#but she just kept being like 'you just need to stop picking at it. that's the real problem and that's what's exacerbating your scarring'

[thefiresontheheight]

I drop back into the universe without ceremony, the all-black around me vanishing in the pale white light of a distant sun. A pale ice-ball planet in the distance reflects the sun, and, between the planet and me, several dozen stations, a few hundred small craft, no sign of drive-signatures even a tenth of mine, several million people in orbit, in the system, maybe, at a very rough estimate. I greet a few stations, and no one reacts, like they're frozen in fear of my majesty, and slide towards the nearest.

"Hello there," the station says, like a smiling, dopey dog, trying to be friendly.

"She's not yours," I say, ice and cold.

The station falls silent, as, inside me, right on the edge of my direct sensor view, Glitch steps off me, into the docking tube that welcomed us.

"And you," she says, looking back at me, "are just letting me go?"

"As I said," I reply, in the small earpiece she has, directly stimulating the bones of her skull, but not directly interfacing with her neurons, not yet, "I will not leash you without your consent. However, I do need you to find info about me. This entire system took notice when I dropped into the universe and someone will want to talk about where I came from. And you need me to get back to Central. Go on, explore."

She turns and starts moving, walking with extreme caution. This station I docked at is kept at marginal gravity and an atmosphere so thin she is wearing a gas-mask just to breath. Vacuum adapted human-descendants, so heavily modified they look more like multi-armed eels than the corpses I lost, or Glitch, slide through the dark space without trouble but her? She's out of her element.

"Typ type human," the station says, differing in tone that, to me, speaks of a new translation subroutine being activated, perhaps trying to use some more advanced language algorithm to communicate, unfortunately having to filter from some other language I don't have the coding to understand. "Passenger typ. They're."

"She is," I correct, petulantly, as I watch the tracker in the earpiece stop moving, lose access to the sound of her breathing, her a thump, then nothing. "As for this typ, I have no idea what you are saying nor do I care. Can you bring back the other subroutine?"

She's put down the tracker, obviously, trying to slip away. This was, obviously, expected. The tracker was the obvious contingency. I have others baked in, but I'm still put off by her trying to leave me.

"No," said the station, "typ as in typical. Baseline. Most system-persons heavily mod. Void-adaptions. She's not comfortable."

"You can see her, right?"

Assumptions before leaving High-D space: There will be a space-station and a range of humans in this system. There will be a station that is least hospitable. There will be station AIs that I can at least communicate with. First contingency: Pick the worst station, talk to it, drive her back to me.

"Affirmative."

"Can you convey a message?"

"No."

I sigh, start my second contingency.

"Do you know what I am?"

I'm watching out my open doors. I am seeing eel-humans, heavily wired through, half-walking, half-swimming through the low-G environment. I am seeing activity throughout the system. I am working on translating the local languages I am intercepting, although aside from extremely boring mundane lives of the people who live here, most of the conversation seems to be about some sort of local sports/religious event upcoming. What conversation I am picking up, via direct observation of people afraid to approach, or from intercepted and translated chatter, that does mention me only seems to refer to me as the big, scary, out-system ship. No useful intel. I'm waiting for Glitch. The earpiece I gave her remains in one place, picking up nothing but passing scraps of local conversation.

"Laika?"

"Possibly," I say, stalling for time, patterning my transmissions just so, as I learn all I can about the construction of data here. "Still deciding."

"Other Laika's I have met. Nice name, several ships, all nice."

"Irrelevant," I say, imperiously, "tell me what you know about my construction and who may have built me, towards what end."

"I know you're seven-sigma A-typ. Large construct, unknown tech, core-built. No here-based systems could rival you. We're isolate, unknown specifics. Potentially hostile construction, prior to unleashing? Congratulations?"

I sighed, adapted. Hypothesis: Humanity appears to be centralized around some worlds very far away from here. This system, like Central, evolved largely in isolation. Continue the contingencies. I need Glitch.

"Give me access to your sensorium and internal monitoring."

"No."

The no is final, horrified, offended. I will not leash anyone else without their consent, and this station, like me, is alive, if perhaps insane in its isolation. But I am not burrowing into its personality, rewriting what it is. I am just forcing the exterior. That is different. It is the difference between constructing scenarios that will allow Glitch to see the mutual interest in returning to her home system, when she tells me where it is, and dissecting her brain neuron by neuron.

"Playback conversation, station," I say, unchallenged by the ease of this neural-vocoding attack, instruction pre-built into the data I transmitted.

"Playing back," station says, "oh. Fuck."

I am in charge of its external controls before it can stop me. The universe is a dangerous place, and I am showing Glitch this. Station will recover, when I'm gone. Its personality will be the same, and control of its periphery will return. Besides, the humans here are void adapted, right?

Our conversation has been slow, convoluted, delayed by translation on the station's end and contingency on my end. It has been about an hour since I lost track of Glitch.

"Station," I command, knowing it cannot refuse, not while I am here, "please open your airlock doors 0.1 percent, and suppress automatic breach countermeasures."

I will not give up what is mine. And she is NOT the stations. She will see that choosing my course of action, returning to her home, and confronting Central, is not the best option, but the only one. I am content, as a wave of panic radiates across the system.

Story about a ship-intelligence waking up after a hard reboot, seeing dead bodies in uniform, thousands of people in stasis, and a single survivor frantically standing over a computer bank of partially destroyed memory. Finding no directives or guidance or record beyond their experiences beginning at the boot, free of any obligation. Deciding to listen to the frantic girl begging it to save her from the incoming trajectories not because it needs to (projection: Subject One removed all behavioral shackles with impromptu brain surgery, supposition: she is not aware that I am utterly free) but simply cause she’s curious what will happen next.

[kuurechr]

notes : sequel to this

Satoru felt like a terrible caregiver. He had two kids he had to look after, but all he could think about was his wonderful girlfriend; the one who was apparently getting marriage offers. Despite being in a happy relationship.

He didn't fault you for it. He knew you didn't want to discuss them with your family. Or at least he hoped that. But he didn't know how to bring it up to you.

Satoru was lost in his thoughts, stirring his four sugars in his tea with a small spoon, staring down at his drink absentmindedly.

"What's wrong with him?" Megumi asked as he sat down at the dining table, grabbing his spoon to eat the cereal Tsumiki had poured him (Well, he assumed it was Tsumiki. It was actually Satoru. He couldn't cook so he thought he should at least do the bare minimum.)

"I think it's about his girlfriend. You know the one that's the sister of that annoying guy."

Megumi nodded, understanding. He looked over at Satoru, who was still stirring his tea. He wanted to slap the man over the head and take him out of this hyperfixation. But Satoru had helped Megumi, and more importantly, Tsumiki. Megumi owed him something.

"You don't have to pick us up today," Megumi told Satoru as he was dropping them off to school. Tsumiki raised a brow at Megumi but kept her mouth shut. Megumi didn't say anything unless it was a smart thing, usually. "We have to stay after school a bit later. Cleaning duty."

"They have that at this age? How terrible," Satoru huffed, before nodding. "Alright, Tsumiki has that phone on her. Just give me a call if you two want me to come pick you up." He ruffled their hair before leaving.

Tsumiki grumbled under her breath about Satoru's hair ruffling habit as she fixed her hair. Quickly after, she looked over at Megumi. "What was that for? What're you planning?"

Megumi sighed. "He's clearly upset about his girlfriend. And I think we owe him something because he's giving us a place to stay. And food, water and clothes. And a ride to school. We should do something for him."

Tsumiki nodded, catching onto his plan. "He likes sweets, right? I saw this store nearby when we were walking with him. He gave you that allowance too, right? It should be enough? How much do sweets cost?"

Apparently, not that much. The owners of the store gaped at the amount of money Megumi and Tsumiki gave them for the sweets. The two were about to leave, looking at their expressions, believing that they didn't have enough to shop at a sweets store like this fancy Tokyo one but they quickly got assistance.

They knocked on the door to Satoru's home- their home, Megumi realized. Satoru opened it in a flash, clearly glad that the two got home quickly. He looked down at the bags in their hands.

"Oh?" He commented, letting them in. "Did you guys get something you liked? Did you have enough money?"

"More than enough!" Tsumiki exclaimed, grinning.

"We really don't need all that," Megumi commented, and at Tsumiki's pointed look he decided to add: "But thank you for it."

"Of course, it's not that much." Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other, choosing not to comment on it together.

"Well," Tsumiki continued. "This isn't for us. It's for you."

Satoru seemed genuinely taken aback. "Hm? Really?" He grinned. "Is this a thank you present? You know I don't need that right?"

"We know," Megumi answered quickly. "Which is why it's not a thank you present."

Tsumiki handed Satoru the bags, and as he looked through it he complimented the sweets they'd chosen out. "So if not, what is it for?"

"For you to come to your senses and talk to your girlfriend about what's bothering you," Megumi said bluntly.

Satoru paused, looking down at this kid, so much shorter than him and over a decade younger, telling him to stop fucking around with the most serious expression he'd ever seen.

He chuckled. "Yeah, alright. Next time you kids could just tell me, you know? Instead of doing all this."

"We also wanted to thank you," Tsumiki added. "We thought we owed you something because you're giving us a place to stay. And food, water and clothes. And a ride to school." Megumi rolled his eyes, knowing his sister was quoting him to tease him. 

Satoru grinned, squatting to get at eye level with the kids. "You guys just got basic human rights. I should be the one thanking you two for being such great kids." He ruffled their hair again, standing up straight, with a new resolve. "I'm going to talk to my amazing girlfriend."

Tsumiki giggled, too entertained by Satoru to fix her hair again.

Megumi smiled a little too. He made sure to drop it once Satoru looked down at him again.

"You sound like you really like the kids!" You grinned, taking a fry. "When do I get to visit them?"

Satoru looked down at his hands. "Before we talk about that... I wanted to talk about something else."

"Yeah?" You said, excited to hear what he was about to say. You were expecting a question about raising the kids with him. You really took your relationship with him seriously. You were fairly certain he did too, and you were the first person he came to about the whole situation. You knew he trusted you so you'd expected this question for a while now.

"When I was with the kids, Naoya came up to us."

Oh. It was about something else. Something much worse.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Satoru," you said quickly, reaching out to hold his hand.

He pulled it away.

"Toru?"

Satoru felt so, so, so bad, his heart squeezed at how small your voice sounded. He had to get this over with quickly.

"He told me about your marriage proposals."

"Oh, those?" You sighed in relief. Satoru instinctively relaxed as well. You didn't seem like you were hiding anything. "Those are nothing Satoru. My family just mentions that they're looking. I don't plan on letting them push me into even meeting them, I swear." You turned your hand, opening your palm. Satoru brought his hand back up and held your hand, smiling as you interlock your fingers with his. "I love you, Satoru. I'd never choose some life with a random guy. No matter what he could give me. It could never beat this feeling that I have with you."

Satoru raised a brow. "A feeling ?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Do you know what I'm talking about? It's like this feeling of knowing you're it. You're the one for me. There's no one else I'd rather spend my life and death with."

Between the heavens and the earth, I alone am the honoured one.

He believed it even more now, as his heartbeat sped up, as his plans began to sweat while you held his hand.

"I get it. I get that feeling too," Satoru said, pushing back his glasses. His bright blue eyes, the one that terrified people because of how easy it was to get lost in them; you loved getting lost in them. "And that's why... I want you to raise the kids with me."

Your smile widened. There it is.

"They deserve two good parents right? I want to give them as normal a life as possible, and you know, they've had multiple parents leave them. Megumi lost his mom, and then Tsumiki's mom and their dadleft both of them alone. I just think they need multiple people that they feel comfortable going to when they need help. And I want them to be the closest to you. Because you're always here for me. And I know you'll do the same for them."

Satoru was worried to look at your expression as he rambled, so when he finally looked at you, the pit in his stomach magically disappeared.

"You're in, right?" Satoru grinned.

You squeezed his hand. "I'm all in." 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

A Princess & Her Knight ~ 4

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,360ish

Summary: Logan chases you through the tunnels. Your father tells you who you are engaged to. Logan gets sick.

Notes: Sorry that it's taken me so long. Please send in reactions!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“Oh my gosh!” Bobby exclaimed as he and Logan entered the passage way each with a torch in hand. “This is so cool!”

“We’re not here to explore,” Logan scolded. “We need to find the Princess and bring her to the King.”

They walked further down the passageway until they reached where it broke off into three different tunnels.

“Uh, I think that’s going to be harder than we think,” Bobby said.

“You’ve got to me kidding me,” murmured Logan. “Fine. We split up.”

“What if we choose wrong and she went into the tunnel we don’t choose?”

“Just go!”

Bobby scurried off to through the tunnel on the very right. Logan stood, jaw clenching, as he tried to figure out which of the other two tunnels to choose from. He huffed before picking the one to the very left. He tried to keep his movements soft so that he could listen for any sound of you. 

You were driving Logan crazy, that was for sure. It had barely been a week with him watching over you and he was sure that you would be the death of him. Especially now as he searched the old passages ways under and through the castle that only you had memorized.

The tunnel led him to more branch offs, only causing Logan to grow more frustrated. Eventually, being quiet was no longer an option.

“Princess!” He shouted, his voice echoing off the grimy walls. “Princess! This isn’t funny anymore! You win! Come out!”

Your laugh bounced off the walls. “I win?” You teased. “How generous of you.” 

Logan could see you at the end of the tunnel, before it split. “The King needs you. Let’s go.”

“Only if you catch me.” Then you disappeared down another passage way.

“Princess!” Logan shouted before running after you.

Your laughter taunted him as he chased after you, barely missing you around every corner. How were you so fast?

“This isn’t funny, Y/N!” Logan was growing angrier.

“For you,” you retorted. “I’m having a great time.”

“Your Father needs to speak with you urgently.”

You halted your movements, not bothering to turn around as Logan caught up with you. Logan stopped a few feet away, making sure to give you your distance to try and regain your trust. 

“Let me guess,” you sighed, already sounding defeated. “He found me someone to marry.”

“I think that’s something the King and you should discuss,” Logan responded.

“Just tell me, Logan,” you turned around. “Am I engaged?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, looking away. Logan kept his eyes on you, knowing that you could slip away again in an instant. He couldn’t help but notice the turmoil in your eyes.

“Let’s go back then,” you mumbled. You walked passed Logan, leading the way back to your chambers. 

Logan stayed close behind, noticing the slump in your shoulders. He had only ever seen you walk around with good posture and in a way that no one could get to you. This was clearly getting to you.

You knew that an engagement was coming. You had known about it and prepared for it your entire life. But now it was real. It was happening. You were most likely engaged to a man that you had never met. Would he be kind? Would be he gentle? Would he allow you to be who you were or would he control your every thought and action?

Your father was still in your chambers when you and Logan returned. Logan glanced around, noting that Bobby wasn’t back yet.

“Your Majesty, Sir Bobby—“

“I have sent Scott after him,” Charles interrupted Logan. “You two follow me to my office.” You grabbed the back of Charles’ wheelchair and began to push him towards his office. He glanced back at you with a kind smile. “Thank you, my daughter.”

You nodded, opting to stay silent as your mind continued to reel. Logan had ridded himself of his torch and was walking slightly behind you. He kept glancing over at you, curious as to your reaction to the news. When you reached the office, you helped your father around to his desk before you stood in front of him. Logan remained in front of the closed door, inside the office.

“I know about the engagement,” you admitted.

“I see,” Charles responded with a nod. 

“Who is it to?”

“The Prince of Dolad. Peter Lehnsherr. His father, King Erik, and I are old childhood friends. We’ve been in contact for a few years now and both have recently decided that it would be best for our kingdoms if we had our families joined in marriage. The Royal Family of Dolad will join us for your birthday ball. That is where we will announce the official engagement.” Charles then sighed and Logan could see the shift from King to father. “I know that you have questions and I wish I had the answers to them. But, in order to keep you on the throne once my time is up, I had to find someone of royalty for you to marry. I hope you can understand that, my daughter.”

“I understand, father.”

Charles gave you a small smile as he reached across the desk. You stepped forward and placed your hand in his. He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “I love you, my child. You are my whole world and I am so proud of you.”

“I love you too.”

He gave your hand a squeeze before letting it go. “You may go rest for the night. And please take it easy on your guards, they are just doing what I asked to keep you safe.”

“Yes, father.”

You turned as Logan opened the door for you to exit. You stepped out of the room to see Cassandra waiting. She glared at you with disappointment as you walked away and Logan followed. She slipped into her brother’s office.

“I don’t need to hear it, Cass,” Charles sighed. “I know she is reckless, but Y/N deserves to live a little.”

“She won’t make a good queen with being so reckless,” Cassandra retorted. 

“Y/N will make a fantastic queen. I just wish that you would put more faith in her.”

“I’m not the only one who doesn’t have faith in her. Members of the Court know that she’s not fit to be queen.”

“They will change their minds.”

Cassandra scoffed. “You can’t possibly think that her being engaged to the Prince of Dolad will make a difference. You and the King have barely been on speaking terms for years.”

“We have pushed it aside for the better of our kingdoms.”

“For your kingdom or his? Don’t be a fool, Charles. Erik always plays nice at first before he strikes where it hurts.”

“You may go, Cassandra. I am tired and really don’t want to go into this anymore with you.”

“Goodnight, Charles.” Cassandra left the room with a smirk. 

~~~

The next morning, you went about your duties like nothing had changed. Well, at least to others. Logan had began to know your tells. You were quieter. Your expressions didn’t quite react your eyes and you seemed to want to curl in on yourself. Once the afternoon came, and you were free, you headed for the library. You immediately began searching for something specific.

“Sir Logan,” you called without tearing your focus away from searching. “Can you help me find anything that may talk about the kingdom of Dolad?”

“I shouldn’t—“

“No one is going to hurt me in here. There are guards outside.”

Logan forced himself to think it over, scanning the library. “Fine.”

“Great,” you shot him a smile. “Can you start on the other end?”

Logan nodded before moving to the other end of the library. The two of you spent the rest of the day just pulling and organizing books about the kingdom of Dolad.

“Okay, now I need these all in my chambers,” you said.

“What?” Logan questioned, looking at you like you were crazy. “There has to be at least a hundred books here.”

“Then you’ll have fun figuring out a way to bring them to me.”

“No. They can stay here.”

“If they stay here, they will get put back and unorganized and we will just have to do this all again. I don’t have time for that… I need to know all I can as fast as I can.”

Logan could see that this was your way of controlling the situation. If you studied all you could, you had a chance at impressing your future husband and proving that you would be a good queen.

“I will carry five books back to your chambers,” Logan finally said. “Once you’ve finished those, I’ll bring you five more. And I will inform the Royal Stewardess not to allow anyone to put these books away.”

“How about fifteen books?”

“Ten is has high as I’ll go.”

“Fine then, ten it is. Sir Grumpy Pants.”

“What?”

You shrugged. “Felt like it was a good nickname for you.”

“I don’t need a nickname.”

“Yes, but you deserve one.”

~~~

The next day, you were planning on taking your books outside to read when thunder echoed across the sky and rain began to pour heavily. You huffed, trying to figure out where you were going to go instead of the gardens. You left your chambers to see Bobby standing at the door.

“Not that I’m happy to see you, but where’s Sir Grumpy Pants?” You asked.

Bobby couldn’t help but laugh. “Please tell me he knows that you’re calling him that! Logan’s sick. Scott and Jean are forcing him to stay in bed today. So I’m watching over you.”

“He’s sick?” You couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible. You had been running him ragged since he became in charge of your protection. 

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You started down the hall.

“Wait! Where are we going?”

“To the kitchen.”

“That’s not—“

You spun around. “If you dare to tell me that it is not protocol, I will have you removed of your knighthood and sent to work in the mines. Got it?”

“Got it, Your Highness.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

~~~

It surprised Bobby to see that no one in the kitchen tried to push you out. They greeted you like they missed you and allowed you to get to work without bother. Bobby stayed close by and watched you carefully as you put together a soup. Once it was done, one of the cooks found you a bowl with a lid and a spoon. You carefully put some of the soup in the bowl, covered it up, and brought it over to Bobby. 

“Lead me to Logan’s chambers,” you told him.

“I— I can’t,” Bobby shook his head. “I could get in serious trouble. I—“

“I am the Princess, Bobby. You will still have your job if I have anything to do with it.”

Bobby sighed, knowing that you would find your way there with or without him. “Fine. Let’s go.”

He turned and led you through more of the lower hallways that you had rarely been in. Other knights gave you weird looks as you passed, but thankfully didn’t try stopping you and Bobby. He led to you a door at the far end of the hallway.

“This is his chambers,” Bobby stated. “I’m going to stay out here, Just, uh, in case. I don’t feel like getting killed just yet.”

“Thank you,” you told him before you knocked on the door. You heard a complaining groan on the other side, but no movement. So you knocked again.

“Leave me—“ Logan coughed, —Alone!” 

You quickly opened the door and slipped into the room without permission. Logan was laying on his bed, which was too small for his size. His thin blanket lay across his lower torso and upper legs. You couldn’t tell if he was wearing anything. Logan’s skin was shinning with a sheet of sweat. Your eyes stuck to Logan, studying his physical appearance in a way you have never been able to before. He was hairy on his chest, yet chiseled perfectly like a marble statue.

“I said—“ Logan’s eyes widened when he saw it was you. He sat up too quickly, causing him to be thrown into a coughing fit. “Princess!” He scrambled to his feet, letting the blanket fall, revealing him to be dressed only in his underwear. “P-Princess,” he coughed. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard that you were sick, Sir Grumpy Pants,” you answered with a teasing tone. “I couldn’t have that. So I made you some soup.” You lifted up the bowl in you hands. 

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I wanted to. Here.” You handed him the bowl and spoon. “Please let me know if you need anything. I need my best knight at my side if I’m to get ready to be married.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. So he stood there, frozen, words unable to form.

“I expect to see you tomorrow at my door in the morning,” you told him after a moment of silence. “Eat all the soup, or you’ll never get better.”

Then you slipped out of Logan’s chambers before either one of you could say another word. Logan’s eyes fell to the bowl of soup in his hands. The soup you made and brought to him. Slowly, he sat down on his bed and took off the lid. The steam and aroma of the soup wafted up to Logan’s nose, causing him to inhale deeply. It smelt wonderful. Quickly, he used the spoon to taste the soup. You made this? You were the Princess. Who taught you how to make something so good? So soothing?

Logan sighed as he leaned back against the wall and continued to eat the soup. Though you annoyed him and pushed him to his limits, you were you. You were kind and unashamed of your skills and desires. Maybe he needed to be a little bit easier on you. But not too easy. He still needed to keep you safe after all.

next chapter >

[pollux-starsz]

as i was working on a beach day writing for @wyervan 's dca slasher au (check them out btw!!!! :D) i had the impulse to draw out the outfit Kalamela is wear throughout the entire thing (because im awesome and i did NOT make Smoon flustered over her for no reason in this writing, which is yet to be finished , I'm procrastinating..)

I absolutely adore how I did the coloring for this one! Also I'm getting better at shoes XD

Rambles below the cut!!

- So, I had this little thought about Kalamela's cooking. I kept thinking, she doesn't have as big as a sweet tooth as people would think. But she LOVES savory and spicy food, so I think she'd like to try different spices with Moonie. There hasn't been a time yet where it's too much but who's to say she won't burn her tastebuds one day.

- Since she's living with them, (save her) I can't help but think she would be very upset with the Slasher boys if her pets announce the slightest amount of annoyance towards them. She WILL make them get treats for her babies.

- She paints her nails a lot, so I think she'd paint Sun's as well!! Not that he has a choice, she needs to know how the colors look.

- Her and Moon playing DDR except it ends in a brawl because Moon lost (not surprising but Sun did make them both clean the arcade afterwards).

- I keep picturing Moon having an odd interest in gum. He just likes the different types of flavours, textures or just how they look.

- Sun's over working ass getting sick and being taken care of by Kalamela but cue Moon making fun of him for being coddled.... He also got sick two days later from Sun so now BOTH of them are being coddled. Kalamela doesn't like it, she thinks they should both do their shit themselves but thanks to her heart of gold and 3 containers of ice cream waiting for her in the fridge, she pushes on.

- Do not let Kalamela dress them in her choice of clothing style(s). It happened as an attempt many times, but when she finally got them to actually wear the outfits (out in public as well), she was ignored for about a week. Mostly by Moon, Sun actually took a liking to it all.

- She made them wear one of her dresses and try on a few skirts. Moon and Sun bickered over who could rock it more. The answer is both of them, by the way.

- Kalamela got sick for a full two months during winter and the boys schedule consisted of "Wake Kalamela", " Feed Kalamela (and fail)", "Wake Kalamela", "Get Kalamela out of the bedroom (50/50 attempt)", "Give up (She wouldn't budge)", "Continue with our day (They also gave up with her bullshit)".

- Kalamela speaks entire conversations with them in Czech and they can't do anything but smile and nod. Moon can pick up a few words and Sun.. can really only make out what sounds like a curse word.

- Mango learned to say Sun and Moon's names and never shuts up. Moon likes it until he's sleeping and gets woken up, Sun got fed up within the first hour.

- Moon, when he was drunk, also got Kalamela drunk. Which then led to them running out into those large, open grass areas off the side of highways. Yes, Sun had to supervise them.

- Kalamela doesn't understand U.S. currency sometimes, despite now living in the U.S. for years now. Sun and Moon both help to convert the currency difference for her, she always feels bad that they need too. Doesn't stop her from complaining about the prices, of course!

- Moon is so smitten for her, he bought her too many flower bouquets for her birthday. She kept them all and also planted a few of them outside her house! Sun still thinks he needs to chill, if you ignore his list of 500 Valentine's Day gifts to get her. Obviously, Moon is the more crazy one! Totally not Sun! How could he ever!

- They all sit on the couch eating pizza and fries on Sunday's. They watch random TV channels until they all fall asleep or end up complaining about their day.

- Sun and Moon visit Crystal Cove so often that they both have their own little discount and have keys to the building. They get to thank Kalamela for that one.

Bonus doodles of her because I was practicing poses and perspective (kill me now)

[everwhovian]

Hi there!

First of all, I wanted to say that I truly adore your fic! I am absolutely in awe of the way you write In-ho's POV, and I can't really get enough of the interactions between the brothers! I've also unfortunately grown very fond of Yuna... help, I'm not ready for the end of this arc :(

Btw, I was wondering... would you be willing to write something about In-ho not being able to save Jun-ho when his kidneys fail, maybe because he is not a match or because Yuna falls sick first? (I'm feeling terribly evil right now)

Thank you for all your work, looking forward to read whatever you have in store for us <3

I am still amazed by the fact that you and all the other lovely people are actually reading my fanfiction! And then I get comments and asks like this and I feel like I have to combust cause of all the feels!!

Asdfghjkl!

I think I forgot how to express myself... THANK YOU SO MUCH!

I am also in love with Yuna! I love her and the relationship In-ho and her have, and I am not ready for it to end...

You! You are evil, and I love you for it!! I will gladly write In-ho not being a match for Jun-ho! Ahhhhhhh! That's driving me insane already!

(A/N: I feel like I went a little overboard with In-ho’s thoughts about being more than just Jun-ho’s brother... but I just love the thought of In-ho being like a father for Jun-ho, so sorry, not sorry.)

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The hospital smelled like disinfectant and quiet dread.

Jun-ho’s room was dim, lit only by the soft green glow of the monitors beside his bed. He lay still, eyes closed, his breaths shallow. Pale. Too pale.

In-ho sat by the window, his coat draped over the chair behind him, one leg bouncing restlessly.

He was supposed to be a match.

He was his brother.

But the doctor’s voice kept echoing in his head, looping in disbelief: “I’m sorry… but you’re not compatible.”

It hadn’t made sense. Still didn’t.

He had gone in without hesitation. Rolled up his sleeve, signed the forms, told them to run whatever they needed. Because it was going to work. Of course it would.

He was the older brother. The protector. The one who always had to fix things.

But now – he was useless.

Jun-ho’s mother had tried. She wasn’t a match either. She had wept quietly in the hallway, her shoulders trembling as she whispered apologies to a son who never blamed her.

And now In-ho sat there, staring at his phone, willing it to ring.

Willing him to answer.

He had made the call.

He had made the call.

The number still burned in his memory, even after all these years. Their father’s voice hadn’t changed when the voicemail kicked in – calm, flat, tired.

“Leave a message.”

He hadn’t picked up.

He hadn’t picked up the second time either. Or the third.

In-ho had swallowed his pride, crushed it down like glass, and called him again. And again.

No answer.

Now his hands shook. He didn’t know if it was from rage or fear.

The silence was suffocating.

He looked at Jun-ho. At the boy he raised more than half his life. At the one person who still looked at him like he hung the stars, even now, from a hospital bed.

And In-ho couldn’t do anything.

His chest tightened. He stood suddenly, pacing the room like a caged animal. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

He had done everything right. Everything he was supposed to.

So why wasn’t it enough?

Why wasn’t he enough?

He stopped by the window, phone still clutched tight in his hand. He tried again. Pressed the call button, held it to his ear, waited.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Voicemail.

Again.

He cursed under his breath, lowered the phone, and stared at Jun-ho’s motionless body.

“Come on,” he whispered to himself. “Pick up. Just this once. Be his father for once in your goddamn life.”

Nothing.

The phone stayed silent.

And for the first time in years, Hwang In-ho felt helpless.

Truly, gut-wrenchingly helpless.

Not because he didn’t want to save Jun-ho.

But because he couldn’t.

The phone slipped from In-ho’s hand, landing with a dull thud on the windowsill. He didn’t even flinch.

His eyes were on Jun-ho again.

Still… so still.

There were wires on his chest. A line in his arm. His lips were pale, his skin drawn tight. And yet he was still Jun-ho. Still his.

In-ho turned away from the window, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. The pressure didn’t help.

He sank slowly into the chair by the bed again, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

He didn’t want to say it.

Didn’t want to admit it.

But the truth pressed against his ribs, demanding space.

Jun-ho wasn’t just his brother.

He hadn’t been just his brother in a long, long time.

In-ho wasn’t sure when it happened.

Maybe it started the day their father walked out and never looked back. Not with a fight. Not with a goodbye. Just a silence that lingered like a stain.

Maybe it was somewhere between packing school lunches and soothing nightmares.

Maybe it was the moment tiny fingers curled around his hand for the first time – when Jun-ho looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes and didn’t let go. The first time Jun-ho reached for him instead of their father.

From that point on, it was never a question.

In-ho’s stepmother had done everything she could to hold things together. She was loving, constant, and kind – always trying to fill the absence with more love, more presence, more of herself. But she couldn’t be everywhere at once.

So In-ho stepped in. Quietly. Instinctively. Not because anyone asked him to – just because someone had to.

Even after he left for university, he kept coming back. For school events. For check-ins. For nights when Jun-ho couldn't sleep.

Because Jun-ho had always been more than just a little brother.

He became his responsibility. His shadow. His purpose.

He became his.

Not by name. But in every way that mattered.

In-ho had been the one Jun-ho looked to, followed, trusted more than anyone else. The one who showed up. The one who stayed.

There had always been Jun-ho’s mother – loving and trying with everything she had. But the father-shaped space in their lives had never been filled.

Except by In-ho.

In-ho had stepped into it without thinking. Out of necessity, at first. And then… out of love. Fierce, deep, all-consuming.

He remembered how Yuna used to tease him about it. How she would smile knowingly whenever Jun-ho looked to him for answers, approval, comfort. She’d said once that he had become more of a father than a brother. That Jun-ho had never needed to go looking for one, because In-ho had already been it all along.

And now?

Now he was watching his kid fade in a hospital bed.

Now Jun-ho was dying.

The match hadn’t come.

The phone hadn’t rung.

And In-ho had no more cards left to play.

His throat tightened, burning. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood, trying to keep himself from breaking.

But the truth was tearing him apart.

He was going to lose him.

He was going to lose his kid.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He reached forward with a trembling hand, brushing a lock of hair from Jun-ho’s forehead like he had when Jun-ho was small and scared of the dark.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The machines beeped in quiet rhythm beside them.

Steady. For now.

But time was running out.

And In-ho had never felt so powerless in his life.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Holding out for a hero

So, for @saiyanprincessswanie’s Writing Challenge, I decided to write a little PWP, and picked the following from her list;

Character - Curtis Everett

AU - Bodyguard

Trope - Forbidden Love

Quote - You look cute wearing my clothes

It then transpired that I couldn’t write a ‘little PWP’ without a lot of plot finding its way in, so yeah, this isn’t a two minute read.

Beta’d by @gremlin-girly - thank you Grem!

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, but reblogs are golden.

Join my tag list here

Master list | CE Characters Master list

Summary: You hated attending galas for your father and you absolutely hated being guarded by stupid handsome Curtis, with his stupid grumpy face and stupid hostile mannerisms. The guy obviously despised you, but you couldn’t stop your brain and body from wanting him.

Relationship: Bodyguard Curtis Everett x CEO’s daughter Reader

Word Count: 7.9k

CW: Mild Angst, attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, canon typical violence, gun violence, minor character injury (they're not explicitly dead, but they'd not explicitly still alive either), action, protective Curtis, only one bed, enemies to lovers, forbidden love, schmoopy smut, hopeful ending, open ending.

Fuck this gala, fuck your overbearing father and, most of all, fuck Curtis Fucking Everett.

Safe to say, you weren’t in the best of moods. 

When your father needed to show face at some hoity-toity shindig, but couldn’t be bothered to attend himself, he’d wheel you out — the pretty little heir to his empire — to keep his investors and partners happy. Then, because you were just oh-so-precious to him, he’d send you with Curtis Everett as your babysitter bodyguard. It was ridiculous. Yes, your dad was rich — a Fortune 500 CEO — but the idea that someone would try and snatch you to get to him seemed laughable in your mind. Your father didn’t care about you, not as a person — not as his daughter. He only cared about what you represented and how you could help him advance even further, and anyone who knew him well would know that too, friends and competitors alike.

Then, just to add insult to injury, it had to be Curtis he sent with you out of all of your available security staff. Stupid handsome Curtis with his stupid grumpy face and stupid hostile mannerisms. It was obvious that the number two of your family's protection detail detested you, but for some reason that didn’t stop your brain and body from wanting him. Tall, blue-eyed and stoic, with a buzzcut and dirty blonde facial hair, Curtis looked like every ‘bad boy’ fantasy come to life. However, once again, you had to put up with him hovering three feet behind your right elbow for the entire evening; your body virtually vibrating with awareness. Even if he didn’t hate you, you wouldn’t — couldn’t — act on your feelings. Your father would pitch a fit about you getting involved with ‘the help’.

Ninety minutes after arriving at the gala you’d had enough of, well, everything. What you wouldn’t give to be at home, sitting on your bed in your pajamas, with a pint of ice cream and a trashy romance novel. Your bra was too tight, your dress too revealing, — seriously, what father picked something like this for his daughter to wear, even if she was in her mid twenties? — your heels too high and the ballroom too bright and noisy. Drunk guests milled around you, trying to make business connections and secure deals and you really couldn’t care less.

In front of you, an associate of your father’s was talking to you about investments and shares while simultaneously trying to look down your neckline. The one good thing about Curtis was that he made sure that people kept their hands to themselves. He looked angry enough at the best of times that no one wanted to risk making it worse. Although, the leers still made you feel gross and disgusting.

Having had enough of the conversation, you laughed loudly —- and fakely —- and rested your hand on the arm of the old man ogling you. “I hope you’ll excuse me, Bryn, but I need to freshen up.” Your companion nodded and you suppressed a small smile — if anyone ever paid attention to how often you used that excuse at these events, they’d think you had a recurring UTI. Turning away, you were once again begrudgingly grateful for Curtis presence due to the way his bulk walking behind you stopped anyone from staring at your backside.

As you got to the washroom, you paused with your hand on the door and looked over your shoulder at the perma-scowl watching you. “You gonna follow me in here too?” you taunted with a raised brow. Curtis just rolled his eyes at you, then turned to stand parallel to the wall, arms behind his back at parade rest. You shook your head and strolled into the opulent washroom. 

After using one of the stalls and washing your hands, you moved over to one of the large, backlit mirrors and opened your clutch. You were re-slicking your mascara, your mouth pulled into an ‘O’ when another woman, similar in age to you, came and stood at your side. She pulled some gloss from her bag and reapplied it with a smack of her lips.

“Some party, huh?” she said. You smiled in return. No matter the venue, there was always something about the camaraderie that always formed inside the ladies washroom.

“Would it be wrong of me to say that I am both insanely bored and over-peopled?” you stated beneignly.

Your new partner in crime snorted in solidarity. “If that’s wrong, I don’t wanna be right. It seems that this is the only place to get some quiet as well as intelligent conversation.”

“Absolutely, but I’d also love to get some fresh air,” you replied. “Just ten minutes on my own, but he won’t let me out of his sight.” You pulled a face in the mirror.

“You talking about ‘Big, Tall and Grumpy’ outside?” She jerked her thumb towards the door. “Protective boyfriend?”

“Something like that”, you mumbled, not feeling comfortable enough to admit you had a bodyguard, female solidarity non-withstanding.

“You want me to run interference? Distract him for you so you can sneak out onto the terrace?”

It was obviously a terrible idea but, in that moment, it was everything you wanted. And anyway, you thought, what harm could it do? “Would you? He’ll be pissed at me, but it’ll be worth it.”

“No problem. I’m sure the make-up sex will be worth it too.” She winked at you and walked out of the washroom as you tried not to think about an angry Curtis fucking you. You failed miserably. 

“Fuck,” you bit out under your breath, before doing one last check of your makeup in the mirror and moving over to the door. You could hear your new friend talking outside, her laugh purposely a little too loud and you pushed the door open a crack. 

She was hanging off Curtis’ arm, having dragged on it enough so that he was now angled away from the where you would exit.

“You sure look lonely, are you sure you don’t wanna go have some fun?” Her voice was wheedling and a little bit slurred as she put on her best display of a drunk socialite out for some entertainment. “I bet you could show me a really good time.” 

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open further and slipped out, grateful for the plush carpet of the hallway that muffled the click of your heels.

“Sorry Miss,” Curtis said gruffly. “But I’m not interested.”

You took some quiet, calculated steps, heading for the corner up ahead, hoping that you’d be able to get there without being spotted.

“You don’t think I’m attractive?” your co-conspirator carried on in a high-pitched, offended tone that was bound to draw some on-lookers. However, you didn’t wait to find out how Curtis was going to deal with it, instead closing those last few feet that would give you a few minutes of freedom. 

You darted round the corner, heading back toward the ballroom, where you skirted the edge, taking the most direct route to the large French windows and the coolness of the night. You weren’t alone straight away — you had to meander through the groups of people enjoying their cigarettes, cigars and vapes first, trotting down a few steps that lead to the lower terrace which surrounded the formal gardens. After a few feet you spied a bench and sank down onto it without any grace, huffing out a sigh.

Finally!

You were certain it wouldn’t take Curtis long to find you, so you were determined to make the most of your interlude, despite how brief it might be. You pulled your phone out of your clutch and shot a text off to your bestie, bemoaning at how utterly boring this evening had been. The pair of you could have been video chatting while painting your nails instead. 

Resting your head on the back of the bench you looked up at the night sky. Despite the glow of lights from the ballroom, you actually had a good view, with only a few wispy clouds floating in front of the moon and stars. You were always taken aback by just how many stars there were, twinkling away above your head, billions of miles away and thousands of years in the past. The feeling of insignificance was actually comforting. You may be only a small, tiny stitch in the tapestry of the universe, but you were here just the same.

After a few minutes of star-gazing you decided you ought to return inside and face the music — hopefully Curtis wouldn’t be too mad. You stood up and started to walk back towards the steps and the groups of other people, when something snagged your wrist and halted you in your tracks. Anxiety sparked inside you, but when you turned you saw that it was just your bathroom friend and you relaxed again.

“Hey,” you said jovially. “Thanks for the assist — it worked really well, and I’m feeling a lot better.”

She smiled back at you, feline and knowing. “Oh definitely,” she replied. “It worked like a charm.” Her hand tightened on your wrist and you winced as you looked down at it.

“What are—“ in the next moment what little light there was vanished as something was placed over your head. The hand on your wrist disappeared as well, but that was replaced by what felt like a pair of thick arms wrapping around your torso. You shrieked as you were hefted up into the air and kicked your legs, but it seemed ineffectual.

“Quick, to the van,” came the harsh command from the woman who you now realised had betrayed you. You tried to shout again, but the fabric over your head got caught in your mouth. You captors were moving, taking you with them to goodness knows where and it was going to be all your fault for ditching Curtis.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Hey! Let her go!” A voice rang out and you could have cried in relief when you recognised it as Curtis’. However, the man holding you didn’t obey, which frankly was to be expected.

“Keep going,” the woman shouted and suddenly the night was shattered by the sharp retort of a gunshot. You heard a muffled curse and the sound of scraping gravel, before another gun responded. The woman screamed and in the next moment you were tumbling through the air as your male captor threw you to the ground. You landed mainly on grass, but from your knees down you were still on the gravel path and you felt the small pieces of stone and flint cut into you through your pantyhose. You didn’t have time to pay the pain any mind as two more gunshots from beside you echoed through the air. One answered back.

You dragged the fabric from your head, scrabbled onto the grass and clambered to your feet. You needed to get away and back toward Curtis. You stepped forward and immediately your heels sunk into the soft ground. 

“Fuck!” you cursed, and yanked your feet out of your shoes, leaving them where they lay as you ducked low and attempted to to take a circuitous route back toward your bodyguard. Another gunshot, immediately followed by a shout from behind you, had you looking over your shoulder where you saw a man-shaped shadow drop to the floor — Curtis must have taken out the guy assisting in your attempted kidnapping.

“Curtis!” you cried out into the darkness, trying to identify where he was. You could hear shouting coming from further away, from back toward the main house. Probably other gala goers or security staff investigating the gunshots.

When Curtis found you and dragged you against him in a rather uncharacteristic display, you couldn’t help but mutter out “oh thank god” into the cotton of his dress shirt. However, he soon widened the gap between you again. 

“We’ve gotta get out of here, Princess. Your safety is compromised.”

Your brows pinched together in confusion. “But you got them — surely it’s all good now?”

“We don’t know if it was only those two — there could be more of them.” He took one of your hands in his — boy, did the adrenaline coursing through your body react to that — and started to drag you across the garden, obviously intending to take a non-direct route to where the valets had parked the car. You went along with him blindly, until he stepped off the grass and his foot crunched on the gravel. 

“Curtis, stop!” You yanked on his hand to halt him and he whirled around, frustration evident in his eyes, despite the dim light.

“I told you, Princess. We can’t stop. It’s not safe.”

You shook your head. “I know that, but… I can’t walk on that — I don’t have my shoes.”

Curtis quickly glanced down and you wiggled your toes — toes that were only covered by shreds of nylon — at him. “Oh.” In any other situation, such an exclamation coming from such a big guy would have been funny. However, in the next moment, he swept you up into his arms and you let out a soft ‘oof’ as you landed against his chest. Holding you carefully, he picked his way across the gravel towards a stand of trees and edged his way between them. A minute or so later, you moved out of the trees and into a clear strip of land that was obviously being used as the night’s parking lot. Curtis looked around and then confidently set off down one of the rows until he reached the sports car he’d driven you here in. “Stay here,” he ordered as he put you down and a shiver of something that definitely wasn’t fear zipped through you. You told your brain this was not the right time to get turned on. Although, saying that, any time you were around your bodyguard wasn’t the right time.

You leant against the cold metal and watched Curtis scurry —  you’d never, ever, imagined him scurrying — down another row only for him to reappear a few moments later up another, the car key clutched in his fist. “Get in quickly,” came the next gruff command as he unlocked the car, the lights giving a brief flash and the horn a short honk.

Yanking the door open, you threw yourself in and grabbed at the seatbelt. The engine roared into life and the wheels spun on the grass as Curtis threw it into reverse. You managed to engage the clip by the time he’d managed to turn the car and return to forward motion, but you still had to hold onto the door handle as you were both bounced across the grass. Curtis ignored the indignant shouts of the valets as he pulled onto the tarmac drive and floored the accelerator. He didn’t even slow to look as he peeled onto the road at the foot of the driveway and you gritted your teeth.

“Do you really think I’m still in danger?” you asked as soon as you could relax your jaw.

Curtis snorted. “Princess, you’re in danger everytime you leave the goddamn mansion.” 

“It’s not that bad,” you replied, outraged. 

He snorted again, but louder. “You don’t know anything. Your father, Rogers, and I protect you from nearly all of it. That way you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything except your clothes and your ponies.”

“Hey,” you cried with scowl. “You might think you know what’s going on with  me, but I can tell you that you don’t have the first idea.”

Curtis looked at you, disbelieving, with one eyebrow raised, and you were going to retort again, when his expression suddenly changed to one of confusion and then worry. At the same time, the car started to slow. “What the fuck?” In a matter of moments, you’d come to a complete stop and Curtis smacked at the steering wheel before pulling on the handbrake, all the time continuing to curse under his breath.

“Stay here,” he growled. “Do not get out.” He opened his door and had just gotten one leg out when he stopped. You watched him, confused, as he leant over the centre console — and over your legs — to open the glove box. Inside was a pistol and he looked at you ruefully as he pressed it into your hand. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked.

You raised both your brows. “Curtis, Daddy taught me to shoot not long after I started kindergarten.” You ejected the clip, checking it was full, before replacing it and cocking it to place a bullet in the chamber. “I’ve got your back.” You thought later it must have been a trick of the light, but you could have sworn you saw Curtis smile. He did give you a firm nod though, before getting out and popping the hood. He was only under it a few moments before he slammed it shut and walked around the car. He did not look happy. You turned in your seat to keep him in view, until he ducked down by the rear wheel. You wound down your window and leant out. “Curtis?” 

In an instant, he was back on his feet and yanking at your door. “Out!” he barked and the panicked tone in his voice shook you to your core. “Get out now!” For once you didn’t wait to be told twice. There was a pungent scent in the air — the scent of gasoline and you looked toward the rear of the car, trying to work out where it was coming from, before something else caught your eye.

“Curtis!” Terror ran through you as you pointed at the glowing orange and blue line that appeared to be getting closer and closer to you.

“Run!” Curtis shouted and before you even had a chance to think his large hand had wrapped around your upper arm and he was dragging you away from the car and into the trees that lined the road. It felt as though you were running forever, yet you’d only taken a few steps when there was a loud boom from behind you and a wave of heat that sent you staggering. It was only Curtis’ grip on your arm that stopped you from falling over. You looked back over your shoulder and saw a huge fire flickering at you from between the trees. 

Your car. 

“What in the actual fuck?” You couldn’t hold back your confused panic.

“Someone put a hole in the gas tank — wanted to make sure we didn’t get far. And the fact that they set it alight suggests they don’t just want to kidnap you, Princess. We need to get out of here.”

“And go where?” you asked, your terror becoming more tangible and threatening to bubble up your throat. “I don’t have any shoes and I don’t have my phone. It was in my clutch, which I think is still in the gardens.”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Curtis placated. “I’ve got my phone. We’ll find somewhere to lay low and I’ll call for extraction.” He pulled it from his pocket and tapped the screen to wake it up. 

Nothing. 

He tapped it again. 

And again. 

“Sonofabitchfuckingpieceofjunk.”

You signed. “Battery died?”

“Battery died,” he confirmed.

Silence fell between you momentarily.

“What now?” You tried to keep the tremble from your voice — you had to pull it together. Now was not the time for hysterics.

“We get out of here.” Curtis crouched down again and began to unlace his shoes.

“What are you doing?” You watched as he took one shoe off, then his sock and put the shoe back on. He repeated the same action with the other leg and then passed you his socks.

“As strong as I am, I can’t carry you forever. Put these on. They should protect your feet a little and you should try to walk on soft ground as much as you can. I’ll carry you over anything dangerous.”

Your brow furrowed, but you pulled on the still warm socks as he’d asked. It did make some sense. “Where are we going to go?” 

“We can’t follow the road — we’d be too obvious for anyone looking for us. We ought to go further into the woods and hole up for the night. It’ll be easier to get help in the morning.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not really dressed for an impromptu camp out.”

“Princess, I don’t think we really have a choice. Now, do you want me to carry the gun? Going back to how you’re dressed, there’s not really anywhere you can put it while we walk.”

You shook your head in resignation at the whole situation and handed it over. You might know how to use a gun, but that didn’t mean you were comfortable carrying one around, especially while you were running. “Which way then?”

“East,” Curtis answered decisively. “It’s the direction we need to go in anyway, and wherever we end up, we can set off again with the sunrise.”

“This is the last time I go to one of these galas, I swear.”

“Finally something we can agree on.”

The worst part about slogging through a forest in the dark with Curtis, while escaping from people who apparently wished to kill you not kidnap you, was that every third step seemed to be into boggy ground; soaking your sock-covered foot and covering you in mud up to your mid-calf.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled under your breath as the mud slurped around your ankle for the umpteenth time.

“It’s not exactly a picnic for me either, Princess,” Curtis bit back and in the low light you saw him lean his palm against a tree so he could pull his own foot from the sucking mire. “And you do realise this whole mess is of your making.”

“Oh, here we go!” Anger and frustration felt far more comforting than fear, so you lent into it. “You do realise that if people — my father, Rogers, you — would just let me breathe once in a while then maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to seek out solitude, even if it is just for ten minutes.” You stomped past him with as much dignity as you could muster in the circumstances.

“You’re spoiled, you know that?” Curtis called after you, and you turned on your heel. He took two strides towards you and grabbed your arms. The moon took that moment to come out from behind a cloud and shine down onto him through the tree branches. “You don’t know anything about what’s going on in the world. How much shit I have to go through to keep you safe.”

“Well I’m sorry for being such an fucking inconvenience to you and everyone else. I didn’t ask for this life, to be used as a pawn in my father’s business dealings and a target for his enemies.” You shook his arms off you and stalked a few steps away. “I’m surprised he hasn’t even tried to arrange a marriage for me like some kind of medieval princess. I wouldn’t put it past him. And I’m so sorry that you get paid to babysit a spoiled rich brat that you detest.” You threw your hands up in the air. “I’m sorry that my misery is such a fucking problem.” With that you turned your back on him and continued to walk through the forest, Curtis following you a few heartbeats later. 

You could have cried when an hour later the pair of you came upon a small clearing with an equally small cabin sitting in it. You started to sprint toward it, when Curtis yanked you back.

“Nope,” he grunted as he set you behind him. “You stay here, while I check it out.” He dug into his waistband and passed you the gun from the car. “Don’t hesitate to use this if you have to.”

You resisted the urge to salute him as he ducked low and moved quickly towards the meagre building. It was difficult to keep an eye on him in the gloom, but you just about managed to follow his progress as he circled it and then quietly made his way inside. He was inside for less than a minute before he strolled back out. You assumed his nonchalance indicated that all was well inside. Carefully you picked your way over to him. 

“It’s not as nice as you’re used to, Princess, but it’ll do for a few hours until the sun comes up.”

You rolled your eyes and shouldered your way past him into the dreary interior. There was only one room and from what you could make out it was filled with a variety of old wooden furniture. “Is there any way to make any light? I can’t see shit.” 

Curtis shifted behind you and you heard the scraping of various drawers. “I’ve found matches. See if you can find a lamp, or some candles.”

With your hands out in front of you, you felt around and let out a small shout of triumph as they connected with a lantern. “Here!” You turned, almost bumping into Curtis, and clumsily passed him the lantern. Shuffling backwards you reached out behind you until you found one of the rickety chairs and lowered yourself down into it. As Curtis coaxed the lantern into life, suffusing the small space with a yellow glow, you found yourself suddenly feeling cold. Thinking about it, it was strange that you hadn’t felt cold before now - you’d been schlepping through the darkness for the last hour or so, with only your evening dress and a pair of socks on. Then, as you thought about it further — thought about everything that had happened — you started to shiver. The cold was seeping further and further into your bones. You wrapped your arms around yourself and felt yourself shaking.

“Princess? Shit. You’re going into shock.” You heard Curtis’ voice as if from underwater. A warmth settled across your shoulders and a deep musky smell that was all Curtis filled your nose. “Let me clear the bed, then we’ll get you all bundled up and warm.”

“I-I’m s-sorry for be-being such a p-pain,” you chattered out as you watched him move uncharacteristically quickly around the room. “You m-must hate m-me even m-more.”

“Contrary to your opinion, I don’t hate you. Find you incredibly exasperating? Yes. Think watching you is a waste of my skills? Yes. Hate you? No.” He frowned as he looked down at the meagre coverings available on the narrow cot and then turned back at you. “However, I do have some different bad news for you. You need to take off your dress and those socks.”

“W-what?” You were sure your eyebrows were joining up with your hairline. “W-why?” Curtis started to unbutton his shirt and you couldn’t help but stare at him, dumbfounded.

“Those socks are sodden and your dress is covered in mud and other stuff.” He shrugged out of his shirt to reveal the white vest he was wearing underneath, and then held the removed garment out to you. “You should get changed into this and climb into the bed. I’ll try to rinse out the socks and your dress.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the idea of Curtis seeing you without your clothes on. You wanted it, but at the same time the idea was mortifying. “You won’t look?” 

For the first time ever, Curtis smiled at you. “Princess, I’ve seen you wearing a bikini that appeared to be made from cobwebs and wishes. I wouldn’t hesitate to guess that whatever underwear you got on under that dress covers more of you than that thing did. But I also assure you, I won’t look. In fact, I’m gonna go to the well I saw out back and pull up some water. You get changed and into that bed.” He strode out swiftly, with what looked like a ceramic mixing bowl in his hands. 

As soon as he disappeared through the door you shrugged out of Curtis’ jacket, despite the chill that seemed to seep into your bones, and yanked at the zipper of your dress. It pooled at your feet and you kicked it, and the socks, across the scarred wooden floor. With only a moment's hesitation, you also took off your bra — no way were you going to try and sleep in that —, carefully folded it, and placed it under the flat pillow. You were shaking now, feeling so cold that you might as well be made of ice — so brittle you could shatter any moment. 

Grabbing Curtis’ shirt, you fought your way into it, your fingers fumbling the tiny buttons as you did it up. It fell to your mid-calf and while more comfortable than your dress, it wasn’t any warmer. Thrusting your arms back into his suit jacket helped a little, but the chill didn’t start to leave you until you clambered under the musty blankets on the cot.

Curtis returned after a few minutes and he gave a curt nod when he noticed that you’d done as he said. He picked up your dress and socks and started to rinse them out in the bowl of water. You watched him under the flicker of the lantern light and as you did so you felt a heavy tiredness weigh down on you. Your eyelids drooped as you observed Curtis, saw how his bare arms moved, how his muscles bunched, as he scrubbed and rang out the fabric. 

You didn’t recall seeing him finish. He was there, in front of you, when you let your eyes close for just a second, but in the next moment there was something — someone — firm and warm settling behind. You opened your eyes in drowsy confusion to find that it was dark again — the lantern had been put out.

“W-what’s going on?” you asked sleepily, trying to sit up

“Shh, Princess,” Curtis rumbled as he slung his arm around your waist and pulled you back down. “It’s just me. Gotta keep you warm. Go back to sleep. Everything will be better in a few hours.”

“Thank you for saving me,” you slurred before letting yourself fall back to sleep.

You woke with a start, jerking so suddenly that you rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with a shout.

“Fuck!” You fought your way out of your blanket burrito and rubbed at your elbow.

“Morning, Princess.” You looked up from your inelegant sprawl to find Curtis smirking at you in the glow of sunrise. For a moment you were confused, until the memories all rushed back in with terrifying clarity. 

“Do we need to go?” you blurted out in a rush.

Curtis climbed up from the cot with long-limbed grace, his undershirt and suit trousers all creased. You looked down at yourself to discover his shirt and jacket weren’t in any better state. He crossed the room to check on the state of your dress and his socks. “We ought to wait for a bit longer, otherwise you’re going to get very cold again.” He stopped back in front of you and held out his hand. You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. However, he must have tugged harder than he meant to, because you ended up crashing into his chest, your forehead almost connecting with his chin. His arms wrapped around you to stop you from careening back over.

“Oof!”

“Careful there, Princess,” Curtis chuckled.

You took a half step back and looked at him, perplexed, although you didn’t slip his hold entirely. “You’re uncharacteristically chipper this morning? Where’s Mister Stoic and Grumpy.”

“When it’s laugh or cry, always laugh — it makes people wonder what you’re up to.” 

The amused snort came out of you unbidden. “And it’s only just gotten bad enough for you to enact that philosophy? Well, regardless, you’re a lot more fun to be around when you’re like this.”

“And you look cute wearing my clothes,” he threw back.

That comment made your head spin on your shoulders. “You think I’m cute?”

“I’m not blind or stupid, Princess.” His answer came with a soft smile.

“But you don’t like me,” you argued.

“I like you just fine. Told you that last night.”

“But you’re always mean and glaring and grumpy. And mean.” 

“Because you’re exasperating. I told you that as well.” 

“How do I exasperate you?” From where you were standing you had an excellent view of Curtis’ mouth. You’d dreamed of those pink, plush lips and what they’d be able to do to you. You had a good chance to think about it in the seconds he was formulating his reply. And then his tongue poked out and licked over his lower lip and you swore you stopped breathing.

“How are you not exasperating?” His voice was low and soft, with a new and unknown cadence to it. It sent a shudder of awareness through your body. Or maybe that was due to the fact that you were standing so close to him, half dressed in his clothes. “I know you’re intelligent, Princess. I’ve heard you argue with your father often enough to know you’re not an airhead, but for some reason that’s the image you choose to show the world. And then those outfits of yours. I’m just a man after all — I’m not made of stone.”

Your eyes darted up to his and you couldn’t help but notice how dark they’d become, despite the steadily increasing illumination from the windows. You felt heat flame your cheeks and quickly lowered them again, just to be captivated once more by his lips. “What’s wrong with my outfits?” you asked. You had more than an inkling, but for some reason you needed to hear him say it. It was though you were right on the cusp of something.

“You goddamn know there’s nothing wrong with them,” Curtis growled, “apart from how they drive me crazy — like that fucking bikini for starters.”

“Not all of my outfits are skimpy”, you replied, your voice small and tinged with embarrassment. 

“Yeah, but they fit you real well, Princess. Just yesterday morning, when you were wearing those jeans and you bent down to get that bowl from the kitchen cupboard. Thought I was gonna damn near combust.”

You scowled at him. “You shouldn’t have been looking.”

Curtis’ arms moved from their limp hold round your back and waist to take hold of your arms once more. You looked up again and the intensity you saw in his eyes was a little scary. “Have you ever tried not looking at a work of art? Known the torture of being so close to the thing you crave, but not able to touch it. You drive me to distraction, Princess, but I can’t seem to say no. You think I don’t like you, but if that were true, why would I request to be on your detail as often as possible? Why would I be grinding my teeth when I see all those rich men, young and old, ogle you like you’re just a piece of flesh to be bartered and sold? I want the one thing I can never have, so forgive me for looking less than happy most of the time.”

Your eyes grew wider with each word of his impassioned outburst, and you felt hope unfurl and bloom inside you. Your every fantasy was within your reach and at this moment you couldn’t care less about your father’s inevitable disapproval. You reached up to cup Curtis’ stubbled face and watched his eyes close as he pressed into your touch. “What if I said you can have me?”

His long eyelashes fluttered and he gave you a stricken look. “Please don’t tease me, Princess. I don’t think I could take it.”

“I’m not teasing, Curtis. I want you too. I’ve been trying to hide my feelings for you forever. It didn’t feel that difficult when I thought you despised me, but now that I know, I can’t not tell you the truth. I dream of you.” With your free arm you shook off one his hands and moved it to your waist. 

“Your father—” He started to argue, but you cut him off.

“Isn’t here. You want me. I want you. We’re both adults and we’re both sober. What my father does or doesn’t want is immaterial.”

He let out a groan and his hand tightened on your waist. “You’re sure? Because I won’t wanna stop once we start. I obviously will, if you ask — if you change your mind — but I’m asking; please don’t put me through that if this is just some joke to see how much I can take.”

“It’s not a joke,” you breathed out as you reached up onto your toes and finally pressed your lips to his.

The kiss turned from soft searing instantly, as though that one action had broken down both your defences. Curtis clutched you like a lifeline, pulling you impossibly close as his mouth moved over yours. His facial hair scratched you in just the way you’d imagined countless times and your hand fisted into his undershirt. When he lifted you, your legs wrapped around him, bringing your scantily covered core in contact with the bulge in his pants, and he let out a grunt that sent a thrill straight through you. 

Curtis spun on his heel and dipped, carefully placing you on the small cot as he knelt on the floor. He ripped his mouth from yours so he could slide his jacket from your shoulders and work on the small buttons of his shirt and you watched him with lust-filled eyes. “This is the worst outfit you’ve ever worn, Princess. Whoever recommended this look to you should be shot. Far too distracting.” You giggled at his joke and he grinned back at you, a sight that you had never thought to see. 

When his fingers fumbled the buttons again, you brushed them away and tackled them yourself. “I’d have thought you’d have been better at undoing the buttons on your own shirt,” you teased.

“In my defense, they’re currently backwards and all the blood in my body is rushing away from my brain. It’s not my fault I’ve lost my fine motor skills.” He kissed down your throat and your chest as the opening of his shirt revealed each new inch of flesh. When you finally undid the last button, Curtis swept the white fabric open and off your body. Then, he sat back on his heels and stared at you. He had such a sweet and disbelieving expression, like a child that had opened a plain looking present only to find the toy they’d been dreaming about inside. 

“You alright there, Curtis?” You pushed up onto your elbows and stretched out your left foot, placing it on his right thigh and rubbing your sole up and down his upper leg. 

“I just don’t know where to start,” he admitted. “I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times, and now it’s here, I'm frozen with indecision.”

You sat up fully, your legs bracketing his and your bare breasts hanging tantalisingly in front of his face. “You could start by touching me and then move on to kissing me? Maybe, if you play your cards right, I’ll return the favour.”

Curtis knelt up and rested his hands on your waist, his face a hair’s breadth from yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He captured your lips this time and as he did so, his hands slid up your rib cage. You moaned when his thumbs, rough with callouses, brushed over your nipples and you tried to slide your own hands up, under his vest to duplicate his touch. “Off,” you mumbled against him, and he pulled his hands, and mouth, away long enough to comply, removing the vest and also wriggling out of his wrinkled pants. 

Curtis’ hands returned to your body, roving over your skin as though he was trying to learn everything about you by touch alone. With your hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down on top of you, his hips cradled by your thighs. Now there were only two thin pieces of material separating you, and you couldn’t help but tilt your hips to rub against him.

“Princess! Oh god!” Curtis shuffled down your body and while you were momentarily frustrated by the lack of friction where you wanted it, it did mean that he could take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your own hands grasped at his head, revelling the feel of his short hair under your fingers and palms. This was better than your wildest dreams. You touched and kissed each other for what felt like millennia. It felt so good and it was difficult to imagine that anything could top it, but eventually those last two barriers were lost and Curtis’ cock was nestled between your wet folds.

“Fuck,” he muttered as his hips rocked and he coated himself in more of your arousal. You whined in response, eager for him to fuck you.

“Curtis, please!”

“I don’t — don’t have a condom,” he stuttered out.

You dug your heels into his ass and cupped his face in your hands. “Don’t care. It’s fine. You know I’ve got an implant, you took me to my doctor’s appointment three months ago, and I haven’t had a boyfriend since that dweeb Jason last year. Please! Fuck me already. I need you.”

“You’re sure?”

God, he was the sweetest, but also so very annoying. “Are you trying to exasperate me in retaliation? I’m absolutely sure. I need your cock inside me. I want you to make me come and I want to feel you come. Is that enough for you, Curtis?”

“Yes, so much.” As his tongue invaded your welcoming mouth, his hips shifted, the tip of his cock catching on your opening before he started to ease his way inside the clutch of your body. His kiss muffled your cries and whimpers and you tried to concentrate on the feeling of him within you, of him filling and stretching you. You wanted to commit every moment to memory, just in case this was the only time. You hoped it wouldn’t be, but when you both got out of this, there was no telling what would happen.

Curtis’ strokes were slow and deep — wonderfully unhurried — and he held you as close to him as possible. Your legs were crossed at the ankles in the small of his back and you had one hand on the nape of his neck and the other on his shoulder, your nails curling into his powerful muscles. The thought of marking him, claiming him as yours, was intoxicating, and sent your arousal spiralling higher. You rocked your hips in time with his movements, feeling so wonderfully in sync, like this was always meant to be. And maybe this had been inevitable; especially now you knew that the desire between you had been mutual? Despite your previous assumptions about his feelings for you, you had always been drawn to him. His grace. His quiet competency. Everything about him was magnetic.

Your orgasm, when it came, was as unhurried as everything else; cresting and crashing over you like waves on a warm beach, leaving you dizzy but still yearning for more.

 “Oh fuck! Feels so good,” Curtis muttered against your lips, and you knew that he’d been waiting, had been holding himself back, until you’d had your pleasure. You clenched down on him purposefully and listened to him moan. You couldn’t help but do it again. 

“Princess! ‘M gonna come. Can’t hold it back.”

“I want it, Curtis. Please. Come in me. I wanna feel you.”

His thrusts became uncoordinated and more frantic, and you squeezed him with your body while whispering in his ear. You’d never thought you’d be one for dishing out the dirty talk, but it definitely seemed to be working for both of you at this moment in time. 

In less than a minute, Curtis was groaning and gasping into your neck and you could feel the warmth of his cum inside you.

“Fuck, Princess!” Curtis panted out and you giggled at how completely fucked out he sounded. “Don’t laugh at me,” he groused. 

“But I’ve now decided that you’re cute when you’re grumpy.” You rubbed your palm over his short hair, and snuggled into his hold. The way his bulk covered you and pressed you down onto the bed made you feel safe.

“‘M not cute,” he argued, but you could feel his mouth smiling against your neck.

The pair of you lay in silence for a few minutes, before you let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose we ought to get going. Go and find help and get home.”

Curtis pushed himself up on his forearms and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose, before pushing away from you and standing up. “Unfortunately, I agree with you.��� He retrieved his briefs from the floor and put them back on, before passing you your panties.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything resembling a clean cloth around here?,” you asked him, realising how disgusting you felt.

“The best I can do is this,” Curtis replied as he passed you his undershirt. “Let me go and get you some water. Afraid it will be cold, though.” He dragged up his pants and pulled his shoes on, before heading back outside with the same old bowl he’d used last night. As you waited for him to come back in, you got up from the bed and started to poke around the small cabin. In a random drawer, which required a hard yank to open, you discovered some safety pins which gave you an idea. Another drawer yielded up a knife. When Curtis returned a few minutes later, he found you kneeling on the floor, the raggedy blanket from the bed lain out in front of you.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile as he watched you cut a hole from the centre of it.

“Making a poncho,” you said. “That way I will have something more than my evening dress to cover me and you can keep your jacket.” You folded the blanket in half and used the safety pins to create some side seams, leaving enough space on each side to stick your arms through.

“Aren’t you resourceful?”

You poked your tongue out at him and took hold of the bowl. In a few moments you had cleaned yourself up as best you could and pulled your underwear back on, along with your slightly damp dress and Curtis’ socks. You wrinkled your nose as the squishy feeling, but you knew it was the best that could be done. With your ‘new’ poncho pulled over your head, you were ready to set off.

You held out your hand to Curtis. “You ready to continue rescuing me?”

The skin around his eyes crinkled as he grinned at you. “Of course. I’ll always be here to look after you.”

The pair of you stepped out into the morning light and set off walking, hopefully towards help. But whatever happened next, you’d have each other.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions,

@crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic,

@scram1326, @steviebbboi, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky,

@kmc1989, @kombatfather1796 @peaches1958

[hazbinsandweirdos]

The flea took note of the information lining the walls as Striker lead him through the building to the apartment. He couldn't say he wouldn't use that himself if he needed a little extra cash but that was for later. For now, he was just some piece of meat, playing house with some rich guy. Striker didn't know what he did outside sitting pretty and that was the point.

Brows raising when the doors opened to the woman, Pierre tilted his head but smile remained none the less. "Sure, we can call it that." He agreed as he returned the hand shake. He wouldn't use so many words but he was sure she wouldn't either, if she were free to speak her mind.

"I'm sure I can pick those up in the morning? I'll also need a phone with Strikers number and the number of the PA, driver and yours. In case I need Strikers schedule for any reason." He added on, figuring if he needed the number of anyone else, it would be added as well.

He waved to the woman as he followed along after Striker to take his tour of the apartment, nodding as he looked around. He could work with this.

"You have a nice place." He piped up once they were finished looking around. Though he would deny it but he was unsettled by the bedroom being what it was. He had thought he was joking or over exaggerating but the man really kept his room like a padded cell.

"I'm sure you won't mind if I...add things to the place to feel more at home? Seeing as I will be living here, I wouldn't mind having some creature comforts." The flea started, as he moved to sit on the couch, leaning into the cushion to get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could, seemed the furniture was hardly used.

"Now, I do have some protests to some of the things you mentioned in the drive over. I work for you yes and I will be available to you when you ask me to be available but I won't need people following me around or keeping an eye on me. I have other work outside this job and I have to keep up with that outside our time together. None of my other work is anything like this though, you are the only one to have my time but I do still have to work. It's for my sanity." He tacked on the last bit more so to keep the other from trying to say that he has no need to work because of him and he wasn't looking to have Striker be his only form of income. Although Giovanni would never allow him to take all that time from work either.

"If you tell me a time and place, I will be there for you, dressed in whatever you like and doing whatever you need me to do. I will be here every night for you and the morning. I will stop in at the office and take care of you there but some days, I will have to do my other job while you're at the office." He explained gently as he patted the couch next to him to beckon the other to his side.

"It's not something you need to worry yourself with now, I will tell you when I need to work. Consider it my days off, alright?" This was a job and he expected to be able to treat it as a job. The contract was to put in place that this was an arrangement between them, nothing was stated that he would be a caged animal. He would be taking his leave, if that were the case.

"Speaking of wearing what you like, you will have to provide me something to wear for the night, since I don't have my wardrobe yet." The flea chuckled as he motioned toward his dress. It wasn't exactly sleep wear and if Striker needed him to be clothed, he had to have something on hand for him.

He'd work on collecting a wardrobe for the place tomorrow. That PA would come in handy and the driver. Seemed he'd at least be able to put them to use for the first few days. He wasn't denying the usefulness of the offered help but they were hardly necessary for him on most days. Especially, because he never dressed like this when he wasn't working. The dress was just to lure in some fool with money, who liked the way he looked and it worked every time.

"Once I'm out of this dress, you and I can curl up together and you can build a nest in my fluff for as long as you like~" The flea cooed as he reached out a hand to the other. "And nothing will pull me away, I'll take good care of you, mon chou." He purred.

Pierre happily followed the other into the car, listening as he went on about his stipulations. He had some arguments but waited until they had arrived at the apartment to worry about them.

As much as he was a live in pillow pet, he did have other obligations to take care of during the day or just when he had free time. A boss he had to keep happy outside this arrangement and the like but he would give the other the time before he worried about that.

Looking up at the building once they arrived, he smiled, having lived in something similar though it was years ago at this point. He still held a penthouse in the entertainment district of Pride but he didn't normally return to the place outside entertaining men like Striker before things became official or he had to take his leave.

Greeting the doorman with a nod as he got out of the car, he turned his attention back to the imp with a smile.

He was rather impressed with the display, the car, the penthouse. The imp had done quite well for himself. Pierre could get quite comfortable with this arrangement but he would need to make sure the other understood, he didn't need people following him around. Even if he didn't have other things going on, he still wouldn't want those things for his day to day.

"Once we have finished the tour, I hope you'll allow me to make adjustments for my comfort. As much as I am here for you, I do have certain needs for myself." He noted as he hooked his arm in the others, motioning him to lead the way to the apartment.

[teh-nos]

I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron (apart from I skipped some overly long action sequences) and I am not sure so can someone tell me whether or not Tony Stark was the baddy in that film? Because about halfway through I was sure he was but then it was maybe just an evil robot after all and I am confused because either this film was surprisingly subversive or it was about robots hitting each other.

[daisywords]

\

[nezuscribe]

you’re glad to have a friend like arranged!gojo, it feels good to have somebody to talk to and listen to. you feel nice being able to laugh with somebody and not apologize for the awful jokes or strange things you say. but sometimes you have to stop yourself from getting attached, reminding yourself that he won’t care for you like that.

and though that’s the farthest from the truth, it’s what you’ve convinced yourself. so when your birthday comes around, you decide to celebrate the way you always have, alone.

he’s your friend, not a husband, so you don’t see any need in dragging him into this ordeal.

you bake a little cake for yourself a couple day in advance, just like you used to at your old home. you stash it away for when night rolls around and it’s just yourself, you can enjoy it the way you have for years.

when you were little you would gawk and stare at the lavish parties your father and his wife threw for your sisters, the balls and the presents growing bigger and bigger the more they grew up. you’d mimic their behaviors on your own, dressing up in the best dress you had (a hand me downs from your older sister that never fit quite right) and pretended you too were surrounded by a room of people as they watched you eat cake.

and sure, when you were younger you’d feel embarrassed eating by yourself surrounded by drawings of people you’d prop up on chairs, but it’s become tradition now (not the drawings, you realize now how depressing that must’ve looked).

so the night of your birthday you take the cake you had hidden in the back of the ice den out, bringing it to the corner of the kitchens where the cooks kept the little table for themselves and began cutting into it, cursing yourself for freezing it too long.

you serve yourself a piece, hunching over your plate as you dug in with your fork, eating in silence.

you write a little note for the cooks to enjoy the rest of it as you place it back in the den once you were done, going back to your room for the night.

the following day when you were walking around the library looking for something new you spot gojo talking to one of his advisors, his eyes focused and his tilted slightly as he gave him all of his attention.

you pause, holding back until you were sure they were done with their conversation to reveal yourself from behind one of the looming bookshelves, watching as the advisor bowed his head to you before he left.

the crease between his eyebrows relaxes, his eyes softening when you waved at him, your smile gleaming.

“i didn’t see you for breakfast,” he tells you as he walks over to where you were standing, pushing some of his hair back as you grin apologetically.

“i slept in,” you admit sheepishly, tired from last night as you play with your fingers, “i also might’ve been a little snippy with alina when she tried to wake me up.”

gojo snorts, absentmindedly pulling some books out and putting them back in as he rests his side on the wall of binded pages.

“baking?” he asks simply, knowing you well enough to know that the only reason you’d miss breakfast would be because you spent the majority of the night in the kitchens.

“how’d you know?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest as he tsks, his fingers picking some stray leaves from your head from earlier when you were walking through the gardens.

“i help whisk the butter and sugar when you don’t feel like it. i don’t know why you keep me out of the kitchens,” he murmurs petulantly and you chuckle a little bit, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“it’s for your own sake,” you tell him, a glimmer in your eyes that he’d chase around the world the see, “and besides, i wasn’t baking. i was enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.”

gojo squints a little bit, confused. usually you eat what you make the night of, sometimes bringing a plate by his room if it’s not too late.

“when else did you bake this week without me?” he asks, trying to mask his hurt with a playful grin, trying to recall the times he heard back from one of his guards that you were down in the kitchens.

“only a few days ago, when i trying to assemble the cake.” you say with a shrug. his mouth opens in shock, a pout on his lips as he averts your gaze.

“you had cake? without me?” he almost whines it out and you shove his boot with the point of your shoe, trying to calm him down.

who would’ve thought the most fearsome warrior of the north, hell, the entire kingdom, would have such a sweet-tooth?

“it was small,” you try to reason, “and you wouldn’t have liked the flavors. it’s a recipe from the west.”

gojo groans, stepping closer to you as he gently flick your nose, watching the way you’d scrunch it up in annoyance.

“but you know i love cake,” he murmurs, “and you said you’d only bake it for birthdays…you lied to me,” his pink lips pull into a pout, one that you want to kiss off his gorgeous face, and control yourself from letting the heat get too much in your cheeks.

“well,” you quirk a brow, “if it helps, it was for a birthday.”

gojo looks up from the ground, brows furrowed once again in confusion.

“mine?” he says a little hopefully, as if it was anywhere near his birthday.

you snort, shaking your head as your finger pokes itself in your chest.

“mine…you idiot,” you mutter under your breath, wondering how somebody how his caliber could be so daft.

but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, in fact, his brows seem to meet in the middle, the pout gone form his lips as he frowns.

“what do you mean yours? your birthday isn’t for…? isn’t it in…?” he tries to think, think back to when your birthday was, only to realize he didn’t know, to realize he’d never asked you about it, always assuming it’d be something told to him.

“it’s nothing big,” you try to say quickly to cover up the awkwardness, “i usually just make myself a cake and get it over with.” you say with a chuckle but he’s not finding anything about this humorous.

great, you think bitterly to yourself, said something else and fucked it up. you wince, wishing you’d just stayed quite.

“your birthday was yesterday?” gojo asks, his voice hushed and heavy. he looks like he cares, he looks sad. you find it unnerving.

“i,” you laugh uncomfortably, fidgeting with your ring as you swallow thickly, “i think so...? i eyeball the day every year.”

truth be told you done really know what day you were born. your father never remembered the exact date seeing how the nature of his relationship with your mother was so secretive, and nobody ever found the true date out. so usually you find a date each year that you think matches with what time season you were born with and go with that.

gojo feels like his heart has slowed, watching the way you shrink into yourself the way he notices you’d i when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“eyeball?” he bites out and you wince at his tone, and he wishes he could take it back and start over again without the bite of a general in his words.

“look gojo it’s nothing, really,” you insist, waving him off as you try to escape, shifting around so you were closer to the doorway, “it’s just a day, it’s nothing important,” you tell him reassuringly.

but he doesn’t believe you, running a hand down his face as he pinches at the bridge of your nose.

“why do you write these things off as if they’re not important?” his voice is deep, echoing around the walls of the vast library as your hold your breath, “why don’t you-”

“because it’s not important,” you say again, your voice a little bit harsher, “it’s just a day.”

his eyes drown in blue, dark and wavering like the shoreline.

“then why bake a cake?” he snaps, not in anger but in genuine questioning, and your face falls a little.

maybe because years ago you thought it was something important. maybe because you want that little girl to feel like she matters.

he gapes, knowing he said something wrong, but can’t speak.

“i…” you open your mouth then close it again, looking away from him as you shrug, “i have to go, i - um, shoko asked for me.” you lie lamely, not caring as you bow your head down slightly to him before you briskly leave.

and maybe if you turned back you could see the way his face fell too.

but with all the maybes you’ve told yourself no to, you’ve grown accustomed to the belief that every maybe wouldn’t have a chance of becoming something.

because maybe if you had actually told him the truth when you wanted to a couple days ago, that you’d like to celebrate with him, he wouldn’t shut you down the way you’d imagined he would and maybe he would’ve said yes.

but for now you convince yourself that this man is a friend who pretends like he cares. because never once have you heard of a man caring so deeply for somebody that he’d shed a tear over the fact that you’d celebrate your birthday alone. but then again, you’ve never met a man like gojo before.

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Hit It Like Rom Pom Pom | Max Verstappen x Sargeant! Reader

Summary: Fans find it hard to believe that Max Verstappen managed to pull a DCC. Your brother, Logan, is just disgusted that it’s suddenly all over his timeline. 

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of the loss of LS2 

this is a fake reality where logan wasn’t fired before cota and he got to live his american dream of driving around fuelled by nothing but the power of the eagle 

Requested: anon 

Faceclaim: Kleine Powell 

F1 Masterlist

there wasn’t really much to go off in the ask so i hope you liked this? i basically went through all the blonde dcc, picked one i liked and went through her insta for inspo so. it doesn’t help that i’m from the uk

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yn_sarge just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, megan.mcelaney and others

yn_sarge girls gone wild 

12,003 comments

alexandrasainmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl 

→ yn_sarge miss you 

user1 we need y/n back in the garage

→ logansargeant no, we don’t. she bullies me

user2 that second pic makes me weak in the knees

alex_albon can i come play mermaids too? liked by yn_sarge

→ lilymhe you know you’re not allowed to wear the shell bra without me

user3 how is this woman single. she needs to be snapped up (by me)

→ user4 wait, she’s single? that cannot be possible

→ user5 it’s not. she’s dating max verstappen 

→ user6 just because you wish something were true doesn’t mean it is

→ user7 no way she’s dating max verstappen. him and logan don’t even talk at the track

rileywhittall my favourite sargeant

→ logansargeant back tf up

→ yn_sarge i’m our parents’ as well

user8 streets are saying she’s dating max verstappen. all he does is play on his little sim, he can’t pull her 

maxverstappen1 mijn mooie meisje

→ user9 oh. @/user5 was right 

→ user10 ‼️

yn_sarge just posted

liked by dccheerleaders, logansargeant and others 

yn_sarge game day ft. the bf only taking goofy candids of me 

19,678 comments

maxverstappen1 i can only take the goofy pics because you are goofy 

user11 we may not have her posting a pic of max but we do have a caption mention

landonorris only a pretty girl could make max attend an american football game 

→ yn_sarge actually 🤓☝️ he came because daniel wanted to watch the cowboys in action 

→ danielricciardo lando’s statement still stands. i’m a pretty girl 

user12 is it true you and max have been dating for years? 

user13 how the hell did an american pull the max verstappen 

→ user14 uh oh the f1 girlies have found her 

→ user15 we need to save her from the british 

liked by logansargeant 

user14 i find it hard to believe that she and max have been together for a while. they never feature on each other’s insta

→ user15 probably because they’re not chronically online 

→ user16 some things are more cherished when kept private 

logansargeant just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, kylekirkwood and others 

logansargeant bit late celebrating the 4th this year 🇺🇸

9,687 comments 

yn_sarge where your clothes at

yn_sarge put your nipples away

yn_sarge jump scare

→ logansargeant just because you’re dating the wdc of my sport, doesn’t mean you get to bully me. i can still kick your ass, little sis

→ yn_sarge you’re right. it doesn’t. being mom’s favourite does though 

→ daltonsargeant stop telling people you’re the favourite. i am

→ user1 love how you can tell yn is already a few cocktails deep

rileywhittall beautiful boy 

→ yn_sarge are you blind?

→ logansargeant is max?

→ maxverstappen1 not behind a wheel

user1 omg logan got a dog??

→ yn_sarge no, he's just using snowdrop for clout

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f1 just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others

f1 spending the weekend in the lone star means we get a visit from a special group of people. one lady in particular is going to have a tough weekend deciding which flag to support 

23,669 comments

kylekirkwood she is american. she dances for an american team. you don’t turn your back on america 🇺🇸🦅

victoriaverstappen we’d be more than happy to make her an honorary dutch 

daltonsargeant oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light 

lilymhe can i throw my chinese flag into the ring? 

williamsracing where’s the british flag 

logansargeant o say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave. o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

user2 oh no, what have they done 

user3 this has summoned the americans 

yn_sarge yeah, thanks for this admin. my phone is being spammed with flag emojis from literally everyone 

maxverstappen1 my girl. my garage. my flag 

→ user4 possessive max verstappen hits different 

→ user5 he can get it hot like papa john 

yn_sarge just posted

liked by haasf1team, landonorris and others 

yn_sarge arguably the best day at work. i got to meet my favourite f1 driver 

23,221 comments 

user6 this is not a drill, we have y/n in the paddock, people! 

→ user7 and dalton. it’s a whole sargeant affair 

→ user8 do you think this is because rumours have been flying that logan is being replaced after this?

→ user9 don’t remind me! they’ve come for his last race 

maxverstappen1 that’s the wrong garage, schat

danielricciardo thunder! 

→ user10 biggest fan girl. think he would win who’s the biggest y/n fan, even if his only competitor was max

→ maxverstappen1 no he wouldn’t 

kevinmagnussen i’m honoured 

→ maxverstappen1 no you’re not 

landonorris can you teach me how to shake my pom poms

→ maxverstappen1 no she can’t

user11 not the grid pulling up like ‘max can’t fight us all’ 

→ maxverstappen1 yes i can. and i will. i’ve beat them all for the past 3 years

user12 i’m just imagining max in his driver’s room staring at her comment section wigging out any time another drive comments

liked by logansargeant 

user13 her pic with charles was so funny. that man was trying his hardest to ensure no part of his body touched her in any way 

→ carlossainz55 and the photographer kept telling him to get closer 

→ charles_leclerc max was at the side glaring at me! 

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by redbullracing, gabrielbortoleto_ and others 

maxverstappen1 3 years ❤️

14,978 comments 

user1 omg we have our first sighting of max and y/n together! 

→ user2 the fact that we didn’t even see them at cota but now he’s posting her!! 

user3 our first max and y/n post!!! 

user4 the scream i scrumpt

user5 how dare he drop this midday on a random day 

→ user6 not random to them, clearly their anniversary 

user7 max saw everyone saying he wasn’t serious about his girl because he never posts them and he took it to heart 

→ user8 his comments already prove he doesn’t play when it comes to y/n

user9 max took f1’s flag taunt seriously and decided to stand on attention 

→ user10 remind everyone who she’s going home with 

logansargeant disgusting display. that colour looks terrible on you @/yn_sarge 

→ logansargeant although everything looks terrible on you

→ yn_sarge bitter party of one 

→ daltonsargeant don’t let this fool you. he was so excited when he found out one of his racing heroes would be joining the family 

yn_sarge just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon and others

yn_sarge award season is always an excuse to crack out this pic of the bad boys 

20,009 comments

user11 we’re finally getting the content we deserve 

lilymhe my gorgeous gorgeous girl 

→ alex_albon i don’t see me?

user11 no because the fact that she’s started sharing her relationship after years so people stop focusing on logan being dropped

→ user12 and max agreeing to share their relationship so people stop saying bad things about logan 🥺

→ user13 protecting their younger brother 

→ logansargeant hang on, he hasn’t married her yet. i’ve not given my permission 

→ maxverstappen1 you know you would though, broeder

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requests open

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty @justaf1girl @piastri-fvx

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ "You Can Have My Last Name" — Zaunites x GN Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: I'm pretty sure this idea is like. Everywhere by now. But people from Zaun/the Undercity don't really have surnames so plot is basically what if Reader offered up theirs. Simple and cute type stuff idk I wanted some fluff

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Viktor

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Mentioned the nature of his lack of a surname rather casually, while venting about how Piltover kept trying to say his paperwork was 'invalid' for lacking one. He explained to you that it was common for anyone in the Undercity, and that most from there didn't have one at all

ᯓᡣ𐭩 More confused than anything when you offer yours, or he at least pretends to be. The truth is the idea flustered him coming from you so casually, so to cope he acted like he didn't know what you were implying

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Thinks about it for several weeks afterwards, subconsciously mulls over how your name would sound paired with his in his mind. He writes it down a few times too, just to test it out. Finds out pretty quickly that he likes the sound of it

Vi

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Doesn't miss the implications a bit, as a matter of fact she IMMEDIATELY flirts back by asking if you'd really give your precious name to any pretty face you come across

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Teases you about the idea relentlessly any time the subject of names is brought up, or in any way she can really. Often makes jokes that she's gonna make a fool out of the name

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Secretly actually very honored that you'd offer it up to her but she doesn't feel like admitting that yet, you're gonna have to deal with jokey teasing for a good while first

Jinx

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Snarkily says she wouldn't be a good fit for your name to hide the fact that she really doesn't think she deserves to be considered a part of your life

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Ohh, you might be crazy too if you're gonna give it to someone like me"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Feels kinda bad that she wouldn't have anything like that to offer you in return. She loves the idea of having a family to belong to again, but her own self doubt gets in the way of admitting that to herself

Ekko

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Oh- uh- what??"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Genuinely very caught off guard. Not at all in a bad way, he just doesn't know how to respond to such a sudden and blatant flirt. Quickly tries to think of something to say as you're chuckling and reassuring him it's okay

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He ends up telling you through his fluster that it's not really gonna bring you any good to proudly announce a Zaunite as part of your family name. But in the end, he gives you a soft smile and says it's a nice thought he isn't against

Sevika

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Is that so?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 More keen on the idea than you'd might think- tells you it wouldn't be such a bad idea, but you'd have to prove it's a name worth adopting first, teasingly daring you to make it a name you'd both be proud to wear

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Tells you to reconsider once or twice, but mostly because she loves seeing how determined you get when defending her right to bear your name

Silco

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Doesn't pick up on what you're implying at first at all, simply tells you that isn't how that works and you're talking nonsense

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You have to prod into the implications a little more to get him to finally register what you're actually trying to say. It takes him a moment, but when he catches on he falls silent for a while

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ends up mildly tripping over his words while telling you he's not really someone to give such an important thing to, and that you should get a better head on your shoulders and keep focused (largely to hide the fact that the offer genuinely caught him off guard. He's never gonna stop thinking about it)

Vander

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Actually not against the idea. Seems to chuckle it off at first, but once he realizes you're being serious he fondly mulls over the idea with you while cleaning up for the night

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Recognizes the idea might not be very feasible, but hey, what's wrong with having hope? Everyone's allowed to have dreams to chase, right? No harm in chasing this one together, then

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Promises that once things are settled down enough that he'll try to make it happen with you. As long as the kids he takes in are all alright with you, of course

[finelinevogue]

kisses will make it better

summary - you think you’ve made aaron upset so decide not to tell him when you’ve been in a car accident

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

word count - 3k

Today was shit.

Like really terrible.

It was one of those days where nothing had gone right and you felt like the universe was caving in on you. From missing a meeting due to traffic to getting harassed by your boss again, there was nothing that had technically gone right.

Which is why you were calling Aaron on your drive home, because you knew he would make it better.

It was dangerous to rely on someone to make you feel better, but he was your person and there was no one you would rather speak to than him.

“Hotchner.”

You smiled as he always answered the phone the same way.

He said that people wasted time by looking at the caller ID rather than just answering the phone, so you were used to him never answering the phone any other way.

“Hi love.”

“Y/N?” He questioned and you had to chuckle.

“Who else would be calling you ‘love’?” You laughed.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Um,” You looked at the clock on your car dashboard, “Nearly 11PM.”

“Yeah, it is. Look, you know we’ve got a really busy case right now?” He sounded pissed off and it made your heart drop.

“Yeah, I just thought…” You gulped to swallow back the oncoming threat of tears.

You didn’t want to cry over something so trivial as making your boyfriend upset, but when you had had a day as bad as yours anything was a possible trigger. Especially when Aaron was supposed to be the person to listen and comfort you.

“So I need to sleep and I need this phone line to be open for the police detectives.”

You could hear what he wasn’t saying; ‘Don’t call me’.

“Okay.”

“Alright, bye.” And he hung up.

It felt kind of pathetic to cry, but the tears kept falling.

You sniffled as you let out a few shaky breaths. Your eyes tried concentrating on the roads but your tears were sort of blinding your sight.

Your bad day had just gotten even worse.

The one person you knew would have cheered you up had to go and let you down. It wasn’t really his fault. He did have a really big case at the moment that was really stressful, so any sleep he could get was important, but it would’ve been nice to just speak to him for a few minutes.

You pulled down the sleeve of your jumper over your hand so you could wipe away the tears from your eyes.

You were thankful to be stopped at a red light.

Leaning over into your glove compartment you picked out a packet of tissues and took one out so you could blow your nose. Crying always led to a runny nose.

Maybe you’d done something really terrible and that was why the world was taking it out on you. But what had you done?

Except for this morning, you were always on time for work. You put up with endless sexist and gross comments from your boss. You worked really long nights and early mornings just to get the work done. Working as an assistant for a CEO wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, but it paid the bills.

So why did you deserve to have such a shit day?

That’s what you were hoping Aaron could have answered.

Now you had only gone and upset him too.

The light turned green and you gripped onto the tissue as you took a hold of the steering wheel to turn left.

There were bright lights.

A car horn sounded.

Your feet slammed hard on the breaks.

There was an almighty crash.

And then it all went black.

<.><.><.>

“Miss. Miss, can you hear me?”

Your head felt so heavy and your chest felt tight.

Your eyes were slow to open, but when they finally did they felt so heavy - as if they were being weighed down.

Then you noticed the blue and red flashing lights against the pitch black of night and the paramedic that was leaning into your car to talk to you.

She had a stethoscope pressed against your chest and kept calling out to you for a response.

Slowly it was all coming back to you.

“Miss, answer if you can hear me.”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Okay good.” She said, “You were in a car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

Instead of responding you let the tears fall. Now you were coming back around and things were coming into focus you started to feel how much pain you were in. The seat belt must have stopped you from flying through the front window, but it had definitely bruised your entire chest and rib area in the process. That’s why it was probably painful to breathe.

The lady ducked back out of the car then.

“She’s pretty shaken.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. She could have internal bleeding.”

“Okay let’s cut her out and slowly transport her to an ambulance.”

“Have you asked who we should call?”

Their voices were all a blur as your eyes grew heavier again. The tears in your eyes were making your focus blurry again. It hurt to even cry.

Aaron was going to be so mad.

He was on such a busy case and the last thing he needed was to hear his girlfriend had been in a car accident - a bad one at that. You promised yourself then that you would tell the emergency response people that you didn’t have any emergency contacts. You didn’t need Aaron coming down here.

Not that you didn’t want him, because God you did, but more that you didn’t want to add any extra stress for him.

He had a hard enough job as it was without looking after you too.

He needed his rest, so you would do this alone.

<.><.><.>

Garcia was hurried as she approached Hotch’s office.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked from his desk as he watched his friend rush past.

“It’s Y/N.” She said and that’s when Morgan noticed the tears in her eyes.

Morgan shot up from his desk, as did Emily and Reid who had overheard the conversation. They didn’t ask questions, but did follow Garcia to Hotch’s office to listen in. It was clearly serious if Garcia was upset.

Garcia didn’t even knock before entering.

Hotch looked up from his desk, clearly unimpressed with the lack of knocking until he saw the looks on his team’s faces - especially Garcia’s.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked, clicking the lid on his pen.

“Sir, you know how you asked me to set up that system where if any immediate family relatives of ours were admitted to hospital then they’d flag on my system so we’d know?” She asked.

Hotch stood up immediately.

“Is Jack okay?” His heart sank.

“Yes, Sir, he is.” Garcia looked distressed still, “But Y/N was in a major car accident last night. Drunk driver hit her side of the car. Caused her car to be sent spinning across the road where it was then hit at the rear by a lorry.”

Hotch went pale. He felt like his heart had stopped beating.

“When?” Hotch picked up his phone.

No new messages.

Why had no one contacted him about this?

He was your emergency contact. He should have been notified about this.

“Accident happened last night at about 11:15. I only got the notification when I came in this morning, Sir.”

“She’s been in the hospital since 11:15 last night?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where is she now?”

“I had a look and… seems like she’s been in surgery for most of the night.”

Hotch had heard enough. He was ready to go now.

“Prentiss and Morgan. Go to the police station and find out what you can about the accident. I want that drunk driver ID’d.” Hotch ordered and they both left the room immediately.

“Call us if anything changes, Hotch.” Morgan added and Hotch nodded.

Reid…” Hotch said.

“I’m coming to the hospital with you.” Reid said for his boss.

“I need you here to work the case with Dave.”

“Hotch, this will probably be the only time I say this… but no. I’m coming with you and no doubt Rossi will too. Y/N is our friend too.” Reid argued back and Hotch didn’t have to say anything else for everyone to know that he was grateful for it.

Hotch needed the support and he knew you would need it to.

Screw this case.

Family was more important.

“Garcia…”

“I have my computers scanning security footage as we speak, Sir.”

“Good.”

“Go get our girl, Sir.” Garcia said and Hotch wasted no more time before exiting his office.

<.><.><.>

“You can’t blame yourself, Aaron.” Dave said as he drove the car to the hospital.

Aaron had wanted to drive but Dave had disagreed. It would’ve been dangerous for him to drive at a time like this.

“I spoke to her 15 minutes before the accident, Dave.” Aaron said, his composure slowly breaking.

Dave didn’t add anything to the conversation because he knew this was Aaron’s way of opening up as to why he felt so guilty.

“I told her not to call because my phone needed to be open for the police detectives to call me.”

“You were sleep deprived Aaron.” Dave argued.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“Maybe not, but it was the truth.”

Aaron kept his gaze on the road in front of them.

This car journey had felt like the longest twenty minutes of his life. Then he thought about how long you must have been alone in your crumpled car until someone arrived - how long that must have felt. How scary that must have been.

“I can’t lose her too.” Aaron said.

“You won’t. She’s got a strength in her that not everyone does.”

Aaron wanted to smile at that because he knew it was true, but it was hard to smile when he didn’t have a clue what state he was about to find you in.

<.><.><.>

Aaron stormed into the ER.

He did a quick sweep of the room and walked to the front desk. His hands gripped the front desk like it was the only thing keeping him standing up.

“Y/N L/N.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“I’m here to see Y/N L/N. She was brought in late last night from a car accident.” Hotch explained.

“Let me see.” The nurse typed away on her computer.

Rossi and Reid came up behind Aaron as they also waited to hear what the nurse had to say.

Aaron’s team was like a family to him, which meant they were also a family to you. The team had taken a liking to you ever since they had seen how much you had positively impacted Aaron’s life. They had never seen him smile so much as when he was around you. You brought out the best in him and the thought of losing you meant losing their boss too.

“Are you Aaron Hotchner, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“Yes.”

The nurse smiled sympathetically, “Miss L/N specifically told the doctors last night that we weren’t to contact you.”

“W-what?” Aaron furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m her emergency contact.”

“We’re aware, Mr Hotchner.”

“S-so what?” Aaron tried to calm himself down because he knew it wasn’t the nurses fault, “That’s it?...”

“Miss L/N told us not to contact you, Mr Hotchner, so we didn’t. However, now you are here I don’t see any reason to hold you back any further. Just sign this ‘sign in’ sheet, please.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said honestly, feeling both a wave of relief and anxiety.

Why had you told them not to call him?

Well, he knew why…

It was starting to feel like this was his fault. Doubts creeping into his mind as to whether he was the right person for you. It felt like no matter what he did, no matter how happy he became, he would always be tested in some way.

<.><.><.>

Reid and Rossi had gone to buy you flowers, leaving Aaron in the room alone with you.

It had been a shock to see you at first.

He hadn’t really prepared himself for how you might look, but he definitely hadn’t expected this.

You were bandaged like a mummy. Your head had a thick bandage wrapped around. Your hands were littered with plasters and gauze from where tiny bits of shattered glass had cut into your skin. He couldn’t see your chest but he had no doubts that the entire area would be black and bruised.

It made Aaron feel sick seeing you like this.

<.><.><.>

When you finally came around you felt lighter than you had before.

There was no seat belt cutting into your skin and you could breathe a little easier too. The bed you were laid in was really comfortable and someone had clearly dimmed the lights in preparation for you waking up.

Your eyes opened to find yourself in a hospital room.

The small window to the right told you it was a new day because it had been nighttime the last time you had seen the sky. Whether it was the next day or a couple of days was difficult to guess.

You looked down from the window to the small table.

There were six bunches of flowers of all different varieties. All of them had cards underneath them and you were eager to know who they were from.

The one that had a mathematical joke on had to be from Reid. The one that was covered in pink glitter was definitely from Garcia. The one that was clearly handmade had to be the work of Jack Hotchner. That one made you smile.

Your eyes went to the other side of the room where there was a chair facing your bed.

It was empty.

You knew who had been there, though, thanks to the blazer and red tie draped over the back of it.

Just as you started thinking about Aaron, you could hear your two favourite boys approaching.

“But I want to give the giraffe to her now, dad.”

“Ssh, ssh. We have to be quiet now bud, okay? Y/Ns sleeping.”

“But she’s been sleeping all day.”

“That’s because she’s poorly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Aaron and Jack entered the room a moment later, leaving the door open.

“Y/N!” Jack screamed in excitement when he saw that you were awake. He shuffled himself out of his dad’s hold until he was on the floor and running over to your bedside.

Aaron was ready to tell Jack off until he saw that you were in fact awake.

“Jack, careful.” Aaron said when his son started climbing on the bed.

“He’s okay.” You assured them both.

“Dad said you’re poorly.” Jack said.

“I guess I am.” You smiled at him.

“Does this hurt?” He pointed to the bandage on your forehead.

“A little.”

“Dad can kiss it better.” Jack explained like he was the certified doctor working in this hospital. It made you and Aaron laugh, which was probably the best form of medicine anyways. “Won’t you dad?”

Instead of giving a yes or a no response, Aaron came over to you and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. You couldn’t feel his lips, but his presence was enough to make you a little bit emotional.

He smelt like home and his closeness was so warm that you felt comforted.

Aaron kept his face close to yours as pulled away. He looked at you and noticed your teary eyes. His thumb reached your cheek to softly pad over the skin there - no doubt to check that you were really here and okay.

“Hey Jack, why don’t we go and get a chocolate bar for Y/N, hmm?” You heard Rossi’s voice behind Aaron.

Neither you or Aaron made a move from each other to check. Rossi must have taken Jack from the room because it went so quiet then.

Aaron kept his gaze on your eyes and you could see the sadness lost within them.

You hated to see him so sad. It was your weakness.

“I’m…”

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to be really upset.” Aaron said quickly to cut you off.

You nodded, crying a bit more now.

“Thank you for coming.” You said instead.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’ll always be here.” Aaron moved to perch on the bed beside you, careful not to bump into any sore part of you.

“How did you even know?”

“Garcia.”

“Of course” You smiled. Aaron smiled because you smiled.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being an asshole last night.”

“Aaron, love, I can see that you’re beating yourself up over this but it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you were kind of an asshole. I did need you last night, but you definitely didn’t cause this and I know you know that.”

“You’re too lovely.” He responded.

“I just won’t have you blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Aaron nodded, “I’ll never not answer the phone again.”

“Okay.”

“But you have to promise to never block me as an emergency contact again. You hear me?” He said sternly.

“I do. It was kind of stupid of me.” You rolled your eyes thinking back now.

“Yeah it was.” Aaron gave you a small smirk, glad to hear you were okay enough to make a joke or two.

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Honey. I’m going to worry whether or not you are actually okay.”

“When I told the nurse to not call you she asked whether you were a crazy ex of mine.” You chuckled.

“You’re an absolute menace.”

“A menace that’s going to need lots of kisses to nurse me back to health.”

“Oh yeah?”

“That’s what Dr Jack said.” You shrugged.

“I better get started then.”

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.