#but anyway obviously the best thing to do is just scroll

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIX: Could You Blame Me?

masterlist | playlist | pin | prev. | read on ao3 | read bee's diary

songs for this chapter: nineteen tegan and sara (covered by hayley williams), nineteen by movements, your graduation by modern baseball, wishing (you) well by born without bones

chapter tags: ANGST GO CRAZY AHHH, hurt/no comfort (yet), ex best friends, rage!!!!, described symptoms of depression (not eating, over sleeping, isolation, crying, more anger), flashback/time jumps, barely proofread sorryyyyy. please let me know if i missed anything! | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | REMINDER: THIS FIC IS RATED EXPLICIT. 18+ mdni.

a/n: uhhhh here u go here’s some lore for u! enjoy. this chapter was so difficult to write bc i had the ideas but i had to make it Make Sense and that is way harder than it sounds. back to regularly scheduled storytelling shortly! thanks for reading! 

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, my tumblr and ao3 are the only account that feature and contain this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r @justalotoffanfiction @bl0ssomanddie @eddiesgirl1944 @longlivedelusion @aliensfeltmyjoy

–

Five Years Ago

The August sun beats down on the world outside, but you’re stuck within your own rain cloud, blankets pulled over your head despite the heat. You haven’t moved since you got home yesterday. Obviously, Chris had lost his trial, after two weeks of back and forth, they had come to the decision. He would have lost anyway, you know that, but remembering the series of events makes your blood boil.

Eddie had taken the stand, given a recount of the day’s events in excruciating detail. You had watched in horror as he spoke, stoic as he was cross examined, even claiming Chris had convinced him to participate. Eddie, who you had considered your best friend until about a year ago, when he’d decided your older brother was more the type of person he wanted to be around.

“Bee, honey? You want some breakfast?” Your mother has cracked open your bedroom door, poking her head in as if approaching a wounded animal. 

“No.” Your response is muffled by your pillows, but you hear her sigh, so you know she’d heard you. 

“Okay. Try to eat something soon, though. Please.” You know it’s not fair, shutting her out like this. Her pain is probably one million times worse, watching her son be sent away as her daughter drifts in and out of consciousness with the grief. You can only imagine her inner monologue these last few weeks, trying to keep it together for your sake while you break down. But it’s not enough for you to peel the sheets back and leave the bed. Not yet.

Robin and Steve have each called you several times since yesterday, causing you to turn your phone off entirely. You know everyone’s talking about it, considering this trial is the biggest thing to happen in Hawkins since the lab explosion when your parents were in high school, and you can’t bear to scroll your feeds right now. Your head hurts from the crying, and your bed sheets are soaked through with your tears. Maybe it’s not fair wallowing like this, but it doesn’t feel right to continue like nothing’s wrong. 

The bigger pain, though, comes from the fact that Eddie hasn’t called at all. It’s been a year, and he hasn’t let himself be alone in the same room as you, let alone reply to your texts. It’s like you’ve had a limb ripped off, and you’re just expected to carry on like nothing’s changed. 

–

It’s a full week before you can even leave your house, and it still hurts like hell. You clock the looks from your neighbors, the ones of pity and disgust, like somehow you’d had a hand in your brother’s bad decisions. Mothers shield their kids as you walk by, just trying to order your coffee without bursting into tears because the cashier’s name is Chris. Once he’s handed you your coffee. You take a seat by the window, cracking open the book you’d been trying to read for months now without much luck.

“Hey, kiddo.” The voice is gruff, gravelly with age. You’ve only been sitting here a few minutes, your hopes of being approached shattered when you realize he’s talking to you.

“Chief Hopper?” You look up at the aging man, brown hair sprinkled with gray streaks. 

“Ah, just call me Jim. Haven’t been chief in a long time. May I?” He points to the seat opposite you, and you nod, unsure of how to tell him you’d rather be alone. “I’m sorry about your brother, Bee. I wish I had been there.” 

“It’s alright.” You’re not sure what else to say.

“No, it’s not. We both know they’d been after Chris since he was a kid. Eddie, too.” He’s hunched over the small table, like he’s afraid of being overheard. 

“Look, Ch- Jim. I don’t really wanna talk about what could have been done about my brother going to jail. I have spent the last year wondering if I could have stopped it, or if anyone else could have. It doesn’t solve anything.” You don’t mean to sound so harsh, but you’re tired of having the whole town shoving their noses where they don’t belong.

“Understood. If you or your mom need anything, though, feel free to call me. Deal?”

You sigh. “Sure, okay.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but his phone starts ringing in his chest pocket. “Sorry, I gotta take this real quick.” He gets up from his seat and walks out of the cafe, once again leaving you alone to dwell on all the what-ifs. Unfortunately, Hopper takes his call directly on the other side of the massive window you’re sitting next to, and you can hear every word on his side of the conversation.

“Kid, I don’t know what to tell you. You made the choice. There’s only so much I can do to keep you both out of a cell. He didn’t wanna listen, you did. That’s the difference.”

He paces as whoever’s on the other line replies, his face worn and tired. 

“No, I don’t think it was what you said. They’d made their case already, and it wasn’t really a chance of whether he was going or not, but how long he’d go for.” More pacing. 

“Yeah, I talked to her. She’s alright, considering. Definitely pissed off, and I don’t blame her.”

You decide, before that conversation is over, to get up and leave. You can figure out who he’s talking to, what he’s talking about, rather easily. However, you have no desire to wait around and hear if you’re right, so you shove yourself from the seat and leave the cafe without letting Hopper know.

–

You get in your car and drive. You have no destination in mind, no plans of where to escape to or how long you’ll be out, so you just tell your mother you’re going to Robin’s for the night.

“Okay, sweetie. Call me if you need anything?”

“Yup.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and slam the door behind you. Once you’re in your car, down the street, and eventually out of Hawkins, you turn your music as loud as it will go, and scream until your throat is raw. Lyrics you’d never want to relate to now feeling like you’d written them yourself, and the breeze is warm on your tear stained face. After what must have been hours weaving through the lanes as you shrieked up and down the interstate, you still end up where you always do. Taking the road back through town and into the woods, concrete turns to unpaved gravel the deeper in you get.

Lover’s Lake is always crowded in the summer, but everyone must be home by now. It’s getting dark, and the mosquitos are coming out in swarms. As you exit your car, you hear the hum of crickets and cicadas, but there’s something else, an unexpected tune being played nearby. It’s definitely not playing from a speaker, the music’s too clear; the strum of an acoustic guitar. Something deep inside your chest tells you exactly what you’re going to find if you follow it.

Obviously, you follow it anyway, passing the lake down a footpath made from years of being stomped on. Eventually you turn a corner, finding the warm glow that matches the sound of the guitar. Your steps come to a halt as you continue listening, waiting for the voice to accompany the strings. You already know what it will sound like, how the words will leave his mouth and go straight to your brain, leaving no room for a logical thought beyond Holy shit.

“Too old to learn new tricks I need a new fix

I need a stimulus, I need a paycheck

And a brand new deck and some new kicks,”

You slide down the tree you’ve hidden behind, careful not to make a sound even as the bark scratches your back through your thin t-shirt. You hadn’t heard Eddie sing in a year, possibly even longer at this point. Corroded Coffin announced a hiatus shortly after Chris’s arrest, and you hadn’t listened to any of their music since, let alone spoken to Eddie at all. His voice had disappeared from your life, along with the rest of him. Once you’d graduated, it was like he had forgotten about you. He’d barely called, and every time he had been to your house or the bar was to see Chris, and he never stayed to chat. 

Now, listening to him sing, you lose your composure, stifling the sobs with your fist, tears you somehow still have to shed streaming down your cheeks. You have to leave. Now. After a few more agonizing seconds while you gather your breath, you finally stand up and prepare to bolt back from where you came, but you’re sabotaged by a stray branch in your path, cracking as you step directly on it. The strumming stops, and you’re frozen where you stand as you wait to be caught spying.

“Hello?” Eddie calls out into the settling darkness, and you cringe. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.” His voice cracks, like he’s been crying too, and it makes you want to turn around, walk right up to him like you could have a year ago, and wrap yourself around him. You could cry together, then figure out what to do. You could get your best friend back.

But that is not your choice to make; he’s the one that left you alone. He made that decision for both of you, and you can’t be the one to fix that, especially now, so you take another step towards the path without answering him. He doesn’t start playing again, and the glowing of the fire disappears, sizzling as Eddie puts it out. Before you even bother to check if he’s following you, you’re sprinting back to your car. You hadn’t noticed it coming in– you’d been too frazzled to even lock your car–  but Eddie’s van is parked directly on the other side of the dirt lot. You can’t help slapping your hand to your forehead as you mumble, “So fuckin’ stupid!” yanking your driver’s side door open and slamming it behind you. 

You’d left your phone in your car on purpose, knowing eventually Robin, Steve, and your mom would catch on that you’re not with any of them. Of course, you’d been right. 

bobbins: missed call (27) stevie: missed call (26) mama: missed call (34) bobbins: i swear to god im gonna call jim stevie: bee, please pick up. We’re all worried sick mama: baby, please give me a call back…. I cant lose both my babies…!!

You groan, tapping the screen to call your mom back as you start your car. 

“Bee?!” She shouts when she picks up, barely letting it ring.

“Yeah, mom. I’m okay.”

“Honey, I was worried sick! Robin came over to check on you, she said you never had plans today. We called everyone we know trying to find you!”

“Mom, relax. I went for a drive. I’m at Lover’s Lake right now, I can be home in half an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call us back?”

You sigh. “Turned my phone off, wanted to be alone.”

You can hear your mother mirror your own sadness, and it stings. “Okay, honey. I understand. Just, please don’t scare us like that again, okay? Usually I don’t need to worry about you so much, but we’re all kinda…” She trails off.

“I know. I’m sorry, I should have told you the truth. I didn’t really know where I was going ‘til I got there.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Get home safe.”

“Love you, Mama.”

“Love you.”

–

Steve’s car is parked on the street in front of your house when you pull into the driveway. The sun is gone, along with any semblance of energy you’d had today. Seeing your home, and knowing Chris won’t be behind its front door, is not something you see yourself getting used to any time soon.

You cross the threshold into the front room, taking off your shoes, now caked in the dirt of your earlier travels. 

“Bee? That you?” Robin’s here, too. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Your words come out shaky, barely audible if Robin hadn’t already been five feet away. 

“Hi, Beebs.” She wraps herself around you, and you let yourself melt into the hug. Another pair of arms wraps around you from behind, and you settle into the weight of your best friends. 

“I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The apology is muffled by Robin’s shoulder, but you feel them tighten around you, showing they’d heard you.

–

Steve’s on the phone in your kitchen the next morning. You stop before entering, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Yeah, she’s home. Said she was in the woods or something. No, she’s fine. Why?” You can hear the anxiety buzzing through the line, but you can’t make out who it belongs to. “Look, you could have–” He’s cut off. “Oh, whatever, dude.” And with that, He’s hanging up, slamming his cell on the counter.

“Who was that?” You ask, like you’ve only just arrived downstairs.

“What? No one. Dustin.” He gives you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. 

“I don’t have the energy to ask you why you’re lying to me right now.” You shake your head, walking past him to pour yourself a cup of coffee. “Just know, I know you’re lying.”

He nods, like he’s willing to accept it if it means you won’t ask him again. And you don’t. “You didn’t have to sleep here, by the way. I know your bed is much more comfortable than my couch.” 

“Yeah, just didn’t feel like driving Robin home, then back to my house on the other side of town.”

You nod. “Right, yeah. You didn’t have–”

“Bee, I don’t have to do anything. I know! You’ve proven that for the past week and a half when you disappeared from our lives!” 

“I did not! Forgive me for missing my brother, how dare I grieve in a way that doesn’t suit you!” You don’t mean it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“You’re not grieving, Bee. You’re disappearing. You look awful, I know for a fact you’ve barely eaten since you got the trial date. You haven’t been out with us in months, even before we’d known for sure what was going to happen.” His words click together suddenly, and you realize exactly what he’s saying. You’d done what Eddie had to you. You’d ghosted your friends without an explanation, and hurt them in a way you’d never meant to. 

“Shit, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

His face softens as he examines yours. “No, no. I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.”

“No,” You sniffle, “That was more than fair. You’re right, I’ve been a shitty friend. There’s no excuse.” You leave your spot across the kitchen, approaching Steve with your arms open. He returns the hug, wrapping his own arms around your shoulders as yours find his waist. 

“Are we hugging again?” You hear Robin’s bare feet patter across your kitchen floor, then her weight on yours as she joins the huddle. 

–

Present Day

Your head’s fuzzy and throbbing when you wake up. The apartment is relatively tidy, and you thank god you’d been able to do it while drunk instead of hungover. You realize you’d somehow made it to Steve’s bed, but Steve is nowhere to be found; the other side of the bed is instead occupied by a head of messy curls cascading down pale, inked shoulders. Panicked, you recall the events of last night. Unable to, you peek under the covers. Eddie’s wearing pants, and you’re fully dressed. You don’t feel any different, and you’re sure you would if you’d–

“You awake?” He interrupts your thoughts before they can get too dirty.

“Yeah, just woke up. Why are you in here?”

“Because I had to carry you. Again.”

“Fuck!” You groan, and wince at the sound of your own voice. “What did I do?”

He chuckles, turning to face you. “Honestly? Nothing. Was kinda cute, actually.”

“Edward Munson if you don’t tell me what happened right this second I’ll–,”

–”

“You’ll what? Bite me?”

“Wh– No? Why would I do that?”

“He yanks his free arm from under the comforter. “Because you did already.” And sure enough, there are teeth marks etched into the flesh of his forearm. “I was super drunk, though, I barely felt it.”

“Why the fuck did I bite you?”

“I asked you to.”

“Now I’m confused.”

“Listen, I was not in the mind to take care of you last night. Clearly, we were fucking around, because,” He nods to your shoulder, “It looks like I got you back.” 

Confused, you bring your opposite hand to your shoulder, and feel the bumps and ridges of what must be Eddie’s own teeth. “What the fuck?” You find yourself asking this question a lot lately. 

Eddie bursts out laughing, and you can’t help but join him. It’s absolutely absurd, but it makes sense to you anyway. You’d both always been pretty hands on with each other before, well, everything, and you’d both consumed an insane amount of alcohol last night. It only tracks that you’d slip back into old habits. 

“Are we gonna have to explain this to them?” You jerk your thumb at the door.

“God, I really fuckin’ hope not.” He snickers, eyes drifting from your face to your shoulder. “Kinda wish I remembered doin’ it, though.” He says it mostly to himself, like he’s trying to remember what you’d tasted like. You find yourself wondering the same thing, if he’d made a noise as you’d sunken your teeth in, if he’d thrown his head back in pain or something else. You try to remember what it had felt like, but everything’s too far away.

He clears his throat, and you snap your eyes back to his face. “Anyway, breakfast?”

You nod, feeling the warmth in your face start to subside. 

“Ahem.” Eddie clears his throat as the two of you step into the kitchen. “Whatcha whisperin’ about?” Steve and Robin had clearly been in the middle of gossiping at the kitchen counter as you and Eddie approach, each snatching a breakfast sandwich wrapped in foil that Steve had already made the trip for.

“Secrets don’t make friends, y’know!” You tease, sliding onto the stool next to Robin. Eddie takes the one opposite you, unwrapping his own sandwich. 

“Uh,” Steve looks to Robin for help, but she only shakes her head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. I’ll get it out of her later.” You snicker, taking a bite of your greasy sausage-egg-and-cheese. Turns out, it’s exactly what you needed to remember the events of last night, the alcohol being absorbed by the food entering your stomach.

–

Last Night

You stumble around, picking up stray bottles and cans as the music continues thudding through surround sound speakers, accompanied by someone’s drunken vocals. Eddie follows with a garbage bag, giggling as you try to collect more recyclables in your already full arms.

“Quit laughin’ and help me!” You whine, dropping a Miller Lite can on the floor. 

You go to pick it up, but Eddie’s just as quick, fingers brushing yours as he grips the can in his fist. “You just told me to help. Now let me.” For being drunk, he’s still awfully put together. Unfortunately, you cannot relate, a mess of giggles and buzzing skin as Eddie looks at you with his stupid, crooked smile. 

“Stop it.” The command comes out weak, shy, and you barely recognize yourself. 

“Stop what?”

“I don’t know. Bein’ cute. Given’ me cute aggression.”

“Cute aggression?” He repeats, shaking his head. “Don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s like, y’know when you see a really cute baby? Or a puppy, or Ethel! Your cat! And you just wanna, like, eat it?”

“Bee, sweetheart, I think that’s just you.”

“No, you know what I’m talking about.” 

“So, you wanna eat me? Right now?” He smirks, like he’s got you stumped.

But you only shrug. “Maybe.” His eyes widen, and you cackle. “Maybe not eat eat. But I definitely wanna bite you.”

“Okay… Go ahead.”

You raise your eyebrows at his challenge. “Excuse me?”

“You can bite me. Here,” He holds out his arm. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I get to bite you back.”

Normally, you’d stop it here. You’d laugh the whole thing off, and change the subject. Normally, you’re not six drinks deep at the best party of the year, though. “Okay.”

“Seriously?”

You nod. “Why not?” And before he can retract the offer, you lean forward and sink your teeth directly into the flesh of his forearm. Not too hard, not for too long, but just enough to satisfy this weird, drunken urge to take a bite of your estranged friend. He winces, but more so in shock than in pain, breathing heavily through his nose. 

You pull back, smacking your lips together playfully. “Little salty.”

He snorts. “Whatever, your turn.” He reaches for your arm, but you stop him. “Wait.”

“You can’t chicken out now!” He accuses.

“First of all, I could if I really wanted to. But I’m not. Just… Not the arm.”

“Okay… Then where?”

You tug the fabric of your dress off your shoulder and tap the top. “Here. I’ll be able to hide it better.” Really, you just want him to bite your neck, but this is as close as you’ll get. 

“Um, right. Okay.” Suddenly, he’s less cocky, less confident as he approaches you. You toss your head to the side, giving him the room to place his head. You can feel his breath, hot on your skin before finally sinking his teeth into your skin. The noise that slips from your throat is embarrassing, and completely out of your control: a breathy moan poorly disguised with a yelp of falsified pain. He doesn’t fall for it, though, snickering as you exhale heavily, the sharpness of his teeth sending a fire through your veins the alcohol can’t stave off. 

After what you’d describe as an eternity, you’re free from his mouth, the only reminder being a dull throbbing in your shoulder.

“Well?” Your voice squeaks as you ask the question, but Eddie has the grace not to point it out.

“Sweet as I imagined.” He winks, picking up the trash bag he must have dropped. Your knees wobble as he makes his way past you, shoulder brushing your newly marked one as he collects the rest of the trash from the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble, hands sliding down your face, willing the blush to fade. 

–

Present Day:

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie’s gone home, and you’re pacing the living room floor as Robin and Steve exchange knowing, conniving smiles. “And you both watched the whole thing? Without stopping me?!” 

Robin had just finished filling in your black spots, and you feel like you’re about to throw up. 

“Well, I mean, what was I supposed to do?”

“Literally anything!” It’s not her fault, but who else are you supposed to rely on in your drunken times of need? “You could’ve interrupted, woulda saved me an immense amount of embarrassment right now.” 

She snickers, and you have to fight the urge to glare at her. “Okay, next time I’ll make sure to intervene.” “There better not be a fucking next time!” You exclaim, borderline hysterical. “He’s gonna think he has a chance with me or something.”

“Right… and that’s bad?”

This time, you do glare at her. “Yes, it’s bad. Very bad.”

“Of course. Obviously.” Robin rolls her eyes at you before returning her attention to the television, leaving you alone to spiral.

[bilightningwriter-writing]

My best time to write these days is at work half the time, honestly. Like, where I work, there are some places that I'm scheduled in where I'm (somewhat) allowed to just write most of the time I'm in there. Obviously work comes first, but I can get a lot done. On the busy days, I can't do much. Or in certain locations, like the customer facing ones.

At home, I don't write much other than typing it up. I do my best to write on my days off, but I'm also trying to keep reading again, too. It's a balance I used to have on lock in high school, but since I spent more time reading than doing things like watching tv, that's the only way my parents could ground me. Granted, that was long, long before I went on medication for my adhd. But ever since I wasn't allowed to read for 2~3 months of high school (other than textbooks) until my grades went up, it messed up my whole rhythm. Like, I couldn't write much without having something to get my imagination going and music just wasn't filling that void.

Anyway, being on meds finally got me back on at least somewhat of a track on things. I honestly thought they'd do the opposite, since caffeine does shit for me (it's a stimulant, most adhd meds are stimulants; at least I convinced my doctor not to start me off on Aderall of all things; and since I was going to school for pysch, I knew at least something that might, and does, work better; for me, that is). But I'm writing and reading again. Not as much as I'd like, but that's where I'm hoping by starting the "parallel play" streaming on Twitch, then it'll force me to not stay in bed on my weekends just scrolling through Tumblr all day.

May 11

Hello writerly friends!

It has been one week since we started our event. 

I challenged myself to a daily writing goal, and as expected, I had a bit of a rough start. The first week in such a challenge shows all the usual problems in a stark light. There's a reason why I didn't naturally write every day before, several reasons, in fact.

You probably know what I'm talking about. So many distractions bombard us every day, from work to social media to just being alive and feeding ourselves. It's really a fulltime job just to function today, and now I'm also trying to be creative? Hell of an expectation for myself. 

Back in the day when I was following all sorts of productivity gurus, one of them always said "don't say you don't have time, you have plenty of time, stop watching Lost!". (Lost was a TV show, for those of you too young to know.) The Lost reference really puts it into a time frame, doesn't it? While I don't follow any of these guys anymore (because they all, and I mean ALL, turned out to be snakeoil scammers, living off the courses they sold to desperate people) we still have to think about how to fit writing into our day.

We're not going to fuck around with some productivity hacks, but the fact of the matter is: Time is a limited resource.

Time will also not just appear. Very rarely will we find ourselves with two hours of unexpected focus time, free of distractions and other obligations. The question is not "how to find time to write?", because time can not just be found. The question is: "how to block time for writing?".

That means scheduling. Not necessarily a specific time, but a time frame. "After work, before dinner", "After or before the first coffee.", "After lunch, for fifteen minutes.". Those are all possible blocks, they can even change from day to day, depending on the realities of life. If I don't reserve these time blocks, I end up with desperate writing at midnight, when I truly should be in bed. That is not sustainable.

How about you? How do you fit writing into your life? Do you have set blocks of time for writing? Do you hide somewhere so nobody can bother you?

As we go into the second week, I hope you'll have plenty of time for writing and I will give you all the stars!

[meowdei]

You know I don’t like to say this about writing because I feel it’s a very slippery slope to start pointing fingers and accusing but sometimes a piece of writing is so suspiciously close to ai sounding that I have to squint

[koralira-kira]

MASSAGE OIL ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆k. bakugo⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

pairings : k. bakugo x reader

genre : crack, slice of life, established relationship

synopsis : After a grueling day of dance training, you’re sore as hell and in desperate need of a massage. Luckily, your explosive hothead of a boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, is more than willing to help—until things take a hilarious turn. What was supposed to be a relaxing massage turns into absolute chaos when you both realize Katsuki grabbed the wrong bottle… and slathered you in lube instead of massage oil. Cue the shouting, the accusations, and the absolute mess that follows.

warnings : profanities... like ALOT. a hint of explicit jokes too!

wc : 1,457

notes : OMG i haven't written in A WHILEE. wrote this out since it just spawned randomly in my mind and i thought it was kinda funny sooo... why not make a oneshot out of it! :D ANYWAYS, i still got a heck tone of pending papers to do cuz let's be honest, school sucks. JK! still tryin my best to keep those gpa's UPP!! (i'm about to crash out and lose my shit... help me) LOL hope ya'll would like this one the same way as I did!

---

The living room was quiet except for the occasional scroll of a thumb against a phone screen and the faint sound of Katsuki sighing every now and then. Both of you were sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in blankets, doing absolutely nothing but enjoying each other’s presence.

After a whole damn day of training yesterday, your body was in absolute shambles. Everything hurt—your legs, your arms, your back—hell, even blinking felt exhausting. And naturally, you were complaining about it.

“I swear to god, Kats, if I have to do another goddamn windmill next week, I’m gonna fucking lose it,” you groaned, tossing your phone onto your stomach. “My body is screaming at me. Like, I think my muscles are planning a rebellion. My back, baby. My back is DONE.”

Katsuki, not even looking up from his phone, let out a short snort. “Well, no shit. You disappeared for a few months and then jumped straight back into training like some lunatic. What’d you expect?”

“That I’d have superhuman regeneration powers, obviously.” You rolled onto your stomach, dramatically burying your face into the pillow. “Ughhh, I need a back massage. Katsuki, pleaseee.”

“Tch. Fine, fine,” he grumbled, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’ll get the oil. Wait here.”

You watched as he got up, stretching slightly before making his way toward your shared bedroom. You sighed in relief, smiling to yourself. Perks of having a strong-ass Pro Hero boyfriend—he gave damn good massages.

A few moments later, Katsuki returned with the familiar little bottle in his hand. He plopped back down next to you, tugging at your oversized top. “Take this off.”

You turned to him with a lazy smirk. “Oh? A lil kinky now are we, huh?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows.

He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Shut the hell up and turn around, dumbass. Ain't tryna get you dicked down.”

Chuckling, you finally pulled your shirt over your head and lay back down on the couch, getting comfortable as he poured some of the oil into his hands. He rubbed them together before pressing his palms against your skin, starting slow, letting his thumbs dig into your tight muscles.

In all honesty, training was the pain in the ass. Especially since you just got back after a few months of taking break from dancing. Not gonna lie though, dancing was really you passion ever since you were a kid and it lead you to many great opportunities and achievements you never thought you'd reach. You've been through countless of stages and danced your ass in all of them.

Definitely you're not ashamed of that, cause who would? It was just that you and your crew were all busy for the last couple of months since competitions were just coming in and it was just too much to handle physically and mentally. That's why you took a little break but of course you also took your time to pass by your studio ever now and then. Checking out on the progress of the routine, just not entirely participating in the dance.

"Ohh yeah, press a little bit harder there, Kats."

"Yeah, yeah, quite moanin' your ass, I know I got magical hands."

"Hell yeah you do, babe." You grinned and Katsuki just chuckles.

A few minutes then passed by in comfortable silence before something felt… off.

You frowned. “Hey, Kats?”

“Hm?”

“You bought a new massage oil, didn’t you?”

“The fuck you mean?” Katsuki paused, his hands still pressed against your back. “I bought the same menthol massage oil we always use. Why?”

“Well… it’s not minty like usual. And it feels kinda… greasy?” You turned your head slightly, your brows furrowing. “Like, I dunno, it doesn’t feel the same.”

Katsuki huffed, shifting slightly as he lifted his hands and rubbed his fingers together, as if expecting the familiar cooling sensation to suddenly appear. “What the hell? It’s been a few minutes, and I don’t feel that minty shit either…”

Now getting suspicious, he reached down and grabbed the bottle from the floor to check it properly. Maybe he bought the wrong one by accident?

He flipped the bottle around in his hands, reading the label.

“…uhhh.”

Your head snapped up. “Katsuki, what the fuck do you mean ‘uhhh’?”

Katsuki blinked. Then blinked again. His red eyes grew about two sizes as he processed what he was holding.

You twisted your body slightly to look back at him, and the second you saw the bottle, your stomach dropped.

“KATSUKI.”

He flinched. “What?!”

“YOU STUPID FUCK. YOU USED FUCKING LUBE INSTEAD OF MASSAGE OIL?!”

Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he immediately went on the defensive. “ASSHOLE, THEY WERE IN THE SAME DAMN CABINET. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE?!”

“OH, I DUNNO, MAYBE READ THE GODDAMN BOTTLE?”

“I WASN’T THINKING ABOUT READING, I WAS THINKING ABOUT RUBBING YOUR WHINY ASS DOWN.”

You sat up fully now, chest still out, and slapped your hand over your face in pure disbelief. Meanwhile, Katsuki was still holding the damn lube bottle like it wasn’t already too late.

“This is actually insane. We are insane,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Oh my god, Katsuki, what if I had skin allergies or some shit? What if I just broke out in hives? Huh?”

“Well it hasn't happened before now did it? And plus, we’ll figure it out, dumbass,” he shot back, but his voice was losing the edge, turning into a chuckle as he finally started to process the absurdity of the situation.

You groaned dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “You're actually disgusting.”

Katsuki finally burst out laughing, tossing the bottle onto the coffee table. “You’ll live.”

Still pouting, you crossed your arms, glaring at him. “We’re never speaking of this again.”

“No, no, we absolutely are,” Katsuki smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. “I’m tellin’ the whole damn crew. You got rubbed down in lube.”

“YOU’RE NOT TELLING SHIT.”

Katsuki laughed harder, leaning down to press a kiss against the side of your head. “Relax, dumbass. No one’s gonna know.”

“…Swear on your All Might figurine?”

Katsuki groaned. “God, you’re fucking impossible.”

You snickered before finally letting yourself relax in his embrace. As much of a disaster as that was, at least now you had a new inside joke to hold over him for the rest of your lives.

"Will you be a gentleman now and bring me up to go shower with me?" You batted your eyes at him.

"Aight, aight, we'll shower together, princess." He kissed you're temple and carried you bridal style towards the bathroom with you chuckling.

And if he ever fucked up again, you now had the ultimate trump card:

“You used lube instead of massage oil, babe. You literally cannot say shit.”

fin

---

[squipa]

and they called it puppy love

aka tim drakes lovesick obsession with you

———

tim drake didn’t really notice anyone when he went to uni. he was there to learn, not make friends. he was too busy for friends, anyways, so he never really tried. that was until he laid eyes on you.

you were in his advanced quantum physics class, loudly debating with some meathead about the correct answer to a question. he was tuned in, entirely unable to focus on his own work. you politely argued with the dumbass who tried to correct you that your answer was right (it was), and he couldn’t think about anything other than how perfect your voice sounded against his ears.

he nearly failed that class— not because he found it particularly difficult, because he couldn’t stop staring at you. he tried not to be creepy, looking away the moment your eyes even dared to meet his. he was memorizing everything about you, the way you played with your hair while you spoke, the way you smiled to yourself whenever you got a correct answer on the homework, how you were too quiet to raise your hand but always offering the answers to the people around you.

he couldn’t get you out of his head, and as much as he tried to deny himself of you, he was obsessed. he switched to the empty seat behind you, close enough to smell your shampoo, and watch the tabs you scrolled through mindlessly on your computer while the professor lectured. he took note of everything. if you bought a book, he’d read it overnight on the off chance you spoke to him. played an album on your spotify? he’s listening to the artist’s entire discography. he even bought a blind box of sonny angels when he watched you debate buying them for thirty minutes.

you’re the one who talks to him first, and god, did it make his year. “hey,” you said, smiling up at him. he hopes you didn’t notice the red that spread from his cheeks to his chest, burning the tips of his ears. “i think you dropped your water bottle.” you say, handing a transparent blue bottle back to him. it’s not his. he’s eternally grateful. he babbles some nonsense back to you, memorizing the way your eyes look when they’re focused on his. you give a kind smile and turn back to your work, completely unbothered while he can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

you opened the gates with that comment— now he finds any excuse to talk to you. yes, he needs help understanding the material. yes, he wants to know what the office hours are for the professor. obviously he’s obsessed with the band on your shirt, and he can’t believe you like it too.

he’s very left-brained. he wants to know everything thing about you, what makes you smile and what makes you mad. he wants to know what makes every neuron fire, what makes you tick. he wishes he could crack open your skull and dig around in your brain to better understand you, to know every aspect of why you are the way that you are. but, since he can’t do that, he does the second best thing and hacks into your phone.

it isn’t invasive, or weird. he just wants to know more about you— you’d understand. he goes through your texts, social medias, gradebook, notes app, bank statements, everything. when he realizes you’re broke, he anonymously pays your tuition under the guise of a scholarship. he’ll show up at your work (a coincidence, of course) and shove a hundred dollar bill in the tip jar when your back is turned. he just wants to take care of you. he slips your favorite snacks into your backpack when you go to the bathroom, doordashes your favorite foods to your dorm when you forget to eat— anything he can do for you, he will.

he broke into your dorm, not to do anything malicious, he just wanted to see how you live. he’s sickened by how easy it was to break the lock, and sent a work order immediately to update security. around your room, he took little things, stuff you wouldn’t miss, sticky note doodles and hair ties. he took note of all of the pieces of you around him, the soap you use, the games stacked on your desk, the makeup piled on the sink. he just likes knowing the intimate, little things about you.

don’t get him started on the pictures. he’s got hundreds— you in class, walking on the courtyard, at work, out with friends, driving around, whatever. he flips through them every night, studying every detail like a textbook and looking for new ones. he loves learning you, focusing in on every detail, putting together every piece of every puzzle.

he gets enraged when he sees any man talking to you, bothering you. he hates the way they can make you laugh where he can’t, that they’re bolder than he is around someone as delicate as you. he needs to be gentle, careful. he shoots death glares at any man who takes your attention for too long, making sure to block them on all of your social medias preemptively in case they try to annoy you again.

he practically has an aneurysm when he catches you walking home from work alone at night. it’s gotham, you can’t possibly think it’s safe, even on campus. lucky you, red robin is there to watch from the shadows, making sure you get home safe and sound. he slips a pepper spray bottle in your bag the next day.

you two become something of friends when he asks you to help him study. suddenly, all of his classes are on the way to yours, so obviously it makes sense to walk with you. listening to you talk— it’s the sweetest sound he could imagine. you tell him things (most of which he already knows) about your life, and constantly invite him to share his. you’re so kind, you never roll your eyes or get annoyed at his awkwardness around you, you only smile and nod until he finds his point. you’re filled with endless empathy, you find a reason to sympathize with anyone, regardless of how rude they may have been. your roommates boyfriend with a staring problem? he must just be nervous around someone so close to his girlfriend. the guy who grabbed your shoulder in class (who got a lesson taught to him by red robin that night)? probably had just been trying to get your attention for awhile.

he’s absolutely infatuated. he has your entire schedule memorized, he knows the hospital you were born in and your high school gpa. he fantasizes about a future with you, one where you love him a fraction as much as he loves you. one where he can spoil you and protect you and have you all to himself.

he spends hours in front of the mirror, practicing what he’ll say to you in the hallway when he finally asks you out. he needs to be casual, like you’re not the only thing he thinks about, but not nonchalant, because he cares more than you know.

he fails spectacularly.

“would you, uh, y’know, i was wanting to, uh… i have movie tickets, and i’d buy you dinner, uh… like a date?”

your little giggle kills him. you should refuse him, turn away and never speak to him again, he deserves it.

“i’d like that. saturday?”

once you start dating, it’s over, he’s over the moon every day. he doesn’t need an excuse to walk you to and from class, or home from work, or pick you up after a night out (where he totally wasn’t watching, lurking in the corner to make sure nobody bothered you), because that was his job. it’s not weird that he sits in the cafe you work at throughout your entire shift; acting like a personal bodyguard. nights when you’re too exhausted to see him, he watches from your window, just observing the way your chest rises and falls.

he kisses you over and over, memorizing how good you taste against his lips. he’d constantly press himself into you, or warm your hands in between his, or tuck his arm neatly against yours. anything to stay close to you. even the slightest shiver and his jacket is over your shoulders, and god forbid you’re out shopping, because he refuses to let you pay a thing, or hold a single bag. he’ll randomly send you money to get your nails done, or buy a book you want. multiple times he’s told you he’d take care of you if you quit your job, but you always refuse. he loves that about you, but wishes you’d let him do more.

he doesn’t even think about the possibility of you leaving him. because truly, it’s impossible. he won’t allow it, he’ll be attentive, caring, and the absolute perfect boyfriend, so the thought won’t even cross your mind. he knows everything about you, exactly what you want and exactly what you need. he loves you more than anything, and his only job is to take care of you, keep you safe and warm and happy for as long as you live.

he adores you, practically worships you. this isn’t puppy love, it’s pure and true and he intends for it to last forever.

[seokgyuu]

After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.

Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader

Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!

Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!

tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)

Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!

His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.

Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.

Like with you.

When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.

See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.

The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.

He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.

It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.

A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.

Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.

But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.

The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.

One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.

Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.

All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.

A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.

Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.

Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.

“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

You shook your head no.

“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”

Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”

Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.

“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.

“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”

You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.

“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”

Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-

“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”

Which is how we get to… now.

His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.

You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.

And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.

This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!

Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.

The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.

Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.

He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.

“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.

Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.

Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.

“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.

You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.

“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.

By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.

“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.

For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.

“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.

Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.

The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.

He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.

“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.

“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.

He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.

After that it spirals.

He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.

He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.

When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.

He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.

Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.

When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.

“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.

“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.

Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…

Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”

You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.

“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.

He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.

“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”

Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.

Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.

“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.

For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.

Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.

And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.

[parkersbliss]

A Domestic Life | S. Riley

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader

warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC

synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships

a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for ghost!

—

sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit

enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok

he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies

obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.

on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme

his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off

he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him

wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years

when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores

again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway

loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room

likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie

It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it

a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles

his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.

he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you

loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.

his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.

including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.

he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?

bicep holding >>> hand holding

he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home

his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.

plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”

doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid

you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.

it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP

sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate

when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.

and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is

[enha-roza]

HYUNG LINE LOVE LANGUAGES

hyung line x 8thmember!oc

warnings : kissing, oral, cockwarming, nicknames (princess, doll, pretty, baby )

wc : 1.2k

Heeseung : Physical Touch Heeseung loves physical touch. Always has his hands on Roza in one way or another. Hands on her waist, resting on her thighs, arm around her shoulder. He just enjoys being right next to her. Even subconsciously drifting to stand next to her, hands instinctively wrapping around her waist. It all came naturally to him.

“And here is Roza, she is getting her makeup done!” Heeseung said, pointing the camera at her through the mirror. “Hello Engene! Do I look pretty?” she joked. “Of course you do!” Roza stood up, her makeup done. “Ahhh, I'm so nervous, I don't know why.” “Roza always gets nervous… but she always does well anyway.” Heeseung said to the camera, arm wrapping around Roza’s shoulder. “You think… my mind gets the best of me, i always freak myself out.” she giggled. “You'll do fine, you always do!” He said leaving a peck on her cheek. “Yah, my makeup!” Roza looked in the mirror at a faint lip mark on her cheek. Heeseung’s arms came around her, head resting on her shoulder and he filmed her trying to remove the lip mark. “It's pretty…” “shut up..” she whispered shyly.

18+ Heeseung was eating Roza out when he felt her hand reaching out for him. His fingers intertwined with Roza’s as she arched her back, Heeseung’s mouth leaving her a moaning mess. Slowly he left kisses over body and hickeys on her neck. “You can’t leave hickeys!” “I don't care if our fans see… you look so pretty.” Heeseung ran his hands over Roza’s waist as he slid between her tight walls. Soothing Roza with kisses to her neck and jaw. “Love having you in my arms.” He moaned as he continued to please his baby, hands wrapping around her neck. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head. “God look at you. So weak at my touch.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Jay : Acts of Service There's nothing more Jay loves than doing things for the people he cares about. Obviously Roza included. Jay’s favorite thing to do for Roza is cook. He enjoys making her favorite meals and making sure she's well fed. Due to their busy schedule Roza often forgot to eat and Jay made it his job to make sure she had eaten.

The members had just gotten back from tour and Roza was resting in her room. “Are you hungry?” Jay poked his head into her room. “Kinda… are you gonna cook something?” “yeah, what do you want?” “I don't know… anything, I'm just hungry.” Jay laughed as he grabbed Roza’s hands bringing her to the kitchen. “Also I got you a gift…” Jay pulled a small box out of his pocket handing it to Roza. “what! Omg jay you didn't have too!” Roza immediately recognized what it was. A bracelet she had been looking at while shopping a couple of weeks ago. “I saw you looking at it…” He said shyly, getting out food to cook. “Jay, that's so sweet…” Jay looked over and saw Roza looking at the bracelet gloomy. “Are you crying?” “no…” “come here.” Jay pulled Roza into him. “You deserve it, silly.” “thank you Oppa.”

18+ Jay was sitting on his bed scrolling through his phone when Roza came in and sat on his lap. “Hey pretty, what's up?” Jay’s hand came up to caress her face. “need you…” Roza said so quietly Jay wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. “You need me? You're gonna have to be a more specific doll.” He watched her slowly build up the courage. “Was trying to get off by myself but i couldn't… I need your help.” His heart swelled at her as she spoke softly. “Yeah, need Oppa’s help… poor baby couldn’t get herself off.” He smirked as he laid her down on his bed, ready and willing to put his hands and mouth to good use. Willing to do anything for her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Jake : Words of Affirmation Jake was a sweetheart. He is always complimenting the members and giving them praise any chance he can get. Jake especially likes complimenting Roza. he likes seeing how shy she gets. Whether he’s commenting on her skill, beauty or even her laugh. Jake always finds a way to put a blush on Roza’s cheeks.

The members were taking concept photos for their upcoming album where Jake, Roza and Niki were paired up to take some unit photos. “Wahh, you look so pretty…” Jake stood blankly watching Roza as she walked up to him. “You think?” “Yeah, I think you're the prettiest girl in the world.” Roza turned away shyly at Jake's complement. “Noona’s shy!” Niki shouted as he laughed at Roza. “Shut up Niki!” Roza said. “Don't act shy, love. You really are the prettiest.” Niki makes gagging sounds at Jake's sappy flirting. “Hyung, can't you be normal?” “This is normal for me, I'm always complimenting my pretty girl." “Oh god.” Niki said for a last time before walking away.

18+ Jake loved when Roza pleased him so naturally he made sure she knew how well she was making him feel. “Mmm, there we go baby. Doing so good for me” He moaned as his hand tangled in her head, her lips wrapped around his cock. “Keep going, so close…” Jake looked down, eyes meeting Roza’s watery ones. “Look at you, doing the most to please me… ahhhh, you look so pretty.” Even with how busy she was, Jake noticed her cheek blushing. “You like that… like me complimenting how pretty you are with your mouth stuffed full. Of course you do.” He smirked. He knew Roza loved receiving compliments just as much as he loved giving them.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Sunghoon : Quality Time Sunghoon likes being in Roza’s presence. He enjoyed being her roommate on tour, seatmate on planes or long car rides. He liked doing almost anything, as long as he was with her. Even when no words were being exchanged, he liked just being around her. Sunghoon most enjoyed laying next to Roza while she slept. Just watching her and listening to her small breaths made his heart warm.

Roza climbed into Sunghoon’s bed ready to watch a movie together. Sunghoon immediately noticed how tired she was, eyes droopy and small yawns passing through her lips. “If you're tired go to sleep, i don't wanna keep you up” He said, smile widening just looking at her. “But I feel bad. I promised we would watch a movie…” “it's okay, i don't mind! I'd rather you sleep anyway.” Roza nodded as she snuggled into the blankets and very quickly dozed off. Sunghoon admired her as she slept. He continued to scroll on his phone before heading to sleep himself. Happy to sleep with Roza next to him.

18+ Sunghoon had just gotten out of the shower when he entered his Room, finding Roza snuggled into his bed. “Hey baby, what are you doing?” “missed you, wanna sleep here… is that okay?” “Of course you can.” He soon joined her, bringing her in closer by the waist. Soon Roza fell asleep and Sunghoon could feel himself getting hard as she unconsciously pressed into him. “Baby… wake up.” He whispered as Roza slowly woke up. “Need to be in you baby…” his voice raspy as he slid Roza’s sleep shorts to the side, before pushing his hard cock into her. Roza whined at the stretch. “It's okay baby, go back to sleep” Sunghoon caressed her sides as she quickly went back to dreamland. Sunghoon himself, now satisfied, also ready to sleep.

a/n : hehehehehe

[grifffins]

🚗 Passenger Princess 🚗

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

tags: slow burn, fluff & smut, passenger princess lilia calderu, car sex

summary: Lilia doesn’t drive, why would she, when you always pick her up? What starts as a one time favour turns into routine. She adjusts the temperature, hijacks the radio, and makes herself at home in your passenger seat. You complain, but you never say no. And she knows it.

wc: ~ 16k

a/n: thank you so much to @refreshingly-original for the idea, i hope you like it. and a huge shoutout to @ahsfan05 for reading it first and pulling me out of my self-criticism spiral, love you forever 💕

also on ao3

taglist: @ahsfan05, @emilynissangtr

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The first time Lilia asks for a lift, it’s casual, offhand, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. She leans against the doorframe of the café where you both frequent, one hand tucked into the pocket of her long coat, the other holding a paper cup of something undoubtedly expensive. “I need to pop to the shops,” she says matter of factly. “You’re heading that way, aren’t you?”

You weren’t , but she says it with such certainty that you almost question your own plans. There’s something about the way she tilts her head, waiting, that makes you sigh in amused resignation. “Yeah, alright,” you say. “But you owe me a coffee next time.”

Her lips curve as she pushes off the doorframe. “Oh, cara, I’ll make it worth your while.” You don’t question what that means, probably best not to. She slides into the passenger seat as if it’s a throne, immediately settling in like she belongs there, adjusting her coat, shifting in her seat, and sighing dramatically like she’s been through so much just to get here.

“Comfortable?” you ask dryly, starting the car.

Lilia hums, stretching out like a cat. “Mm. I could do with a bit more legroom, but I suppose one must make do.”

“You’re five foot,” you remind her, unimpressed.

“Five two,” she corrects primly. “And a half.”

You snort as the engine purrs to life, expecting her to sit quietly, maybe scroll through her phone or hum along to the radio, but within seconds, she’s fiddling with the air conditioning. “Do you always have it this cold?” she asks, shivering theatrically.

“Yes,” you say flatly.

Lilia tuts, turning the dial up two notches. “I see. A woman of extreme discomfort.”

You flick it back down without looking. She flicks it up. You flick it down. The standoff lasts longer than it should before she lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back against the seat in defeat. “Fine,” she relents. “Freeze me out, if you must.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

She lifts her chin, expression haughty. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

Something light and unspoken settles in the space between you as the city rolls past. It’s nothing, really. Just a quick drive, just a favour.

Lilia doesn’t bother giving you directions. Instead, she gestures vaguely with one hand, sipping her coffee with the other. “You know the place.”

You arch a brow. “Do I?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Of course you do.”

You don’t, but you drive anyway, waiting for her to actually say where you’re going. When it becomes clear that she has no intention of doing so, you sigh. 

“The market, cara. Obviously,” she says, long-suffering.

Right. Obviously.

You turn onto the right street, weaving through late afternoon traffic. Despite insisting on coming here, Lilia doesn’t seem in any particular rush. She’s lounging, one leg tucked up on the seat, fingers toying with the radio dial.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” you warn.

She scoffs, flicking through stations like she owns the car. “Honestly, you should thank me. Your music selection is dismal.”

“It’s my car.”

“Yes, and I’m your passenger,” she says as if that explains everything. “You have a duty of care.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Absolutely. Your driving experience should be a pleasure, not a punishment.”

The station settles on something old, something jazzy. Lilia hums, satisfied.

You shake your head, amused. “Unbelievable.”

She simply smiles, leaning back as the music fills the space between you. The easy comfort of it is almost strange. Before this, Lilia had been a familiar presence, nothing more, someone you shared a café table with when the shop was too busy, someone you exchanged the occasional quip with in passing. But now, as she makes herself at home in the passenger seat, something feels like it’s shifted. Not in a grand, earth-shattering way, but in a quiet, inevitable one.

You’re still thinking about it when you pull up outside the market. Lilia, who had been contently gazing out the window, turns to you with a satisfied smile. “Perfect timing.”

You gesture toward the door. “Go on, then.”

She doesn’t move.

You blink.

She blinks back.

“…Lilia?”

“Oh,” she says, waving a hand. “I assumed you’d park and come in with me.”

You stare at her. “Why?”

She looks genuinely puzzled, as if the idea of you not accompanying her is absurd. “Because I need someone to hold the bags.”

You let out a short laugh. “You’re joking.”

She’s not. And yet, somehow, ten minutes later, you’re standing in the middle of a crowded market, two bags in hand, watching as Lilia inspects a basket of overpriced figs with the air of a woman choosing fine jewellery.

How did you get here?

Just a favour, you remind yourself. Just a one-time thing.

Lilia turns to you, eyes alight with something playful. “Oh, cara,” she muses, “I think I could get used to this.”

You don’t realise it yet, but so could you.

Because really, how did this happen? One moment, you were giving her a quick lift; the next, you were carrying her shopping bags while she leisurely wandered from stall to stall, utterly unbothered by the fact that you had other things to do today.

“Lilia,” you say, shifting the weight of the bags in your arms, “I’m not a pack mule.”

She hums, considering. “No, no, of course not. A mule would be far too ungraceful.” Turning to you with a delighted smile, she adds, “You’re more like my own personal chauffeur with excellent biceps. Really, I’m getting the better deal here.”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

She simply grins, utterly unrepentant, before moving on to the next stall. At some point, you give up arguing. She’s clearly in her element, and there’s something about the way she moves through the market, half charming, half inspecting her surroundings like a queen surveying her kingdom, that is almost entertaining to watch.

Just when you think she’s going to drag you into another debate over whether a particular wedge of cheese is really worth the price, she turns back to you with a thoughtful expression.

“You should pick something,” she says.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

Lilia gestures at the stalls. “A treat. Something for yourself.”

You scoff. “I’m just here to—”

“Indulge me,” she interrupts smoothly, tilting her head.

Narrowing your eyes at her, you cross your arms. “Why?”

She leans in slightly, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Because, cara, I insist.”

The way she says it, like it’s an invitation to a game you don’t yet understand, makes your pulse do something ridiculous. You try not to dwell on it. With a sigh, you scan the nearby stalls, settling on a small bakery stand tucked in the corner. “Fine,” you mutter, “but if I’m choosing, you’re paying.”

Lilia places a hand over her heart, mock-offended. “Oh, the audacity! You think me the kind of woman who wouldn’t treat her most devoted driver?”

“You’re calling me devoted now?”

She smirks. “Well, you did bring me all this way.”

She has far too much confidence in the idea that this is something you’d willingly do again. You tell yourself it’s not. But when she buys you a pastry without hesitation, pressing the warm paper bag into your hand with a pleased little smile, you don’t complain.

“See?” she says as you take a bite, utterly self-satisfied. “You should let me spoil you more often.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Yet as you leave the market, her shopping bags still in your hands, her beside you, humming a tune under her breath, you wonder why you don’t mind as much as you probably should.

The drive back is quieter, not awkward, just settled, the kind of comfortable silence that doesn’t need filling. Lilia is reclined in her seat, the shopping tucked neatly in the back, her hand idly toying with the paper bag that once held your pastry. She looks completely at ease, as if she’s done this a hundred times before, which is ridiculous.

You grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “You know this isn’t going to be a regular thing, right?”

Lilia turns her head, blinking at you like she’s just woken from a pleasant daydream. “Oh?”

“I mean it,” you say. “I’m not your personal driver.”

She makes a thoughtful sound, fingers tapping against the dashboard. “No, I suppose not.”

You glance at her, suspicious. She’s agreeing far too easily.

Then, as if sensing your doubt, she gives you a slow, knowing smile. “But you’ll still pick me up next time, won’t you?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You are unbelievable.”

She hums. “Mmm. But I’m right.”

And the worst part? She is.

Because as you pull up outside her flat, watching as she gathers her things with no real sense of urgency, you know this isn’t the last time. Lilia knows it too. She pauses with one foot out the door, turning back to you with an amused glint in her eye.

“Thank you for your service, cara.”

Before you can reply, she reaches out, so quick you almost don’t register it, and lightly pats your thigh. A fleeting touch, casual, but enough to leave a warmth behind as she steps out, disappearing up the path without a second glance.

You exhale, leaning back against the seat. Just a favour. Just a one-time thing.

Right.

The second time it happens, there’s even less preamble. A text.

You're free tomorrow, yes.

That’s it. No context, no pleasantries, not even a question mark.

You stare at your phone, unimpressed. You are free tomorrow, yes. What kind of message is that? You consider ignoring it. You don’t.

Free for what?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Oh, you’ll see.

You sigh, already resigned. Lilia Calderu, for all her theatrics, is oddly direct when she wants something.

So it’s no surprise when, the next afternoon, you find yourself pulling up outside her flat once again. And, of course, she’s waiting. Not rushing, not scrambling, just standing there at the top of the steps, effortlessly put together in her coat and boots, a pair of sunglasses perched on her head. As if she knew you’d come.

She slides into the passenger seat with a pleased sigh, setting a coffee cup in your cupholder like it’s a gift. “You’re a saint, truly.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “I haven’t even agreed to take you anywhere.”

Lilia just smiles, reclining into her seat like a woman who has no doubt about how this will play out.

You exhale, already defeated. “Where are we going?”

She gestures vaguely. “Town. I have errands.”

“Errands,” you echo, watching her adjust the sleeves of her coat. “And you couldn’t take the bus?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Please. Do I look like a woman who takes the bus?”

You can’t argue with that.

With a sigh that is far too indulgent for your own good, you shift into gear and pull onto the road. This time, she doesn’t even ask before adjusting the temperature. You let her.

At some point, you start to wonder how this happened. Not the driving, that much is obvious. Lilia asked, and you, despite your better judgement, agreed. But what baffles you is how she’s already acting like this is normal, as though this is routine. She’s sitting back in the passenger seat, adjusting the vents again, as if she’s been doing it for years. One ankle is propped over the other, her coat draped over her lap, sunglasses now pushed into her hair. Every now and then, she lets out a small, pleased hum, as if the mere act of being chauffeured is a luxury she fully intends to enjoy.

You narrow your eyes at the road. “You know, most people don’t treat their mates like personal drivers.”

Lilia lets out a breathy laugh, utterly unbothered. “Most people don’t have a mate as accommodating as you.”

“I’m not accommodating.”

“Oh, but you are.” She turns to look at you properly, head tilting just slightly. “You complain, cara , but you never say no.”

Your grip tightens on the wheel. Because she’s not wrong.

She must sense it, because she leans in slightly, an amused glint in her eye. “Why is that?”

You flick your gaze towards her, wary. “Why is what?”

Her smile is slow, measured, knowing. “Why did you pick me up?”

The words settle between you. The engine hums beneath your fingers, the road stretching ahead. Outside, the city moves in quiet, steady motion, pedestrians on corners, shops with doors propped open, a bus pulling away from a stop.

You swallow. “Because you asked.”

It’s a weak answer. A deflection. But you refuse to analyse it too much.

Lilia doesn’t press. Instead, she lets out a soft hum, as if considering something. Then she shifts, adjusting her seatbelt slightly before turning back to the window. Whatever she was thinking, she keeps it to herself.

For now.

The first stop is a bookshop. You don’t plan to go inside. This is her errand, not yours. You figure you’ll wait in the car, scroll through your phone, and make peace with the fact that this will never be the last time she asks for a lift.

But, of course, Lilia has other plans. She barely makes it three steps before pausing, turning back to look at you expectantly.

You blink. “What?”

She gestures at the shop. “Come in with me.”

You stare at her, unimpressed. “Why?”

Lilia sighs, long suffering, as if you’re the unreasonable one here. “Because it would be rude to leave my driver unattended.”

You let out a sharp laugh. “You do realise you’re not a duchess, right?”

She simply smirks. “Not officially, no.”

You open your mouth to argue, because honestly, what does that even mean? But before you can get the words out, she’s already turning towards the door, clearly expecting you to follow. And, much to your own dismay, you do.

Just for a moment, you tell yourself. Just to humour her. It’s definitely not because you like watching the way she carefully browses the shelves, fingers trailing over spines, head tilting slightly when she finds something interesting. And it’s certainly not because you enjoy the way she smiles to herself when she stumbles across something particularly ridiculous.

Just for a moment. Just a favour. Right?

You don’t mean to enjoy yourself. But somehow, between following Lilia into the bookshop and watching her pick through the shelves like she’s inspecting fine art, you realise you’re not annoyed. She moves with purpose, but not urgency, fingers skimming over the spines as she pauses every now and then to pluck out a book and inspect the cover.

You hover near the entrance, arms crossed. “Are you actually here to buy something, or did you just drag me in for fun?”

Lilia, without looking up, waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, I have a list.”

You arch a brow. “A list?”

“Mm.” She shifts slightly, angling a book in the light before slipping it back into place. “Mental, of course. But very specific.”

Of course it is.

You exhale, shaking your head as your gaze drifts over the shop. It’s quiet, the kind of independent place tucked between bigger, flashier storefronts, filled with the scent of old paper and warm coffee. There’s something oddly soothing about it, the soft shuffle of pages turning, the muted sound of a kettle boiling in the small café section at the back. Lilia fits here, somehow. Not just because of the books, but because of the quiet charm of the place, the way it invites curiosity, encourages lingering.

The thought unsettles you. You don’t quite know why.

“Here.”

Before you can overanalyse it, Lilia suddenly appears in front of you, holding out a book.

You blink. “What’s this?”

She tilts her head, amused. “A book, cara .”

You shoot her a flat look. “Yes, I gathered. Why are you giving it to me?”

Lilia hums, eyes flicking over you in quiet assessment before she finally says, “It suits you.”

You glance down at the cover. The title is unfamiliar, the kind of thing you’d skim past in a shop without a second thought. You frown. “I don’t think I’d—”

“Oh, you would,” she interrupts, confident. “Humour me.”

You sigh, but there’s no real exasperation behind it. “If I buy this and hate it, I’m blaming you.”

She smirks. “I’ll take that risk.”

Before you can argue further, she turns on her heel and makes her way to the till, leaving you standing there, book in hand, feeling suspiciously like you’ve been played. Again.

At first, you don’t think much of it, the book, the drive, the fact that you’ve somehow spent the better part of your afternoon trailing after Lilia on her errands like you’ve got nothing better to do. But as you step back outside, the late afternoon sun casting a hazy glow over the pavement, you realise something.

You’re enjoying this.

Not just tolerating it. Not just doing a favour. You actually don’t mind.

Lilia slips her sunglasses back onto her face, her movements easy, unhurried. “Hungry?”

You hesitate. “I—”

She turns to you, lips curving slightly. “You do eat, don’t you?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously.”

“Then come with me.”

It’s not a request. She’s already moving, crossing the street without looking back, as if she knows you’ll follow.

And the worst part?

You do.

At some point, you stop questioning it. It’s not officially a routine, not something you’ve ever sat down and agreed upon, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Because Lilia expects it now. And, despite everything, you keep showing up.

The third time she texts, there’s no preamble, just a statement that makes you scowl at your phone.

You’re outside, aren’t you?

You aren’t. You’re at home, minding your own business, doing something completely unrelated to Lilia Calderu and her increasingly blatant refusal to take public transport. For a brief moment, you consider ignoring her, but before you can even put your phone down, another message arrives.

I can practically hear you sighing. Don’t fight it.

Your lips twitch despite yourself. She’s insufferable. Absolutely unbearable. And yet, you grab your keys without thinking.

By the time you arrive, she’s already outside, waiting as if she had no doubt you’d turn up. You barely have time to put the car in park before she’s slipping into the passenger seat, settling in with a pleased sigh, as though she’s just secured the best seat in the house. She adjusts the lapel of her coat as she buckles herself in, her movements easy and unhurried, as if this is something she’s done a hundred times before.

“Good timing, cara ,” she says smoothly, reaching up to push her hair back.

You glance at her, unimpressed. “You didn’t even know if I was coming.”

She hums, shifting comfortably in her seat, giving you a look that makes it clear she had no doubt about the outcome. “Oh, I knew.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the wheel, but you don’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “You are so smug.”

She smirks, entirely unbothered, and before you can stop her, she reaches for the temperature controls. Without thinking, you slap her hand away, earning an exaggerated gasp of mock outrage.

“Unbelievable,” she says, pulling her hand back as if you’ve personally wounded her.

“You have got to stop touching my settings.”

She pouts in a way that is far too calculated to be genuine, crossing her arms as if she’s truly suffering. “You have a deeply unpleasant attitude for someone so accommodating.”

You roll your eyes, already exasperated. “I am not accommodating.”

She sighs as though this is a long-established fact and you are simply refusing to accept it. “Oh, cara , you so are.”

The worst part is that you don’t even argue anymore. At some point, you stopped pretending this was a reluctant favour. Because if you were truly put out by all of this, her expectation, her refusal to ever drive herself, the way she settles into your car like it belongs to her, you wouldn’t keep showing up.

But here you are. Again.

Lilia, as if sensing the shift, makes herself even more comfortable. She’s fiddling with the mirror now, tilting it slightly before checking her reflection, entirely unbothered by your presence.

“You do realise you don’t need to adjust that, right?” you ask, watching her through the corner of your eye, already suspicious of whatever she’s doing.

She hums, barely acknowledging your question. “Oh, I know.”

You narrow your eyes, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come. “Then why—”

Turning towards you, she meets your gaze with a slow, knowing smirk, her head tilting just slightly. “I like to see how I’m looking before we go anywhere.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you grip the wheel. “Unbelievable.”

“You keep saying that,” she muses, shifting her attention away from the mirror. Just as you relax, she reaches for the radio, fingers brushing over the dial like she hasn’t already pushed her luck enough for one day.

Your eyes flick to her hand, warning clear. “Touch that, and I’m kicking you out.”

She pauses, fingers hovering just above the dial, before pressing a hand to her chest in mock offence. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick with challenge. Then, with exaggerated reluctance, she lowers her hand back to her lap, surrendering with a small, put upon sigh.

You raise a brow, victorious. “Good girl.”

Lilia exhales a quiet laugh, something warm and amused flickering behind her eyes. “Oh, cara ,” she murmurs, voice dipping just enough to make your pulse stutter, “careful saying things like that.”

Your grip on the wheel tightens slightly, but you refuse to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Clearing your throat, you shift into gear and pull onto the road, ignoring the way she watches you, clearly entertained by your lack of response. She’s enjoying herself far too much, drawing out every small moment to test you, to see if you’ll rise to the bait.

The worst part? So are you.

You don’t know when you stopped pretending this was just a favour. Maybe it was the second time she called you, fully expecting you to show up without question. Maybe it was the way she always brought you coffee now, setting it in the cupholder like an unspoken exchange. Maybe it was the casual ease with which she adjusted your car settings, knowing you would huff and complain but ultimately let her get away with it. Or maybe it was the fact that none of it actually bothered you anymore.

Somehow, despite all her dramatics, Lilia Calderu had settled into the passenger seat of your life, and you hadn’t even thought to stop her.

The drive is quiet for a while, the steady hum of the engine filling the space between you. Eventually, she shifts slightly, crossing one leg over the other before turning to look at you with an expression that immediately puts you on edge.

“Do you know what your problem is?” she asks, voice light but deliberate, as if she’s been waiting for the right moment to bring this up.

You glance at her briefly before turning back to the road. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

She considers you for a moment, then sighs, adjusting the sleeves of her coat. “You resist too much.”

You arch a brow, casting her a dry look. “Resist what, exactly?”

Lilia doesn’t answer immediately, tilting her head slightly as though she’s weighing her response. “The inevitable.”

Scoffing, you grip the wheel a little tighter. “Oh, and what’s inevitable?”

She doesn’t respond right away, just holds your gaze for a beat longer than necessary before finally moving. Without hesitation, she reaches for the dial and turns the temperature up two notches, the action so casual it takes you a second to react.

Your gaze flicks to the dashboard, then back to her. She meets your stare without hesitation, challenging, waiting, daring you to say something.

Exhaling slowly, you shake your head and let it go.

Lilia smirks, settling back in her seat with an air of satisfaction. “See?”

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye, unimpressed but not particularly surprised. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I prefer to think of myself as persistent.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus on the road ahead, but the fight is long over. She’s won, and you both know it.

The car slows as you pull up outside her flat, the engine idling beneath your fingers, waiting. Lilia doesn’t move to unbuckle her seatbelt or reach for the door handle. Instead, she sits there, entirely at ease, making no effort to leave as if this is just another stop before you keep driving.

You side-eye her, waiting for her to get out. “You’re home.”

She exhales, tilting her head slightly, not making a move. “Mmm.”

You wait.

Nothing.

“…Lilia.”

She turns to you, lips curving in that slow, knowing way that makes your stomach stupidly unsettled.

She does this , always does this , pushes at the edges of something unspoken between you, as if she knows exactly what it is but won’t be the first to name it.

She leans slightly, just enough that you’re painfully aware of how close she is.

“Admit it,” she muses, voice light, teasing. “You like driving me around.”

You scoff, looking away. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s not a no.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You never say thank you, you do realise that?”

Lilia smiles, head tilting. “You’d find it less charming if I did.”

“You think you’re charming?”

She hums. “I know I am.”

You bite down on your smirk, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

She stays for another second, watching you, as if waiting for you to slip, just slightly , to give something away.

You don’t.

And, eventually, she relents.

With a satisfied sigh, she reaches for the door handle, stepping out with effortless grace.

Then, before closing the door, she leans down, peering back into the car.

“Same time next week?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re assuming I’ll say yes.”

She smirks. “I don’t assume , cara.”

Then she winks, shuts the door, and disappears inside, leaving you sitting there with far too many thoughts and absolutely no explanation for why you’re still smiling.

Lilia has no respect for personal space, and you’ve always known this. It’s never been a secret, never something she’s tried to hide, but somehow, you still aren’t prepared when, in the middle of one of your usual drives, she casually flips open your glovebox and starts rummaging through it like it’s her own.

You blink, barely processing what you’re seeing. “Excuse me?”

Lilia hums in vague acknowledgment, entirely unbothered as she sifts through receipts, an old parking ticket, and a half-melted lip balm with all the enthusiasm of someone searching for treasure.

“What are you doing?” you ask, incredulous.

“Tidying,” she replies simply, as if this is a perfectly reasonable explanation for invading your storage compartments.

You shoot her a look, unimpressed. “You don’t tidy. You make messes and then act surprised when they exist.”

She gasps, as if genuinely offended by the accusation. “I do not—”

“Remember the café incident?”

Lilia pauses, her lips pressing together in something that is definitely not guilt but looks suspiciously close to it. Then, in a move that is both impressive and infuriating, she swiftly changes the subject. “Oh, what’s this?”

Before you can react, she holds something up between her fingers, tilting her head as she studies it. It takes you a second to register what she’s found, but when you do, your stomach drops.

A necklace.

An old necklace. One you haven’t seen in years.

She lets the small pendant dangle between her fingers, examining it with an idle sort of curiosity, her expression thoughtful. “This looks significant,” she muses.

Your grip on the wheel tightens because it is significant. Or at least, it was .

Exhaling slowly, you force your voice into something neutral. “Just something I forgot about.”

Lilia glances at you, intrigued. “Oh?”

You keep your eyes firmly on the road, unwilling to let her see any reaction. “Yeah.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, ever so lightly, she asks, “Who gave it to you?”

You should have expected the question, should have been prepared for it, but somehow, you weren’t ready. Lilia Calderu has never once not pushed when something catches her interest. You clench your jaw slightly, focusing on the road ahead.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Lilia hums, turning the pendant between her fingers as if testing its weight. “Mmm. See, you say that, but your face tells me otherwise.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You can’t even see my face properly.”

“I can, actually.” She shifts slightly, her tone laced with quiet amusement. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying very hard not to look at me.”

Pressing your lips together, you refuse to engage. You are not having this conversation. Not now. Not with her.

Lilia, sensing your reluctance, does something entirely unexpected. She doesn’t push. She doesn’t pry, doesn’t tease, doesn’t demand an answer like she usually would. Instead, she just waits . Silent. Patient. Like she knows you’ll fill the space eventually.

And, god help you, you do.

“It was a gift,” you mutter after a long pause, still refusing to meet her gaze.

Lilia’s voice is softer now. “From someone important?”

You exhale slowly, rolling your shoulders as if that will somehow ease the weight in your chest. “Used to be.”

She doesn’t react right away. No sharp quip, no dramatic sigh, just a small, almost imperceptible pause before she asks, “Why don’t you wear it anymore?”

You swallow, grip tightening against the wheel. For a moment, you consider telling her, just saying the truth and getting it over with, but the words catch somewhere between your ribs, caught on something you don’t want to examine too closely. Instead, you sigh and settle for, “I just forgot about it.”

Lilia hums again, but this time, there’s something different in it, something unreadable. You risk a glance at her, just for a second, and catch the way she’s studying the necklace, brows slightly furrowed in thought. Then, just as quickly, the moment is gone. With an easy, practiced motion, she reaches forward and, without hesitation, tucks the necklace back into your glovebox. She doesn’t keep it, doesn’t press any further, just closes the compartment, leans back into her seat, and turns her gaze to the window.

It’s an unspoken message. Alright. You don’t have to tell me.

And somehow, that’s worse.

You’re not sure why it bothers you, the way she so easily dropped the subject, the way she just let it go . You should be relieved, grateful even, but you aren’t. Because Lilia Calderu never lets things go. She picks at them, teases and prods until she’s satisfied with the answer. And yet, this time, she didn’t. She just tucked the necklace away and turned her gaze to the window, like she hadn’t just stirred up something you weren’t ready to confront.

Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat, trying to shake the feeling settling over you. “That’s it?”

Lilia hums in acknowledgment, her tone absent. “Hmm?”

You drum your fingers against the wheel, restless. “You’re not going to keep pushing?”

Tilting her head slightly, she takes a moment to consider before offering a small, knowing smile. “Should I?”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You always do.”

Lilia smiles, something quiet and assured settling into her features. “Not always, cara .”

The words linger between you, light but weighted, something unspoken weaving its way into the silence. You glance at her, trying to read whatever it is she isn’t saying, but she’s already looking away, gaze fixed on the passing scenery, fingers idly toying with the hem of her sleeve.

And just like that, the moment shifts. Not gone, not forgotten, just set aside.

For now.

The rest of the drive is quieter, not awkward or tense, just… different. You can feel Lilia’s presence beside you, the soft scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the gentle rise and fall of her breath as she watches the road pass by. Even though she isn’t saying anything, even though she’s let the conversation drop, something lingers in the space between you, something unspoken, something new.

Eventually, you pull up outside her flat, the engine humming softly as the car slows to a stop. Lilia exhales and stretches slightly before unbuckling her seatbelt, her movements lazy and unhurried. “Well.”

You drum your fingers against the wheel, glancing at her. “You’re home.”

She turns to look at you, a small smirk tugging at her lips as if she’s already thought of some way to prolong this conversation. “So I am.”

Raising a brow, you shake your head. “Need me to carry you inside too?”

Lilia gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in exaggerated delight. “Oh, how generous of you to offer.”

Groaning, you lean your head back against the seat. “I was joking—”

She chuckles, already pushing the door open. “Next time, cara .”

Before you can reply, she’s gone, disappearing up the steps without another word, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and the lingering energy of a conversation that never quite finishes. You let out a slow breath, fingers tightening slightly around the wheel. Next time. Because, of course, there will be a next time.

The storm rolls in faster than expected. One minute, the sky is a moody grey, the kind that threatens rain but never quite delivers. The next, the heavens open up, unleashing a downpour that batters against your windscreen in thick, relentless sheets. The city shifts under the weight of the storm, neon lights reflecting against the wet pavement, headlights flickering through the haze of falling water.

Your phone buzzes from its place on the passenger seat.

Where are you?

You glance at the message, then at the name above it. Lilia.

With a sigh, you put the car into gear and pull away from the curb.

By the time you find her, she’s standing under the awning of a small, dimly lit shop, arms crossed, glaring at the rain as if it personally offended her. She looks miserable, hair damp from the mist, coat pulled tightly around her as she narrows her eyes at the storm like she’s trying to negotiate with it.

The moment she spots your car, her expression doesn’t change. No surprise. No overt gratitude. Just a quiet expectation, like she knew you would come.

Without hesitation, she pulls the door open and slides into the passenger seat in one smooth movement, sighing dramatically as she shoves her rain-speckled bag onto the floor. “Oh, cara ,” she breathes, her voice dripping with relief, “you are a saviour.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “You didn’t even ask me to come.”

Turning to you with an amused glint in her eyes, she tilts her head slightly. “Did I need to?”

Dragging a hand down your face, you groan. “I am far too accommodating.”

Lilia hums, peeling off her damp gloves with slow, deliberate movements. “Yes, but I love that about you.”

Shaking your head, you bite back a smirk and shift the car into drive, the rain pounding against the roof as the city lights blur into streaks of hazy gold and red through the wet windscreen. The whole world feels smaller, quieter, cocooned in the dim glow of the dashboard, the steady hum of the heater filling the space between you.

Lilia lets out a soft sigh, sinking further into her seat. Her coat is still damp, her hair curling slightly at the ends from the mist. Despite her usual composure, something about her feels smaller in this moment, softer, as if the rain has stripped away some of her usual theatrics.

She catches you looking. “What?” she murmurs, voice quieter than usual.

Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to the road. “Nothing.”

Her gaze lingers for a moment longer, as if searching for something in your expression, but eventually, she exhales and looks back out at the rain-streaked window. The only sound between you is the rhythmic drum of water against the glass, the city beyond fading into nothing but shadows and scattered light.

The storm doesn’t ease. If anything, it gets worse, thick sheets of water turning the streets into shimmering rivers, the wipers struggling to keep up as they scrape across the windscreen. Lilia hasn’t spoken in a while, which is unsettling in its own way. She’s always talking, always teasing or filling the silence with something dry and amused, but right now, she’s just watching the rain, fingers tracing absent patterns on the fogged-up window.

Something about it makes your grip on the wheel tighten.

“You didn’t have to wait out there,” you say, keeping your voice casual. “You could’ve just gone inside.”

She huffs a soft, amused breath, her fingers pausing briefly against the glass. “And sit in a dingy shop for an hour? Please.”

Shaking your head, you sigh. “Or, and hear me out, you could’ve taken a taxi.”

Lilia finally turns to look at you, lips curving slightly. “Now, cara , where’s the fun in that?”

There it is, that teasing lilt, the sharp glint in her eye that always makes it seem like she’s one step ahead of you. And yet, something still feels off, something barely there but enough for you to notice.

You don’t push. Instead, you sigh, flicking the wipers up a notch. “You’re lucky I like driving in the rain.”

Lilia exhales a soft laugh, rolling her head back against the seat. “You’re lucky I like being driven in the rain.”

That makes you smile, just a little. The storm rages on outside, wind howling through the narrow streets, but inside the car, everything is warm. Steady.

Neither of you speak for a while. It’s not uncomfortable, not tense, just… quiet, the kind of silence that settles between two people who have long since stopped needing to fill it. Still, something lingers beneath the surface, unspoken and just out of reach.

Clearing your throat, you glance at her again. “Where were you, anyway?”

Lilia tilts her head slightly, still gazing out at the rain-smeared city. “Nowhere important.”

You frown. “Nowhere important, yet you stood in the rain for how long?”

She exhales a soft chuckle, rolling her head to the side to meet your gaze. “I wasn’t waiting for you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

You give her a flat look. She smirks.

“Alright,” she concedes, “perhaps I was waiting a little .”

Scoffing, you shake your head, focus shifting back to the road. “You could’ve just called me.”

Something flickers in her expression, unreadable, as she watches you. “And you would’ve come?”

Frowning slightly, you glance at her out of the corner of your eye. “Obviously.”

For a moment, neither of you say anything. She looks at you for a beat too long, something thoughtful in the way her gaze lingers, not teasing, not amused, just waiting .

Then, very softly, she murmurs, “Why do you always come?”

The words settle between you, heavy despite the quiet way she says them. Your grip on the wheel tightens as you search for an answer, but none of the ones that come to mind feel right.

Because she asks. Because you’re friends, or something close to it. Because you’d rather her be sitting here, warm and dry, than standing outside like an idiot.

But somehow, none of those answers feel like enough.

Lilia doesn’t look away. She doesn’t push, doesn’t repeat the question, just watches you, waiting, like she already knows the answer you don’t want to say.

You swallow, shifting slightly. “Because you always ask.”

She hums, a quiet sound, unreadable, before turning back to the window, fingers still tracing slow, absent patterns against the fogged glass.

Letting out a slow breath, you keep your focus on the road, but the car suddenly feels too small.

The storm doesn’t let up, but eventually, you pull onto her street, easing the car to a slow stop outside her flat. Lilia doesn’t move right away, lingering for a moment as she watches the rain streak down the window. Her fingers tighten slightly around the door handle before she exhales, a quiet, almost reluctant sigh, and reaches for the latch.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, barely above the sound of the rain.

You blink, caught off guard. She never says thank you. She just expects things, acts as if they were inevitable, as if they would have happened regardless of her asking. But now, as she lingers with one foot out the door, her usual ease feels different, a little more deliberate, a little more fragile, like something practiced rather than natural.

She glances back, something flickering in her eyes that you can’t quite place. And then, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, she says, “I like it.”

Frowning slightly, you tilt your head. “Like what?”

Her lips quirk, something softer than a smirk but not quite a smile. “Being here. With you.”

Before you can process that, before you can think of a single thing to say, she’s already stepping out, disappearing up the steps and into the rain without another word. You don’t move, don’t shift, don’t even reach for the gear shift, just sit there staring at the empty passenger seat with your pulse pounding far too loud in your ears.

You don’t know why her words linger the way they do. It wasn’t a confession, wasn’t some grand declaration, just a simple truth, spoken softly in the rain. But somehow, it sticks. Lilia Calderu, who has spent the past few weeks making herself at home in your car, in your routine, had looked at you, really looked at you, and said: I like it. Being here. With you.

And now you can’t stop thinking about it.

The next time she gets in the car, you don’t think twice about it. You turn on the radio, flipping through stations before settling on something from your own playlist. It’s a song you love, something familiar, something comforting. You just want to listen to your music, for once, without her reaching over to change it.

Lilia, as always, settles in like she owns the place, adjusting her coat and sighing as she buckles herself in. She barely seems to notice at first, too preoccupied with getting comfortable, but then, just for a second, she stills. It’s quick, just a flicker of recognition, but it’s there. Then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, she hums along, perfectly in tune, like she’s heard it a hundred times before.

You nearly miss a turn.

“You know this song?” You glance at her, incredulous.

Lilia blinks, her expression unreadable. “Of course I do.”

Gripping the wheel a little tighter, you shake your head. “How?”

She shrugs, gaze flicking towards the radio. “Because you listen to it.”

Inhaling sharply, you try to brush off the way your stomach twists at her words. It shouldn’t surprise you, shouldn’t mean anything. And yet, the idea that she’s been paying attention, that she’s been listening all this time, unsettles something in you. Not in a bad way. Just… dangerously close to something you aren’t ready to name.

“You listen to what I play?” The question comes out before you can stop it.

Lilia hums, unbothered, as if the answer should be obvious. “Obviously.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “You don’t even like half the stuff I put on.”

She tilts her head slightly, considering the statement. “True.”

You wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Instead, she simply turns back to the window, tapping her fingers against her knee, humming along perfectly in tune with a song she shouldn’t know. Something about it does something to you, something quiet but persistent, something you can’t quite push away.

Because this is Lilia, dramatic, impossible, high-maintenance, and yet, somehow, she’s been sitting in your passenger seat, listening. Not just to the music, but to you . To the habits you don’t even notice yourself doing, to the things you wouldn’t expect her to remember.

Exhaling slowly, you flick your gaze back to the road, but your thoughts keep circling the same realisation. “So what, you’ve just been memorising my playlists this whole time?”

Lilia smirks, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh, cara , I memorised them weeks ago.”

You almost miss a light.

She’s enjoying this far too much, and you should be irritated, should call her out on how insufferable she is, but the words don’t come. Instead, you side-eye her, unimpressed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Lilia exhales a small, satisfied sigh, sinking back into her seat with the kind of ease only she can pull off. “And you’re still sticking around, I see.”

You open your mouth to argue, to tell her that’s not the point, but before you can, she does something unfair . Without hesitation, she reaches forward, casually, effortlessly, and turns up the volume.

And for the first time in weeks, she doesn’t change the song. She lets it play.

You don’t know why that makes your chest feel tight, but it does.

She has always taken over the car, always touching the controls, adjusting the mirrors, changing the temperature to suit her own very particular standards. But this—this is new. Instead of switching the song to something she prefers, instead of making a snide remark about your music taste, she simply turns up the volume and leaves it. Like she knows it matters. Like she knows you do.

You swallow, trying to focus on the road, but your grip on the wheel betrays you. Lilia, ever perceptive, notices. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease or smirk, just watches you quietly, something unreadable in her gaze.

Refusing to look at her, you clear your throat and ask, far too casually, “So, what’s your verdict?”

Lilia tilts her head slightly. “On?”

You gesture vaguely towards the speakers. “The song. Since you’re apparently an expert now.”

Humming in thought, she considers for a moment before answering. “Not bad.”

You scoff, shooting her a look. “Not bad ?”

She smirks, eyes glinting with amusement. “I prefer the one you played last week.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the wheel as you try not to react. “You remember what I played last week?”

She turns to face you fully now, her smirk deepening in a way that makes your stomach twist. “Oh, cara ,” she murmurs, voice slow, knowing, perfectly measured. “I remember everything .”

Your heart does something stupid.

You don’t react. You refuse to react. Instead, you exhale sharply, shaking your head as you focus on the road like your life depends on it.

Lilia chuckles, utterly pleased with herself, and leans back into her seat, settling in like she hasn’t just thrown your entire thought process into chaos. The song fades into the next track, something softer, something you hadn’t even realised was in the queue.

She hums along without hesitation.

And you?

You realise you’re already in too deep.

It happens unexpectedly, without errands, last minute texts, or assumed favours disguised as casual requests. Lilia slips into the passenger seat as effortlessly as breathing, settling in before saying, “Just drive.”

You blink, glancing at her. “What?”

She exhales, shifting slightly in her seat as she looks out the window. “Drive. Anywhere.”

Frowning, you watch her for a moment. “You don’t have anywhere to be?”

She shakes her head. “Not tonight.”

That alone makes your fingers twitch against the wheel. Lilia is always busy, always has something planned, even if that plan is just disrupting your day for her own amusement. But now, she’s sitting there, quiet, almost soft, asking you to drive with no destination in mind.

You could remind her that this isn’t normal, that you aren’t some on-demand service ready to whisk her away whenever she pleases. Instead, you shift into gear and drive.

The city rolls past in blurred streaks of gold and red, the rain from earlier still clinging to the streets, reflecting neon signs and street lamps. Lilia doesn’t speak for a while, resting her elbow against the door, fingers lightly touching her lips, lost in thought. You glance at her before turning your attention back to the road. “Everything alright?”

She hums, barely turning her head. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Shrugging, you gesture vaguely. “You’re usually more… dramatic.”

Lilia lets out a soft laugh, tipping her head back against the seat. “Am I?”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. That’s when it hits you, something does feels off. Not wrong, exactly. Just different. Lilia Calderu is unpredictable, exasperating, and completely incapable of sitting quietly for more than five minutes. But now, she’s quiet in a way that doesn’t feel like her usual theatrics. It feels real.

Drumming your fingers against the wheel, you glance at her again. “So… what’s this about?”

She exhales slowly. “Nothing.”

You arch a brow, unconvinced. “That’s a lie.”

Lilia smirks faintly. “You’re far too perceptive for your own good.”

“And yet, you still get in my car every time.”

She finally turns fully to face you, eyes glinting in the dim light. “Yes, well,” she murmurs, tilting her head slightly. “You keep picking me up.”

Your grip on the wheel tightens slightly as the streetlights stretch past in golden lines, the city thinning into quieter roads. The hum of the tyres against the wet pavement is the only sound between you. Lilia doesn’t push, just watches, waiting for you to say something else. You don’t. Instead, you keep driving.

Time feels strange, measured not in minutes but in the way the city fades behind you, in the steady hum of the engine, in the occasional flicker of passing headlights illuminating Lilia’s profile in brief flashes of gold. She hasn’t spoken in a while, just sits there, watching the road, tracing absent minded patterns against her knee. You should ask again, press her for an answer, demand to know why she suddenly needed to be anywhere but home.

Instead, you turn the volume up, just enough for the soft hum of a familiar song to fill the space between you. Lilia exhales, not a sigh, not a laugh, just a slow, measured breath, like something inside her has settled.

She shifts slightly, rolling her head to the side. “You always drive like this?”

You arch a brow. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t mind where you end up.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “You’re the one who told me to drive.”

“Yes, but you listened.”

Something about the way she says it makes your stomach twist in a way you don’t like. You should have questioned it more, should have reminded her that this isn’t normal. But you didn’t. You just drove, like it was inevitable, like it always is. Clearing your throat, you grip the wheel a little tighter. “You’re avoiding something.”

Lilia hums, her gaze still fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe.”

You glance at her, searching for something in her expression. “Are you going to tell me what?”

She exhales a soft laugh, rolling her head against the seat. “No.”

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Unbelievable.”

She smiles, smaller than usual, but genuine. “Well, what did you expect?”

At some point, you find yourself on the outskirts of the city, where the lights are fewer and the roads are quieter. Lilia stretches her arms in front of her before sinking back into the seat. “You know, this is nice.”

Raising a brow, you scoff. “What, me chauffeuring you around with no destination?”

Smirking, she nods. “Yes, exactly that.”

“You’re the ultimate passenger princess,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Lilia lets out a soft, delighted laugh. “Oh, cara , I love that title.”

Shaking your head, you shoot her a look. “Don’t get used to it.”

She places a hand over her heart in mock offence. “But it suits me so well.”

Somewhere along the road, she slips off her shoes. You don’t notice at first, not until she stretches out her legs, propping her feet up on the dashboard like she owns the place.

Frowning, you glance at her. “Put your feet down.”

Lilia hums, unbothered. “Mmm, no, I’m quite comfortable.”

Gripping the wheel, you shake your head. “It’s dangerous.”

She tilts her head, amused. “Oh, now you’re worried about my well-being?”

You shoot her a dry look. “If we crash, that’s the worst position to be in. You’d break your legs, Lilia.”

That gets her attention. She exhales, dramatically put upon, before slowly, lazily, sliding her feet back down. Then, after a beat, she turns to you with a slow, knowing smile.

“You care?”

You don’t react. You refuse to react. Instead, you scoff, shaking your head. “I care about not scraping you off my windscreen.”

Lilia chuckles, but there’s something in her eyes, something quiet, something thoughtful, that lingers longer than it should. She doesn’t put her feet back up, and for some reason, you don’t think it’s because of the safety warning.

The next song starts, something slower, something softer. Lilia leans her head back against the seat, watching the lights blur past.

After a moment, she says, “This reminds me of something.”

You flick a glance at her. “What?”

She tilts her head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It’s just… familiar.”

She doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t turn it into a joke or make a snide remark about your music taste. She just listens.

You grip the wheel. “You never said why you needed to get out tonight.”

Lilia hums. “No, I didn’t.”

You wait, but she doesn’t fill the silence. For a moment, you consider pressing her again, but then she shifts slightly, gaze flicking toward you.

And ever so softly, she says, “Do you ever get tired of sitting still?”

The question catches you off guard. You glance at her, at the way she’s watching you, quiet, steady, something unreadable in her expression.

You exhale. “Sometimes.”

She hums, turning her gaze back to the road. “Me too.”

And just like that, it makes sense. Why she asked you to drive, why she needed this, not a place, not an errand, just motion. Just the act of going .

Loosening your grip on the wheel, you let the quiet settle between you. “Where to next, then?”

Lilia tilts her head towards the window, a pleased sigh escaping her lips. “Anywhere,” she murmurs.

And for the first time, you realise, you don’t mind where you end up. As long as she’s in the passenger seat.

Another late evening, not planned or intentional, just another drive that lasts longer than expected. The city fades behind you, the dim glow of the dashboard casting soft light over the quiet interior. Lilia is relaxed, reclining slightly with one hand resting on her lap, the other playing absently with the edge of her sleeve. The window is cracked open just enough to let in the cool night air, and the music hums low beneath the steady rhythm of the tyres against the road.

The silence between you isn’t awkward or heavy, just quiet, settled, a pause in motion.

After a while, her voice breaks through. “Do you know what my favourite part of the day is?”

Glancing at her, you frown. “What?”

She doesn’t look at you, eyes still on the darkened streets rolling past. “This,” she murmurs. “Right now.”

The words are spoken softly, casually, as if they don’t carry any weight. But somehow, they do. Lilia is never careless with what she says, never throws words out without purpose. She means it, and the realisation catches you off guard.

Your hands tighten slightly on the wheel, just enough to notice, just enough to feel something shift. Lilia remains quiet, her expression unreadable as the streetlights cast flickering shadows across her face.

“You’re being sentimental,” you say, trying to shake the feeling settling in your chest.

She tilts her head slightly, considering. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

Lilia exhales a small, amused breath. “And what’s so wrong with that?”

There’s no real answer. Nothing wrong with the way she’s sitting there, completely at ease, speaking like it’s the easiest truth in the world. As if of course this is her favourite part of the day. As if of course you should already know that.

Ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck, you focus on the road. “You’re only saying that because I’m driving you around.”

She scoffs, turning to you with an amused smirk. “Oh, cara . If I only liked you for your driving skills, we’d be in serious trouble.”

It throws you off—not the words themselves, but the way she says them. Teasing, but with something else beneath the surface. Something real, something you don’t want to look at too closely.

Clearing your throat, you shake your head. “So you just like wasting petrol?”

Lilia chuckles, shaking her head. “No,” she murmurs.

Then, quieter, almost lost under the music, “I just like you .”

Your heart stumbles, caught between one beat and the next, before your brain fully registers what she just said. Before you can react, before you can even process it, Lilia stretches, sighing as if she hasn’t just sent your entire evening into chaos.

“Anyway,” she muses, shifting in her seat, “you should turn left up here.”

She says it like nothing happened, like she didn’t just throw a conversational grenade into the quiet and leave you to deal with the wreckage. Your grip tightens around the wheel as you force yourself to breathe.

She has to be playing with you.

Because if she’s not, if she actually meant that, then you’re in serious trouble.

Keeping your focus on the road, you ignore the way your pulse is hammering far too loud in your ears. Lilia, perfectly at ease, stretches again, shifting in her seat, looking entirely unbothered after casually dropping I just like you into the conversation.

“You can’t just say things like that,” you mutter, trying to regain control of your own thoughts.

She turns to you, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Exhaling sharply, you shake your head. “You know what.”

Lilia hums, pretending to think. “Oh. That I like you?”

Your pulse jumps again.

She’s messing with you. She has to be. But the way she says it, so easily, so casually , makes you hesitate. She doesn’t sound like she’s joking.

Risking a glance at her, you search for something in her expression, anything to confirm that this is just another one of her games. But she only smirks, resting her chin on her hand, watching you like she’s waiting to see how you’ll react.

“You say things just to wind me up,” you accuse, grasping at the familiar, at the safest explanation.

Lilia exhales a soft laugh, eyes gleaming. “Oh, cara ,” she murmurs smoothly.

“But what if I don’t?”

Your stomach twists, because this time, for the first time, you can’t tell if she’s joking.

For the first time, you think maybe, maybe, she actually means it.

You don’t have a response. Since Lilia Calderu first invited herself into your car, your routine, your space, you’ve always had something to say. A sharp remark, a dry comment, something to push back against her impossible presence. But now, you have nothing.

Because this isn’t just a passing comment. It isn’t playful teasing.

It means something.

And the way she’s looking at you, smirking but watching , waiting for you to slip, to react, only makes it worse.

Gritting your teeth, you keep your eyes on the road. “I think you enjoy getting a reaction out of me.”

Lilia chuckles, low and knowing. “That is true.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Of course it is.”

She leans back in her seat, gaze drifting lazily toward the road ahead. “But that’s not all of it.”

Your breath catches.

She doesn’t explain, doesn’t elaborate, just lets the words settle as if they don’t mean everything.

And maybe it’s better that way.

Because if she keeps going, if she says it outright, if she makes you acknowledge the thing that has been building between you with every drive, every glance, every almost, then you’re done for.

Rolling your shoulders, you inhale deeply, keeping your tone light. “You’re insufferable.”

Lilia sighs, entirely too amused. “But, cara , you keep picking me up.”

Your lips twitch, despite yourself.

Despite the weight of the moment, despite everything she’s just said, you let it pass. You let the tension settle back into something easier, something unspoken but understood, because you’re not ready.

Not yet.

But one day, you will be.

And from the way Lilia smiles, watching you out of the corner of her eye, you think she knows that, too.

It doesn’t happen the way you expect.

Not in some grand, dramatic moment. Not after a carefully timed confession or a lingering, loaded silence.

It happens in the car.

Of course it does.

The night is quiet as the city winds down, the distant hum of traffic fading as you pull onto Lilia’s street. Neither of you have spoken much since that conversation the other day. Not because the silence is uncomfortable, but because it isn’t, and somehow, that’s worse. It lingers, steady and unforced, neither of you rushing to fill it. Comfortable, familiar, dangerously close to something else.

You shift the car into park, fingers still curled around the wheel. “You’re home.”

Lilia hums, stretching slightly before unbuckling her seatbelt, but she doesn’t move to leave. She lingers, waiting. You don’t know for what, but something in the air changes. Slowly, deliberately, she turns to you.

This time, it’s different. There’s no teasing, no smug amusement, just quiet certainty as she studies you, her expression unreadable. She watches you in that way she does when she’s about to push, just far enough to see if you’ll break.

You exhale, trying to keep your voice even. “What?”

Lilia tilts her head slightly, considering you for a moment before speaking. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

Your heart stutters, your brain freezing mid thought. Lilia never hesitates to say things that leave you exasperated, but not like this. Not with this softness, this matter-of-fact certainty, as if she already knows the answer.

Your grip tightens on the wheel. “Excuse me?”

She hums, watching you carefully, as if you’re a puzzle she’s already solved. “You heard me.”

You shake your head, forcing a scoff, trying to push through the sudden heat creeping up your neck. “You are unbelievable.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “That’s not a no.”

You should argue, should roll your eyes and brush it off, but she’s still looking at you, head tilted, gaze steady, completely unrushed. The air inside the car shifts, closing in around you, too warm, too charged, the space between you impossibly small.

Clearing your throat, you shake your head, trying to level yourself. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Lilia exhales slowly, something amused, something knowing. “I can,” she murmurs, voice low.

And then she leans in, just enough.

The movement is subtle, a quiet shift that sends your stomach flipping, your pulse kicking up as the weight of the moment settles over you. You should push it away, should find something clever to say, should laugh like this doesn’t mean anything. But it does. It always has.

Lilia is watching you, her gaze flickering over your face, soft and knowing, waiting. She knew. She’s always known.

You should say something, should throw up some final defence before it’s too late. But she’s still there, impossibly close, and for the first time, you don’t want to pretend.

Exhaling slowly, you glance between her and the space between you, small, so small. “Lilia,” you murmur.

She tilts her head slightly, voice soft. “Yes, cara ?”

Your fingers flex against the wheel. If she smirked, if she turned this into another game, maybe you could resist. But she doesn’t. She just looks at you, patient, sure, like she knows you’ll come to her. Like she’s been waiting.

And so, without thinking, without hesitating, without giving yourself the chance to stop—

You close the distance.

Kissing Lilia Calderu feels like pressing your lips to something dangerous. She lets you kiss her, doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just stays perfectly still, waiting, letting you decide. But the second she knows you have, she takes.

Her fingers curl around your collar, pulling you in, her lips moving against yours with a slow, devastating kind of certainty. The breath you let out is shaky, and she smiles against your mouth. That’s what undoes you. You deepen it, just slightly, just enough to hear her exhale, to feel the way she melts against you.

Then, finally, she pulls back, just enough to murmur, breathless and utterly pleased, “I knew you wanted to kiss me.”

You groan, dropping your forehead against the steering wheel as heat creeps up your neck. Lilia laughs, delighted, entirely too satisfied with herself. Just to make it worse, she presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek before slipping out of the car, moving with an ease that makes it clear she’s won.

Pausing at the door, she glances back, smirking. “See you tomorrow, cara .”

And just like that, she’s gone.

You sit there gripping the wheel, heart racing, breath uneven, completely finished. Because you know tomorrow will come, and when it does, you’ll pick her up again. This time, you won’t even pretend it’s just a favour.

The next time Lilia gets into your car, something has changed. She moves with quiet confidence, her gaze knowing as she fastens her seatbelt, entirely too composed for someone who kissed you and left like it meant nothing. The shift isn’t just in her, though. It’s in you. The air feels heavier, charged with something unspoken. Your pulse kicks up as she settles into the seat beside you, and despite the cool night air, your skin feels too warm.

She’s sitting there like nothing happened, acting as if the tension between you is the same as it’s always been. But it isn’t.

Gripping the wheel, you glance at her. “You’re quiet.”

She tilts her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Am I?”

You scoff, barely holding back an eye-roll. “Don’t play innocent.”

She exhales a soft laugh, her voice amused but deliberate. “Oh, cara . I’d never.”

The teasing is familiar, but there’s something else beneath it, something intentional. The silence that follows stretches too long, making the car feel smaller. You clear your throat, focusing on the road. “Where are we going?”

She runs her fingers absently along her knee, her movements slow and unhurried. “Does it matter?”

It doesn’t, and that’s the problem. The destination was never the point. She could ask you to drive for hours, and you would, just to keep her in the passenger seat, just to hear her voice, just to let this thing between you linger a little longer before it finally snaps.

She shifts slightly, crossing one leg over the other, her dress sliding higher over her thigh. You notice. She notices you noticing. When your gaze flickers toward her, she’s already smirking.

“You’re staring.”

Tearing your eyes back to the road, you shake your head. “You’re imagining things.”

She hums, fingers brushing lightly against her collarbone. “Mmm. Am I?”

The warmth pressing against your skin has nothing to do with the temperature in the car. She’s watching you, knowing exactly what she’s doing, waiting for you to react. The way she leans back, the way her fingers skim lazily over her throat, the way she studies you from the corner of her eye, all of it is deliberate.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” you mutter, gripping the wheel tighter.

She barely suppresses a laugh. “Doing what?”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “You know what.”

She shifts in her seat, the movement slow, calculated, the fabric of her dress sliding a little higher. “You’re the one getting distracted, cara .”

Your pulse spikes, but you keep your attention on the road, trying to ignore the way she’s looking at you, the way she moves like she’s already won. Your grip on the wheel tightens. “You’re a menace.”

Lilia smiles, but she doesn’t say anything. The silence that follows stretches too long, weighted and expectant.

Then she shifts closer, just slightly, just enough to send a warning through your entire body. When she speaks again, her voice is lower, quieter, something softer at the edges.

“Pull over.”

Your stomach tightens as you glance at her, pulse pounding. “What?”

Her gaze flickers over you, catching on the way your hands grip the wheel, the way your breathing has changed, the way you’re barely keeping yourself together. She watches, studying every flicker of restraint before she repeats herself, so casually, so devastatingly sure of the outcome.

“Pull over.”

This is the moment where you lose.

There’s no hesitation, no argument, no second guessing. Without thinking, you ease the car off the road. The moment it’s in park, Lilia moves. She isn’t rushed, isn’t desperate, just sure. She shifts toward you, already too close when you turn to face her. Her fingers slide along your jaw, tilting your face slightly, her nails scratching faintly against your skin.

Your breath catches as she studies you, her gaze dark and pleased, her attention flickering over your parted lips, the tension in your posture, the way you grip the seat like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. She leans in, breath warm against your lips, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Still distracted, cara ?”

You don’t answer because you can’t.

Without thinking, without hesitation, without giving yourself a chance to stop, you crash your mouth against hers like you’ve needed this for weeks.

Lilia gasps, and you swallow it, slipping your hands into her hair, tilting her head back as you kiss her deeper. She melts for a moment before recovering, smirking against your mouth, tugging at your collar as she pulls you closer, pressing against you like she’s wanted this just as badly. A growl escapes your throat as her nails scrape against the bare skin at the back of your neck, sending a sharp shiver down your spine.

Then, just to drive you insane, she bites your bottom lip.

That’s it.

That’s the moment you break.

You lose control too easily, the second her teeth graze your lip, the second she exhales, breathless and utterly pleased. Pressing her back against the seat, one hand curls around her thigh while the other tangles into her hair as you deepen the kiss.

She welcomes it, sighing against your mouth, fingers tightening around your collar, pulling you closer. She tastes like wine and something sweet, something unmistakably Lilia , and it’s intoxicating. You nip at her jaw, dragging your lips down the slope of her throat, and she laughs, low and delighted, like she knew this would happen, like she wanted to be proven right.

“Finally,” she breathes, smug and utterly satisfied.

Huffing against her skin, you press a slow kiss just below her ear. “You are so smug.”

She tilts her head, offering you more, fingers slipping beneath your jacket, nails scraping lightly against your spine. You shudder, and she feels it. She smiles, completely pleased with herself.

“What are you going to do about it?”

Her voice is sweet, taunting, eyes half-lidded as she watches you struggle to hold on to the last shred of control. She’s waiting for you to lose yourself completely, to give in, to let her win.

And god help you, you do.

You claim her mouth again, devouring the smirk off her lips as your hands slide beneath the hem of her dress, fingertips grazing heated skin. Her gasp stirs something dark and wanting in your chest, something that has been building for far too long.

Then—

A sharp knock against the window.

You freeze.

Lilia stills beneath you, her breath catching.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then—

Her lips twitch.

She giggles.

Groaning, you drop your forehead onto her shoulder, trying not to kill whoever just ruined this. Lilia, of course, is absolutely delighted, her voice teasing as she exhales against your ear.

“Oh, cara ,” she whispers, breathless, wrecked, and entirely too pleased with herself. “You poor thing.”

Gripping the wheel, you inhale sharply, forcing yourself to breathe. But one thing is certain, you are not driving her home yet.

Not until you finish what she started.

You don’t look at whoever knocked, don’t acknowledge them, don’t even care. Without a word, you shift the car back into drive, gripping the wheel tightly as you pull away from the curb. The silence is thick and unrelenting, pressing down on you like a weight neither of you can ignore. Lilia doesn’t speak, doesn’t tease, doesn’t do anything except sit in the passenger seat, her presence palpable in the quiet tension that lingers between you.

The city lights fade behind you as you drive further out, leaving behind the busy streets and the watchful eyes of strangers. The road stretches ahead, long and empty, the world outside growing darker with every mile. You don’t stop, don’t ask where you’re going, don’t explain. She doesn’t ask. She already knows.

The air in the car is charged, thick with anticipation, every passing second winding the tension tighter. The only sound is the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic beat of your pulse in your ears. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s weighted, filled with everything you were about to do before you were interrupted.

You don’t stop until you’re far from the city, where the roads are deserted and the only light comes from the dim glow of the dashboard. Pulling off onto a secluded stretch of road, you finally park, hands still gripping the wheel as you exhale slowly, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to release the tension coiled in your muscles.

“Get in the back,” you say, voice low and steady.

Lilia lifts a brow, amusement flickering across her face as she shifts slightly in her seat. “Oh? Are we in a hurry?”

Your patience is already razor thin, and she knows it. She’s playing with you, testing the limits of your control, pushing just far enough to see how much restraint you have left. Your hand moves before you can stop yourself, gripping her thigh firmly, fingers pressing into warm, soft skin as you drag her closer, your breath ghosting against her lips.

“Lilia,” you murmur, your voice a warning, not a request.

Something shifts in her expression, the smirk faltering just slightly as her breath catches. Her thighs press together beneath your hand, and in that moment, she understands. She knows you aren’t bluffing. She knows exactly how much you need this. She knows that if she doesn’t move now, you won’t hesitate to take her right here, seatbelt be damned.

She doesn’t rush, she never does, but she listens. With slow, deliberate movements, she slips into the backseat, her dress riding higher as she stretches out against the leather, watching you with quiet, knowing amusement. The heat in her gaze is unmistakable, her body language an invitation you don’t intend to ignore.

Your jaw tightens as you inhale sharply, steadying yourself for just a moment before you follow, knowing there’s no turning back now.

The moment you shut the door behind you, Lilia grins, tilting her head slightly, fingers curling against her knee. “Finally joining me?” she purrs, voice smooth and teasing.

You don’t answer. There’s no hesitation, no thought beyond the heat coiling between you. You grip her hips, dragging her against you, pressing her back against the seat as your mouth crashes against hers. She moans, breathless and eager, hands fisting into your jacket, nails scraping along the nape of your neck as she pulls you impossibly closer. The kiss is hungry, desperate, every sound she makes only spurring you on. Pressing your thigh between her legs, you feel the sharp hitch of her breath as she grinds against you.

Instinct takes over, sharp and electric, as you push her dress higher, sliding your palm up the smooth skin of her inner thigh. The moment your fingers barely graze the damp heat between her legs, she whimpers—soft, needy, utterly wrecked. The sound freezes you, stealing the breath from your lungs. That single, helpless noise will be the death of you.

Leaning in, your breath skims over her lips. “Again,” you murmur, voice thick with want. “Let me hear you.”

For weeks, she’s teased, played the game, stayed in control, always knowing just how far to push. But now, she obeys. Another whimper, quieter but just as devastating, escapes her lips, and it’s enough to ruin you completely.

Your grip tightens on her thigh, spreading her legs wider, fingers dragging along the heat of her skin, not quite where she needs you but close enough to make her squirm. Her head tilts back, lips parting as she exhales a shaky breath. Smirking, you press your lips against the curve of her throat, letting your teeth graze just enough to make her shudder.

“You look good like this,” you murmur against her skin.

Lilia lets out a breathy laugh. “Like what, cara ?”

Your lips brush her pulse as your fingers skim higher, teasing, making her tremble beneath your touch. “Needy.”

She gasps, a real, helpless little sound, and that is what finally shatters the last of your restraint. There’s no more teasing, no more patience. Sliding your fingers beneath the damp fabric between her legs, you groan at how wet she already is.

Lilia moans, her back arching as her hands clutch at your shoulders. You swallow the sound, pressing your fingers deeper, slow and deliberate, curling just right—

She shakes beneath you, breath catching, nails digging into your skin as she moves against your hand, chasing friction, chasing you. You watch her, the way her lashes flutter, the way her body reacts to every touch, the way she falls apart beneath your hands.

“You love this, don’t you?”

Lilia nods, voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes.”

You’re done for.

The second you give her what she wants, she whimpers again, thighs trembling as your fingers curl deeper, moving in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing her open, coaxing her closer. Her head falls back against the seat, lips parted as she gasps, body shuddering as she grinds against your hand.

Your smirk is against her lips, teasing, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Say it.”

She tries to speak, but her breath hitches as your fingers pick up their rhythm, slow but relentless, pushing her higher, closer, until—

“I—” she chokes out, her nails digging into your shoulders, her body taut with tension.

Then you flick your thumb over her clit, pressing down just enough, and she breaks.

“Fuck, yes—”

A growl rumbles from your throat as she shudders beneath you, her hips jerking, legs shaking. Watching her come undone is intoxicating. “That’s my girl.”

Lilia moans, high and helpless, and something about the way she completely gives in, the way she lets you take her apart, makes your own restraint snap. You kiss her deeply, swallowing every gasp, every breathless plea as your fingers keep moving, fucking into her with purpose, dragging her higher, right to the edge.

She’s close, you can feel it, the way her body tightens, the way her breathing turns ragged. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost pleading—

“Please—”

A groan tears from your throat as you press against her, curling your fingers one last time.

Lilia shatters.

Her body tenses, her back arching, head tipping back as she gasps, hands clenching around you as she comes apart completely. It’s beautiful.

You watch her, hold her through it, pressing soft kisses against her jaw as her body slowly, slowly comes down. Her breath is still uneven, fingers still gripping you like she’s afraid to let go.

Smirking, you run your nose along her cheek, murmuring, utterly pleased with yourself.

The moment you shut the door, Lilia smirks, breathless and utterly wrecked, but the glint in her eyes tells you she’s not done. She stretches out against the seat like she’s settling onto a throne, self-satisfied and pleased with herself, fingers trailing lazily up your chest as she tilts her head.

“Mmm. Just thinking,” she muses, voice smooth and teasing.

You narrow your eyes. “That’s never a good sign.”

She grins, wicked and knowing. “No, it really isn’t.”

Before you let her question it, you move. 

You grab her by the waist, trying to shift her onto your lap, but the cramped space makes it awkward. She lets out a breathy laugh as she braces her hands against your shoulders, knees knocking against the seat as she tries to settle over you. It’s messy, uncoordinated, her dress riding up in the struggle, and by the time she finally straddles you properly, you’re both breathless for an entirely different reason.

Then, before she can say something smug about it, you grip her hips and press her down, forcing her to grind against your thigh. The laughter catches in her throat, replaced by a sharp gasp as the friction sends a shudder through her. Nails digging into your shoulders as she clings to you. She’s still soaking wet from earlier, still sensitive, still desperate, and now she’s grinding against you, rolling her hips as you force her to chase the pleasure.

Your breath is hot against her skin as you murmur, “What was that, princess? You wanted me to do something?”

Her thighs tighten around you, and she shudders. “Oh, fuck—”

You groan at the sound, gripping her hips tighter, guiding her, making her move exactly how you want. She whimpers, fisting your jacket, her body trembling as she grinds harder against your thigh.

“You talk too much,” you whisper, pressing your lips against the soft skin beneath her ear. The moan she lets out is high and breathless, her confidence wavering under your touch.

You slide your hands beneath her dress, fingers grazing along her bare waist, pulling her flush against you, making her feel every inch of your control. She exhales a shaky sigh, forehead pressing against yours, before her voice drops to barely a whisper.

“Touch me.”

Your blood boils. She’s already wrecked, already falling apart, and now she’s begging? You can’t make her wait, not when she’s pressing against you like she needs this, like she needs you again.

Your hand moves between her thighs, fingers teasing her, dragging along the heat of her skin before finally pushing against the soaked fabric between her legs. Lilia gasps, her hips rolling instinctively, chasing your touch. Her nails dig into your shoulders as she whimpers, desperate, wrecked, completely at your mercy.

“Fuck,” she whispers, voice broken, raw.

You smirk against her throat, dragging your lips along the delicate skin, teasing her, taunting her. “What was that, princess?”

She whimpers, body trembling as your fingers slip beneath the fabric and slide inside her. Her hips stutter, grinding down against your hand, her entire body reacting to you.

“You—” she chokes out, nails scraping down your back, “you bastard—”

You chuckle darkly, curling your fingers inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her shudder. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

Lilia’s breath catches, her hips jerking as she grinds against you, chasing every stroke of your fingers, chasing you. You love this, love how she’s already close, her thighs shaking, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps.

“Oh, fuck—”

You don’t let up.

You kiss her hard, devouring her moans, swallowing every gasp as you fuck her open, your thumb pressing against her clit, relentless, pushing her right to the edge.

Until she breaks.

She cries out, her back arching, her body trembling, thighs clenching around you as pleasure rips through her. You hold her through it, dragging her through every wave, savoring the way she falls apart in your arms.

When she finally collapses against you, breathless and wrecked, forehead pressing against your shoulder, you smirk, dragging your fingers through the mess between her legs, your voice low and teasing.

“Oh, princess—”

Lilia shudders, still trembling against you, but the second she gathers herself, you know—

She isn’t done yet.

The second she recovers from the wreckage you left her in, she moves. The shift is clumsy in the cramped space, her knee knocking into the seat as she struggles to maneuver herself, but it doesn’t stop her. She barely gives herself room before she presses into you, hands slipping over your body with a deliberate slowness, feeling, teasing, learning exactly how to unravel you the way you just did her.

Her fingers trail down your stomach, pressing over the fabric of your jeans, feeling the heat beneath, smirking when she finds you already aching for her. She’s smug, insufferable, dragging her palm over you through the denim, watching the way your breath catches, the way your body tenses. The teasing touch is just enough to make you squirm, not nearly enough to give you what you need.

You growl, grabbing at her hips, trying to grind up into her touch, but she just chuckles, dragging her nails up your stomach in lazy, infuriating strokes. “So impatient,” she murmurs, leaning in, her breath hot against your lips. “Let me take my time.”

She moves carefully, hands working at your jeans, shimmying them down awkwardly, shifting back as she struggles to get them past your thighs in the tight space. It’s clumsy, far from the elegant seduction she’s probably envisioning, and she lets out a frustrated breath when the fabric catches on the seat. You snort, arching a brow. “Having trouble, princess?”

Lilia glares at you, jaw tight, before yanking them down with more force, successfully freeing you but nearly kneeing you in the process. “Shut up.”

You chuckle, but it dies in your throat when she settles between your thighs, her hands spreading over your bare skin, smoothing upward, her nails scraping just enough to make you shudder.

She exhales softly, her expression shifting, losing its teasing edge, darkening with something else entirely. Her fingers trail between your legs, brushing over you just once, featherlight, enough to make your breath catch.

“Oh, cara,” she purrs, voice smooth, slow, utterly pleased. “You’re already so wet for me.”

Your stomach tightens.

She slides her fingers lower, pressing down just slightly, teasing, not yet giving you what you need. She’s watching you closely, taking in every reaction, every flicker of anticipation, every tiny twitch of your body beneath her hands.

You exhale sharply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you force yourself to look at her, meeting her gaze head-on. “Stop teasing.”

Lilia smirks, dragging her fingers up again, slipping just barely beneath the fabric still covering you. “You want me to stop?”

Your jaw tightens. “You know what I meant.”

She hums, pretending to consider, before leaning in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just above your hip, fingers slipping fully beneath your underwear now, dragging over the slick heat between your thighs.

You inhale sharply, hips jerking at the contact, and she grins against your skin.

“There’s my good girl,” she murmurs, tracing a slow circle over your clit, barely applying pressure, just enough to make you whimper.

Your hands fist into the seat, your body twitching at the deliberate pace she’s setting. She’s barely even started, but you already feel too sensitive, too on edge, the anticipation almost unbearable.

She watches you, eyes dark, utterly absorbed in every reaction, and then, finally, finally, she slides her fingers lower, sinking one inside you, slow, controlled, teasing you with every inch.

Your breath shudders.

Lilia exhales a pleased hum, tilting her head, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way your body clenches around her.

“Oh, cara,” she purrs, curling her finger just right, pressing against that spot that makes you gasp. “You take me so well.”

You whimper, head falling back, nails digging into the leather seat as she strokes inside you, slow, deliberate, coaxing every little sound from your lips.

She leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Do you want more?”

You nod, words failing you, breath ragged.

Lilia chuckles, sliding another finger inside you, stretching you just right, her palm pressing against your clit as she picks up the rhythm, stroking deep, slow, torturous.

Your hips roll instinctively, chasing the pressure, and she groans at the way you move for her, how responsive you are, how easily she has you unraveling in her hands.

“So eager,” she breathes, curling her fingers again, pressing harder, making your thighs shake. “I could make you come just like this.”

You moan, head spinning, everything narrowing to the slow, devastating drag of her fingers inside you, the way she’s murmuring against your skin, the way her lips brush over your jaw, her breath warm, teasing, unbearable.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmurs, voice rough, admiring. “Falling apart for me.”

You whimper, grinding against her hand, chasing that edge she’s so carefully pulling you toward.

She speeds up, pressing her palm down, her fingers moving just right, just perfect, and it’s too much, too good, too overwhelming.

You cry out, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashes over you, your thighs trembling, your breath shattering, everything breaking apart beneath her touch.

Lilia groans, watching you fall apart, letting you ride it out, stroking you through every wave, pressing her lips to your temple as your body slowly relaxes, your pulse still pounding, your mind hazy.

She stays there, holding you, pressing slow kisses along your cheek, your jaw, whispering things too soft for you to catch, things meant only for you.

And when you finally come back to yourself, breath still uneven, Lilia pulls back just slightly, her lips brushing against your ear, voice still rough, still teasing.

“Oh, cara,” she whispers, trailing her fingers through the mess between your thighs, utterly satisfied.

“You look so pretty when you beg.”

You roll your eyes.

Lilia is sitting there, hair a beautiful mess, her lips definitely too red but not from her lipstick, her thighs still bare. She’s smirking, entirely too pleased with herself, radiating self-satisfaction as she stretches lazily against the seat. You groan, throwing your arm over your eyes, already dreading the inevitable smug remarks. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Lilia chuckles, tilting her head, fingers idly tracing patterns against your stomach. “Like what, cara?”

You lift your arm just enough to glare at her. “Like you won something.”

She hums, her nails skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that you absolutely refuse to acknowledge. “Oh, but I did.”

Your jaw tightens. Because she’s right, and she knows it.

You roll your head back against the seat, exhaling sharply, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. Big mistake. Lilia shifts, leaning in, her breath warm against your throat, her lips brushing against your skin, teasing, testing. Her voice is a soft, satisfied purr. “You were so sweet for me, cara.”

You shiver, and she notices.

She always notices.

Her lips graze your jaw, lingering just enough to make your stomach twist, and then, utterly pleased with herself, she whispers, “Would you like to do it again?”

Your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your gut, because you would. You absolutely would. And from the way Lilia watches you, lips curved, gaze half lidded and knowing, she already knows that.

You should feel sated, triumphant, satisfied, at peace. Instead, you’re lying in the backseat of your own car, exhausted, tangled up in Lilia, who looks entirely too smug. You groan, covering your face with your arm again. “I’m never driving you anywhere again.”

Lilia laughs, stretching beside you, unbothered, fingertips dancing absentmindedly over your skin. “Oh, cara,” she muses, voice like silk and satisfaction, “we both know that’s a lie.”

You tense, because she’s right. She always is. She knows you too well, knows exactly how to push you, how to unravel you, how to get what she wants.

You exhale, tilting your head and moving your arm just enough to glance at her, watching the way she smirks, the way she looks at you like you’re her favourite thing to toy with. You meet her gaze, let the silence stretch just long enough to make her think she’s won, then smirk right back.

“Oh, cara,” you murmur, voice low, teasing, throwing her own words right back at her.

Lilia stills for just a second, just long enough for her breath to hitch, for her eyes to flicker with something warm, something unguarded. But then she grins, shaking her head. “Stealing my lines now?” she muses, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

You shrug, exhaling through your nose, settling deeper into the seat. “You make it too easy.”

She hums, fingers still tracing faint patterns against your ribs, amusement flickering in her gaze. “Oh, baby,” she says, and you know, you just know she’s about to say something infuriating.

And you’re right.

She tilts her head, watching you with quiet amusement. “You know you’re driving me home.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “You are the worst.”

She hums, entirely too content. “Mmm. But—” She stretches, arching her back, looking entirely too smug. “You keep picking me up.”

You sigh, shaking your head.

Because she’s right.

Of course she’s right.

You were always going to pick her up.

It should have changed after that night. After everything. But somehow, it doesn’t.

Lilia still texts you at inconvenient hours, still waits outside with her arms crossed, expecting you to pull up, still slides into the passenger seat like she belongs there, draping herself over the chair with a dramatic sigh as she adjusts the temperature to her exact preference. And you? You still pick her up.

Because of course you do.

You’d like to pretend there’s some resistance left in you, some shred of dignity after what happened in the backseat of this very car, but there isn’t. There never was.

One evening, she gets in, stretching luxuriously as she settles into the seat, utterly unbothered. You glance at her, unimpressed. “You do have a driver’s licence, right?”

She scoffs, looking at you like the question alone is insulting. “Of course I do.”

You hum, drumming your fingers against the wheel. “Ever use it?”

Lilia shrugs, smirking. “Not when I have you.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You are so spoiled.”

She leans in slightly, voice mockingly sweet, her lips grazing your jaw just to be obnoxious. “And yet, cara—”

You groan, already knowing what’s coming. You finish her sentence for her, “I keep picking you up.”

She grins, and with an exasperated sigh, you put the car into gear. Because, once again, she’s right.

No matter how many times you threaten to make Lilia take the bus, no matter how often you grumble about being at her beck and call, you always pick her up. And she always waits for you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is, how natural. How seamlessly your life has shifted to accommodate her presence in your passenger seat. And the worst part? You like it.

One evening, you’re parked outside her flat, engine running, waiting for her to come down. The usual. Except tonight, she doesn’t rush. She stands in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with a look you can’t quite place.

You frown, rolling down the window. “What?”

She hums, tilting her head. “Nothing.”

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

Lilia steps closer, bending slightly to rest her arms on the edge of the window, her gaze warm, knowing. “I’m just wondering something.”

You sigh, already tired. “Which is?”

Her lips quirk slightly, but there’s something softer in her expression. “If I stopped waiting for you,” she murmurs, “would you still show up?”

The question shouldn’t make your chest feel tight. You should roll your eyes, scoff, say something dismissive and move on. But you don’t.

Because you know the answer.

And so does she.

You inhale slowly, grip tightening on the wheel before exhaling, resigned. “Get in the car, Lilia.”

She smiles, pleased, like she’s just confirmed something for herself. Then, as always, she slides into the passenger seat like she belongs there.

Because, of course, she does.

And you? You were always going to pick her up. No matter what.

[mbbmz]

I agree with your rindou being an ass man. His brother is for the boobs, but rindou is all about ass

THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYIIIIIING that right there is the duality of the Haitani brothers, one takes the ass and the other gets the tits, I couldn’t NOT write for this.

Tits man RAN headcanons, let’s go..

(Slight NSFW under the cut)

It’s a problem, because Ran has zero shame about it. He loves you, obviously, but your tits?

They’re his religion.

Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, cooking, sleeping, brushing your teeth, existing— if Ran’s within arm’s reach, you’re getting groped.

"You literally have a problem." You say one morning, brushing your teeth while Ran stands behind you, hands very much cupping your chest like it’s his personal stress relief.

"It’s not a problem." He squeezes gently, grinning at your reflection. "It’s a hobby."

"It’s sexual harassment."

"It’s my love language."

He has absolutely no chill about it in public, either.

You’ll be out with friends, sitting next to him, and his arm will casually slide around your shoulder, totally normal.

But then?

If no one’s looking, he will sneak a squeeze.

"Ran," you hiss, face heating. "We’re in public."

"And?" He gives a slow, deliberate squeeze. "No one’s looking."

"You’re a menace."

"You love it."

And well yeah, you kinda do.

At home though? He’s a hundred times worse.

You could be innocently lying on the couch, scrolling your phone, and Ran will walk by, backtrack, and just bury his face between your boobs like you’re his personal pillow.

"What the fuck?" You laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

"Needed a nap."

"On my tits?"

"Best pillows around."

Especially in bed, it’s a full-blown obsession.

Ran doesn’t care what position you start in, he always ends up there, mouth on your tits, hands grabbing and squeezing like they’re his favorite thing in the world (because they are).

"Fuck, baby…" he groans, tongue flicking over your nipple. "Could live right here."

"You already kind of do…" you pant, arching into his mouth.

"Lucky me."

You laugh (and moan) at the same time, fingers tangled in his hair, because there’s no stopping him once he gets started.

Even after sex, when you’re both spent and sweaty, he still can’t let go.

He’ll lie there, head resting between your breasts, hands cupping them like they’re his personal trophies.

"Can’t believe these are mine…" he mutters sleepily.

"Ran, go to sleep."

"Only if I can stay there."

You flick his forehead, but your heart’s full (he’ll end up falling asleep anyways).

Later that night, as you’re dozing off, Ran spooned up behind you, his hands, you guessed it, back on your tits.

"Ran."

"Hmm?"

"Are you gonna touch them for the rest of my life?"

"Absolutely."

You sigh (but smile). "Tragic."

"Nah." He kisses your shoulder, grinning against your skin. "Best love story ever."

(As a person who has the tits but not the ass, I was more inspired by this than for Rindou 😔 the sickness won’t get me guys dw)

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Lynn stares blankly at him again. Billy lets him, like, process that one, because Lynn’s still really new to thinking for himself and also, like, new to everything, and just pretends to be busy putting the salmon on the plates with the vegetables as carefully as possible. He gives Tawky’s plate a little extra salmon, like–ratio-wise, he means. Like he gives Tawky more salmon than vegetables, he means. Tigers don’t need that many vegetables, ratio-wise. His and Lynn’s plates he makes a little more, like–evensies? Like, closer to the same amount of everything, he means. 

It doesn’t actually matter that he eats a balanced diet when he’s Captain Marvel–like, obviously–and he can’t afford to worry about “balanced” usually anyway, but he needs to set a good example for Lynn and all, and Batman did give them all these groceries and all that money, so . . . 

It’s a little weird, Billy thinks, looking down at their plates for a moment. He hasn’t–just, he hasn’t had a “normal” dinner in a while. 

A family dinner, he means.

Well–yeah. Obviously. He didn’t have a family ‘til Lynn needed one. Tawky’s the best, but Tawky’s his best friend, not, like . . . 

It’s different. That’s all. 

So he hasn’t had a family dinner since–the last time he had a family dinner. 

That was weeks before his parents were even dead, he remembers absently. He doesn’t even remember what they ate or talked about or . . . 

Billy stops looking at the plates and looks back to Lynn instead. He thinks about how he could share his powers with him, if Lynn wanted him to. 

It’ll work with anyone in his family, is the thing. He can just–do it, with anyone who’s his family. 

He just . . . didn’t have anyone who was, before. 

They settle down for dinner in the living room with Tawky and don’t really talk much. Lynn doesn’t seem to want to, and if he’s not overwhelmed yet–which Billy seriously doubts, going by everything they did and everything he remembers from every new foster home he ever got dumped in–Billy doesn’t wanna push him into getting there. He turns the TV on just to make sure Lynn won’t feel pressured to say anything or like he’s expecting him to say anything or anything like that. 

He doesn’t really know what to put on because it’s not like he watches TV anymore, really–like, just sometimes in random situations or whatever, not regularly or anything–and he doesn’t actually know what teenagers watch or if Lynn would even like what other teenagers watch, much less anything he’d pick, and on top of that he isn’t sure how the streaming stuff works even though Batman left a list of passwords and stuff. Like, he’s never used any of them, he means, and he knows Tawky hasn’t either. 

Probably Lynn also hasn’t, considering, but since he was at Kid Flash’s for a couple days . . . 

“Do you know how, um, Netflix works?” Billy asks skeptically, looking from the remote to the icons on the TV. “Like did Kid Flash have it or anything? Um–or Hulu, maybe?” 

“. . . he had Crunchyroll,” Lynn says, and Billy wrinkles his nose in confusion. 

“What’s that one?” he asks. Lynn just shrugs. Billy figures if Kid Flash had it Robin might too, though, so chances of Batman putting it in are at least, like, okay? He scrolls down the really weird and ridiculous amount of icons on the TV and makes a face as he does–why doesn’t it just turn on? Like, it’s a smart TV, he guesses? Couldn’t Batman have just gotten a normal one? That would’ve been less expensive anyway, right? 

Maybe it was on sale or something, but Billy is starting to suspect that Batman does not worry enough about things being on sale, or couponing. Like, seriously suspect. 

Ugh. That makes him feel kind of nauseous, actually, so he’s maybe just gonna try and not think about it right now. 

A few scrolls down Billy finds an orange icon with a weird white symbol that looks like a crescent moon inside another crescent moon and says “crunchyroll” across the bottom–no capitalization, he guesses?–and clicks on it. Then he checks the password list, makes another face at the string of random numbers and letters and symbols Batman used for the password and promises himself he’s gonna change them all to stuff that won’t take ten minutes to type. 

And like, probably cancel most of these subscriptions, because this list of passwords is so long. Just so, so long. 

Jeeeeesus, so long. 

“Oh, it’s anime!” he realizes in surprise as the actual service comes up. Huh. 

. . . it is so much anime. 

Billy is maybe feeling kind of overwhelmed here, compared to channel-surfing or just popping in a DVD. His parents only really had Netflix and it’s been so long he doesn’t even really remember what kind of stuff was on it. Mostly they watched movies on it, but this looks mostly like TV shows? 

“. . . was there anything you guys watched that you liked?” he asks, frowning at all the categories. And they’re weird ones, too–like, super freakin’ weird. “Children Avoid Getting Murdered” doesn’t really seem like . . . like a genre, he thinks? Like not really? 

. . . well, maybe it kinda is. But also maybe that category’s not really very good escapism, given, like–everything about their lives and all. And Lynn just got almost-murdered for the first time, so yeah, that seems like maybe a bad idea. 

. . . . . . “The Original Light Novel’s Name Was Way Too Long So the English Title Had to Be Changed in Order to Somewhat Fit the Character Limit”?

Streaming is so much weirder than he remembered. 

“No,” Lynn says. 

“Did you like anything else on TV?” Billy tries, hoping Kid Flash put on something that wasn’t Crunchyroll at some point. There’s, like, a lot of Crunchyroll, though, so he’s not really all that optimistic about his chances there. 

“No Signal,” Lynn says. Billy . . . blinks.

[allywthsr]

24HRS WITH VOGUE | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and Y/N are doing a follow us around with vogue during the summer break, and show what their day looks like

wordcount: 5.8k words

pairing: landonorris x singer!femreader

warnings: allusion to smut, nothing graphic, rage at mario kart

notes: my favorite one I‘ve written so far!!! Please comment your thoughts!

When you opened the door after hearing a few knocks, you were faced with a big camera.

”Hello Vogue, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and this is my and Lando Norris‘ daily routine during the summer break. Welcome to our Monaco home.“

You smiled at the camera and led it to your bedroom, where a sleepy Lando was laying. After sitting on your side of the bed you began talking.

”This is where our mornings begin, obviously. We like to sleep in, depending on our plans for the day, and cuddle, check our phones, and talk nonsense for hours.“ ”Or do things we won’t name here“, Lando added, smirking while you turned around, shaking your head with a smile, where you were met with his beautiful face.

”Anyway, we start our mornings here, just chill and you know, enjoy the peace we have during the mornings.“

The cameraman pressed the recording button to stop the recording and said: ”Can we get a few beauty shots of you guys cuddling and just being on your phones? So we can add that over the talking?“

You guys both nodded and Lando opened his arms so you could lay down, closing them around you once you did. You settled on his chest, laying your head under his‘ and taking his scent in. Cuddling with Lando was the best thing ever, especially in the mornings after you’ve just woken up. You closed your eyes and the camera made a little beep sound, signaling you that it was recording again. For a few seconds, you both were quiet acting like you had just woken up and cuddled, it was kind of weird having you filmed while doing something that was intimate, but you and Lando recently got engaged and everyone wanted to have their piece of cake. You thought doing one big video would keep them fed, so you could enjoy the summer break. Now the cameramen spoke up: ”Can you change position maybe take your phones and just pretend to check it?“

So you took your phones and scrolled on them, pretending to see the newest gossip that happened over the night. When you saw a funny meme on your Instagram page pop up, you let out a laugh, showing Lando, who started to giggle in his high-pitched voice.

”Okay guys, I think I have it, let’s keep going with your routine.“

You got out of bed and walked to the blinds that were shut.

”The first thing I do is open the blinds, I just do it very dramatically, because they‘re floor to ceiling ones and I like to have my moment in the morning“, you let out a laugh, opening them.

”As you can see, I‘m still wearing my Pyjamas, well, a shorts and a T-shirt from Lando, so the first thing I do is change or pick out my clothes for the day if I need to shower, but I already did it yesterday. So I‘m gonna change and you’re gonna leave me alone for a minute“, you pointed at the camera smiling.

In reality, he didn’t leave the room, but you did. Changing in the ensuite bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. When you came back, dressed in your shorts and a crop top, you stood in the same spot where you had the last shot, beginning to talk.

”Alright, I‘m changed. Someone is not“, you took a glance in Lando’s direction, who was still on his phone.

”He always tells everyone he‘s an early bird but he hates getting up. So I drag him out of bed.“

You took his ankle and pulled on it, trying to pull him out of bed. All you could hear was an unsatisfied sound coming from Lando, you let out a chuckle.

”Come on baby, you need to go to your training session.“

”Nooo, safe me“, he dramatically fell out of bed laying on the floor pretending to sleep again.

”He‘s always dramatic, I‘m headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my skincare routine, he‘ll follow eventually.“

The next scene was in the bathroom with Lando standing next to you. He was shirtless and only in sweatpants, you almost started drooling over how good he looked, and he was yours, all yours. Thank god.

”Alright, we brush our teeth before we do anything else.“

Lando and you like to make fun of each other during mornings like this, pushing the other constantly or tickling on the hip. You squeezed the toothpaste on Lando’s and on your brush and put it in your mouth, brushing your teeth. The bathroom had his‘ and her‘s sink, yours being littered with products you claimed you needed every day. Lando always scoffed while trying to prevent an argument that water does the same as your products. Pulling out your phone, you took a picture of Lando and you and sent it to the family group chat, as you always do. Because you both moved out of your parent's home and even out of your home country, your parents called even more, missing you both. You promised them to send a message at least once a day, so you took a picture most mornings to send it their way. Saying good morning and asking how they were. Putting your phone next to your sink again.

You stood behind your sink and Lando on his‘, your elbow always touching his arm as you moved it a lot. ”Can you stop doing that? It’s annoying“, Lando told you regarding the touching, but you barely understood him with the foam that started to form in his mouth due to the brushing of his teeth. Wanting to annoy him extra, you pushed your arm fully against his and he landed on the wall with a stumble.

When he stood next to you again, he put his toothbrush under the water and before he rinsed his face, he pressed a kiss on your cheeks with his foamy mouth. You pulled a disgusted face and spit out the foam in the sink and washed your face.

”That’s where I am finished, I just need water and not all the products Y/N uses, my face is spotless without all of them. Follow me for more beauty recommendations or whatever they say.“ He went into the bedroom to change into his clothes for the day, consisting of a pair of shorts and a T-shirt he found in his closet.

”My skin needs all of these products because somehow men have better everything than women. Better skin, silkier hair, lashes that are perfect and whatnot. But yeah, that’s where we part ways, I continue with my skincare and Land-“ ”I mostly prepare breakfast for us, so follow me if you wanna see what that looks like.“

The cameramen set up a camera to record your routine while he followed Lando into the kitchen.

”So yeah, I begin with putting on this hairband“, you picked up your favorite hairband and put it around your head.

”I start with this cleanser“, you showed your favorite cleanser into the camera, ”I just wash my face with it, cleaning the dirt off my face that‘s on there after removing my makeup from yesterday and the dirt from the night“, you applied it with your hands and rubbed your face nicely to get everything off. Washing it off with lukewarm water, you took the next product.

”Then depending on what my skin needs, I have this pore minimizer that I love“, you took some on your fingers and gently massaged it on your T-zone, again washing it off afterward.

”Sometimes I get very dry skin like today, where I love to use a peeling. I love this one because it just does the job, isn’t super expensive, and smells like an Angel“, just as you wanted to show it to the lenses you heard Lando from the door.

”So it smells like you?“, you turned around looking at him.

”I love you“, you whispered to him.

”Lando sometimes likes to join me during this, he watches me a lot or even lets me apply some masks or whatever, but he would never admit it in front of the camera“, you laughed and touched his face with your hand, guided it to yours and pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

”I would never do this beauty thing, my skin is perfect without it.“ With a wink to the camera, he turned around again, probably going into the kitchen.

”Anyway, I love this peeling so much“, you applied it on your face and washed it off again after massaging it gently.

”Next I use a mask, I have a few that I love, but today I chose this one“, holding it to the camera, ”I apply it with this brush and then leave it on for about 15 minutes. I also have to say that I don’t do this every day, I only use the peeling and the mask once or twice a week so I don’t overdo my skincare. Too much can also be harmful. Let’s see what Lando is doing.“

//////////////////////meanwhile at Lando///////////////////////

”Yeah alright, welcome to our kitchen. My breakfast is mostly premade by my coach Jon, but sometimes, like during the summer break, I get to choose my own breakfast. Really exciting stuff. But because I‘m still a high-performance athlete, I need to watch out for my carbs and whatnot.

For me, it’s just a toasty with avocado and some chicken breast filet. And Y/N likes toasties as well with her favorite topping, but she also sometimes just eats a bowl of cereal depending on her mood. So I just place two toasties in the toaster“, he did like he said and pressed the button for it to start baking.

He cut up the avocado and took the chicken breast fillet out of its packaging while he waited for the toasty to finish. In between he made a trip to the en-suite bathroom, annoying you in the process.

After you came into the kitchen with your mask on your face it was time to eat. You all sat down on the table and chatted while eating, the camera was turned off and Lando had also prepared a breakfast for the cameraman.

When you finished eating it was time to record again, so he got up and pressed play.

”Breakfast was delicious and before you think that Lando can all of a sudden cook, it’s just an illusion. He puts the toasty on the toaster and I forbid him to press anything else on it except the toasting button because he‘d change the setting and would burn everything. I showed him hundreds of times how to cut an Avocado, literally hundreds, I even recorded a video once when I was away and he called me because he didn’t know how to. And everyone can take a piece of chicken breast fillet out of the package, so he ain’t no chef guys“, you cheekily smiled at him while he mumbled a: ”Can you stop exposing me please?“

You pressed a kiss on his cheek and got up, speaking to the camera: ”Anyway, next we clean up, unload, and load the dishwasher. I like to do that right after so it’s not standing around on the table all day. Lando also helps with that, before anyone comes at him in the comments now. He helps quite a lot in the household, takes the trash out because I find it disgusting, helps with unloading the dishwasher, and even the small things like cleaning our mirror in the bathroom every now and then. He works very hard every day so he doesn’t have to do all the work.“

While you opened the dishwasher to load all of the dishes, Lando passed you the plates, the silverware, and the mugs you used for breakfast.

”I‘ll just go wash this mask off and apply some moisturizer and then I am done with my skincare routine.“

”Alright now I have my daily workout session with my trainer Jon, luckily we have an apartment gym in our building complex so we don’t have to travel far, only down to the basement. Y/N likes to join when she has time and motivation.“

So you three went down the stairs to the basement where you walked through the door to find a rather small gym, but it had all the needed equipment for a session that Lando needed to do.

You walked through the door and were welcomed by Jon who did his warm-up.

”This is my trainer, Jon, he tortures me every day. He is the evil guy who forbids me from eating Kinder chocolate. It’s my favorite and it hurts me every day. Anyway, we‘ll do a quick workout, today is more or less a rest day, but because I need to be in the best shape possible I train every day, just some light training today, we will start with the warm-up.“

With that Jon, Lando and you started to stretch and warm your muscles slowly, while Lando did his thing, you went onto the treadmill to get slowly to it. You weren’t a professional athlete but you were glad that you had Jon by your side as well, helping whenever you needed it. He wasn’t your trainer but always kept an eye on you to teach you when you did something wrong.

So the cameraman filmed beauty shots of you both training, doing lunges, squatting, and some light cardio. He also filmed little shots of Jon, Lando and you laughing because Lando said something funny about his training again. Whenever he had to do his neck training you couldn’t do anything else than laugh. The way his lip twitches got you crackling every time, you didn’t want to imagine how you would look like if you had to do this exercise.

You both finished this session with a plank hold, where Lando definitely won, but you liked to challenge each other.

Going back to your flat you went into the bathroom, doing a light Make-up for the day.

”I have nothing big planned today, but I still like to look a little fresh, so I’m just gonna apply some concealer, powder, contouring, blush, eyeliner, and mascara. I don’t need much time for it, it’s a routine by now.“

You put all the products on and went into the living room and sat around the dining table behind your MacBooks.

”You look absolutely beautiful, angel.“

Your heart melted and you blushed a little as always when Lando complimented you.

”We mostly take the time after a workout to check our emails, messages, and whatnot. Lando likes to go through some data while I go through new music with my producer. But, if you follow us on social media, you‘ll know that we‘re currently building a house in the UK. Since we live in Monaco, we can’t be there every day. So we FaceTime a lot with the company that builds it. We have a meeting scheduled with them in six minutes actually, where we just see the house and talk about the progress and the next steps. The shell is almost done and they can finally start building the inside. I‘m really excited, you have no idea.“

You opened your laptop and waited for the call to come. Lando got you both something to drink, him a smoothie that Jon gave him and you got your favorite drink, you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek.

”Before people say, look at them they‘re so boujee, building a house and all that. We got a piece of land from my parents as a gift. Yeah okay, that is boujee“, Lando started laughing in his high-pitched voice and then continued: ”But just don’t be a hater, we never wanted to stay in Monaco forever and so we thought that now is the perfect timing to build a house, especially with the engagement and all that. We’ve always dreamed about building our own home, how we imagine it to look like and we’re internally grateful that we can afford it. It takes some time before our dream home is built, so we have to be patient.“

When he mentioned the engagement, a big smile erupted on both of your faces. Just a month ago he went down on one knee and popped the question, you didn’t even have to think about what you would answer. Shouting out the yes after a second of processing what was happening.

The cameraman looked up, ” Tell us more of the engagement. You‘ve been together for what?“

”He‘s been nagging my ass for five years now“, you looked at Lando with a smile.

”Yeah and she‘s singing my ear off for five years, I don’t know what’s worse“, with a serious look he turned his head to the camera before a smile came across his lips.

”No but it was romantic, at least for us. We‘re both not really romantic people, we both need our separate spaces from time to time, we also don’t light a candle just because we eat dinner or something if you get what I mean.“

”Yeah and we have a spot in Monaco where we like to go when we need to relax, it’s up in the hills where you can see the whole city, I found it when I was on a morning run“, with that Lando put his hand on your thigh and slowly caressed it.

”So we went there in evening, it was beautiful weather, and we just settled on a blanket like we always do. Enjoy the peace and all that. I just wanted to relax a bit and he suddenly started to talk about how much he loves me and how happy he is that we found each other, and I just was like ’ Please stop, I want to hear the birds chirping to relax‘ but he continued and I started joking on ’how much of a simp he is telling me that’ he did ask me to ’shut up‘ at one point. So when he told me to get up, I was not having it. I just settled on the ground, and then I had to get up again, the audacity of this men guys. But no I’m kidding, when I got up he went down on one knee and boom“, after the boom you showed your hand with the ring to the camera.

”It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Exactly how I imagined it to be. But before anyone comments stuff like ’ How did you not get it when he started his speech‘, I had a suspicion but I didn’t think it would happen that day. And he tells me often how he feels about me and us, call him Simp but it’s really cute. So it was nothing new, him talking about it.“

”So when’s the wedding?“, the cameraman asked.

”We haven’t planned anything yet. With Lando’s busy schedule, it’s hard to plan a date when everyone is free. But we take our time with this, we don’t have to get married tomorrow.“

Just after you ended your sentence, your laptop started ringing, indicating that a FaceTime call was coming. You accepted it and you both were met with your architect.

”Alright“, Lando clapped his hands, ”we finished our call and normally we like to go on a walk or something like that during the afternoon. Let’s go then.“

Lando and you walked hand in hand through the streets of Monaco, being stopped by fans every few meters, but that’s the price you pay. The cameraman filmed a lot of beauty shots of Lando and you, you were super excited for when you would see the whole video.

After a walk through beautiful Monaco, you settled in a restaurant.

”Sometimes we are too lazy to cook anything and we go out to eat. This is our favorite restaurant. I try to choose something healthy from the menu, but it’s the summer break, so I get to treat myself a little. I‘m gonna go for some chicken with fries and a salad, so I can send Jon a picture of how healthy I eat.“

”And I‘m going to take number thirty nine, it’s my favorite. I always get it.“

After lunch was served, and you guys ate it was late in the afternoon.

”It’s almost 6:00 pm now and we have almost nothing left in our fridge, so we have to go food shopping.“

You guys went into the store and Lando pushed the cart, often enough putting all his weight on it and sliding through the aisles.

”We‘re going on our holiday trip in like four days, so we don’t need as much as we usually do.“

Putting in the cart normal things like fruits and vegetables, some bread, things to put on top of the bread, and some drinks.

Lando sneaked a kinder chocolate bar into the cart, looking guilty at the camera while whispering to the microphone: ”If your Jon, I‘m sorry.“

You picked a yogurt for yourself and one for Lando to enjoy during the evening. As well as some toilet paper, some kitchen rolls, and choosing a new surface cleaner.

You went to the cashier and put everything into a shopping bag you always carried around in your purse, as Lando paid with your shared card.

Walking back home, Lando carried the bag in his left hand while holding your hand with his right. Talking with you about the most random things. The walk wasn’t long, just fifteen minutes so you enjoyed the view, walking through the old streets of Monaco was one of your favorite things to do here, just looking at the architecture was beautiful. It also amazed you every time how luxurious this city is, so many luxury stores were next to each other, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, you could go on and on.

When you arrived home, you put all of your groceries away, while Lando started to unload the dishwasher you loaded this morning. Putting the plates in their place in the cupboard as well as the glasses and sorting the cutlery in the drawer.

Afterward, Lando went streaming. The camera follows your every step.

”Lando is now streaming and I like to make him a snack that he can eat while gaming. We bought some fresh fruit earlier, as you saw, and I’m just gonna cut him an apple and some watermelon. He‘s like a little kid, I swear.“

After doing so, you went to his gaming room, knocking on the door so he would hear you through his headphones. You heard a loud: ”Chat wait, Y/N knocked on the door.“

He opened it and you were met with your gorgeous boyfriend, wearing his big headphones and looking cuddly as ever.

”I cut you some fruit up.“

”You’re the best girlfriend ever“, you laughed at the statement.

You both went to his PC and he sat down with you on his lap. He took the fruit plate and showed it to the camera that was attached to his desktop.

”Look chat, Y/N made me some fruit. She gets the girlfriend of the month award!“

Looking at the chat, he realized his mistake.

”I mean fiancé, not girlfriend, you’re right chat. She’s not my girlfriend anymore.“

He smiled up at you while you turned your head around to see him, pressing a kiss on his lips.

You turned around again and read the chat.

”That’s Vogue behind us, Chat. They‘re following us throughout the day. Stay tuned it’s coming up next week. No, we‘re not filming porn, what the fuck? You‘re Chat is weird Lan.“

”I know, I know.“

”Anyway, Imma get going, I have a meeting about my tour now.“

You stood up, but not before you waved at the camera and said your goodbyes. Ruffling through his curls and pressed a kiss on top of his head, while he slapped you on your right ass cheek for everyone to see. You gasped and let out a loud: ”Lando!“, before leaving the room and closing the door again.

”Alright I just have to put our laundry in our washing machine so it can wash it. It should be ready before we go to bed, so I can put it in our dryer.“

Collecting the laundry and the dirty towels, you went into the utility room. Putting everything into the washing machine, you started the fast program and left to go into the kitchen again.

”I have a quick meeting about my tour now. I‘m going on tour in three months and it’s more planning than some would think. Right now we‘re discussing about the final visuals I want to have behind me while performing. But I‘m not showing you anything from it, it’s going to be a surprise and you should see it for the first time when you come to see me“, you winked at the camera. ”I‘ll see y‘all later!“

Finishing your meeting after an hour, you went into Lando‘s streaming room again, sitting on his lap.

”Alright Chat, this is it for today, we‘ll go and enjoy the rest of our evening and so should you.“

You both waved to the camera and you saw the goodbyes rolling in, Lando ended the stream and you went into the kitchen to prepare some dinner.

”When we already ate some actual food, we‘ll just eat some bread or bread rolls or whatever. We bought some fresh ones today while shopping, so we‘re eating that tonight. I‘m going to cut some cucumber and healthy stuff to eat with it“, you said and prepared the dinner table. Putting out the cucumber, peppers, and cherry tomatoes as well as the bread rolls and toppings for them. The cameraman shot some beauty shots of the table and then you sat around it and ate your dinner.

When you finished eating, Lando passed you the dirty dishes while you loaded them into the dishwasher, you always did this, he passed you the dishes and you loaded the washer. It became your routine and you loved how you had your routines, it was like a married couple. It showed that you worked together and how you helped the other, whatever you did.

Five years was a long time, you basically became an adult together, and you grew into the person you now are, and only because you had the other one to help.

Sitting down on your couch, you sat closely next to each other, Lando putting his hand on your thigh.

”After dinner, we just like to watch movies, watch our series, play video games, play board games whatever. Every night is different. I don’t know what we‘ll do today. Lan, what do you think?“

”Uhm, I kind of want to play Mario Kart. Are you okay with that?“

”I would love that actually.“

One of the things that Lando and you also had in common, was the love for Mario Kart. I mean everyone loved it, but Lando and you had an unhealthy obsession with it. At least that is what your friends say. You could play the game for hours, only stopping when one of the others got too aggressive. Lando had smashed multiple controllers because of it. You yelled at him for throwing blue shells or sending red shells your way whenever you were first. You hit him multiple times on wherever you could reach when he played unfair.

”But only if you play fair“, you told him. He sat up straight and looked at you with an unamused look.

”Me playing fair? What’s with you? You always distract me with ways I can’t name here, who plays unfair now?“

That was true. When things went bad you only had one strategy and it was: Distracting.

You kissed his neck, you loved his neck and so you left little kisses on them, biting playfully into it, knowing that that was one of Lando’s weaknesses. Tracing your tongue from his ear to his T-shirt collar, and then blowing air on it. Leaving him shivering with the sensation. And if that didn’t make him distracted and driving into a wall, you would do things he could never say no to.

Touching his bulge, and staring at his face. And if he was that into the game, not acting up on your touching, ignoring you to get the win, there was only one last solution.

Getting. On. Your. Knees.

You would throw away your controller and sink in front of the sofa and tug on his pants until his member was freed. Then doing unholy things to him that would definitely make him forget about the game. Mostly he would return the favor, the game long forgotten, and spending what felt like hours on making the other feel better. Sometimes he would groan and blame you afterwards, that he lost but when you reminded him what happened minutes earlier he would grin and then make some cocky remark.

But that wouldn’t happen today. Not when the camera or another human was in the room.

So you just scoffed at the camera and rolled your eyes.

He chose Koopa Troopa, his favorite, and you chose your favorite character, selecting a kart, that would make you the fastest.

”One hundred ccm? Or one hundred and fifty?“

”Let’s do one hundred and fifty, I‘m up for a challenge.“

”Uhhhhh baby, you have no idea what’s coming“, Lando yelled.

So you started with the Mario Circuit, Lando won, but only because he threw a red shell your way in the last corner, getting you right before the finish line, which he crossed with a loud giggle and pushed your shoulder to mock you.

Next up was Toad Harbour, Lando‘s favorite track, he knew it like the back of his hand and aced it, of course. You tried to sabotage him by tickling his sides but that didn’t work.

The third was Sunshine Airport, you won. Flying through the corners like a bird, drifting your way around the track.

The last one was Rainbow Road. You both groaned when the random setting chose this track.

”Whoever wins, is the winner. Rainbow Road is only a track for professionals“, Lando suggested.

You nodded and prepared yourself for the screaming that was about to happen.

Looking at the cameraman, hoping he wasn’t too disturbed by you and Lando competing in the game, knowing how competitive you both could get.

The race started and you fell down in the first corner, being pushed off by some character, you yelled at the screen. Otherwise, you made it through the first two rounds safely. On the third lap, you were in second, and Lando in first, you drove through a question block and you got a red shell. Sending it his way he screamed at you.

”Stop with this bullshit Y/N.“

You giggled and he did a backflip on the track after it hit him. Now you being in first place your heart started beating faster, now or never. You already saw the finish line but then suddenly a bomb appeared in front of you, fully driving into it. You just heard a scream from Lando, you looked at his screen and you saw that he also drove into it. And before you knew it Baby Rosalina won the game.

”NO THIS CAN NOT BE IT, FUCKING BABY ROSALINA WON THE GAME NO!“

Lando going into full rage mode and screaming at the TV while throwing the Controller next to him and crossing his arms before his chest.

”I have enough of this stupid game, I wanna watch something on Netflix.“

You looked at the camera. ”That is something that happens whenever he loses. I‘m not that much better, to be honest.“

With that, you opened Netflix and you cuddled up to him, choosing the series you started two days ago.

The cameraman filmed some beauty shots of you cuddling and then went around the flat filming beauty shots of the apartment, you were curious on how the video would turn out.

Suddenly you sat up and Lando looked at you with a big question mark on his face.

”What happened?“

”Our laundry!“

”I thought something happened, god damn Y/N.“

The camera followed you to the utility room, filming you taking out the laundry, putting it into the dryer, and starting the dryer.

”It’s late and I need to do my nightly skincare routine, it’s not as big as the morning routine but I do some things to get ready for bed.“

You went into the bathroom and explained your next steps.

”First I start with removing my makeup. I remove it with this“, you showed your favorite product into the camera, ”I just love it. I apply it and it practically melts my makeup off. Next, I use this cleanser to make sure I am fully clean in the face and then I just use a night cream or an oil to give my skin the moisture it needs. And now is when Lando normally joins me for brushing our tee-.“

And before you could end the sentence, Lando walked into the bathroom settling behind his sink just like this morning. He took his toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste on it while repeating the same on your toothbrush. Putting it in your mouth, you both started to brush your teeth. Instead of pushing the other, you leaned your head against his arm, slowly feeling the tiredness overtaking your body, sometimes doing nothing all day can be more tiring than having a big schedule. So you spit out the foam, rinsed your mouth and Lando did the same, washing his face after. You both went into the bedroom and put your Pyjamas on for the night, well, you again put on some random shorts and a T-shirt from Lando and he put on shorts as well.

Settling in bed, Lando turned on the TV.

”We normally just watch some YouTube videos until we almost fall asleep, we‘ll watch whatever pops up, mostly some sidemen videos. But now is the time where you’re gonna leave us, thank you so much Vogue for following us throughout the day and I hope you all enjoyed the video.“

You started waving toward the camera and Lando screamed out a: ”Peace!“

The cameraman ended the recording and you got out of bed. Thanking him for following you both through this day and accompanying him to the door, saying your final goodbyes, and wishing him a good night.

When you returned, Lando sat on your bed with his arms wide open, ready for a cuddle. So you took the spot and looked at the new MoreSidemen video that just came out, ending the night with the love of your life.

[moonknixght]

Fooling Steven Grant HCs [afab reader]

CRAZY CONCEPT but just hear me out wc: 760

⋆ The whole thing started the night Steven came over after an extra shift-- to see you peeling off a transparent mask that stuck to your skin. Naturally, It didn't look like a face mask, but instead more like an actual layer of skin.

⋆ Obviously Steven isn't dumb enough to think that it's actually your skin…

"Does this brand of mask hurt when you're removing it?"

Unless….

⋆ ..Unless you've seen countless trends of people playfully gaslighting their boyfriends about 'shedding' after periods. And obviously, this was too good of an opportunity to give up.

⋆ "What mask?"

"Th-? The one you're taking off right now, love."

"Steven… that's not a mask.."

"Wh-"

"It's skin! I'm doing my monthly shedding."

⋆ Oh the confusion in his face was palpable. At first it was like, 'You're joking, right?' kind of bewilderment, denoted by the dopey smile on his face while his brows knitted in confusion.

⋆ but that declined into actual confusion and surprise when he noticed your expressions didn't have any sign of goofing off. Only you were aware of the struggle of holding it together.

⋆ "Girls don't.. shed.. do they?"

"They do, Steven."

⋆ You could almost feel bad for him. But your reassurance kinda made him back off for a bit and retreat back into the bedroom. You were disappointed that he didn't have a crazy reaction.

⋆ But boy were you in for a treat when you came back to the bedroom. Of course, Steven, was obsessively scrolling through his phone, eyes concentrated on the headlines but as soon as he noticed you step in..

⋆ "Doesn't say anythin’ about shedding, does it? No."

He sooo proudly showed off the phone screen to you, but you already saw this coming. You knew Steven like the back of your hand, of course he was going to try sass you.

⋆ "Yeah.. that's because it's a secret. We don't really say it to all men. Because of like.. the salem witch trials. Imagine if everyone found out that women can shed skin like a snake."

⋆ He was going to call it ridiculous, but you somehow made sense, in a very, very odd way. But That didn't mean he was completely going to trust you on this yet, even if he loved you to the end of the world.

⋆ "But what about the men that know? Like.. me."

⋆ "Think about it Steven, I wouldn't be making this so obvious if I didn't trust you enough to hold this huge secret." (that was the first truth in a bed of lies, you did trust Steven with alot of things)

⋆ The best part was that you can see his brain short-circuiting. Steven is one of the most smartest people you know, so seeing such moments is very very special

⋆ Now the thing is, practically, he has small social circle, Which means the people he can ask this to is also minute. Obviously he cant ask this to Donna!

⋆ He's tried Marc but Marc is kinda gullible, the moment he broke this to him, Marc believed it because it wouldn't make sense why you'd lie?

⋆ Surely Jake can help! He's been involved with many women before, right? That's what he claimed. Anyways, Jake admits that it's true. Because god forbid Jake loses a chance to fuck with Steven

⋆ Layla came around the other day, and his mistake was asking her right infront of you. All you had to do was to show Layla the 'look' behind Steven's back, and she caught on easily

⋆ "You told him?" Layla said, just as Steven noticed that she was looking at you

⋆ but that was the nail in the coffin; Steven actually believed that women shed their skin

⋆ It was a quiet month after that incident, that even you forgot about it; until you got your period again and by the end of the week, he actually showed up with moisturizers and sweets because "It looked like it hurt to peel a layer of yourself off" :(

⋆ Steven, your sweet summer child, had bought you care products because he actually believed what you said

⋆ Obviously after that, you let him in on the actual secret that it was just a transparent mask sheet and his immediate reaction was rejoicing that he was right

"I wasn't going crazy then!! Women don't shed!!"

⋆ The absurdity of that sentence was just amazing, that you couldn't help but laugh and subsequently, it makes him laugh too

⋆ Ending the night (and this horrendous lie) by sharing the chocolate Steven bought and talking about it together is most definitely a welcome conclusion <33

[chenlezip]

.⊹˖ᯓ★. ݁₊ love at first like | a mark lee smau

004: the soft launch.

꒰ annas note: ꒱ i know this took forever for me to get out but i truly hope you guys enjoy the chapter :( i kept having to rewrite so much of it because I DONT LIKE THE WAY IVE WROTE THIS but it will have to do (i hate disappointing because everyone was super excited and i don’t want to let you guys down T_T).

it was finally (dreadfully) the next day and you almost forgot that you and mark had to go on a fake date until you awoke to your phone buzzing. wondering who it was bothering you, you turn to your side and grab your phone, mark showing up on the screen.

[9:00AM] mark nct: dude are you awake? 🤔

[9:05AM] mark nct: its our fake date today, come on

[9:30AM] mark nct: i'm waiting outside ur dorm, take ur time to get dressed and things. i have something believable planned if ur comfortable? hopefully? just hurry.. please..

you get up out of your comfy bed, ripping the duvet from around your waist with a heavy sigh. "why today?" you groan to yourself as you quickly get dressed into something nice. as soon as you leave your dorm, you see mark dressed in a red jumper, some beige pants and docs.

“you look smart for our ‘date’, don’t you?” you ask with a small laugh as he looked up, his throat drying a little at what you were clad in. wow. you looked great. obviously, he didn’t want to say that out loud so with a small fake cough and an arm moving to his nape, he asked if you were ready to go and you said yes.

as you both start walking, mark seems.. oddly very quiet so you decide to speak up, startling him in the process. “you’re quiet, what’s on your mind?” “huh? oh, just- i don’t know.. i want this to be realistic, you know?” you chuckle and shake your head at his words. why was he panicking trying to make it realistic?

“whatever you’ve picked out, i’m sure it will be good, well i hope anyway because we need to pull it off..”

and.. when you arrive at the destination, you suppose he did a pretty damn good job at it. a beautiful fountain nearby with grass surrounding it. a pink plaid blanket on the grass, wine bottle and two glasses in a picnic basket, delicious snacks placed onto it too. “wow..” you mumble softly as you take in the sight, it was scenic.

you both sat together, getting to know one another more, soft laughs shared between and small whispers as you tried to perfect the photos you were taking of the area and one another.

“ah, can i post this one?” mark asked you and you look up to see a photo of the scenery, your arm just in the corner with your hair, making it definitely look like a soft launch. you smile and nod, “sure. it looks good, you’re good at taking photos. who taught you? i know you learnt from someone.” you joke and he chuckled, shaking his head, “definitely wasn’t the best before but jaemin, i don’t know if you know him, but he’s the best photographer i know and i got some tips from him just for this..”

he got tips from his friend (and fellow member) just to get some photos of you for a fake date? damn, he’s committed alright.

by the end of the day, mark drops you off back at your dorm and blurted out, “for a fake date, that was pretty real, wasn’t it? i hope you enjoyed it.. i- uh, tried my best to make sure you did and that you were comfortable throughout the whole thing.”

“i did mark, and don’t worry. i was comfortable.. hey, let’s try something a little more open next time. if you’re up for it?” you ask and his eyes lit up, “yo, for real? i’ll figure something out and i’ll be in touch. anyway though, i best get going, goodnight yn. be safe.” and that was it, bidding goodbye and then you got comfortable for bed after doing your nightly routine.

you lay under the covers, sighing softly as you scroll through socials, seeing all the talk about you and marks stories today. you let out a soft giggle at some reactions, were people always this dramatic about their favourite idols? you suppose you understood it, you felt that way about your celebrity crush.

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tags: @polarisjisung @luvmrk @finewinesixtynine @bbyjjunie @multifandomania @jenocity23 @iluv7tn @sungbites @haluenx @222brainrot @iluvkyo @ayukas @mmjhh1998 @skibidihan @f6llsun @florihaei @kiszjuli @cloudmrk @cigsaftersuh @i06hae @neozon3nha @urlocalbeaner5 @sunghoonsgfreal @nasasungs @mbella607 @desssss-0 @prettymoles @haechsworld @mejaemin @yizhrt @fullmoon0606 @n0hyuck @dilflover44 @nctdreamchaser @stuckonmark @bananinhazz @luvs4haechan @tynlvr @remgeolli @jae-n0 @blondemrk @lukeys-giggle @mimi894 @haechyuckan @jakiki94 @sacdepixie @bluedbliss @yoyomul @nctrawberries @hoeingthefuckup @joneborder (if i forget to tag anyone plspls let me know!!)

[fishhateme]

so... Linkedin influencer au, anyone?

LinkedIn Influencer danny in the midst of the redbull breakdown™ made me think of like this random ass au

BEAR WITH ME

(i made a pt 2!)

Imagine Max being an up and coming engineer or something along those lines, and he's a genius in his field but he's antisocial as fuck (if you'd ask him he'd just say he's intolerant to other people's bullshit)

ANYWAYS he sort of *has* to network because of the horrors of the capitalist world and as he's scrolling through LinkedIn he comes across this... dork? He isn't exactly cringe, not like this other engineer (ahem ahem aerodynamic engineer!lewis) who posts photos of his bulldog going to the office -which is supposed to be inspirational?? Somehow??- or quotes about being a unicorn

(i realize I'm getting sidetracked about how funny lewis would be on LinkedIn so I'll get back on track)

Unlike engineer!lewis, this other guy on LinkedIn isn't necessarily cringe - he's obviously a bit older than max judging by his very proper punctuation (although it is... yknow... linkedin) and his weird hyper fixation with cowboy emojis anytime he gets a promotion or anything like that, but he sort of makes max do that thing where you exhale out of your nose instead of chuckling, and since that's the first semi enjoyable thing max has ever experienced whilst on the hellhole that is linkedin, he decides to follow him

He's forgotten about it at first, but then he sort of start refreshing his feed to check if the guy has posted anything, and then he's commenting on one of his posts about hiding honey badger stickers around his physics faculty office (apparently he works in a university or something, not that max reread his career trajectory ten times or anything) with laughing emojis (who comments on LinkedIn posts? Who is he, his father?) and they get into this weird sort of always-interacting-with-each-other-but-also-y'know-it's-linkedin-not-tinder sorta vibe

The point is that his coworker/reluctant friend lando drags him to this stupid engineering event that's supposed to be perfect for networking.

Max will never admit it, but he agreed to go not only to get away from his horrible boss, because Marko creeped him the fuck out and would criticize his work even if he reinvented Einstein's theory of relativity, but also because the funny linkedin guy posted he'd be there

Except max wonders around and around the stupid aerodynamics convention and, while he runs into that fucking guy with the decked out bulldog more times than he could count, he doesn't think he sees daniel?

He's not about to humiliate himself and ask someone, though. That would be desperate, even if this daniel -danyul- is sort of well known in these circles because his LinkedIn posts are semi well known (max chuckles at the thought of falling for an influencer, but not an Instagram model, instead a LinkedIn physics micro influencer)

After a few hours he gives up, deciding the best course of action is getting shitfaced and therefore successfully forcing Lando to drive back home through the inevitable traffic the convention would bring to town

He goes to the bar and orders a gin and tonic, then another, then a third (he really shouldn't have gotten a third, he was supposed to be looking for another job in the first place and that toto guy from the germany factories seemed interested in his resume, this was a bad idea)

Flushed, frustrated and pleasantly buzzed, he rested his forehead against the coolness of the bar, closing his eyes when he heard someone sit on a stool, an amused Aussie accent right next to him

"What's got you down in the dumps, mate? An equation broke your heart? A lever system rejected your advances?"

Max closed his eyes and barely even chuckled out of courtesy for the stranger. Dork, a distant part of his brain supplied, and although he'd used that same word for someone else his buzzed brain didn't connect the dots

"I was looking for a guy I know from LinkedIn but I think he didn't show up" he admitted, surprising himself with his sudden burst of honesty. Maybe he shouldn't have drank so fast?

The guy next to him cackled, and Max didn't lift his head because the lights were too bright and they'd hurt him, but he was pretty sure he heard the scraping of the stool legs against the floor signaling this random Aussie guy almost ate shit laughing at the patheticness of his situation

Great

"Screw him!" He said, way too cheerfully for Max's taste, and ordered himself a rose

Max lifted his head at that, if only to say how idiotic it was to order a rose instead of a real drink, and he almost gasped when he was met with dark curls and a dangerously toothy grin he'd seen before, on his LinkedIn home screen, on a tiny icon but definitely there

But before he could have time to react, Daniel was clinking his glass of rose against Max's half finished g&t, smiling mirthfully

"Don't worry, mate. People on LinkedIn are a bunch of cunts, anyway"

[caitlinclarkluver22]

~ Please Please Please ~ P.B a fanfic ( sfw)

inspired by the song by sabrina carpenter

pov: smart!fem! reader x player! paige bueckers

an: so this is my first paige bueckers fanfic, the intros kinda long, but i think it came out pretty good, but there is gonna multiple parts to this, so just let me know if you’d like another one.

remember blue is flashback and purple is lyrics!!

warnings: mention of alcohol, cheating, lying, and mention of sex

“ i know i have good judgment, i know i have good taste. it’s funny and it’s ironic that only i feel that way.”

you’re a senior in college at uconn, your mostly known for being the smartest person in your classes, never failing one grade, getting higher than a 90 at all times, 85 on your bad days.

you were in calculus, to you it was light work. you didn’t really need to study often, having amazing memory and overall good attention span in class.

since you already completed 2 years of college in highschool, having your associates degree, you were already looking forward to getting your bachelor’s degree this year.

————————————————————————

you were collecting your stuff of the desk, putting it in you book bag, ready to go take a break from the series of classes you had just taken.

as you were walking out of the room, you heard someone call your name.

it was your teacher, professor zamora.

“ hey, your the one with all the good test scores right?” , he asked knowing but just wanted to make sure, to ask for a favor.

“ yes…. i am”, you shyly responded, a little nervous at the sudden attention.

“ okay good, so since you have the best grades in the class right now, i was wondering if you were free for another class period.”

free? another class period? what is he trying to imply? i know i might look naive and small, but I’m not stupid to know what men want. i am lesbian after all. although i had my suspicions, i trusted my professor.

“ yes i actually am. why professor?”

“ great! i was just wondering because my next class period is algebra, and….lets just say ive had them for a few years now…anyways, they need help. just pick the one you want and you can tutor them.” , he said praying that she would agree.

although she did have a break for the next two hours, she could spend one of them helping someone, it’s the right thing to do.

“ yes of course! i’m willing to tutor anyone that needs my help.”, you say enthusiastically, ready to help people be the best they could be.

“ great! just come back in around 30 minutes, and by then they should be here.”, your professor said, thankful for your help.

“ okay i got you.” , you said walking out of class, going to grab a bite to eat.

————————————————————————

after the short thirty minutes pass by, you start walking back to the class, praying that this goes well.

as you make your entrance through the door, you see a familiar face.

shes a blonde, tall, blue eyed girl walking to her desk, a purple nike elite backpack on her back (that looks fairly empty ), and a slow sluggish walk .

you could tell who it was from a mile away, it was paige bueckers.

THE paige bueckers.

you noticed her since in your free time u went to go watch the basketball games, cheering for your favorite player on the team, paige obviously. although you went to almost every game, you went unnoticed by her, standing in the back of the crowd just admiring how she played.

you weren’t a mega fan.

you totally didn’t scroll on tiktok, looking and saving the edits you’d find. damn she’s so attractive…

‘ah ah ah, no liking her. she’s in algebra. she’s obviously not smart, not to be mean of course. just observing.’ , you think to yourself as you look around the room, waiting for everyone to take their seats.

it wasn’t only about academics. paige was also known for hopping around from girl to girl, you know this since a couple of your friends had their fair share of dating her.

you were awoken late at night by a loud knock at your door. who could be awake this late?

as you opened the door, you came to a sad sight.

there your friend, lilly, was crying at your doorstep.

she was sobbing, her eyes swollen , puffy, and red due to the amount of uncontrollable tears.

you knew what…or should i say who this was about.

over the course of 2 months, your friend was on and off with her situationship, paige. lilly didnt know wether her and paige were a thing or not, she never knew what paige’s next move would be, little did she know that her next move would be completely ghosting her and pretending like she didn’t exist.

“ i just- i just don’t know what i did wrong. i mean i bought her things, i spent time with her, i supported her at all her games. every single one. how could i be so stupid? i’m literally one of the smartest people in this whole college and im not smart enough to realize that a girl is totally playing me.” , she sobbed grasping onto you like her life depended on it.

“ it’s okay lilly it’s okay, you deserve better.”

although lilly was your friend, karmas a bitch, she should’ve known better, if she had a wish, she would’ve never fucked around with paige ( LMAOOO ).

lilly, yes got hurt, but she was a bad person. in her past she was known for cheating, lying, and stealing. well stealing other people’s hearts of course. she would talk to them, make them fall in love, then drop them after they bought her a gift of some sort.

another one of your well known friends, keisha, always hooked up with paige. whenever paige was bored, she’d text keisha a good “ u up?” late night text , and keisha would be at her dorm room in no time, ready to have good sex.

of course, they weren’t your friends anymore, you realized soon after that lilly was a bad influence since she lied and cheated, while keisha was just to influenced in alcohol and hook up culture.

in essence, this girl was bad news, and she only liked the bad girls, so you’d obviously have to stay far far away from her….

————————————————————————

“ so how do you find x if you don’t have y?”

fuck my life.

“ paige, it’s not that hard. really. i learned this shit in seventh fucking grade, and you can’t get it. look let me show you….again.”, you said irritably, getting impatient by the second. you felt like you’ve taught her over a thousand times.

you guys were in her dorm, on her purple comforter, you were trying to teach her the literal easiest shit ever, and she couldn’t comprehend it. ugh she’s like a toddler.

“ so to find out x i have to add y and…what again?”

kms.

“ UGHHH paigeeeee”, you said, hands in your hair , frustrated with the stupidity this girl had. how could she be so smart on the court, yet so dumb when it came to math?

“ please, i need help, if i don’t pass this then i can’t play basketball. and we both really know how much i love basketball. it’s my everything. please?”, she said, her player facade fading away, showing her true and vulnerable self.

ugh those eyes….

“ …one more time paige. just try your best to get it. concentrate.”

paige nodded and smiled at her, looking down at the paper to attempt to grasp the information that she had trouble with.

————————————————————————

“ I ACED IT”, paige screamed, jumping up and down.

“ REALLY?”, you said eyes wide.

“ YES YES YES, omg i’m so happy right now!”, paige said , her eyes showing the pure raw excitement paige had.

paige then unexpectedly embraced you in a hug, it catching you off guard, but nonetheless, you hugged back.

if you knew the hug was wrong…..why did it feel so right?

you guys stood there for a solid minute, embracing eachother. you inhaled, smelling the sweet scent she radiated.

“ okay well i gotta go”, you said, sad knowing that this would be the last time that u had an excuse to spend time with her.

“ yea- um same.”, she said, giving u a slightly forced smile.

as you were walking away , sadness filling ur heart, u heard someone shout your name.

it was paige.

“ hey um, what about i take you to dinner?..you know just to thank you for all the work you’ve done to help me of course.”, she said with a hopeful look, her bright blue eyes illuminating like the pacific ocean.

how could i say no to those eyes?

“ um..you know what…yea of course. tommorow at 9 sounds good?”, you said , happier than you’d like to admit.

“ i promised’em that your different, and everyone makes mistakes. but just don’t.”

“ i’m telling you, you shouldn’t surround yourself around her, she’s a bad influence! she literally broke your ex friends hearts! both of them! paige isn’t a good girl to fall in love with.”, dominique one of your most recent friends said, stressed out about your love life right now.

“ i mean, she asked me out to dinner…”

“….she what? don’t tell me you said yes…”

“ i said yes.”

————————————————————————-

“ don’t bring me to tears when i just did my makeup so nice.”

you finished up your final touches in your makeup, when u got a text message.

pb and j

hey pretty girl

i’m here

i’m going.

as you came out your dorm, paige was there at your door checking her breath, startled by your sudden appearance, she smiled awkwardly, bringing up lego roses to your face.

how did she know that i didn’t like real flowers? and that i love legos?

your heart warmed at the sight, smiling at her, full teeth on display.

“ thank you paige, you shouldn’t have, really.”, you said, almost feeling bad that she spent money on you that she shouldn’t have.

“ no no no it’s my pleasure honestly.” , she said with a grin, sighing , relieved that you liked the gift.

“ let’s get going?”, you said.

“ whoever is last is the rotten egg!”, she yelled loudly, before running down the hall making her way down the stairs.

————————————————————————

“i heard your an actor, so act like a stand-up guy. whatever devils inside you, don’t let him out tonight.”

they’re at the restaurant, it’s way fancier than you expected. the waiter sat you guys down, and now both of you are looking at the menu.

when the waiter comes back, both of you agreed on chicken alfredo, and both of you got dr. pepper.

you guys start making conversation, talking about the things you didn’t know about eachother , and your goals in life.

————————————————————————

as you guys finished with your delicious meal, you decided that it was time to leave and go home. it was getting late after all.

as both of you walked out, the moon shining bright on your faces, the date unfortunately coming to an end, you guys talked a bit more, laughing at eachother jokes.

“ well that was fun.”, paige said, laughing, her teeth as bright as the stars.

“ yea it really was…”, you say with a smile on your face that couldn’t be removed no matter how hard you tried. a smile so permanent that it ached.

you guys gazed into eachothers eyes, her eyes taking a trip down to your lips, slowly bringing them back to your eyes once again.

“ paige i-“

you got cut off by paige, as she brought her lips to yours, sealing the night in a fond memory of the kiss you shared, the kiss that was between the two of you.

after a while, you opened your eyes and looked at her. she had her goofy smile on, looking at you with….i think love…? no couldn’t be. just lust.

“ um we should do this again. “

say no say no.

“ yes of course”, you said with a smile.

“ okay well…see you later. i’ll text you! “, paige said as she back peddled to her car, winking at you, before running to the vehicle .

god she’s such a goof.

as you got in your car, you only had one thought while having your head on the wheel, thinking about all the occurrences that had happened over the past few months. even though you knew it might end up bad, you couldn’t help but think…

please please please, don’t prove em right.

————————————————————————

WOOHOOO I FINISHED IT DONT PLAYYY!!! i was literally working on this for hours and my friend dominique was helping me with it too( literally love her )!! anyways hope you enjoy and make sure to lmk if yall want a second part or not!!! 💕💕 sorry if it’s bad ik i misspelled a couple i think and definitely misworded but not so bad to the point where you won’t get it. LOVE YAAA!!!💕