feel his eyes on you as you continue.

“Maybe things started out messy, but where are we now?” You look back at him, barely able to even notice your hand sliding up to hold the side of his cheek until you’ve done it. “Does Dove– I mean, do I love you, Sun Wukong?”

It’s hard to read his face when you do that. His brows furrow and lips part slightly, on the verge of saying something that never leaves his mouth. It takes a second before his expression softens and he looks down with a small scoff. A smile worms its way onto his face as he leans into your touch and raises his hand to curl over your wrist. He gently moves your hand down to rest over his lips, where he places a kiss on the centre of your palm. “Yes, you do.”

His voice gets low as he answers, and you feel your cheeks flushing for the nth time since this entire amnesia-mess started. Whoo, you shouldn’t feel this hot when the sun isn’t fully risen yet. Flustered, you quickly pull your hand away and let out a quiet, albeit awkward, laugh. “Then how could my life be such a mess when someone I love is in it?” You shrug, looking anywhere but his direction as he goes quiet again.

Just as you’re thinking of some way to shift the conversation to something less personal and relationship-focused, Sun Wukong lets out a long sigh. “Jeez, Dove, you can’t just say stuff like that to me.” You can hear the grin in his voice, and before you know it, hands wrap around your waist and pull you onto Wukong’s lap.

“Master wouldn’t mind if we leave for a bit, right?” Wukong hums against the back of your neck, the touch pushing your heart to beat out of your chest. He presses a kiss against your collarbone and your breath hitches. “We could go for a little flight on our own for a bit…”

Never in your life have you jumped up to stand so quickly. “Hah! I don’t think that’s so, um…” The tingly heat from your cheeks has engulfed your face at this point. “…we probably shouldn’t– y’know… wow, it’s a little hot this morning, isn’t it?”

The entire time you struggle to find your words, Wukong has the biggest smirk on his face. “You’re right, it is kind of hot.” He agrees, joining you in standing up before untying the blue scarf that sits around his neck. “I’ve gotta find some way to cool down.”

Before you know it, the mischievous mystic monkey is slipping off his shirt. In an instant, the article of clothing is dramatically thrown to the side for Sun Wukong to show off his exposed torso. The ironically peach-shaped area of fur on the upper centre of his chest catches your eyes first, but that doesn’t last too long before your gaze begins to wander. The baggy sleeves of his shirt seem to hide his well-defined arms, his chest is broad and his stomach looks soft. It doesn’t take much for you to imagine how it’d feel to lay down with him and rest your head over him– nO, no no no! Don’t, no! The last thing you should be thinking about is cuddling up with this stupid flirty amnesiac!

It doesn’t help that the sage isn’t too shy about showing off, flexing his muscles while shooting you with a wide grin. “Wukong!” You look at him with wide eyes, unable to turn away. Never, never did you think you’d see the day where Monkey King would rip his shirt off in front of you to– what do you even call this?! Some birds of paradise mating ritual he decided to start doing?!

Wukong wiggles his eyebrows a bit, the look on his face shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing, but his voice remains innocent. “What, like what you see?” He prods, and you can’t stop the giggles that start erupting as he continues his little ‘gun show’. Jeez, this is so ridiculous! What is he thinking?!

You finally manage to turn away and bury your face into your hands. It’s impossible to stop the grin that’s wormed its way onto your face now, but you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his little stunt is affecting you. You aren’t used to this, was he always this much of a flirt with Dove? Part of you wonders how she managed to keep herself together, you can barely keep a straight face with the way Wukong is acting now.

The moment he notices your averted gaze, you can hear him laugh. “No, no, no, no, don’t hide. I’m putting on a show for you!” He exclaims, and you jump a little when you feel his hands over your wrists.

Wukong pulls your hands away from your eyes, giving you full-view of his chest in your face. Just like that, you’re reduced to a flustered mess, tugging desperately at your arms to get away from this immovable flirt. The bashful smile on your face refuses to leave, no matter how much you want to hide it from him. “Oh my gosh, stop it!”

“You’re looking a little flushed there, Dove. Need any help cooling off?” Wukong pulls you closer while leaning in, his half-lidded eyes brimming in mischief. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s loving every second of it. Both of your laughter fills the air as you shoot one another a playful look, and just for a moment, you find yourself wishing Sun Wukong could always be like this. Fun and teasing, warm and loving.

But you doubt Monkey King will be like this when he gets his memories back, so you might as well enjoy this while it lasts. “If anyone needs cooling off, it’s you.”

“Are you saying I should take off more–”

“No!”

Gah, it’s like he wants you to be reduced to a puddle! You shake your head as quickly as you can, and Wukong huffs out a laugh. “Nope, not at all. Keep your clothes on, Wukong.” As you call him by his name, his expression drops a little, and you quickly backtrack. “I mean, Peaches.”

It’s cute to see how quickly he perks up over your use of the nickname, his smile like a sunbeam so warm it wakes the butterflies in your stomach.

Wukong pulls you into his arms, and you can’t help but melt into the hug as you return it. His skin is warm to the touch, the fur over his back and the tuft on his chest is as soft as what you imagine his somersault cloud to be. It takes every ounce of your being not to overthink how you’re against his bare chest, but dammit it’s nice! You can be sued for liking it, you don’t care.

Sun Wukong hums with content. “Ever since the day you returned my feelings, I’ve started each morning with a lighter heart.” Your eyes widen a bit at his words, and your head rests on him while he continues “Having you with me has made even my darkest days bright. Whether you use your gift or not, all I have to do is look into your eyes to put my worries to rest.”

Gift? Is he talking about your healing touch? But he thinks you're this Dove person, doesn’t he? There’s no way she could have had the same soothing abilities that you have… right?

Your thoughts aren’t given the chance to wander as Wukong continues, and a finger hooks under your chin to guide your gaze up to his own. “I can’t know how the future will unfold or what it holds, but what I can be certain of is that I want you in it. A thousand and one lifetimes is not enough to spend with you, My Dove.”

Your heart skips a beat at those words, his eyes never leaving yours the entire time he pours out his love to you. Since when could Sun Wukong be this eloquent?? What, did he have that prepared?! It’s not hard for you to see why this Dove person loved him so much, every other thing he’s done since eating that pepper has made you want to swoon. Wukong… he really loved this person. More than you ever could have guessed.

His mention of her gift nags at your mind, and you can’t help it when your brows furrow. What are the chances this person that was so close to Sun Wukong in the past had the same abilities as you. Not only that, but you’re similar enough for a Monkey King-amnesiac to mistake you for–

“What the hell is going on out here?!”

The microsecond you hear Pigsy’s voice is the moment you launch yourself away from Monkey King. Standing just outside of the van is Pigsy and Tang, and your face– that had just started to return to its normal shade– bursts into flame again. It suddenly feels like you’ve been caught red-handed, cuddling up with the Monkey King. How long have they been there?! “We weren’t doing anything!”

Sun Wukong lets out an annoyed sigh at the interruption and rests his hands on his sides. “Not anymore, we’re not. You sure you don’t wanna find somewhere more private, Dove?”

“Private?!” Tang looks between the two of you with wide eyes while Pigsy’s arms cross, and the desire to burn into a crisp from embarrassment grows with every second that passes.

The noodle chef pauses for a moment when he looks over at the topless Wukong. “Where did your shirt go?!” “We’ve gotta get him back to normal, fast!” Tang panics before making a mad dash away. “I’ll get the boulder.”

That snaps you out of your embarrassment. “Boulder?”

“It’s nothing, but I better go and help him.” Pigsy sighs before running after the scholar.

You guess they’re going with their head trauma plan after all. There isn’t much else you can think of to bring Monkey King’s memories back, and you suppose getting hit in the head can’t do too much damage to someone who’s already immortal. Still, if this works, this might be the last time you see him like this.

Turning your attention back to Wukong, you offer the sage a small smile. “Um… I just wanna say, uh, I’m glad you’re here, Peaches. It’s nice knowing you’re here with me.”

Wukong returns your smile and takes a step towards you to hold your hands in his. “It would take another one of Buddha’s mountains to tear me away from you.” His words make your heart flutter, never have you heard him so sincere in the time you’ve known him. The way his eyes look into your own do little to help, those golden irises taking in every feature of your face.

It takes you a minute to pry your gaze from his, and you let go of his hands to quickly step away to clear your throat. It feels like you could get lost in those eyes if you look into them long enough. “Anyway, we should really focus on the task at hand. We’ll need to find the others before we keep looking for the three Samadhi Rings.”

“Four rings.”

“Huh?” Four? What does he mean, four?

Before you can get your answer, a falling boulder crushes Sun Wukong, shaking the ground as it collides with the king. You jump back with a start before looking up to the top of the cliff where Pigsy and Tang look over its edge. Jeez, what is with their horrible timing?! It’s one thing for them to walk in on you hugging a shirtless Monkey King, but what the hell was he saying before they crushed him?? Was he confused? What did he mean by four rings?!

You aren’t given the chance to spiral before the boulder cracks open, and out jumps the Great Sage with a shout. The Monkey King looks up with wide eyes and a burst of flames erupts from his mouth. By the time the fire stops, the sage looks around in confusion before his eyes land on you. The second your eyes make contact, his gaze hardens. Guess that means he’s really back.

Monkey King looks down to his exposed chest, and his frown deepens. You can only just notice a dust of pink over his cheeks as he looks back up at you. “…Where’s my shirt?”

His voice is indifferent, and it takes you a minute before answering. “Uh, I think you threw it over there.” You point over to where the shirt lays, discarded on the ground.

“Thanks.” He turns away rather quickly, moving to retrieve the garment and slip it back on. His back faces you as he finds his scarf and begins tying it back on while your two friends make it back down the cliff.

Pigsy seems relieved to find a fully clothed Monkey King once they get back to you, though Tang stays cautious. “Did it work?”

You don’t turn to look at your friends to answer them, your gaze focused on the Monkey King as he finishes tying the scarf around his neck. That cold air you feel so accustomed to has returned. You try not to sound too deflated in your response. “…Yep, it worked.”

After Pigsy and Tang inform Monkey King of the eventful events of the night, you all find yourself in the van on the move once more. You still have your friends to find, on top of the Samadhi Rings– however many there are. You have an itch that wants to confront Monkey King on that, though you aren’t sure he would give you a straight answer anymore.

Pigsy is driving with Tang in the passenger’s seat up front, leaving you in the back with Mo in your lap and Monkey King sitting in the middle of the van, reading over one of MK’s books he made about his mentor and his adventures. An awkward air hangs between the two of you again, and you can’t help but hate it. Seeing this side of him again is so jarring after spending the last few hours with such a sweeter and caring Sun Wukong.

After a while, it’s hard to sit in this cold air any longer. Setting Mo down, you get up to walk over to the king. His head snaps up as you approach, and you almost flinch at his narrowed gaze. Despite the ‘subtle’ undertone of annoyance in his eyes, you gesture down to the book. “I don’t think MK ever wrote down any stories that had Dove in them.” As you speak, you crouch down to sit with him.

“What?” The name makes his frown deepen, and you try your best to give him a friendly smile.

“It’s what you were calling me.” You explain, the Monkey King’s frown fading when you do. Instead, his face twists with something akin to cringe. You barely catch the pained look in his eyes before he looks away.

His hand raises up to his temple with a groan. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been– uggh.” He grumbles under his breath, and you feel bad for bringing up the name at all. Monkey King’s posture stiffens as his other hand reaches up to support his head, he looks uncomfortable now. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad in any way.

Your hands shoot up to wave in defence. “It’s okay! It was kind of cute, if I’m being honest.” The words sort of fall from your mouth, you don’t know what else to say when Wukong… he just looks in pain. His eyes are focused on the book in his lap, so concentrated, you’re surprised his laser-eyes haven't burned through it yet. “…Maybe it’s just me, but I think whoever she was, she was lucky to have someone like you by her side.”

That gets him to give you a sharp scoff. “You’re right, maybe it is just you.”

His tone takes you aback, and your surprise is quickly replaced with a frustrated huff as you rise back to your feet. “Sure, maybe it is.” You just wanted to make him feel better, to try and move past that sour attitude he only has with you. You turn to walk away, if he doesn’t want you around, you won’t bother him anymore.

“Wait.” You stop as he calls after you, something urgent in his voice makes you freeze. When you look back at him, his hands are in his lap, clenched into fists. His eyes can’t meet yours, still focused on the book under him. “I’m sorry, that was rude.” You look down at the Monkey King, your brows furrowed as you observe him, still as stone. Even without him meeting your gaze, you can recognise the hurt in his expression.

Looking at him now, it feels as though there’s a new perspective for all of Monkey King’s past actions against you. His words from this morning echo in your mind. His declaration of love, regrets over whatever… however this Dove met her end. “I don’t know what happened. But whatever it is you’re blaming yourself for, I don’t think she’d hold it against you, Peaches.”

The name slips before you can catch it, and Monkey King’s eyes shoot up to yours before you can correct yourself. “I mean, Monkey King. Sorry.” You look away quickly– he’s obviously hurting, why would you say that right now?!

“I don’t…” You barely catch his mumbling, and you slowly look back to see his eyes looking to the side. There’s a light blush over his face as he coughs into his arm. “I don’t mind being called Peaches.”

Something deep in your chest stirs, you’re not sure you’ve seen Wukong look… flustered? It makes you smile a little, and when he catches your gaze, he smiles back.

He’s okay with the nickname, you’ll have to keep that in mind.