#but somehow having to skip it actually adds something

[hes-a-tough-kid]

If you see the final word count for my completed fic gently increasing over months and months no you dont

[solxamber]

One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader

You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;

1k masterlist ; Prologue

You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”

And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.

“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”

You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”

“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.

When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.

"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"

He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”

“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.

Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”

And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.

You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”

“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.

At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.

“C’mon, try it.”

He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”

“Exactly. Now open up.”

With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”

But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.

As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.

“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.

You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.

When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”

He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”

When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”

“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.

Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”

He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.

When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”

He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”

He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”

Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”

“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”

When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.

“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.

He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”

As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.

You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.

“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”

Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”

“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”

He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”

“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”

And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.

You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.

“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.

By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.

“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.

“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”

Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.

You blink. Then blink again.

It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.

“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”

He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”

“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.

You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”

“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”

You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”

Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”

Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”

And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.

The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.

“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”

Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.

“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”

Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.

Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”

Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.

Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.

“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”

Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”

“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”

Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.

By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.

It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.

“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”

“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.

The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.

“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.

Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”

Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.

When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.

“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.

Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.

“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”

You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”

But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”

You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”

Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”

“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”

Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.

You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.

So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.

"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.

“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”

"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"

Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.

The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”

You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.

You: Cornered. Help.

The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.

"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.

All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.

He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”

The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.

"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.

Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.

"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."

The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”

Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"

They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.

One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.

“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”

The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.

Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.

“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.

Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.

“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Like you’re impressed.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”

Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."

That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.

You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”

He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”

You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.

And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.

The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.

You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?

Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.

He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.

You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.

Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”

You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.

Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."

You blink as he pulls the paper closer.

"Leona, what are you—"

"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.

You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.

"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."

"Easy for you, maybe."

“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.

You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."

Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”

And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.

You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."

He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”

You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.

For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.

You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."

"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.

The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.

And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.

It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.

But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.

“Hey, Leona?”

He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.

You clear your throat. “What are we?”

Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”

You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”

He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”

Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.

“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.

You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”

He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”

“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”

Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”

Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.

Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.

“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”

You nod, holding your breath.

“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”

Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.

Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.

“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.

“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.

You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.

When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.

And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.

Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”

Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”

You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"

He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”

Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”

Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.

Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.

Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.

“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”

Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”

You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”

Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”

Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”

“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”

You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”

Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”

Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.

“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”

His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”

You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.

“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”

You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”

You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”

He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”

And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.

The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.

“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.

“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”

“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”

“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”

“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”

Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”

Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”

“You’re definitely telling him.”

“No, you tell him!”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”

Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”

Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”

“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”

“It was allergy season!”

“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”

Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”

“Gee, thanks, Grim.”

Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.

“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”

Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.

“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.

“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”

You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”

“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.

Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”

“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.

“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.

Because deep down, you know something they don’t.

Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.

You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.

Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.

1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist

i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here

[keferon]

Mecha headquarters is attacked. The building collapses. Blurr goes in and doesn't come back out. And Swindle's the one that's got to deal with the fallout. As far as nightmare scenarios go, this is pretty high up on Swindle's list.

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

Swindle only pulls his phone out of his pocket when he reaches the shadows off to the side of where rescue crews are digging through the rubble of mecha headquarters.  Digging they only started because Blurr, the face of mecha, went into that building and didn't come out.  Digging they are only continuing because they believe they've found signs of life buried in the rock.  Which is why Swindle's phone has been buzzing nonstop for the past several minutes.

He looks at the names next to the missed calls.  Shockwave.  Shockwave again.  Pharma.  Unknown number. (Shockwave?)….  The list goes on.

Swindle doesn't know how Shockwave or Pharma knows already, but they must.  Swindle's first call since Blurr disappeared under that ton of rubble had been to emergency services.  Every call since has been to call in favors, pull strings – exert as much influence as he can to keep the details of what's going on out of the news.  To keep the potential damage this could do to a minimum.

Somehow, it hasn't been enough.  Which means this situation is fast heading towards something more than what Swindle can handle on his own.

Swindle pulls a second phone from his pocket and hits the number on speed dial.

"Hello?" A voice answers within one ring of Swindle dialing.  Onslaught.  He relaxes slightly.

"You watching the news?"  Swindle skips over customary greetings, security measures – there's no time for them now.  He knows it is Onslaught on the other end of the line.  Onslaught will recognize it is him by his voice.  That much, they still have to be able to trust.

What exactly will be on the news, Swindle doesn't know.  But, it's a safe bet that at least some of the basics of the mecha attack will be broadcast.  Beyond that, it all depends on how much Swindle's contacts came through.

"Yeah.  Mecha was attacked.  They're saying no casualties, so why are you calling me?"  Onslaught asks.

"That's all they're saying?" Swindle asks in return. "No casualties?"

"That's all.  No casualties," Onslaught confirms.  "Showed some footage of the fighting.  Pretty standard stuff.  Cut in some impressive footage of Blurr's mech.  What's going on? Not that I'm not glad to hear personal confirmation you're not dead, but this line is for emergencies."

"There is one.  Shockwave."  Swindle says the name as though there's no further justification needed for why he's calling on this line.  And really, there isn't.  They had agreed to that from the start of this venture.  "He's been calling me.  Non-stop."

Swindle thinks he hears a soft curse on the other end of the line then, "Why would he care?  What's his interest?"

"Blurr," Swindle says.  "That footage, of his mech – was the actual fight.  A fight he never should have been in.  But he did it anyways because there was no other option.  He went into the building and he never came out.  He's the reason they're still here digging – the reason I'm still here."

"And the reason Shockwave's calling," Onslaught fills in.

"Yes.  Him.  And Pharma." Swindle adds.

"Pharma is a medic, you know.  With ratchet going more or less of the grid and First Aid and Ambulon tied up with Vortex he's the highest ranked medic in mecha.  It would be his job to supervise pilot injuries."  Swindle can tell even over the line that Onslaught doesn't really believe his own words.  But they need to make sure they've covered everything if they're going to stay ahead of this.

"He shouldn't know though.  I called in favors to delay the news of Blurr's status until after excavation is complete and you said yourself the news only confirmed no casualties yet," Swindle points out. "I've sent no internal communications.  Pharma shouldn't know yet.  He's too close to Shockwave.  Neither of them should know.  But they've both been calling since the collapse – within minutes of each other."

Swindle definitely hears Onslaught swear at that.  "I don't know exactly what the connection is between Shockwave and Pharma – but I don't want Pharma – or Shockwave – anywhere near this, anywhere near Blurr," he finishes.

"Blurr's alive?"  The question is stated matter-of-factly, though Swindle wouldn't have blamed Onslaught for expressing a note of skepticism.  If the man is still alive, there's no way he's walking away from this without serious injuries.  Swindle would bet every dollar in his accounts on it.

"Possibly.  There are signs of life under the rubble.  We paid Blurr to be the part of a hero for the media.  Turns out when it mattered it wasn't entirely an act.  He saved a lot of lives today – including mine."  If Blurr is pulled from that rubble alive, Swindle will give every dollar it takes from his bank account to ensure it stays that way.  They need Blurr.  More than he knows.

"I never told Blurr the truth behind why it was so important that mecha hire him," Swindle's voice drops as he says the words.

"I am not repaying what he did today by letting him find out firsthand whatever it is Shockwave does in those labs of his.  We're not going to sit back and watch the creation of another Vortex.  It was bad enough when we didn't know.  Now…. Right now, I need you to distract Shockwave and Pharma."

"How long do you need?" As Swindle had at the beginning of their call, Onslaught skips the unnecessary validation and asks the question that gets at the point.  It has Swindle breathing a sigh of relief.

"A few hours, minimum.  But I'll take anything you can give me, just stall them as long as you can.  I've got to go."  Swindle hangs up without waiting for Onslaught's reply.  A stretcher is being carried out of the ruins towards a waiting helicopter.

Swindle manages to make it onboard just before take-off.  He rides all the way to the hospital with Blurr.  Handles all the forms.  Tells the receptionists to put the bills on his card.  He knows (hopes) Blurr could do it when the time came (the man certain has the money; Swindle's been writing his checks) – but he shouldn't have to.  All Blurr should have to focus on is his recovery, and what comes next.  Blurr should have friends, family, a partner – someone to support him in this. 

Swindle knows – has known since early on in working with Blurr – that that is not the case.  He's observed enough to see that Blurr asks for help if he truly needs it, but no one just offers it to him.  Because no one knows to.  In this case, Blurr cannot ask, so Swindle manages instead.

In an ideal world, someone would stay by Blurr's hospital bed, simply so the man didn't have to wake up alone in unfamiliar surroundings with no explanations.  But this is not an ideal world.  And Swindle is not that person.  His time runs out long before then. 

Fresh blood has been spilled.  The predators are circling.  Swindle has a show to put on.  The best he can do is leave his card on the bedside table as a reminder and hope Blurr actually calls if he needs anything. 

I. LOVE THIS. SO FUCKING MUCH YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE

Absolutely in love with this conspiracy thing Onslaught and Swindle have going on. Because YES. OF COURSE. Gosh this is why I love Combaticons. They’re on their own side. Whatever system they are forced to be part of - it doesn’t have full control on them. They’re doing their own thing ehehehehhehe

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Play D&D

As requested by @cool-original-username :)

Somehow, Dungeons & Dragons, the role-playing game, has arrived in the Cosmere, and now everyone is playing it. What would that be like?

1. Kaladin: Has THE most ridiculous good luck with dice

DM: Okay, Kaladin. You're up. You're the only member of your party still conscious, and you only have 3 hit points left. DM: Lord Evil is about to activate the doomsday device that will level the capital city. Your weapon is broken, and you're barely conscious. What will you do? Kaladin: ...I want to pick up a rock and throw it into the gears of the machine. DM: ...The machine that is 60 feet away from you with a fist-sized opening? Kaladin: Yes. DM: Well...you can roll for it, but...you'll have disadvantage... Kaladin: Nat 20. Twice. DM: A-Again?! I swear you save your Nat 20s for the most dramatic possible moments! Kaladin: Dice love me.

2. Kelsier: Always tries to fast-talk the DM

Kelsier: I would like to pick up the crowbar with my mage hand. DM: Okay... Kelsier: And I would like to drop it on the bandit's head. DM: You can't attack with mage hand. Kelsier: Attacking? I'm not attacking. I'm just dropping something. DM: As an attack. Kelsier: Well, okay. I'll just lift the crowbar high above the bandit's head with my mage hand. That's not an attack. DM: Okay... Kelsier: Then I'm gonna dismiss mage hand. DM: ... Kelsier: What happens to the crowbar? Does it...drop? DM: ... Kelsier: [smiles sweetly]

2. Lift: Needs a DM who likes open world campaigns...or who knows Lift real well

Wyndle, the DM: Excellent job, mistress! You've rescued the prince, and received a Royal Feast as a reward. Wyndle, the DM: What will you do now? Lift: I wanna go to Beach Town. Wyndle: Beach Town, the name I came up with on the fly five sessions ago? Lift: Yeah. Wyndle: The place where that one mean messenger said he was headed next? Lift: The one who kicked that dog, yeah. Wyndle: [grabs a notebook from his box and flips it open] Wyndle: Ready! Lift: ... Lift: You knew? Wyndle: I had a hunch, mistress!

3. Steris: Is a rules lawyer...for good

Steris: As we move through canyon, Lady Stesir will keep track of our progress by sketching a map. DM: Sure! Why don't you roll me an Intelligence check to see how good your mapping is. Steris: Actually, per the Players Handbook pg. 185, no ability check is required for mapping the party's progress through an area. DM: Really? Okay! Steris: [whispering] I got your back, Lady Stesir.

4. Blushweaver: Keeps rolling to seduce everyone

DM: The dragon rears back, preparing to unleash its fiery breath! Blushweaver: I roll to seduce the dragon!! DM: ... DM: Look, dragons are sentient, but they're generally not interested in... Blushweaver: I roll Persuasion with Expertise, add my Proficiency Modifier and my Charisma Modifier, plus my bonuses from Bless and Bardic Inspiration...and I get 32! DM: ... Blushweaver: I'm so excited about my new dragon boyfriend!

5. Shallan: Cares a LOT about character creation

Shallan: [sitting at the table with a full stack of character drawings, having used lightweaving to turn herself into a full-on Orc Barbarian] Adolin: [wearing "a bit of a jaunty hat" for his bard character] Adolin: ...I've never felt underdressed before.

6. Wayne: Loves to role-play

Wayne: And as Lord Bandlebutt falls to his knees in the rain, he thinks back to the last time he saw that flower, when his adoptive fox parents turned back for the last time before disappearing forever into those woods... Wayne: "I should have said something back then," Lord Bandlebutt whispers, "I should have told them some rocks smoothed by the stream wish they could have remained rough." Wayne: "After what happened during the Seven Snake Festival, they would have understood..." DM: [openly weeping] Oh, Lord Bandlebutt! Wayne: [normal voice, also weeping] I know, I know!

7. Vin: Wishes they could skip the whole "role-play" part

Vin: Okay, so my damage for that attack is 13. DM: With a mighty thrust of your longsword, you chop of the doppleganger's head and it falls to the ground! DM: You just killed someone who looks exactly like you--you're watching your own head roll across the ground toward your feet. DM: How does Lady Silverteeth feel in this moment? Vin: Uh Vin: ...Bad? DM: [Remembering to always match the player's level of comfort with role playing] Yeah, I bet she does.

8. Painter: Has THE most ridiculous bad luck with dice

DM: You see the vampire in the street below. You think she's following someone...perhaps her next victim. Painter: My Assassin will jump down from above and Sneak Attack her! I get a Advantage since it's my first attack, plus I have my new +2 dagger! Painter: My cloak will sweep back behind me as I land, soft as the night air, and plunge my dagger into her heart! DM: Roll first. Painter: Hi-yah! [dice clatter] DM: ... Painter: ... Painter: I assume I miss entirely and fall onto my butt? Into a puddle? DM: Into a puddle, yeah. Painter: ...Every [lowly] time.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

just a good brother

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stepbro!rafe, stepcest, dubcon/noncon, drugging, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, somnophilia, manipulation? i guess, reader is sick with like a cold or somethin

“what's wrong kid?” rafe asks, running a hand over your hair, pushing it out of your face as you keep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch.

“sick.” you mutter, keeping your arms wrapped around your stomach, as if that could somehow make you feel better.

rafe frowns. he hates seeing you feeling down, and it's his responsibility as your step brother to make sure you are taken care of.

“what can i do for you?” rafe asks, his voice unbelievably soft. he kneels down in front of the couch so he can look you in the eye, scanning over your face, looking tired with a sheen of sweat over your skin. “did you take some medicine?”

“i did, and i still feel like crap.” you groan.

“want me to make you some soup?” rafe questions. he doesn't really know what to do to make you feel better, so he's resulting to movie stereotypes. he figures it's better than doing nothing. “or some cuddles?”

“ill take some cuddles.” you say. you really do think rafes arms wrapped around you would make you feel better. it's not weird after all, he's your step brother.

rafe nods, and you pick yourself up briefly to scooch to make room for rafe on the couch. he joins you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you move to rest your cheek against his chest.

“i got ya, sis.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your back in long comforting strokes.

“thanks rafey.” you sigh, eyes closing. your headache has subsided a little from the medicine, causing you to relax enough to fall into a light sleep.

you are awoken by sarah bounding out the door, shouting something about john b. 

“shh, it's okay.” rafe says when you whine, but you need to stretch your tired muscles anyways, shaking out the one arm that got trapped and fell asleep during your short nap.

“ugh, i just feel gross.” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“would a bath help maybe?” rafe questions.

“actually yeah.” you hum, thinking about being submerged in the warm water. you think you even have some epsom salt you could add to draw out some of the toxins.

“let me help you then.” rafe says. he stands up, only to swoop down and bring you into his arms, walking with ease as he heads towards the stairs. you would complain that you can walk yourself, but you're honestly not sure if you can, do you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders and let him take you all the way to his bathroom. you don't mention that your own bathroom has a jacuzzi tub as well.

“are you good to sit right here?” rafe asks as he places you on the counter.

“yeah.” you nod, leaning your head back against the mirror, watching as rafe turns the hot water on to fill up the bath before coming back over to you

“want me to help you get undressed?” rafe questions.

“wouldn't that be weird?” you raise an eyebrow. “you seeing me naked?”

“not at all. im your step brother, and im just helping you because you're sick.” rafe says, and you're not sure if it's the sickness, or the foggy mind from the medicine that makes you nod your head yes, accepting his help.

rafe assists you in standing, his hands firm in yours as you slide off the sink counter, the tub filling with water drowning out the sound of rustling clothes as rafe takes your shirt, dragging it over your head. he skips over your bra and moves to your shorts next, kneeling as he slides them down your legs. he also carefully takes your socks off before tugging at your underwear. you cringe when they stick to the slickness between your thighs, but rafe doesn't mention anything.

he stands slowly, his eyes taking in between your thighs, wondering what you, his precious little step sister, would look like with your legs spread wide open, cunt on display for him.

rafe stands in front of you while he reaches behind your back, unclipping your bra. the fever that has taken over your body is replaced with shivers as your breasts are exposed to the cool air, your nipples instantly hardening.

rafe looks down with a smirk, and you want to cover yourself, hide your shame away, but before you can move, he turns his head and looks at the bath.

“it's full.” he hums, moving to shut the water off before turning to you, beckoning you forward with his hand. you take hold, letting him bear part of your weight as you step in, the water being just on the verge of too hot.

you let out a low moan when you step the other foot in, already feeling better.

“go ahead, baby. all the way in.” rafe says, using a nickname for you that you haven't heard before. you slide down into the bath, glad that it can easily submerge your whole body as rafe drags a stool next to the lip of the tub, taking a seat next to you.

“gotta keep an eye on you just in case.” rafe says, again reaching to stroke your hair back.

“you're such a good big brother.” you tell him honestly. you feel so lucky that your mom married ward, that she brought you into this family, to rafe.

“always gonna take care of you.” rafe says, as a promise.

you lean forward, not sure what your intentions are as you pucker your lips, pressing them against his hand that rests on his knee.

“come here.” rafe coos, knowing you need this, need to show him some kind of affection as thanks, and how much you like physical touch. rafe cups your jaw, tilting your face up as he brings his own head down, letting you press kisses over his cheeks.

rafe goes to connect your lips, but you gasp and pull away.

“it's okay for siblings to kiss each other.” rafe says with a frown.

“but i don't want to get you sick.” you complain, even though you desperately want to smash your lips against his. you don't dwell too long on the thought or what it could mean.

rafe sighs, but nods, letting go of your face and letting you lean back against the tub. your eyes close as the water relaxes you.

rafe sits there quietly, but the silence isn't uncomfortable.

“baby, are you good here for a minute? gonna get you some medicine.”

“yeah.” you sit up slightly, eyes opening as you watch rafe leave the bathroom. the water in the tub has grown lukewarm at this point, so when rafe returns with a plastic cup filled with some sort of medicine, you tell him you want to get out.

“here, drink this then i will help you dry off.” rafe says when he has you wrapped in the fluffiest towel. 

you accept the cup, swirling the purple liquid before shrugging and drinking it down in one gulp, surprised by the sugary sweet taste.

“good girl.” rafe says, making a surprising flood of wetness rush to your core. 

he leads you out of the attached bathroom into his bedroom, guiding you to sit down on the bed. he takes a second towel and carefully dries your hair, squeezing strands free of water before running his fingers through, making sure your hair remains untangled.

rafe then moves to your arms, not letting you do any work yourself as he guides the towel up and down your arms until they're completely dry.

“why don't you lay back?” rafe questions, and you nod, wanting to lay down anyways as the new medicine makes your limbs feel sluggish. you guess that there was some kind of sleep aid in the medicine as well, but it could also be the effects of the sickness hitting you again.

you let rafe take your towel away before you lay back on the bed, on top of his comforter as he pats your stomach until it's dry. your eyes flutter closed when he moves upwards, able to feel his hands through the fabric of the towel as he dries your chest, seeming to pay special attention to your nipples.

“rafe, i-” you begin, wanting to apologize for how hard your nipples have pebbled but he just shakes his head.

“you don't need to explain, sis.” rafe simply says. “it's natural.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're really not sure, and rafe is your big brother after all, so he has no reason to lie to you. rafe moves lower yet again, bypassing your stomach and privates as he wipes dry your feet, lower legs, and then your thighs.

“spread your legs for me.” rafe commands. he says it so casually you almost do it before you realize that your sloppy cunt would be revealed to him.

you sit up, moving your elbows so you can look at rafe, staring expectantly at you.

“rafe, i don't know-” 

“we are siblings.” he cuts you off again. “it's okay.”

you lay back, closing your eyes, not wanting to see rafes reaction when you spread your legs, revealing your wetness. you miss rafes smirk as he covers his hand with the towel, making sure to move very gently as he works it between your legs, stroking the fabric over your cunt.

you let out a low moan when your clit is bumped, causing a whole new flood of wetness.

“i can't seem to get this spot dry…” rafe says, tossing the towel onto the bed, needing to feel your bare skin. he strokes over your folds, not doing anything more than touching around your cunt until he can't take it anymore, letting his finger swipe through your wetness.

“rafe, stop.” you pout, eyes now clenched tightly closed.

“it's okay.” rafe just hums in response, too transfixed on your pretty pussy to take your plea into account, especially when you spread your legs wider, giving him more access.

rafe smiles as his finger pushes further against your skin, now rubbing through your wetness, spreading it around your cunt. he moves his singular digit up to your clit, moving in circles around it teasingly until he presses his fingertip down directly over your clit, making your back arch as you let out a moan.

“how do you feel now?” rafe questions as his finger continues to massage your clit.

you assess your body, and you're not sure if it's from the medicine or from rafes attention on your pussy, but he only feeling you can focus on is coming from his fingertip, instead of your hurting stomach.

��really good.” you whisper. you should be concerned about what you're doing right now, but you're so glad to be alleviated from feeling sick that you can't bring yourself to care about rafe stroking over your clit.

“want me to keep making you feel good?” rafe questions.

you nod before you can hesitate. rafe climbs onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs. you blink your eyes open when his hands rub over your inner thighs.

“it's okay.” rafe assures you again. “just a brother taking care of his sick sister.”

“okay.” you whisper. “it's okay.”

rafe smiles before diving in, burying his mouth in your cunt. he possessively licks over your pussy, like he's been waiting since your mom married his dad two years ago to get a taste of you. 

he sucks your clit into his mouth, bringing his fingers to your entrance. he pushes a singular digit in, glad when you stay relaxed, allowing him to pump his finger into you. he's sure it's a combination of the exhaustion of your sickness as well as the medicine he gave you.

rafe switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it while his finger works you open. he can quickly add a second due to your pliability and wetness.

“rafe, i feel something-” you gasp, his fingers moving faster.

“you're gonna cum for me?” he questions. he knows you're not the most innocent, he's seen you making out quite intensely with your ex boyfriend, but he also knows that you're still a virgin. you claim you want to wait until marriage.

“i-i don't know. i think so.” you whine, hips undulating.

“it's okay, relax for me baby and cum.” rafe says, his tongue taking in your taste again, licking long stripes through your cunt, making sure to flick over your clit with every movement.

you let out a mix between a whine and a moan as his tongue and fingers becomes too much, pulling the orgasm out of you as you cum, your high pushing through your body as your legs tighten around rafes head.

rafe gently kisses your cunt through the orgasm until your thighs loosen and your eyes fall closed.

“im tired.” you whisper, not sure what rafe is doing when you feel him get off the bed, and rustle around. you don't open your eyes until he's back on the bed between your legs.

“rafe!” you shout when you realize he is kneeling between your legs, now completely naked, his cock hard and jutting away from his body, one hand at the base, slightly stroking as he looks down on your naked body.

“it's okay.” he says again, hoping that repeating it will make you believe it.

“what are you doing?” you question.

“you said you wanted to feel good, im just helping you sis.” rafe says, now stroking faster, taking up more of his shaft.

“no, no, no.” you mumble quickly. “you're my brother!”

“im your step brother.” rafe snips quickly.

“still! im supposed to be waiting until marriage! for my husband!” despite your protests, you can't bring your body to move, completely slackened against the bed.

“it doesn't count if its family.” rafe says. “besides, ive been taking such good care of you. let me keep taking care of you, and you can take care of me too.”.

“i guess…” you mumble, eyes taking in his big cock. you want to know what it feels like inside of you, and rafe grants your wish when he drapes his body over yours, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“id say stay nice and relaxed for me, but the medicine is doing it's job.” rafe says, burying his head in your shoulder as he pushes inside, filling your cunt in one smooth and easy pump.

you let out a moan, wanting to wrap your legs around rafes waist to help the angle, but your legs feel like jelly.

“that's it, sis.” rafe moans, immediately snapping his hips into yours, not bothering to start softly.

rafe keeps one hand gripping your hip while the other moves to your chest, gripping your tit harshly, but you're too numb to complain about the pain.

“more.” you whisper into rafes ear.

“dirty slut.” rafe says back. “who knew my step sis would be such a whore for her brothers cock?”

you let out a whine of complaints, but rafe begins to move faster, push deeper into you. you wish you could keep your eyes open, to look at rafe like this, but tiredness is taking over, even as he pumps into you.

“can't- can't help it.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained as he continues thrusting. “gonna cum inside of you.”

this wakes you up slightly, squirming underneath him. “you can't, rafe! im not on birth control and you're my brother!”

“say it again.” rafe grunts.

“you're my brother!” you shout again, but instead of rafe pulling out, he floods your cunt with his cum, spurting long ropes inside of you.

you squirm again, but rafe just moans when your pussy constricts around him, having the opposite effect as you milk his cock.

“im sorry sis.” rafe says. you try to push him off, but thats when you realize that it's more than just tiredness taking over your body. you're completely limp, unable to move or lift your hand.

“what did you do?” you ask, words slurring.

“ill take care of you. ill take care of everything.” rafe promises, grinding his hips when his cock begins to reharden inside of you.

you try to open your mouth, but your vision goes completely black, your jaw slackening. you pass out with the feeling of rafe beginning to move inside of you again, his cock pushing the cum further into your cervix.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

[writesvani]

coming down | 05

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to- enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): alcohol use, vomiting, intoxication, emotional manipulation, jealousy, unspoken tension, toxic relationships, self-doubt, unrequited love, discomfort, arguments, heated exchanges, unresolved sexual tension, drug use, self-destructive behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, physical discomfort, past trauma references, explicit language

comment HERE for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 7,2k // date: 20th of March 2025

CHAPTER FIVE - House of Balloons; proceed with caution...

AN (IMPORTANT, PLEASE DON'T SKIP):

hey gummies, it’s vani.

before you dive into ch 5, we need to have a little heart-to-heart: so, my taglist is growing like weed, but y’all are as silent as a library at midnight. how do i know you’re reading if no one’s making noise? comment, like, reblog, send me a carrier pigeon, give me your opinions on my writing, my characters, your life, your dog—just talk to me. seriously—just DO SOMETHING.

here’s the deal: next chapter drops ONLY AFTER we hit 150 kudos. yes, 150. i know some of you will cry about it, but honestly, 150 is my average kudo count. so no excuses. this is a public reaction test, okay? i laughed 70 times writing this chapter and i expect the same energy from you.

let’s see how many people are actually reading. hit 150 and chapter 6 will be here faster than a pizza delivery at 3 am. go wild.

love, vani

It feels natural talking to Geto, like slipping into a familiar rhythm you didn’t realize you missed. There’s an effortless flow between you, a quiet understanding laced into every exchanged glance, every syllable that leaves his lips like a slow-burning shot you can’t help but take. His eyes are heavy-lidded, tinged with a lazy rosiness, half-lost in the moment.

He’s perched on the edge of Aiko’s bed, shoulders hunched forward, his presence somehow both relaxed and consuming. He insisted on escaping the overcrowded living room—too loud, too messy. Instead, he wanted to go somewhere quieter, more private. Somewhere just for the two of you.

His gaze traces over you, unhurried, mapping out the contours of your form like he’s reading between the lines of a story he’s desperate to understand. There’s something in his eyes—a glimmer of curiosity, of wanting to know you. Not just the surface version of you, but the real thing. It’s a look you haven’t seen in a long time. Not since Ren. Maybe Yumi. Or even… Gojo.

Your throat runs dry as the thought of Gojo flickers through your mind—he’s still off fetching drinks, you presume. A rational part of you knows there are some lines that should never be crossed, some weapons too cruel to wield. Especially if that weapon is Ren.

But seeing it—the pain, the betrayal simmering just beneath Gojo’s nonchalant exterior, barely concealed behind the gleam of his blue irises—it was satisfying. A twisted kind of victory. It made your blood run cold and set it ablaze all at once.

Yeah. It was worth it.

You know you aren’t fully immersed in your conversation with the black-haired, god-sculpted man sitting beside you, but the thoughts clouding your mind are relentless. You think about how you left the living room without a word to Ren, how, once he's done devouring that guy in the corner, he’ll be looking for you.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips—they feel too dry. Everything feels too dry. The air, your throat, the pit forming in your stomach. With rushed movements, you rummage through your little lavender-painted purse, fingers desperately searching for a lip balm, a lip gloss—anything. Your hands move with a frantic urgency, as if coating your lips in something will somehow soothe the dull ache stretching through your chest like a tightening net.

And even though you don't want to—God, you don’t—you think about the fact that Gojo will be back soon. With drinks. Probably just for himself and Geto, because the absolute menace he is, he’ll take one look at you and decide you don’t deserve the satisfaction of numbing yourself with alcohol.

Geto notices. Of course, he does. His gaze lingers on you, his brows furrowing slightly as he takes in the shift, the sudden stiffness in your frame. He rolls his shoulders, making a point to look away, like he’s trying not to dwell on whatever the hell just flickered through you. But he feels it. Just like you do.

So even though the unspoken familiarity of talking to him is begging you to slip into the conversation, your tongue feels heavy, locked in place by the weight pressing against your chest. There’s a strange uncertainty hanging in the air, curling around your posture, making your shoulders hunch ever so slightly.

Geto pulls out his phone, the movement swift, almost too sharp. His fingers tap against the screen in a rhythmic melody, the soft sound filling the silence between you.

“You wanna watch some reels?” he asks, throwing you a glance, one brow quirked in quiet amusement. His lips press into a thin line—like he doesn’t know what else to say, like this is the only lifeline he can offer.

It’s strange, how the easy flow of conversation from earlier has withered into something fragile. How the air between you feels thick, charged with something you can’t name.

Without thinking, you shift closer, the warmth of his body pulling you in like gravity. Your shoulder presses firmly against his, and you swear you can feel the slow, steady rhythm of his pulse thrumming beneath his skin. Heat licks up your thighs where they press together, and when you rest your head lightly against his shoulder, he doesn’t move away.

For the next few minutes, silence settles over you—not the suffocating kind from before, but something softer. Something that feels almost safe. The only sounds are the occasional bursts of laughter shared between you when a particularly ridiculous video pops up on his screen.

And maybe you aren’t talking, maybe there are still things lingering in the spaces between you, but at least this silence doesn’t feel quite so lonely. It’s warm, like a cup of tea on a dreary afternoon. Like an anchor in the middle of a storm.

“I’m so back, besties.”

The voice slices through the room like a blade, sharp enough to make your body stiffen before you even register the interruption. Instinct takes over—your head snaps toward the intruder, a reflex you wish you could unlearn. But of course, it’s him. It’s always him.

Gojo Satoru stands in the doorway, one shoulder pressed lazily against the frame, like he’s been there for a while. Watching. Waiting. His gaze flickers between you and Geto, his expression a masterclass in indifference. Empty. Detached. But his lips—those damn lips—are curved into that signature smirk, the one that makes people go stupid. Three white plastic cups dangle from his left hand, the liquid inside them sloshing with every shift of his weight.

Your eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck in the back of your head.

“Gee, we were just getting worried,” you deadpan, dripping in sugar-coated sarcasm, because if he’s going to be unbearable, then so are you.

Gojo scoffs, the sound lazy, dismissive. His footsteps are slow, measured. Predatory. He takes his time approaching, each step dragging out the inevitable.

“Well, I told you not to miss me too much,” he murmurs, plopping onto the mattress beside Geto like he owns the place. Like this moment belongs to him.

You groan, shifting away slightly. “Didn’t you notice that we literally ran away from you? Why the hell did you follow us?”

His eyes latch onto yours, piercing, hungry in a way you can’t decipher. It’s infuriating, the way he just exists—so effortlessly, so maddeningly.

Gojo tilts his head, grin widening like he’s savoring your irritation. “Well, sweetheart, I was just being courteous, bringing the drinks my oh-so-great friend here,” he gestures lazily at Geto, “asked me to bring.”

Your teeth grind together as you bite down the urge to lunge across the bed and slap that smirk clean off his face.

Ugh. Why doesn’t he just go fuck off somewhere else?

“Fine,” you scoff, already feeling your patience thinning like an overstretched rubber band. If this is how the rest of your night is going to be—at least until Ren finishes his business—then you might as well spend it getting drunk. Maybe the numbing warmth of alcohol will smooth over the weirdness of the night. Because, hell, you made out with Geto, and you can’t even begin to process it. Not when Gojo’s eyes are burning holes into your skull. Not when he somehow feels closer than the man actually sitting beside you.

You stretch your arm out, palm flat and expectant, right in front of Gojo.

“Gimme the drink,” you say, lips pressing into a thin line.

The boy next to you practically vibrates with amusement. His grin widens, sharp as a blade, his fingers curling around the plastic cups like they’re a prize you need to earn.

“Nuh-uh.”

He twists a single finger in the air, slow and deliberate, as if wagging it at a disobedient child.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Not yet.”

“The fuck?”

Frustration spikes in your chest, hot and insistent. Without thinking, you lunge, half-sitting, half-sprawled over Geto in an attempt to snatch a cup from Gojo’s grasp. The action is desperate, ridiculous—and so are you—and it only makes Gojo’s smirk deepen, his amusement damn near suffocating.

“You’ll have to beg for it,” he whispers, voice just low enough to be a secret shared between the two of you. Each word is slow, deliberate, rolling off his tongue like he’s savoring the taste. Like he wants you to hear him.

A sharp laugh escapes you before you can stop it. Because—what the fuck?

Does he seriously think this is funny?

"The audacity," you bite out, yanking the cup from his grasp. But before you can retreat back to your comfortable position, something warm envelops your skin—firm, unyielding.

His fingers curl around your wrist, trapping you in place.

"Not that one," he says quickly, almost too quickly, his eyes flickering between the cup and your face with something close to panic.

Your brows furrow. "What, did you lace it or something?"

"No," he snaps, but there's a hesitation in his voice. A beat of silence, thick enough to choke on.

Geto shifts beneath you, the movement subtle, but you can feel it. When you glance at him, expecting discomfort, all you see is—interest. His dark eyes are sharp, locked onto the unfolding situation, his lips pressed into something unreadable. He isn’t intervening. He’s watching. Observing.

But before you can dwell on it, Gojo speaks again.

"It's vodka."

You squint at him, a grimace pulling at your features. "...So?"

His grip doesn't loosen. If anything, it tightens. Steady. Familiar. Too much like before.

"You hate vodka" he says, as if it's fact.

Your jaw tightens. "No, I don’t—"

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"C'mon, sweetheart, you do."

"First of all, stop calling me that," you snap, irritation flaring in your chest. "And second of all, I literally don’t."

"Really?" His head tilts, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "‘Cause last time I remember you drinking vodka, you were sixteen, throwing up your soul, crying out that you’d never drink it again after it rearranged your guts."

Your fingers tighten around the cup, knuckles whitening.

His voice is laced with something mocking, something goading—but beneath it, there’s something else. Something real.

And the worst part?

He remembers.

"Jesus," you scoff, your gaze flickering to Geto, who’s still a little too invested in what’s unfolding between you and Gojo. Your chest tightens, a storm brewing behind your eyes. "I grew out of it."

Your words come out sharp, clipped, as your eyes snap to Gojo, your face flushed with annoyance. He doesn’t know what it was like. He doesn’t get it. You can’t believe he's dredging up your past like this.

You don’t need him to remember.

You don’t need any of it.

And you definitely don’t need more reminders of him. Of you.

And yet, there’s his voice, sliding under your skin like a cold knife. He knows you. Too well.

Your throat tightens, and your pulse runs cold. You yank your hand back, the motion jerky, and as your fingers slip from his grip, some of the drink splashes onto Geto’s shirt.

"Oh, shit." You curse under your breath, your heart racing as you frantically try to dab at the stain.

"I’m so sorry," you mutter, your words tumbling out in a rush, your fingers moving quickly to clean the mess.

"It’s just a few drops, hun. Relax," Geto responds, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he settles into a more comfortable position, now that you’ve moved away from the awkward entanglement. He pauses, looking between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

"There's really some bad blood between y’all," Geto notes casually, his hands darting to sweep the hair on his forehead back, the night’s chaos taking its toll on his usually composed appearance.

You can hear Gojo scoff softly, his lips curling into that trademark grin that you hate, but know all too well. You try to ignore it, but the sound makes something in your chest tighten.

"Please," Gojo mutters under his breath, eyes glinting with something that borders on amusement and annoyance.

“There isn't. This asshole just won’t leave me alone,” you snap, the words spilling out faster than you intend. They feel bitter on your tongue, too sharp, too telling. Gojo watches you closely, his eyes dancing over every flicker of emotion on your face like he’s dissecting you, waiting for you to slip. The corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smirk, but something more insufferable. Something different.

So you do the only thing you can—you take a sip of your drink. Slowly. Purposefully. Just to spite him. His gaze doesn’t waver, locking onto your face as if he’s counting the seconds it takes for you to react. You know what he wants. He wants you to gag, to grimace, to prove him right. He wants Gojo Satoru Wins printed in bold letters across your forehead. So you let the vodka sear your throat, let it claw its way down, your expression unreadable as you swallow the fire.

Geto stretches beside you, his back arching slightly, muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he rolls out the tension in his neck. “Gee, now that you two have spent five minutes bickering about vodka, I just realized… doesn’t everyone have a near-death experience with it at some point?” His voice is casual, but there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he watches the silent war unfolding between you and Gojo.

Gojo scoffs dramatically, tipping his head back as if the memory physically pains him. “Yeah, well, she was puking all over my room. Not funny.” His voice drips with mock offense, and he pointedly addresses Geto like you aren’t sitting right there.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can fire back, Geto perks up, his lips twitching like he’s suppressing a grin. “Oh shit. That reminds me—once, I drank like ten shots of clear vodka on a school trip,” he says, his fingers lazily running through the loose strands of his hair before tying them back into a neater bun. “And I puked inside my roommate’s backpack. And the backpack was filled with his clothes.”

You nearly choke on your drink, a laugh bursting out of you before you can help it. Even Gojo, for all his theatrics, lets out a chuckle.

“No way,” you gasp between laughs, eyes wide as you turn to face Geto fully. “You vomited in his bag? Like, all his clothes were just—”

“—coated in it,” Geto confirms with a slow, amused nod. His shoulders shake slightly as he laughs at the memory. “It wasn’t even intentional. I passed out, woke up, and there he was, flipping the bag inside out like he was inspecting a crime scene. Poor guy was horrified.”

Your laughter only grows, shoulders trembling as you picture it. “Oh my god, Geto—”

Gojo clicks his tongue, shaking his head with faux disappointment. “Tsk, tsk, Suguru. And here I thought you had class.”

Geto lets out a low chuckle, stretching his long legs out in front of him, completely unfazed. “C’mon, like you’ve never had a drunk horror story.”

Gojo places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “Me? I am a respectable, responsible young man.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. “I distinctly remember you breaking into a vending machine with a baseball bat at fifteen because it ‘refused to give you your damn twix’.”

Geto hums, tilting his head. “Now that’s what I'm talking about.”

Gojo grins, stretching his arms behind his head like he’s perfectly at ease. “Okay, first of all, that vending machine deserved it. It stole my money. Second of all, what does this have to do with anything?”

You scoff, leaning back onto your palms, your body angled slightly toward Geto. “The point is, you are not respectable or responsible. You are, in fact, insane.”

Gojo feigns offense, but his grin only widens. He shifts closer to Geto, his hand accidentally knocking against yours, forcing you to acknowledge his presence in that unbearable way of his. “And yet, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice laced with amusement, “you still can’t seem to stay away from me.”

Your breath catches, but you school your expression into something unimpressed, tilting your chin up in defiance. “Maybe I just enjoy the suffering. Watching you exist is like witnessing a live car crash—horrible, tragic, but I just can’t look away.”

Geto snorts, barely containing his laughter as Gojo places a hand over his heart like you just mortally wounded him. “Wow. The betrayal. I’ll remember this, you know.”

“Good,” you quip, taking another sip of your drink, letting the burn replace the unexpected warmth rising in your chest. “I hope it haunts you.”

Gojo smirks, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, sharp and playful. “Oh,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something lower, something dangerous, “wouldn’t you like to.”

And just like that, the game shifts. The air thickens. Geto exhales a quiet breath, sensing the shift in energy between you two, but he doesn’t comment. He simply watches, eyes gleaming with amusement.

You don’t look away. You refuse to look away. Because looking away means losing. Looking away means admitting that, despite everything—despite the venom, despite the years—you still can’t shake Gojo Satoru from your skin.

And then you hear your name being yelled through the apartment—so loud, it rattles your bones, and for a split second, you swear the walls might just collapse under the weight of it.

“Aiko’s bedroom!” you shout, barely able to catch the surprise that’s rising in your chest. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before Ren, like some sort of comic book character, pops into view.

His hair’s a mess, clearly a product of the shenanigans he was up to earlier. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips? Swollen, the aftermath of two hours of very enthusiastic kissing. His eyes are a little too dazed, that signature look of “oh shit, here we go again” in full force. He’s probably falling in love again. But that’s Ren for you—he falls in love once a month, like clockwork. And honestly, who could blame him?

But despite his usual charm, Ren just stands there in the doorway. His posture is rigid, and his body frozen in place, as if he's trying to process what he’s just walked into. He blinks. Rapidly. Over and over, like he’s trying to shake off the image before him, but it’s still there. Staring right at him. Gojo. The unknown guy he recognizes from that shirtless profile pic—Geto. You. And now, him too.

The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, before Ren finally blinks a few more times. His gaze darts between the three of you, his expression shifting subtly. You can catch it before he even speaks.

Confusion.

It's written all over his face—the slight furrow of his brow, the hesitation in his step as he takes in the scene. His eyes linger just a little too long on Gojo and Geto, the realization dawning on him as he tries to piece everything together. But he doesn’t say a word—not yet. He just stands there, rooted to the spot like a deer in headlights.

And in that instant, you know—Ren’s caught between figuring out what’s really going on and wrestling with the strange sense of displacement that’s clinging to him like a second skin.

“Damn… Y’all having a threesome or something?” Ren bites out, his voice carrying that playful edge you know too well. You can’t help but crack a laugh under his gaze. His eyes, sharp and observant, are fixed on you now—analyzing every little shift in your posture, the subtle way you breathe, like he’s trying to read you, trying to figure out what the hell just went down while he was gone.

It’s typical Ren—always looking to lighten the mood, to ease whatever tension lingers in the air. And, as always, he succeeds.

You smirk, not missing a beat. “You really think I’d indulge in anything polyamorous without you?” you snark back, the words coming out with that familiar bite, the playful sarcasm that’s been your go-to with Ren for years.

Ren’s eyes widen in mock horror, his lips parting as he gasps dramatically. “Well I certainly hope not,” he exclaims, his hand flying to his chest as if you’ve just stabbed him in the heart.

You roll your eyes, still chuckling at his antics, but there's a subtle warmth in the way he reacts, the way he pulls you back to a sense of normalcy, even after everything that’s just unfolded in the room. You know, deep down, that Ren’s got your back. Even in the weirdest of situations.

Ren steps further into the room, his eyes still flicking from you to Gojo and Geto, his lips pulling into that mischievous grin you know too well. His fingers brush through his messy hair, still looking like he just stepped out of a whirlwind. "So, what's the deal with this... reunion?" Ren asks, his tone dripping with mock sweetness, his eyes narrowing on Gojo.

Gojo tilts his head slightly, giving Ren an assessing look, his usual cocky grin slipping into something a little more neutral. It’s clear the two haven’t exchanged more than a couple of awkward glances in years. “Ren,” Gojo mutters, his voice flat, like he’s still trying to figure out how to approach this. “Still making an entrance, I see.”

Ren shrugs, unbothered, but there’s something more guarded about him now. "Could say the same about you, Gojo," he replies coolly, not backing down. His gaze flickers between Gojo and Geto, the tension palpable, but he doesn't seem phased by it. “Guess some things never change."

“Like you being a pain in the ass?” Gojo shoots back with a smirk, clearly trying to keep the conversation light despite the underlying awkwardness.

Ren’s lips curl into a grin. "Oh, I’m pretty sure you were the one who made being a pain in the ass an art form," he shoots back, his voice dripping with playful venom. "But you wouldn’t know anything about that, huh?"

Gojo's expression falters for a second, the history between the three of you briefly surfacing. There’s a brief flicker in his eyes before he looks away. "Yeah, well, I’ve had other things to focus on," he mutters, half to himself. There's a lot unsaid in those words.

Ren laughs, his voice slightly more genuine this time. "Sure, whatever you say," he teases, his gaze softening as he looks at you for a brief moment before shifting his focus back to Gojo.

Geto, who has been silently observing the exchange, finally speaks up, his voice calm but laced with quiet amusement. “You two really never got past high school, huh?” His words hang in the air, cutting through the tension like a sharp knife. He leans back against the bed, his arms crossed, taking in the spectacle with a bemused smirk.

Ren snorts, rolling his eyes. "Guess some things are just too fun to let go of," he quips, turning his attention back to you, the familiarity of his banter making you feel a little more at ease despite everything that’s been happening.

You watch the back-and-forth with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, the strange energy between Ren and Gojo palpable. They used to be inseparable, best friends who could finish each other’s sentences, but now it’s like there’s an invisible wall between them—a history of unspoken words and unresolved tension that neither one is ready to address.

“Why does it feel like I’m witnessing a reunion of two exes who haven’t spoken in years?” You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head.

Ren raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’d say it’s more like an awkward ex-friends meet-up, but I’m not sure even that would explain the way Gojo’s looking at me,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s a flicker of something else—something more guarded—underneath.

Gojo’s gaze flicks to Ren, sharp and calculating. "Don't flatter yourself. You were never that memorable," Gojo shoots back, but his words lack the bite they used to have. Instead, they feel more like a test—something he's unsure of himself.

Ren’s eyes narrow, a brief flash of something flickering in them before he forces a smile. "Right, just another part of your long list of things that don’t matter."

For a split second, the room feels like it’s holding its breath, the years between them heavier than any of the light-hearted jokes they try to make.

Finally, Geto clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Alright, enough with the weird tension. We’re not teenagers anymore,” he says, voice smooth but with a touch of authority. His eyes flick over to you, and then back to the two of them. “Can we all just be civil? For once?”

You look between all of them, feeling the weight of the moment. It’s been a long time since you were in the same room together and you know the real issue is far deeper than few words or an old grudge.

Ren shrugs, his casual demeanor returning. “I’m fine as long as the drinks keep coming,” he quips, his earlier tension dissipating a little. He looks at you with that familiar glint in his eyes, the one that reminds you he’s still your Ren—no matter what’s changed.

You smile back at him, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

You only now notice a bottle he’s been holding the entire time dangling from his fingers like he’s just found the Holy Grail. “Mhm, honey. Jack Daniel’s,” he hums, presenting the bottle with an exaggerated flourish, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

“Thank God,” you groan, snatching it from his hands and taking a deep swig straight from the bottle. The burn is immediate, spreading through your chest like a slow-moving fire. This. This is the real shit.

Ren’s eyes flicker to the plastic cup still in your grip, squinting at it like it personally offended him. “Wait. What the fuck is that?”

“Vodka.”

His entire expression morphs into disgust. “But, babe, you hate vodka,” he says, crossing his arms like a disapproving mother catching her child doing something dumb.

“HA, I told you—” Gojo starts, the smuggest look imaginable on his face, but Geto lazily lifts a hand to cut him off.

“Who cares?” Geto groans, throwing his head back against the wall. “I swear to god, if I have to hear one more thing about vodka, I’m leaving this room.”

You see the flicker of realization cross Ren’s face. He’s thinking—reading the tension in the room, feeling the weird undercurrent of something unspoken. But he doesn’t say anything. Lets the vodka talk stay mystery.

“Let’s just get obliterated,” Geto declares, reaching for the bottle.

And so you do.

Ren plops onto the floor, limbs sprawled out dramatically as the four of you pass the bottle around like a sacred ritual. But between the four of you, it’s Ren who’s truly on the fast track to blackout city. A few gulps in and his mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air.

“And,” Ren slurs, words tumbling out too fast, “he’s so hot, guys. I can’t explain. He literally ate my throat with his tongue.”

You groan, gripping the bottle like it can save you from this conversation. “Jesus Christ, Ren.”

Gojo snorts, eyes half-lidded from alcohol but still sharp enough to be insufferable. “Now, that,” he drawls, amusement curling at his lips, “just sounds like he doesn’t know how to kiss.”

“THANK you,” you exclaim, gesturing at Gojo like he just solved world hunger.

“No, no, I’m telling you,” Ren insists, his hands moving wildly as he tries to physically reenact the experience. His fingers dance in the air like he’s molding the memory into existence. “It was hot. Like really hot.”

Gojo shakes his head, grinning. “Rookie mistake. If someone’s eating your face, it’s not hot. It’s a cry for help.”

Ren glares at him, or tries to, but he’s too drunk for it to be anything but vaguely cross-eyed. “You wouldn’t know, Satoru. I heard all about the way you kiss.”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “Oh?”

You can see it now—Ren’s gearing up for a drunk argument, and Gojo’s drunk enough to entertain it. And you don’t really want to hear about Gojo and you kissing.

Geto, ever the wise one, exhales deeply. “I swear to god,” he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. “Every time I drink with people, I lose a little more faith in humanity.”

Ren points at him like he just remembered he exists. “Wait. You.”

Geto blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Me?”

“You. You’re like, cool or whatever.”

“…Thanks?”

Ren tilts his head, processing something in real-time. “Wait, who are you?”

Geto laughs, genuinely amused. “Geto Suguru.”

Ren nods as if that means anything to him. He has a tendency to forget familiar faces as soon as alcohol enters his system.

“Cool. You’re not ugly.”

“I appreciate that?”

You snort, handing the bottle back to Ren as you lean into the bed, feeling the night settle into that warm, buzzing state of intoxication.

Gojo, meanwhile, is staring at Ren like he’s trying to solve a particularly annoying puzzle. They haven’t spoken in years. Haven’t even acknowledged each other’s existence until tonight.

Ren notices and immediately squints back at him. “Dude, you’re creepy.”

Gojo doesn’t answer immediately. Just holds eye contact for a beat too long before finally saying, deadpan, “You’re still annoying.”

Ren bursts into laughter, so violently it makes you start laughing. “And you’re still a bitch.”

Geto chokes on his drink.

You cackle.

Ren’s cackling is still echoing in the room when you, already a few gulps too deep into the whiskey, prop yourself up dramatically. Your head flops back, and you sigh dreamily, voice slurred but mischievous.

“You know,” you drawl, gaze flickering toward Geto, who’s nursing the bottle now, “Geto kisses reeeaaally well.”

Geto nearly spits out his drink. Gojo’s eyebrows shoot up so fast it’s like they’re trying to escape his face.

Ren, on the other hand, gasps so dramatically you’re convinced he just found out a life-altering secret. His hands slap against the floor as he drags himself closer to you like a scandalized reality TV star. “EXCUSE ME?”

You blink at him lazily, lips curling. “What?”

Ren is still sprawled on the floor like a starfish, eyes wide with scandal as he processes what you just said. “You kissed him?” His voice goes up an octave, like you just confessed to murder.

Gojo’s grip tightens around his cup, but his expression stays maddeningly unreadable. He scoffs, leaning back against the bed like this is so beneath him. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You literally interrupted us dumbfuck. Don’t act so surprised now.”

Geto raises a lazy eyebrow, swirling the bottle in his hand. “Wow. Just announcing it like that, huh?”

You ignore them, too busy focusing on Ren, who suddenly sits up like a detective cracking a case. His hands slap the floor as if he’s in pain. “WAIT. Did he like that story you posted for him?” He narrows his eyes, leaning in, looking entirely too nosy. “HMM?”

Your drunk brain takes a second to catch up. And then it clicks.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you lunge for him, but Ren dodges, rolling away in an exaggerated move, cackling like a maniac.

“HE DIDN’T, DID HE?” he yells, laughing so hard he’s practically wheezing.

You throw a pillow at him, but he just lets it hit him in the face, unbothered. “Oh my god. That’s so embarrassing.”

You groan. “He didn’t even see it, okay? It’s not that deep.”

Geto takes a slow sip of whiskey, unbothered. “Wait. What story?”

You glare at Ren. “Nothing.”

Ren gasps. “Ohhh, you really thought he’d like it or at least see it, didn’t you? Oh my god, that’s so much worse—”

You grab the bottle out of Geto’s hand and take a long, long sip. “I hate you.”

Gojo, who had been suspiciously silent for the last few minutes, finally speaks up. “Wait. Back up.” He clicks his tongue, his jaw a little too tight. “So you’re telling me you posted some pathetic thirst trap for Geto, and he didn’t even notice?” His voice is all mockery, but his fingers are drumming against the plastic cup like he’s irritated.

Geto just shrugs. “Didn’t see it.”

Ren turns to you with an expression that can only be described as suffering. “Oh my god, that’s so tragic.”

“Tragic,” Gojo echoes dryly, drinking you with his eyes. His tone is biting, but you catch the way his fingers twitch. “You really thought Suguru was gonna—what? Fall to his knees? Write you a love letter?” He lets out a short laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s adorable.”

You roll your eyes, feeling the whiskey settle warm in your stomach. “I don’t recall asking for your input, Satoru.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, tilting his head at you, and for a second, his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “I just think it’s funny,” he hums, slow and deliberate, “how suddenly you’re all over Suguru. Like you’re trying to prove a point or something.”

Your breath hitches, but you refuse to let him see it. “Or maybe,” you shoot back, “He’s just hot and kisses really well.”

Ren lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like you just hit him. “Oh my god, you really went there.”

Gojo goes dead silent. His jaw clenches.

Geto, on the other hand, just chuckles, amused. “Appreciate it,” he says simply, taking another sip.

Gojo leans forward suddenly, his knuckle brushing against yours, his lips curling into something almost smug—but there’s something tight in his expression, something sharp behind his words. “Huh. That’s crazy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Gojo smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking about all the times you used to say I was the best you’d ever had.”

Silence.

Ren screeches. “OH MY GOD—”

You launch yourself at him, but Gojo is already laughing, leaning back before you can hit him, his grin widening as you sputter.

Geto sighs, shaking his head. “Here we go.”

Ren is on the floor howling.

You stare at him, feeling your face heat up. “Ren, I hate you.”

Gojo, still smirking, raises his cup. “To being unforgettable.”

You throw a pillow at him next.

Conversation shifts after that but the room feels smaller, the air heavier. Or maybe it’s just the alcohol catching up to you. But no matter how much you try to focus on Ren passionately defending the Slytherin agenda while Geto just smirks and plays devil’s advocate, purposely sliding with Gryffindor to spite Ren, your skin prickles under Gojo’s gaze. It’s like he’s physically pressing into you, eyes burning into the side of your face.

You don’t want to look.

You shouldn’t look.

But you do.

And fuck, it’s a mistake.

Because the moment your eyes meet his, you know you’re done for.

His expression is unreadable—lazy, casual, lips barely curled in amusement. But his eyes tell a different story. They’re sharp, too sharp, darkened at the edges, flickering with something you can’t name. Something that makes your stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

The way he’s looking at you—punishing is the only word that comes to mind.

Like he wants to undo you.

Like he wants you to remember something you’ve spent years trying to forget.

Your grip tightens around the whiskey bottle, nails digging into the glass.

Ren’s voice is distant, blurred. “—Okay but Slytherins are literally—hello? Earth to you, hun?”

You snap your head toward him, almost too quickly, feeling your pulse thunder in your ears. “Huh?”

Ren frowns, tilting his head. “Are you even listening? I swear to god, if you’re mentally making out with someone right now, I’ll—”

“I’m not,” you cut him off, voice coming out too forcefully. You force a smirk, lifting the bottle to your lips. “I just zoned out. Keep yelling about Hogwarts, it’s entertaining.”

Ren narrows his eyes, suspicious, but he lets it slide, turning back to Geto. “Anyway. As I was saying—”

You try to focus. You really do. But you can still feel Gojo watching you, that same insufferable, unreadable expression lingering on his face.

And when you finally glance back at him—just for a second—he tilts his head, slow and deliberate.

Then he smirks.

And fuck, you know he knows.

Ren, still sprawled dramatically on the floor, waves his arms in the air like he’s conducting a symphony. “No, no, no, listen. Slytherins aren’t evil—”

“They just happen to have, what? A monopoly on war crimes?” Geto cuts in smoothly, swirling his drink in one hand.

Ren gasps like Geto just slapped his mother. “EXCUSE ME?”

You choke on your whiskey, the sudden shriek piercing through your drunken haze. “Oh my god.”

“No, because listen—” Ren scrambles up to sit cross-legged, hands flailing wildly. “Slytherins are just misunderstood.”

“Oh, sure.” Geto nods, voice dripping with amusement. “I’m sure Voldemort was just looking for a hug.”

Ren points an accusing finger at him. “See, that is a stereotype.”

“Oh, I’m the problem?” Geto raises an eyebrow, the smirk tugging at his lips sending Ren into a spiral.

“Yes, Suguru,” Ren drags out his name dramatically. “You and your blatant anti-Slytherin agenda—”

Meanwhile, Gojo is still staring at you. Like he’s enjoying this entire mess but not quite participating. Like he’s content watching you squirm.

And you hate that it’s working.

So you snap toward him, leveling him with a glare. “What?”

He tilts his head, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. “What, what?”

“You’re staring.”

He blinks, mock innocence all over his face. “Am I?”

You clench your jaw. “Yes.”

Gojo hums, dragging his gaze over your face like he’s memorizing it. “Huh. Guess you’re just fun to look at.”

And then, as if the universe decided to ruin the moment in one swift punch, two unfortunate events unfold.

First—Geto’s phone buzzes on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. A girl’s name. A girl’s picture. Of course. Your stomach churns, irritation bubbling under your skin. He’s kissed you, gotten high with you, shared whiskey straight from the bottle, and now he’s slinking away from the room to answer some other girl’s call like a pathetic, obedient little puppy. Disgusting.

And then—Ren explodes.

Like, quite literally. One second, he’s swaying where he sits, eyes unfocused. The next—he’s projectile vomiting all over the floor.

“FUCK—” you scramble, instinctively dropping down beside him, hand rubbing circles on his back. “Oh my god, Ren—breathe—”

But he can’t breathe.

Because he’s too busy dying.

Gojo, in a surprising act of heroism, curses under his breath and runs to the bathroom, emerging seconds later with whatever he could grab to clean up the disaster zone that is now Ren’s life.

And then, through his tears and the unrelenting flow of puke, Ren practically begs you to take him home.

So you do. Or at least, you try.

You’re struggling. Ren is practically melting in your arms, his legs all but giving out, and you’re using every ounce of strength to keep him upright. He’s mumbling incoherently against your shoulder, completely useless in his drunken state.

Gojo is still standing there, watching. Holding a piece of crumpled toilet paper. Unhelpful. Smug. Annoying.

“I can help, y’know.” His voice is as lazy as ever, but you can hear the undercurrent of amusement. He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t,” you grunt, adjusting your grip on Ren, “need your help.”

Gojo lets out a low whistle. “Yeah? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re about to collapse under him like a poorly built Jenga tower.”

You glare at him, breath heavy. “I’ve got this.”

“Oh, sure. Super convincing,” Gojo drawls, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You’re wobbling more than he is, and he’s literally unconscious.”

“Shut up,” you snap, shifting Ren’s weight again. “Just stand there and be useless like always.”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Because I’m the one making this harder than it needs to be.” He takes a step closer, and you can feel his presence now, heat radiating off him despite the cool night air. His voice drops, softer but sharper. “It’s not about you, sweetheart. It’s about him. If you love him, you’ll let me help.”

Your jaw tightens. Your pride screams at you to tell him to fuck off.

But you do love Ren. And Ren needs help.

So you exhale sharply and let your grip loosen, stepping back. “Fine.”

Gojo doesn’t gloat, doesn’t smirk—just smoothly moves in, slinging Ren’s arm over his shoulder like it’s effortless. And just like that, the weight is gone.

You blink at him, suddenly aware of how much easier things just got.

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “Was that so hard?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirks, adjusting Ren against him. “Let’s get this dumbass home.”

And together, the three of you stumble out of Aiko's apartment, into the humid night air.

The moment the Uber pulls up, Gojo shoves Ren inside and then—without a word—climbs in right after him.

The car feels like it’s swallowing you whole. It’s cramped, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and stale air freshener, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. The only sounds are Ren’s weak mutterings and the soft, almost rhythmic hum of the radio in the background. It’s just the three of you (and the driver) now, moving through the streets as the night rolls on, heavy with unspoken tension.

You absently twirl a lock of your hair, eyes flicking between Ren’s pale face and the darkness outside the window. You can feel Gojo’s gaze on you—like he’s right there, even if you’re not looking. You keep your eyes trained on Ren’s sickly form, avoiding him as best as you can. But it’s impossible to ignore the weight of his presence.

“Yeah, it probably did suit you better,” Gojo’s voice breaks the silence, low and slurred.

You blink, confused, eyes narrowing as you turn toward him. “What?”

“Nothing. Forget it,” he mutters quickly, looking out the window as if the words he’d just dropped didn’t matter at all. But the flicker of something dark in his eyes tells you otherwise.

The rest of the ride is eerily quiet. It’s just you, Gojo, and Ren, floating in this weird, suffocating space of unresolved tension. You can feel it between you and Gojo, this crackling electricity that’s too familiar and too sharp, like it could cut through the silence any moment. But neither of you says a word.

And so, the city passes by, the lights blurring into streaks of yellow and white, until you’re left with nothing but the sound of Ren’s breathing, the faint hum of the cab’s engine, and the unsaid words hanging in the air.

taglist :@zeunys @charmstarr @ovela @kur0mii3 @dabisdolly @17362939 @krispywhisperswhispers @mintcheery @kazupop @heh123321 @hanakotateyama @choppersworlds-blog @eneiyri @suniloli @44ina. @s4ikooo1 @blushedcheri @dishs0pe @rhea-sylvea @eolivy @gojoprincesss @decadentcoffeecandy @4thansstuff

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.

[changisworld]

A helping hand

Felix x f!reader

Word count:6,227

Summary: Felix is addicted to masterbating & also sex. But despite his addictions, he hasn’t got laid in over a year & has to use his hand but he has now gotten bored with it. He has tried different toys, DIY tricks etc but it’s just not the same, so he caves in one night & signs up to one of the “single ladies in your area” adverts out of complete desperation after clicking on it by accident. not thinking in case he gets a million more porn viruses, but he ends up talking to someone he thinks is even more attractive than him, you.

->Authors note at bottom!

18+ MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: NEEEEDDDDYYY felix, felix cums a LOT& i mean a LOT, multiple orgasms(both rec), switch reader, switch felix, spit, oral (both rec), 69, facesitting, ball sucking, slliiiiggghhhtttt anal play(felix rec), body worship, squirting, hair pulling, very brief masterbating, slight overstimulation, cum eating, creampie, tiniest bit of dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, aftercare is mostly off screen! 90% smut 10% plot (sorry nawt sorry)

Felix has been scrolling through pornhub & also twitter for hours. He has gotten two hundred pages down into pornhub & can't help but grumble to himself, his cock red & angry now resting on his lower stomach, a few, small ropes of cum spread across his abs & for him, that's nothing.

He scratches the underside of his cock with his nails in a slow motion, trying to give himself a tiny bit of stimulation.

He keeps aimlessly scrolling through the pages upon pages of videos but he is barely even reading the titles, his eyes getting bored & he ends up focusing on the bunch of stupid adverts at the top of the page & he watches the same clip replaying over & over & he clicks on the video right below the advert a second later, the thumbnail catching his attention for the first time in forever.

The video takes a second to load & another advert comes up & he sighs, before realising it's the same advert from the top of the screen. He goes to press the 'skip advert' button but accidently clicks on the actual advert & it takes him onto a website.

He goes to just click off of it, but something... someone catches his his eye.

The website is styled like an early 2000's porn magazine, pictures of women with descriptions below, a small text box beneath each where you can leave your own message for the women to get back to you.

He decides to just scroll down a few, when a specific girl stands out to him, a girl called y/n. In the picture given, you're wearing a lacey black bra & panties set, your body & face on full display.

He takes a brief look at your description: "*YOUR AGE*, no hard no's, feel free to message me, I won't bite unless you ask me to<3" & Felix feels almost compelled to text you. He signs up to the website, not even bothering to think if it's a scam website & could steal all his information before setting his profile picture, his name, age & bio up before sending you a message.

Felix's description: "Into absolutely everything. I dom & sub, I'm not picky!:3 You name it, I'm into it!" He decides to keep it short, not wanting to add too much in case with his luck, one of his friends, almost as desperate as he is, coming across his account somehow.

Felllx2000: Aren't u too pretty to be here?

Felix texts you, not wanting to sound like a weirdo, he goes to click out of your name & scroll further down the site when he sees a speech bubble at the bottom of the screen, you already typing back.

You: Shouldn't I be asking you the same? you look so innocent, what you doing on here? Felllx2000: looks are deceiving then lol, i'm anything but that:3 You: I seen your bio, you seem like fun, whats brought you here? Felllx2000: came here on accident lol but i dont regret it now, do u have any more pics of u?? You: aww you're just a cutie<3 ofc I do, I'm supposed to make you pay for images since only the texting part is meant to be free but you're just a beautiful boy so one wont hurt. You:Imag.ddxi41g

Felix's eyes widen at the image, you're posing in the mirror in another set of lingerie, this time a hot pink set, making your curves look as good as possible, your hand cupping the bottom of one of your tits & you are sticking your tongue out.

Felix's cock jumps up from his stomach for the first time all night & a few of his fingers reach down to fondle the tip of his dick, eyes narrowing slightly at the sensation.

Felllx2000:can i be a beg & ask for another? ur so hot it hurts You: You're really a desperate boy aren't you? Why not you send me something of you first n i can decide if i'll send anything else ;)

Felix reads this & is instantly flicking onto his camera roll & selecting multiple photos of himself, photos of his aching leaky cock, photos of his abs & even a full body shot before sending it.

You, on the other side of the phone, your jaw drops when he sends the photos & the sleep clothes you're wearing all of a sudden feeling far too tight on your body. You go back into your camera roll & dig out a pussy picture, your fingers in a 'V' shape, spreading your hole & your clit visible, a shimmer noticeable, the photo taken after you did a private show for another texter (you made over £950 that night) since you were a bit too sleepy to take a brand new picture since it's 2am for you both.

Felix's cock pulsates, this being the first time he's actually received nudes for the first time in months & he begins to actually jerk off into his hand, all of a sudden he is actually getting the tiniest bit of sensation to his cock as he admires the photo.

Felllx2000: y/n ur making me nuts holy shit You: Feelings mutual sweetie, u jerking off for me? Felllx2000: thats a silly question of course i am, wish it was you though</3 You: you gonna cum just from a few pictures hmm? why you so needy? do you not get female attention, pretty? Can I ask what your body count is gorgeous? with a face like that you can easily be married by now. Felllx2000: noooo;( my hand doesn't bring me anything good, want someone else, want u. It's 3, I just dont get the chance! im good in bed though, id luv to prove it! ;0 You: Your neediness turns me on so much babe, what is it you want me to do to you? I want to kiss your pretty face off n ride you till you cry, your cock is so beautiful, so pink

You can't help but smile at your screen & you shut your phone off & you crawl out your bed & hop in the shower, taking the extra time to use extra body scrubs & scents as you feel a bit nervous of what you are gonna do, in the meantime, felix has began blowing up your phone.

Felllx2000:Want u to wrap ur lips around me so much;( want to fuck u so bad, i can last so long y/n, u have no idea Felllx2000: would let u wrap ur thighs around my head, pull my hair, i can be so good for you if u want me tooooo<3 Felllx2000: where u gone?:( did i scare u? im sorry, u dont need to respond.

You hop out the shower & dry your hair as quick as you can & you lift your phone that's half hidden in your bedsheets & you see the messages he sent & your eyebrows furrow a bit.

You: Don't be so silly, nothing that comes from your pretty face could scare me. You free right now?

Felix opens that text almost instantly & his eyes instantly widen, his hand freezing on his cock as he just stares at the words.

Felllx2000: I am why? you sound nearly as desperate as me

You: Well if you're really that desperate for me, we can exchange numbers & talk more n meet up hmm? & don't get cheeky lmao, calling me desperate compared to you! silly silly but i wont deny it;)

Felllx2000: right now? it says we are 6km apart so i can pick u up? or when? idk i dont do this idk how to acttt, you're making me blush You: Sounds fine hunny, we need to switch app because if we somehow get caught n you didnt pay id get in shit lmao, we arent allowed to meet people irl but theres just something about you, gimme your number pretty please

Felix springs up in bed & sends you his number quicker than you can blink & you text his number & he replies just as quick & his heart is racing at the thought... he's maybe gonna actually hook up with someone???

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both decide to text for a few days, mostly to secure your own safety in a way & you facetimed once or twice, which actually ended up in phone sex both times & you now discovered it's a huge kink of yours.

You have mostly been waiting on Felix to get more comfortable as you can tell he is the more nervous one, unsurprisingly, but tonight is the night.

You've learned a few things about Felix, one of them being when he told you his name, but he also pretty much explained to you his... addiction & you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on but also scare you slightly, what if you genuinely can't please him? you've never met anyone from the site in real life & you can't help but get butterflies knowing you're hooking up with felix tonight, possibly the hottest guy you've ever spoken to point blank.

Felix texts you to tell you he is on your way, both of you deciding to meet at your house since his small, man cave, standard gamerboy slightly messy apartment who he shares with his roommate Changbin is home.

You light a candle in your lounge area & put a loose top & sleep shorts on top of your chosen set & you put on the tiniest bit of makeup, still wanting to look good for him despite it being close to 1am.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You hear a few knocks on your door twenty minutes later & you feel your heart coming out your throat but you do your best to swallow it as you waltz your way to the front door, putting on a brave face, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Felix & you both look at each other & smile, Felix wearing a pair of grey sweatpants & a matching hoodie, his blonde hair slightly messy. You whisper a 'hi' to one another, being quiet to not let the words echo in the apartment stairway, before you move aside for him to enter.

You shut the door behind him & you instantly flip around to look at one another again.

"Surprised you actually showed up, do you want a drink or anything?" you ask, giving him a smirk as you close the distance between you both & tease him by taking his hand in yours & guiding him to the living room, plopping him down on the couch, but he pulls you down with him.

"I'll drink later, c'mere." he remarks as he helps you onto his lap so you're straddling him & his lips lock with yours instantly, the kiss full of need from the both of you, you realising you've been lacking physical touch a fraction of the amount Felix has been.

His hands trail down to your waist & then ass, kneading it like a cat in his short fingers as he helps you begin grinding your hips against him & you can already feel his cock hard beneath the layers of clothes, making your eyebrows furrow.

You take the initiative & you begin poking your tongue through his puffy pink lips & he groans into it, the pair of you both now exchanging spit, the noise of your lips smacking together ringing through both of your ears.

You wriggle your fingers through his hair before you pull back on it, pulling his lips away from yours & he lets out a deep groan before you look at him, a mischievous look on your face before you lean down slightly & begin kissing his jawline & neck, using your teeth to nip at it, making him roll his hips onto your covered crotch, his hands fighting the urge to dig his hands past the waistband of your shorts.

You wriggle your hips slightly backwards to make more room for you to kiss his neck & your hands below his hoodie & you quickly make the note that he has no shirt beneath the hoodie he is wearing & you graze your fingers over his solid abs.

"& you said I was the desperate one, can I take these off?" he groans, his voice raspy as he tries to sound fully composed but failing. You lean back enough & raise your hips enough to wiggle off the shorts he was referring to, giggling as his eyes become glued to your covered core.

"Don't get cheeky Felix, you're the one pawing at me." you giggle as you pull his hoodie off his frame, leaving him naked on the top half & you basically naked on the bottom half.

You usher Felix to lay flat on the couch & you climb back on top of him & you plant some kisses on his now naked chest & you take one of his pretty, dark nipples in your mouth & you lightly bite, making him wince at the feeling has he keeps jerking his hips upwards, seeking even a tiny bit extra friction, which you decide you'll give him.

You give him a look as your fingers are playing with the drawstrings on his joggers & he just nods, giving you a non verbal sign that you can take them off, & you do, Felix raising his hips just enough for you to fully pull them off his milky coloured legs.

You hum in approval at the bulge in his underwear, the front part completely soaked with precum & you make quick progress of pulling his boxers off to, leaving him feeling desperate & he hums at the cold air hitting his wet tip, his cock harder & more leaky than it has been in his whole life.

"I thought nothing got you to orgasm anymore but your pretty balls look as if they're about to explode." you quip & he covers his eyes with his arm momentarily out of slight embarrassment.

"That's only when it's me, when it's you in front of me why would anyone be surprised." he squeaks, his stomach lurching forward as you take his pretty, boyfriend sized, chubby cock in your hand & hold it with a firm grip, using your thumb & index finger to pinch lightly at his piss slit, watching his cock leak precum like a broken faucet.

"What is it you're wanting Lixie, hmm?" you question, your hand painfully slowly jerking him off, more precum dripping every time your hand moves. "Tongue, please?" he pleads, his puppy eyes looking down at you & as much as you want to drag it out, your willpower already completely out the window & you chuckle at his desperate face before you ingulf his tip past your lips.

You use your hand to keep jerking off the base of his cock, his trimmed, straight pubes tickling the part of the hand that is grazing them & your other hand slithers down the extra tiny bit before you cup his balls, rolling them in your fingers & the moan the man under you lets out a load whine.

You swirl your tongue around his tip before sinking down his now completely soaked with spit cock, your drool dripping onto his balls, giving him goosebumps. You quickly come up for a breath & spit out the gallons of drool that hasn't been pushed out from his cock pistoning into your mouth & you take this opportunity to suckle on his balls, pulling on them with your lips gently, making Felix squeal as you continue rolling the other half in his hand. You catch your breath back as much as you can while doing this then you pull your lips off his balls & blow some cold air on them, making his cock twitch in your hand, before returning it into your mouth.

His hips jerk up on accident but when you moan around his cock, sending vibrations up his spine, he begins to thrust shallowly into your throat & you gurgle around him, your eyes not breaking eye contact with his, not even an ounce of embarrassment in your face despite the mess.

"Gonnagonna cum, d- you're so good." he groans as his hair begins sticking to his face as his eyes struggle & then failing to keep his eyes open as his tip spills ropes of cum out of it & landing right into your throat & you moan around his cock, moving your head up so you're only suckling on the tip as you swallow four separate mouthfuls of his orgasm & you can feel the wetness almost leaking out from your panties.

You pull fully off his dick & you aren't even that surprised that his cock is still completely hard. You open your mouth to make fun of the fact but Felix cuts you off by pulling you up towards him so you are now sat on his lower stomach & pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you in just your set & felix whines at the sight.

"Need to eat you out, I'm genuinely dying to taste you." he states as he pulls on the tiny tiny waistband of your thong & you just giggle at his words & crawl up his frame even more so your cunt is right above his face & he looks up at you with his jaw slightly open & his eyes watering.

"Really Lixie? I'll give it to you because I pity your desperation." you say, slight attitude & sarcasm in your voice as you lower yourself onto his face, your panties still covering where you both want to see & feel the most.

Felix begins to kitten lick your clit over your panties & he hums to himself at the tiniest faint taste of your juice that's seeping through your underwear & you purr at the sensation, trying your hardest to not begin grinding against his face, but when he is now pushing & pulling on your waist, you do just that.

Felix decides that your underwear is now soaked through enough with his own saliva & gets one of his small fingers & he pushes your panties to the side & he lets out a pitiful gasp.

"Your cunt is so pretty, it's soaking, shit." he murmurs, more to himself than he is to you before he digs in, pulling your body onto his face as much as he possibly can as he licks a long, wide strip up your entire cunt before settling his tongue on your puffy clit, suckling on it as if his life depends on it & you can't help but hiss at the pleasure.

He laps his tongue in tiny circles around your button as he sucks at the same time, making you feel as if you are on cloud nine. "No way this-you're this good if you're as inexperienced as-as you made out to be." You stammer, your eyes scrunched shut & your head raised up at the ceiling as your fingers find their way to his hair to tug on it, making him jerk his hips & whimper into your cunt.

He moves one of his hands from your waist & gives your ass a quick but harsh spank, making you jerk as forward as you can with his grip still holding you in place as his hand makes its way down to where his mouth is & he enters two fingers into your dripping hole & your stomach lurches & your body slightly curls forwards & you find balance in Felix's hair & he honestly has no issue with the way you are pulling on it, moaning back into your cunt which shoots right through you.

"Gonna c-cum, wait." you force out before you use all your strength to raise yourself off his completely soaked face, his lips red & puffy & his hair all dishevelled & you boop his nose, giving him a small smile through staggered breath as you do your best to flip your body around so you're now facing the rest of his body & Felix lets out a groan before pulling you back down onto his face, him already addicted to your taste & can't go s minute without it.

You grind down on his face, the bottom part of your pussy lips hitting against his nose, making you purr. You fully open your eyes & notice there's a puddle of cum on his abs, even whiter than his skin. "You c-came untouched, I'm fla-flattered." you blabber as you reach out for his cock & begin to jerk it, obviously still hard despite a second orgasm.

Felix chuckles into your cunt & his ears go a slight shade of red, a bit shy at how quickly you have managed to make him cum in such a small amount of time. You put the tip of his cock past your lips & hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue as best as you can as your mind is going fuzzy by now.

You hum at a mixture of the taste of precum & also at the feeling Felix is providing you & you can feel your orgasm slowly bubbling up so you coat your finger in your own spit before you begin lightly pinching his balls, making him whimper into your cunt & he detaches himself from your pussy momentarily.

"Fingers, fingers y/n p-please., fingers." he squeaks to you, his voice completely blown out before he gets back to what he was doing, his brain running at a million miles an hour & his tongue moving even quicker, because despite the lack of women he has been with, he knows how to eat.

He latches his lips & tongue onto yours & suckles as he worms his tongue into your hole & your legs begin to shake & you take a second to compose yourself after listening to his words & you use the hand that was just jerking off his soaking cock & switch it to your other hand & you use your now shiny hand & you roll it down towards where he was asking, making sure to put a bit extra pressure on his balls as you drag it down.

You use your index finger & swirl it around his pucker & Felix lets out a squeal at the feeling & his dick twitches in your mouth & his hips buck up slightly making you gag but you don't pull off. As he does this, his teeth accidentally clamp down slightly on your pussy lips & that plunges you to your first orgasm of the night & your hips completely raise off his face from the overstimulation as your orgasm squirts out of you, soaking his face & hair, dripping off onto your now wet couch & he has to forcefully kickstart his brain & pulls you off his cock as your body stops tensing up so much.

"S-sorry, didn't know I c-could even do tha-" you whimper, panting. "Heyyyy don't apologise, that's the hottest thing I have ever ever seen." Felix cuts you off before he kisses you, your own orgasm now transferring onto your face & you groan into his lips at such a dirty yet hot act.

"You wanna keep going? We don't need to or anything, no pressure!" He blabbers out, glossy eyes looking into your completely blown out ones. "You can actually keep going? I'm surprised, follow me." You respond, giving him a cheeky smile as you use all your strength to properly balance yourself as you stand up & take Felix's hand, giggling as you lead him across your vanilla smelling apartment, the naked, cum soaked & sweaty blonde following your lead, letting his other hand wander over your frame, holding your waist & giving your ass a spank.

Felix kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, only taking a second to admire the decorations in your bedroom before he is plopping you on the bed & getting on top of you, his hand resting on the bed beside your head as he uses his other hand to start toying with your clit gently, not wanting to overstimulate you too much & your hips thrust towards his fingers on instinct.

"Put it in, Felix, please, want it inside." you purr, your hand grazing over his abs with your nails before grabbing onto his still hard cock & pumping it slowly, it still being wet with your spit & his hips jerk into your hand, a growl coming from his chest, spit almost leaving his lips.

"Really? Your cunt seems more than happy with just my finger, soaking for me." he smirks as he bites his bottom lip, trying to not let his own moan slip out from how turned on he actually is as he speeds up his motion on your clit in a messy manner, the wetness making his fingers slightly slip. "Please Lix, don't you want it?" you ask as a rhetorical question as your breath is staggering, trying to get more friction from his small fingers & Felix chuckles lightly as he begins blushing.

"You got a con-" "just use it without, I'm on the pill, promise." you speak up, a convincing look in your eyes. Felix nods & tries to compose himself with the nerves, honestly scared if he is gonna cum almost instantly.

He spreads your legs a bit further with his knee as he leans backwards on his knees, his cock poking the inside of your thigh as he kisses the parts of your legs he can reach while you're holding them & you melt into his kisses. "You're so pretty, want you to myself." he murmurs, mostly to himself but he doesn't take his eyes off yours & your ears turn as red as your cheeks.

"Then take me, I'm waiting on you." you remark, biting your lip as you smile up at him, silently praying his cock will slip inside you & not just poke against it. Felix's freckles become surrounded by a rosey colour & he moves his cock with his hand & drags it up & down your folds, making you both sigh in contempt.

You can both hear the light squelching sounds as his cock grinds through your wetness & it bumps against your clit every time his cock moves, making you grow beyond impatient & you reach down to try nudge his penis but he swats your hand away before you can reach it.

"Don't be so pushy, I'm about to cum as it is." he half jokes & you giggle at his words & he returns the action as he lets a glob of spit fall directly onto your cunt & it clenches around air as it dribbles down your clit & Felix sighs to himself at the sight as he pumps himself few times, slowly before he aligns himself up & slowly pushes himself inside until his balls hit against your skin & he whines as he feels your warmth, taking in the feeling of how tight & wet you still are despite an orgasm.

Your toes curl as he buries himself to the hilt, him filling you in such a delicious way, not too deep that it's uncomfortable but you can still feel it already snuggled up against your G-spot & you're honestly surprised he hasn't came yet with how desperate he's been all night.

"You're filling me up so well Lixie, m-move please." you plead & Felix has to take a moment to collect himself, he is honestly shocked that you have lasted this long, usually, the very few girls he has been with & his one short term ex would be falling asleep after giving him one orgasm or two maximum, not letting him to fully ever tire himself out so for someone he has met online only no longer than ten days ago who is actually able to keep up with him, he thinks it's a complete match made in heaven & he thinks his endless prayers have been answered.

Felix holds his breath as he moves his hips backwards before pushing back in, watching your face before picking up the pace. "Y-you look so pretty, p-perfect tits." he babbles as he stares at them, his eyes switching between your face & your boobs bouncing with each thrust, his lips parted & also shiny with his spit from where he has been constantly licking at them, his bottom one a bit redder than the top from where he has been nibbling at it all night.

"Go harder, p-please, you're s-so beauti, fuck." you stutter, your fingers reaching to pinch your nipples, your eyes going cross eyed, your pussy completely gushing wetness around Felix's base, clenching uncontrollably.

Felix growls at your words as he picks up his pace & he lets out a high pitched squeal as he pulls out & cums, it landing all over your lower stomach & a few drops landing just under your tits.

Felix pants & you remove one of your hands from your nipple & drag it down to smother the tip of your fingers in his orgasm & you hold it up to his lips & he looks down at you, a devilish look in his eyes as he opens his mouth that tiny bit extra to accept your fingers & you both hum in unison as he swallows around your fingers, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

You both don't break away eye contact as you flip you both over so you're now straddling him & Felix realises he is actually getting softer after orgasms & he basically has heart shaped eyes. "Still hard? You really are inane, match made in heaven." you purr, slightly repositioning so your bare cunt is resting on his slightly softened cock, but it really doesn't take long for it to get hard enough again as your pussy snuggs itself right on top of it.

"I told you I can go all night, You're just too good." He replies, his blonde hair wet with sweat & sticking to his pretty face & you hum at his words. "Do you think you can handle one more, hmm?" you ask, already reaching back to fondle his balls again & he nods instantly, his facial expression going back to a needy, desperate one straight away & you can't help but giggle as you pick up his pretty, red cock in your hand again before sinking back down onto your new favourite thing you've ever touched or saw.

You sink back down until your bodies fully connect & a shiver shoots up your spine & you let out a broken hum as you use whatever strength you somehow have to begin moving your hips in a comfortable way as you begin bouncing, laying your hands on Felix's abs for support, not failing to admire how good they look & feel.

"Holy shit, like-just like that y/n, why are you s-so good, shoulda met way-s-sooner" he rambles as his hands become restless, dragging over your ass, tummy, waist, tits & he drags his fingers over your nipples, making you hiss at the feeling.

"Cum with me, mkay? Paint me inside too, dare ya" you cry, your eyes struggling to stay open as you have to physically stop yourself from flopping forwards but its no use as he latches his arms around your back & pulls you towards him & plants his feet to the floor & uses the rest of his little energy to begin fucking up into you at a harsh pace, making you squeal.

You unbury your face from his neck & you lock lips with him & you both exchange drool, it having a slightly salty taste from his own cum he suckled from your digits just a few minutes ago as felix starts to rub over your left nipple, pinching it & it makes you yelp.

You begin clenching uncontrollably & you start to struggle to kiss him back & your legs begin to feel like jelly & start to give out & if it wasn't for felix basically holding you in place you wouldn't even be moving. "F-felix, fuck, yes! go'n cum, s-so-too good" you wail, your eyes scrunched together as you break your lips apart due to none of you actually being able to breathe, both of your lips a way darker shade, your lips & chins covered in each others drool by this point.

"Cum inside? It's comi-coming, s-shit, you g-gonna take it all?" he stutters, his brain trying its hardest to float away & he is basically forcing himself to keep even a single thought inside. "yes, please, please pl-please! I'll be so good, keep it in for you, c-can eat it out me later" you respond, your pussy dripping a white ring around his base, soaking his pubes.

"G- such a good g-girl, it's c-coming, cumming." He screeches in s raspy voice & as his cock pulsates in you as his balls drain that little bit extra & as you feel another few thick ropes up into your cervix, your own orgasm pours over you like a bucket of cold water & you let out a shriek as your entire body begins shaking in his hold & you throw your head against him & you bite into his shoulder, making him whine as his hips slow down.

You both stay like this for a minute, just catching your breath back for the most part, but you can't really help but enjoy listening to his heart racing inside his chest.

Felix slowly pulls his now actually softening cock out of you, a few droplets of both his cum & your own wetness dripping back onto his pelvis & he wraps his arms around you but then moves them down to his sides. "Are you sue you wanna hug? I-i don't need aftercare if you don't wanna do that, I know it was just casual sex." he says in a soft voice, sounding a bit upset despite trying to sound casual.

You pick your head up & look down at his pretty face & see the slight pout & confused look on your face & you 'tut' at him jokingly before you wriggle your hand under his neck & rub your nose against his neck. "Don't be so silly, Lix, i'll not just leave you after you just had four orgasms, I'll get you some water n stuff once my breath is back." you reply, weaving the hand that's resting under his neck into his soft but wet hair & fiddle with it in your fingers.

Despite you not being able to see it, Felix can't help but smile at your words as he returns his arms around you & relaxes a lot more. "You're a softie, who woulda thought. I've never had anyone or anything make me actually fully enjoy an orgasm until tonight, I'm actually drained for the first time ever." he chuckles & you can't stop yourself from softly giggling. "Glad to hear, I'm actually exhausted though so we aren't going again till I get feeling back in my body." Felix simpers at your words & nods his head.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Felix doesn't stay the night, him not wanting to overstay & you not knowing if you should ask him or not, thinking it was too intimate to do so.

Felix leaves after another hour or so, you fed him some cereal as it was all you could be bothered to make & you gave him a bottle of water & he dug through your drawers to find some sleep clothes & helped you clean up with a damp towel from your bathroom.

You both agreed to stay in contact with each other, for sexual reasons... obviously, but you both start sending each other memes, random photos of things Felix bakes, pretty flowers you walk past on your way to work & so on... that's how its all started for you both.

A/N: I think I liked the idea of this more than it actually turned on so I'm sorry if I haven't done this as much justice as I could have done, I've been going through a lot lately with a lot of personal issues & I got admitted so I'm also sorry for not being active, I'm gonna get back on track soon enough. I have a lot of requests & I am trying to get around to them so please just be patient, feel free to send me thoughts/asks but thoughts get published first since they're a lot smaller. I hope you all enjoyed this piece though if you've reached this far<3

->Anon list: Open!

->Taglist: Open!

[raven-unkind]

��♱✮♱⋆ D is for delightful (part 2)

Ni-ki Nishimura x fem!reader

wc. 1.9k words

summary: after pairing up with a slytherin for a potion project, you somehow find yourself unable to tear away from him  

tw. fem!reader, reader is implied to be a gryffindor, enha and giselle (my beautiful gorgeous queen 😫🧎🏻‍♀️) mentioned and all implied to be Slytherins, party & mention of minors drinking and smoking.

a/n. I didn't know what to choose for his cologne so I looked up what parfum ni-ki wears (i felt like a fucking creep 😭) say someone said it was a Jo Malone basil mandarin perfume so yeah 😁

part 1

Quidditch season has its way of bringing students of the same house together. No matter your opinion on your fellow housemates, quidditch is quidditch. Heading down to the great Hall for breakfast, you can feel the excitement of the first match of the season; Ravenclaw against Slytherin. You sit down at the Gryffindor table, serving yourself some porridge, fruits and a cup of coffee. As you start eating, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn around, met with Ni-ki, a cocky smirk adoring his face. “We’re hosting a party tonight after the match, wanna come?” You knit your brows. “Already planning a party? You didn't even win yet?” He flashes you a confident smile. “Winning is guaranteed, Ravenclaw’s team isn't winning anytime soon.” You snort, teasing him. “Nah y’all are gonna lose.” 

Ni-ki gasps dramatically at your response, clutching his heart, pretending to be in great physical pain. “How dare you. Do you have no faith in me???” You laugh at his dramatic antics. “Are they even gonna let you play? You skipped detention the whole week.” Ni-ki grins slyly at you, as if you had asked an absurd question. “Of course they’ll let me play, I'm the best chaser we’ve got.” He says cockily, earning himself a glare from Jake. “Besides, I’ve already got out of those detentions with a little help from Jay, no need to worry.” You roll your eyes, serving yourself another cup of coffee. “Please don't bring Jay into your shit…” You look around, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy. “Jay isn't even here, is he still asleep???” Heeseung pipes up. “He's up, probably still under the shower.” You nod. “You better catch the snitch quickly, it's cold as shit outside.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at your comment and scoffs. “Don't tell me what to do, I'll catch it at my own pace.” You sigh, already regretting not bringing something hotter against the cold november weather. Before anyone can add anything, Jay arrives, greeting everyone with a nod. “Well well well, look who decided to join us…” At Jay’s arrival, you decide to take your plate and cup, sitting down at the Slytherin table. Jake smiles, knocking your shoulder with his. “Finally decided to join us huh?” You nod, swallowing your food. You glance to your right, Jay still standing up, half asleep. You pat the spot next to you. “Sit down and eat. You have 10 minutes before you guys have to leave.” Jay’s eyes meet yours, he nods and takes the stop next to you, you serve him a cup of coffee and Jungwon starts piling up food on his plate. Jay blinks a couple of times, trying to chase the fatigue. “How are you so… hyper this morning?” “This is actually my fourth cup of coffee.” Jay shakes his head, mumbling something that sounds like Lord have mercy under his breath. Sunoo, who was uncharacteristically quiet, finally pipes up “If we win, will you come to the party Y/n?” Ni-ki sends him a look “You mean WHEN we win.” “Of course I will” You smile and glance at Ni-ki who's already looking at you.

The next few minutes are spent by Heeseung, Sunghoon, Ni-ki and Jake discussing the best way to beat ravenclaw – in the most humiliating way possible – Jay nodding along, playing with the food on his plate. They leave in a hurry to get changed in their quidditch robes. Jungwon gets up and starts heading to the quidditch area, you and Sunoo following. The three of you head out of the school, the freezing November breeze making you shiver. Tucking your face into your scarf you decide now is the perfect time to talk. “I am NOT lasting ‘til the end of the year, Nishimura is gonna be the death of me.” Sunoo laughs, as if he was expecting you to bring up Ni-ki, Jungwon on the other hand looks concerned considering how much you ramble about him. “May I ask why Nishimura out of all people is gonna be the death of you?” He inquired, his voice tinged with playful judgment. You flash him an apologetic smile and start gushing about Ni-ki. “Did you see how he looked at me earlier??? I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. I don't know if I wanna punch him or eat him up-” Sunoo grabs your arm, a delighted laugh escaping his lips, as Jungwon gives you a weirded out look – he's not quite sure what you mean by that. 

—————————————

The match finally came to an end, Slytherin completely obliterating Ravenclaw with a whooping 250 to 50. You meet up with the rest of the group in the Great Hall for dinner. “Ni-ki that goal was something else, I mean throwing the quaffle all the way from the Slytherin goalpost and scoring? It was amazing.” Jake nods in agreement, headlocking Ni-ki, ruffling his hair. “You were insane out there mate, I didn't expect you to score like that.” Ni-ki finally getting out of Jake’s tight grip, he smirks at you. “Told ya we were gonna win. Now you better come to the party angel” You roll your eyes trying to ignore how your stomach seems to be doing cartwheels because of a simple pet name. Giselle, a friend you made since you started hanging out with Slytherins smiles at you “Wanna get ready together? You can bring your dress with you so we can get ready in my room!” “Okay!”

—————————————

“You look great.” You make eye contact with Giselle through the bathroom mirror, adding some mascara to your lower lashes. You’re wearing a black slip dress, with black heels and your hair is down. You smile. “Thanks Giselle, I love your dress by the way. It's so cute!” Giselle smiles, tugging her loose soft pink hair behind her ear before crouching down to put on her heels. You let out a yawn, feeling the lack of sleep of last night – as well as the caffeine crash – getting to you. You set the mascara tube down, giving yourself one last once over, before heading into the Slytherin common room with Giselle. As you both get down to the common room, Giselle whispers “Go get your man.” in your ear. The party is in full swing, music blaring and people drinking and dancing everywhere. The room is dimly lit with Slytherin color, the atmosphere lively and electric. In the sea of partying students, you spot Ni-ki, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. He spots you too, greeting you with a hug. “Hey, nice dress” He speaks loudly, trying to make himself heard over the loud music. He hands you a drink. “Thanks! Giselle kinda left me. Do you know where she went?” Ni-ki looks around, trying to find her. He taps your shoulder, giving you a shrug. “I can't see her sorry angel.” He pauses, taking a hit of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into rings. He smirks, eyes roaming around your body. “Seems like you’re stuck with me sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, unable to meet his – suddenly finding the content of the drink he had handed you interesting. 

You take a sip of your drink, face scrunching at the taste of alcohol burning your throat. You turn back to look at Ni-ki, only to find him already looking at you. It's not the way he usually looks at you, with mischief because saying or doing something that would get him in trouble, there’s something different in those eyes and it seems whatever changed somehow makes you even more drawn to him. You can already feel your body loosening up, the alcohol making its way in your system. You grab the half burned cigarette from his grasp, taking a hit. There's a hint of surprise in Ni-ki’s expression, that's quickly replaced by delight and something else you can't quite place your finger on. 

—————————————

You are not God's strongest soldier. Three drinks in and you somehow found yourself resting your head on Ni-ki’s chest, arms around his waist, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other holding onto his – technically yours since he stole it – drink. The scent of his cologne – a citrus and amber-like scent– filling your nostrils. The party is still raging, people everywhere and it doesn't seem to stop anything soon. Ni-ki gently whispers in your ear. “Hey sweetheart can't have you falling asleep on me, why don't you call it a night huh?” – You can practically hear the small smirk that must be forming on his face by now – You distance yourself from him, just enough to see his face. His eyes find yours and he smiles. It's a smile you could get used to seeing – it's sweet and it makes you believe you might actually have a chance with the boy – you nod, silently agreeing to call if for today. “Mkay… I'll go to sleep.” Maybe it was because of the smile he’d flashed or maybe it had only to do with the alcohol you had, but you get on your tiptoes, kissing him goodnight. “I think you missed darling, you must be very drunk if you don't know where my lips are.” Its harmless teasing really, usually a simple eye roll to brush it off would have done the trick. But today, you decide that yes, maybe you should kiss him if it means he’ll finally realize you’d like to be the only one he flirts with, the only one he kisses. And so you roll your eyes, “You’re so demanding Nishimura, you’re lucky I love you.” and kiss him. It’s sweet, you can taste the lingering taste of the alcohol on his lips. He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours and you're suddenly aware of what you're doing. You break the kiss and mumble a quick “Good night.” before heading upstairs, crashing in Giselle’s room

—————————————

Drinking was not a good idea. At all. Whatever was in the drinks, it was strong, strong enough that you find yourself waking up the next morning having absolutely no recollection of why you were not in your bed. You can tell Giselle is in bed by the steady sound of breathing behind you. You try getting up an arm wrapping around your waist, someone snuggling into you. You freeze, turning your head slightly – to your surprise Ni-ki is behind you, still asleep. “Hm Ni-ki? Wake up.” You try shaking him awake. He makes a noise between a groan and moan but he opens his eyes, taking you in. “What?” His voice is still laced with sleep, deeper than usual. You look at him bewildered, wondering how he could be so calm. “What??? What do you mean ‘what’??? What the fuck are you doing in Giselle’s room and why are you sleeping next to me???” Now it’s Ni-ki’s turn to look confused. He props himself on his elbow. “Hey hey hey, calm down princess, I'll have you know last night you crashed in MY room, and I need my beauty sleep so I slept in my bed. I was sure you wouldn't mind… You know since you love me.” he adds teasingly. Oh the bastard. You can already feel your cheeks flustered and unfortunately for you, the memories of last night are finally becoming clearer. And you can clearly remember not only telling him you loved him but the feel of his lips against yours. You blink trying to chase the memory from your mind. “I- ok maybe I do. But so what?” He smiles as if he knew you would say something like that. “I was thinking about asking you out so that we could share our first kiss more… romantic setting but looks like you beat me to it angel.” “Oh shut up Nishimura.” He smirks. “So, can I be your boyfriend?” “Yes”

©RAVEN-UNKIND

reblog, comments and likes are appreciated!

[tbhyknow2]

SAKURA AS YOUR BOYFRIEND!

notes﹒ related to him too bad, accidentally fell in love and now we're here. (headcanons)

contents and warnings﹒ fluff, slight ooc!sakura, the most tamest writing i have ever wrote so. doesn't need any warnings. (still pretty new to windbre so!!)

› return to nav?

✦ Somehow, some way, you became his lover! His first partner, may I add, because we all know this boy hasn't been into the romance scene before.

✦ He's still a bit of a tsundere when it comes to showing his care for someone, but when it comes to you, he tries hard to show how much he loves you, in his own little way.

✦ Might ask other people around him on how to treat you right, but will get defensive immediately when they tease him about it. Thinks he's also real subtle about it too.

✦ Walks you home, so no body messes with you. If he's feeling brave, he'll even put an arm 'round your shoulder to let people know that you're his— Not in a possessive way, more like "If you rock their shit, I'll rock yours ten times." wayn

✦ Also glares at anyone he deems suspicious or stares a bit too long.

✦ Shares his food sometimes, even though he's grumbling and complaining while he does so. It's a bit cute, seeing him push his food to you and looking away, so you don't see his flustered face. Will yell at you if you tease him and threaten to take back his offer.

✦ Easily flustered and jumpy, especially when you do something that makes his heart skip a beat... which is everything you do. Little guy gets so mesmerized when you smile at him so warmly, call his name with so much excitement and love, or even when you're tending to his injures or doing your own thing.

✦ He yells and shouts a lot whenever you do it in public though, but behind closed doors, he's surprisingly calm and just watches you.

✦ Lovingly calls you insulting nicknames because he's just into that 'lovely dovey shit' or as he puts it. And it just feels more natural to his character. He tries though, terribly, but it's the thought that counts.

✦ There are some times where his own insecurities come bubbling up again, afraid that you'll leave him and find someone who's less brash and more gentle... But it goes away when he sees you being so happy around him and all he could focus on is how much his heart is swelling that he felt like it'll explode.

✦ If you ever try to scold him for being careless, he'll complain and brush you off, but will actually start listening to you. Whether by his own will or subconsciously.

✦ At random moments when he suddenly thinks of you, he suddenly turns red and freezes up on the spot. You have that effect on him, even when you're not around.

✦ Whenever you gift him something, he'll probably start at him for a while. He doesn't know how to react when someone gives him something, especially out of love and affection. Would probably have a heart attack on the spot.

✦ All the gifts you give him (actual materials like clothes, accessories, etc.) are kept well and safe. Jewelry? He keeps patting it where he has it hanging on to ensure its still there, takes it off or tucks it inside his clothes when he goes on a fight. Clothes? Might get a little dirty, but will (try) wash it until it's all pristine. If anyone rips it, he'll give them the worst kind of hell.

[skelliko]

Hey skelli! could u write random hcs about rindou and ran as tn's best friends using school theme? If u can, of course nd thank u!

Rindou & Ran Haitani |-° being your best friend's

• being best friends with the Haitani brothers means no one will attempt to bother you. They're basically your protectors/ escape card in almost any situation involving another person

• encourages you to ditch class and roam around the hallways and other places that they had discovered on school grounds

• in some classes ran is forced to sit at the front of the class because of his poor eye sight, other times he has to peek over your desk to copy down what's on the board

• being best friends with the Haitians means constant trips to detention and constant complaints by the teachers cause of skipping detention.

- if something is done behind the teachers back and no one snitches, the teach immediately assumes that it's one of you three even despite trying your best to prove that it wasn't. half of the time y'all are framed

• the Haitians are actually pretty educated, majority of the times their calm in class and it's just that their gang fame and title that always makes them be perceived as a stereotypical 'delinquent that doesn't do well in school'

• rindou somehow always knows the drama that goes on between everyone, every week he always has something new to add on to the previous information that he had gotten or something completely different about a person that you wouldn't expect

• friendly banter but also be prepared to somehow get humiliated either way

• Rindou secretly keeps one earbud in his ear in lessons to listen to music. he has his wired earphones inside of his sleeve and his hand against his face where he then hides the earbud under his hand/hair

• notes will be thrown onto your desk in the middle of class, thinking that something would be written in it you'd open it but instead there's just a childish drawing of you that ran did whilst he was bored

• you have a crush on someone in school? don't worry cause you have ran and rindou to either help you with getting close to your crush or completely ruining it.

• despite ran being practically engaged to his bed and always sleeping- he still complains how tired he is in the mornings and trust, that guy is not a morning person so he gets pissed off at the loud annoying kids that are already running in the halls.

- ran is a fast paced guy whereas Rindou likes to take his time with romance, so asking ran for advice he'd probably tell you to immediately ask them out. but with Rindou he'd tell you to do something that's easier said than done "just talk to them"

- whereas for Rindou despite him being sleep deprived from his lack of sleep routine, he complains the least in the mornings and just goes along with the mornings. though the darkness under his eyes are certainly there under some bright light

• due to the Haitians being popular among the people, there's definitely some thirsty people for them. meaning you'd hear many different stories on how obsessive someone got, how they broke someone's heart, and how much privilege they get. sometimes you even get to read confession letter before they do.

- but cause of your connection to them, you'd be asked favours for other people in terms of "can you tell rindou/ran..." "does rindou/ran...?" "do you know if he...?" ect.

• they always got some sort of insult to say about the teacher, but it's okay cause no one likes them. their insults are pretty creative too, makes you not want to know what they'd say about you if y'all never got along

• ran sometimes purposely 'forgets' his money/food just to steal you's and rindou's lunches instead

• the threatening jokes about telling everyone an embarrassing story about either of you circles around you three on a weekly baisis

• you had a failed relationship? your ex will definitely wish they had done better. it may seem like a good thing but anyone inside of the school that knows your friendly relationship with the haitani brothers; it'll cause some people to avoid you and not in a good way, guess thats a downside.

• the best way to get rindou annoyed immediately would be if you get his glasses dirty by simply pressing your finger print against the lens. its better when he's not wearing them cause it's be easier to smudge them due to him having good reflexes when it comes to people getting too close to him

• little play fights here and there in the hallway that makes the three of you to dash it down the halls and get complaints from the teachers from how loud your echoed running is. it's not often, but when it happens it's hilarious and it usually starts off with some teasing.

• if you're not smart in a subject that they're smart in then be prepared to be teased whilst you copy down their answers of the work you didn't do, cause of their comments you gotta concentrate real hard and ignore their comments to copy the work down, but then one of them would playfully move their book/page across to irritate you

• their handwriting fluctuates a lot in school, sometimes you gotta ask what kind of curse are they trying to write down in their note book. but outside of school where they're not rushed or bored out of their mind- it's pretty neat

• sometimes fights break out between the Haitani brothers and some other delinquents trying to aim for the top, meaning your either pulled/pushed away from the scene or you manage to join in but that's only if it's in a large amount (2 Vs 20) but if it's a small amount (2 Vs 5) then itd be over within a minute and yall go back to doing whatever you were doing before

- it sometimes does ruin some plans that you guys have made causing some shared complaints and irritation

 ♡---

[thisismeracing]

Heartdresser | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x braider!reader ― Warning: mentions of a brother, social media au mixed with regular writing, tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader (she/her); - 2.8k words + social media setting. ― Summary: When Lewis finds himself just a couple days away from a racing weekend and without his usual braids he desperately searches for suggestions of available hairdressers in the area. As the saying goes, love can come from the most unexpected places, and Lewis is about to discover that this is, in fact, true. (based on this request)

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Being a Formula One Driver had its perks, from obvious and big things such as traveling everywhere to not-so-obvious and small things like having your hair stylist travel to you when you needed them. After becoming an adult and famous, it took Lewis a couple of years to come to terms with his hair, how to style it, how to take care of it, and how to embrace the texture and volume. He felt finally whole when he reached that point, one where meaningless comments on the internet wouldn’t make him rethink his path, goals, and achievements. Of course, comments hurt, but being comfortable with yourself helped, and that was something Lewis learned. 

Now, his braids were part of him. The hairstyle being associated with his image in the blink of an eye. Something that made him feel handsome, and connected with his roots. Something that seemed to help other young black boys around, who started to see themselves as stylish and handsome too.

That’s the main reason why he was so frustrated when his braider called him to tell them they couldn’t make it to Las Vegas. And the thing with braids is that it's not only a style that connects you to your roots, and makes you feel comfortable, it is also a hair protection style. Though Lewis doesn’t tell people he has superstitions and somehow it is true, part of him feels like he races better when he’s feeling himself in all senses of the word. This means having his hair in the braids he’s been looking forward to for over two weeks is something important to him.

So in the heat of the moment, he decides to look for help on Twitter.

“Hi, you must be Lewis,” you smile, extending your hands, and the man in front of you takes it in with a grin. 

“Hey, good afternoon,” his grip is still thigh yet soft on your hand. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank you for having me on such short notice.” He’s handsome and polite in all the ways one should be to be considered perfect, and you start to understand why your baby brother was drawn to admire his persona outside the tracks. 

You shake your head with a chuckle, “It was actually my day off, but I had no problem fitting you in since it meant Dee would get to meet you.”

“Oh- honesty is something I find hot,” he chuckles and adds a grin for good measure, all while looking straight into your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

Add funny to the list of things Lewis Hamilton seems to be. 

“Who’s Dee, by the way?” 

“It’s Aiyden, my little brother. I call him Dee,” you explain before adding, “He’s finishing a Chemistry project with a few friends at school. He was tempted to skip but gave up after a pep talk on how school is important, and I would take forever doing your hair just so he could see you.” 

Lewis nods while you explain, and then he’s chuckling just like minutes ago. 

“I don’t mind waiting for him with you,” he winks.

You’re not sure if he’s being friendly, funny, or flirty, but any of these F words coming from the black guy in front of you are surely making your heart skip a beat. 

“You can sit here while I grab everything,” you point to a chair in front of a big mirror and Lewis does as said. 

“Your hair looks fire,” he comments, watching from the mirror while you go through the small saloon gathering the packs of hair and combs you would need. “Did you do it yourself?” 

“Thanks,” you stop just for a second, smiling when your eyes meet. “And yeah, I did it just last weekend.”

“You look even more stunning with this style,” and just like that he has you giggling again. “I mean it. I saw your profile picture and I was convinced you couldn’t get more beautiful, and then you opened that door with a smile and these amazing braids and I was like wow.” “You’re a funny one.”

“I’ve heard some women like their man funny, is that your case? If so, I’m ready to get into stand-up comedy.” 

You double with laughter, shaking your head and biting your lips to keep the funny noises inside.

“Same style you’ve sent me the picture?” Lewis nods. “Any addition or preference?” you ask, starting to section his hair, and he answers no while making himself comfortable on the chair.

And even though you joked about taking forever just so your brother would catch Lewis, you ended up really taking forever because the driver in front of you would joke around and give you flirty comments and you couldn’t help but stop to laugh. The style he wanted was fairly fast, and his curls weren’t that thick, but still, you two did a small snack break when he ordered from a vegan bakery downtown. He was a fun guy to talk to, you came to learn that pretty quickly, which only added to his face card, which certainly was never denied. 

It was one of the best sessions you’ve had in a long time.

You were just finishing the final touches, adding water to boil, and cutting the small strands coming off the braids, when the bell over the door rang, announcing your little brother’s arrival. He has an incredulous expression on his face watching his idol sitting on the chair of his sister’s salon. 

“Hey man, how was the chem’s project?” Lewis asks and Aiyden turns around to the door, doing a small victory dance and, probably, the most hideous expressions to conceal his eagerness and happiness. 

You and Lewis laugh.

“Omg, hi, Lewis!” He finally walks to you, shaking hands with Lewis. His eyes – big orbs gleaming with excitement. 

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your sister, young man?” with your hands on your waist you furrow your brows in the direction of the curly-haired boy who smiles, engulfing your body in a big hug. You hug him back before tapping his back and fake complaining about how he was crushing you. 

Aiyden had just turned fifteen, but his love for sports seemed to help him defy your DNA and grow more than your family’s average size. He was almost reaching your height, and he sure was stronger than you, but he was still just your baby boy. 

“These new braids are lit, man! Told ya my sister would make it happen,” Ayiden, who still has one of his arms around your shoulders, tells Lewis with a proud smile.

The driver moves his head confidently checking his hair in the mirror, “She was a great braider, and even better company, to be honest.” 

Yn rolls her eyes playfully before going back to the water and mentioning for Ayiden to take a step back. She dips the ends of the braids into the water, waiting for a bit before taking them off and draping a towel around Lewis’ broad shoulders. 

“So, your sister mentioned a chem school project. How was it?” 

And just like that Ayiden and Lewis are talking non-stop while you tidy the salon, watching their interaction with a fond smile. The Brit was attentive to your brother, always ready to listen rather than speak, always engaging, and making Ayiden feel comfortable to share whatever he wanted to. 

He probably had no idea, but that was an easy way to get to your heart. Ayiden was your treasure, and the fact that Lewis was treating the boy as if he was his little treasure too only added to the list of things you found amazing about him.

“...right, Yn?” Dee asked and you snapped out of your daydream.

“What?”

“Lewis just invited us to the Vegas GP, I said we were going, right? Please, please, please,” he pleaded in front of you with his two hands together as if in prayer, and you bit the inside of your mouth.

“Sunday?” 

“No, the whole package, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!” he explained excitedly.

“It will be fun, c’mon,” Lewis tried.

“You have school on Friday.” You reasoned, but Ayiden was quick to explain that Friday wouldn’t be until 6 pm. “You’re the one asking Kali to get my appointments from Saturday,” pointing a finger to your brother you accepted, knowing that your friend and coworker, had a space on Saturday for a hair or two and wouldn’t mind covering so your clients wouldn’t be hanging out to dry. Still, she would probably huff and yapp before accepting. That was something that Ayiden would now deal with though, so you were all good. 

Ayiden jumped up and down the same way he did when he was ten years old asking you to get him a new pair of soccer jerseys, and you accepted. It was endearing.

You talked for a few more minutes, Ayiden got his picture, and just like that Lewis was saying his farewells. This time he didn’t shake your hands, rather hugged you and you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent and relish his warmth.

“See you on Friday, guys,” he waved, showing off his perfect set of teeth. 

“See you, man!” 

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton, youngdee, and others

yourinstagram had to drive the kiddo to school today or else he would stay home choosing his weekend outfits lol (traffic is a bitch btw, so if you can avoid downtown, pls do!)

view all comments

youngdee why would you expose me like that

⤷ yourinstagram I'm your older sister, ofc I'm gonna act like a mom ❤️😘

lewishamilton nice fit, ayideen!

⤷ youngdee thank you, man! 😎

⤷ fan4490 OMG KJSDKGJSKG

charleslechair she looks so cute

⤷ charleslechair scratch that I just went through her pics

⤷ charleslechair she's hot

⤷ charleslechair and super talented

wolffmickey so its confirmed, she's the braider?

schumachinho *on my knees begging* pls, do my hair too, yn, pls pls 🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️

yourfriend I spent an hour on traffic today in a road that usually takes me about ten minutes 🫠

yourfriend2 bruh, ayideen is getting bigger and bigger, I feel OLD 😭

Friday rolled around quickly and you got to watch the total amount of fifteen minutes of practice 1 before all hell broke. Ayiden explained everything to you along with the whole controversy going on with the LA Gran Prix, which you were just a tad aware of. Lewis wasn’t able to spend much time with you guys that much was expected, but whenever he found a few seconds he would pass by, ask if you guys were ok, if Dee was having fun if there was something he could do, and just overall being the goofy Lewis he was during the appointment. Ayiden seemed to find the flirtatious glances and lines funny, and so did you, except this time it felt a little more real because you were sure a few people around overheard some. 

It was an amazing night, you made friends with a couple of people from the crew, and Ayiden had the time of his life meeting a few other idols, and almost started hyperventilating when Hamilton told him he would take him to meet Charles Leclerc on Sunday. 

Saturday was even more of a rush, you almost didn’t see Lewis, but he texted before and after quali. So when Sunday came you were still trying to navigate the whole paddock thing, but a bit more comfortable about it. Aiyden was still acting as if it was his own version of Disney land and it was his first day discovering the adventure world. You were loving it for him, of course. 

“Nice outfit,” Lewis whispers right beside you, catching you off guard and making you jump in surprise. You were in a corner, just texting a friend, and checking your next few appointments while Ayiden went to meet Charles and you thought Lewis would be there until he came back, but it wasn’t the case.

“You’re sneaky,” you chuckled, straightening your instance and looking into his face only to notice he was already staring at you. 

“You look cute when you’re focused,” he winks, before adding, “and when you’re scared too.” 

“You look cute when you joke like this,” throwing back at him you didn’t expect for his brows to furrow in confusion. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Lewis giggles. He giggles and you can’t help but smile with the sound and the way his lips part while his eyes squint. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?!” 

“I think you’re pretty and smart, and talented. I was genuinely flirting with you,” his explanation makes your insides turn in giddiness, and as if it wasn’t enough Lewis smiles, eyes glued on yours before he asks: “Wanna go on a date with me?” 

“A date?” You repeat trying to let the idea sink. 

“A date?” This time it’s Ayiden’s voice and you turn alarmed, expecting to see a confused and jealous brother, only to find him with the biggest grin ever.

“Yeah, a date,” Lewis smiles briefly to Ayiden, before staring back at you, waiting for your answer.

You blink still unsure. Fair enough, he was hot, educated, smart, and he checked all the boxes, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a successful relationship, or fling, or whatever he had in mind. And also, his lifestyle wasn’t something you were used to. How would dating him work when he’s often traveling around to drive?

“C’mon, don’t overthink it, Yn.” Ayiden comes to help, standing beside Lewis and the Brit chuckles. “It’s THE SIR Lewis Hamilton,” he points, and this time Lewis laughs. 

You bit your lips, not helping but letting a smile escape. 

Lewis is in front of you, hands in his pockets, big brown eyes watching you, and the smallest smile gracing the corner of his plump lips. He looked great. And as much as you wanted to deny, there was a vibe going on. 

You take a deep breath, smirking at him, “Get yourself a podium and we’ll talk about a date later.”  

Ayiden’s eyes widened. 

“Did you forget how quali went?! It’s gonna be hell to get a podium, almost impossible,” your brother tries to reason, but Lewis shakes his head, extending his hand to which you clasp in yours.

“Deal,” the driver smiles. “I’ll get you a podium.”

Lewis squeezes Ayiden’s shoulder and winks at you before disappearing into the garage to get ready for the race.

“One more reason why he’s the goat, see? If I were you I would go on a date with him even if he didn’t get a podium.” 

You laugh, “For the few things I saw, he likes the challenge. Let me indulge him.” 

“You’re crazy.”

“And he’ll get a podium.” 

“It’s very unlikely, but I won’t deny the possibility. It’s Lewis after all.” Your brother leans on the wall beside you. “And it looks like he wants this date bad.” 

“What makes you think this?” 

“C’mon, he��s been flirting with you nonstop since the hair appointment.” 

“I genuinely thought he was joking.” 

“You can be so clueless sometimes,” your brother rolls his eyes playfully and you slap the back of his head. 

“Watch it, young man, I’m still the oldest.” 

And you were still right too, because hours later Lewis impressed everyone by getting third place. He kept everyone on the edge of their seats along with Charles who did a brilliant race, and just like that your brother was grinning devilishly your way because now you had a date with no one other than Lewis Hamilton who happened to walk into the garage just as you were handling a water bottle to Dee after he ran to watch the ceremony as if his life depended on it.

Lewis was smiling brightly at you, sweat mixed with champagne, but you couldn’t help but grin right back and lace your arms around him, taking him by surprise. 

“I’m all sweaty, sorry,” he whispers, his tattooed hand flatting on your bag and bringing your body closer. 

“It’s fine. Congrats on the race.” 

“Congrats on the race, man!” Ayiden hugs him too and Lewis smiles, eyes still trapped on you. When your brother lets him go and stays rooted in place looking from you to Lewis you trap the laugh inside, and roll your eyes fakely, pointing for the young boy to give you both some privacy.

“So, looks like I scored myself a date, huh?” 

You nod, taking a small step in his direction and trying to keep your hands from tracing all the small details on his face from this up close, “You sure did.” Your eyes were now on his lips, and Lewis grinned. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You already have a date, what else do you wanna ask me?” You’re teasing and he knows it because this time he’s the one to take a step in your direction. The tips of your shoes are touching, and you can hear the rustling outside, but it’s just you two in the corridor, and you hope it stays like this for just a little longer even though you knew he had an interview in a few minutes. His company and attention are something you enjoyed having.

“With how many dates do you find it ok to kiss someone?” His playful tone is there, but his expression makes your knees almost buck. “Can we count practice, quali, and the race as dates?” 

And just like that he has you laughing and grabbing his neck to close the distance and smash your lips in a very much-awaited kiss. 

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, lewishamilton, and others

yoursername best date night ever 🤍

comments on this post have been disabled

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @scorpiobleue @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @soph1644 @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[constantlytired101]

Since arcane hype is over , I’m sorry but I genuinely couldn’t care less for isha. I didn’t get attached to her at all.

She popped out of nowhere, literally no backstory whatsoever, we don’t even why she was being followed in the first place. She was conveniently placed there by the plot . Something that didn’t happen in S1 , things happened in S1 for a reason.

She was a walking plot device with a personality of a bad NPC , your average kid character that’s somehow so great she changes the world , a cliché straight up. She was a Cliché.

A very cheap way to water jinx down and make her more stable then used to add more unnecessary trauma to jinx , and that line with the glasses and how isha helped her view the world differently and my first thought was why ? Why is isha so special? What made jinx view the world differently with isha? We’re just gonna say that line and that’s it , no showing or telling anything else.

You just got the responsibility of a life to take care of !, that should stress you out a bit ?!. She reminded her of powder but jinx had a very complicated relationship with powder , we just skip that and have jinx remember powder fondly and be okay , in S1 Vi calling jinx powder or associating her with powder sets her off, a single reminder of young Vi rattled jinx to the core.

Mind you the reminding her of powder part is kind of “ehhh” honestly, isha doesn’t really behave like powder, just that they’re both kids tho isha is much younger than act 1 powder the one jinx remembers.

“Isha didn’t expect anything from jinx that’s why” well I hope you know jinx is expected to take care of isha , isha was expecting and wanted jinx to take on her role of being a symbol.

By the power of love , jinx got cured from her mental instability. No hallucinations!. But it doesn’t really work that way since Silco loved jinx yet she still had hallucinations.

Isha would have felt like an actual character if anyone other than jinx interacted with her . Maybe if she hadn’t been only used to make jinx stable then depressed but an actual good character development for jinx other than “ she made me view the world clearly” like okay?.

Maybe She made jinx realise powder was a kid and there was nothing wrong with her , or had jinx realise that Vi just wanted to protect her and was right on not taking her everywhere, made her feel closer to Vi as she knows how it feels to have someone dependent on you, gave us some character study.

As much as I love the posts saying ”that jinx realised in that moment ( yk which one) that Vi just wanted to protect her” but the show doesn’t establish anything, that’s just speculation on our part. As long as something isn’t shown or told I have no reason to believe it’s true.

It would have been interesting if she was a hallucination made by jinx to cope, a very nice plot twist.

Isha’s role in the story can be easily done by Vi and Silco.

[shaunamilfman]

Being the Captain of the Rival Team HC's

pairing: Jackie Taylor x reader

Jackie hadn't really paid you much attention the first time she saw you. She knew of you, of course, having played your team before, but she'd never really seen you individually. That was, of course, till Shauna fouls you ten minutes into the game and she has to come talk to you. It's love at first sight for Jackie as you lie dazed on the ground with a bloody nose. 

Jackie trying to trash talk you, but being abysmally bad at it. She's not all that skilled at it to begin with, too nice at heart, but she's somehow impossibly worse. She leaves all of those confrontations wincing as she realizes she just showered you in compliments badly disguised as insults. Shauna's in hysterics about it, which certainly doesn't help her mood about it. Huffing all the way back. 

Nearly trips over the ball while warming up because she can't take her eyes off of you. Tai comes marching across the field to yell at her about it and Jackie's just scoffing and glancing around because she can't meet her eyes. 

When it comes to the actual game, trust that she will be playing at absolute peak performance. She's competitive enough as it is before you add in a newly realized desire to impress you. Glances over at you to see how you're reacting every time she makes an impressive play during the game. 

Jackie visibly deflates any time you're substituted out. It's hard to justify staring at you all game if you're not actually on the field, after all. 

Keeps trying to find excuses to linger by your locker room after the game so she can catch you after the game. She walked over with the intention to talk shit, but is too afraid of hurting your feelings after your team loses so badly that she ends up just flirting with you instead. 

Stalking your Instagram during halftime and accidentally likes a picture from two years ago. You just vaguely hear an embarrassed “OH MY GOD!” coming vaguely from the Yellowjacket’s locker room. 

Jackie studies your play style more intensely than anyone else's, telling herself it's just for strategy, but knowing deep down it's because it's you. 

Jackie nearly skipping out of the bus on game day because she knows she gets to see you. Talked Shauna's ear off the whole ride there about how annoying (hot), and irritating (distracting), you are. 

You run into each other at a mutual friends party (Jackie crashed it because she asked around till she found one you'd be at) and finally get to have a real conversation. 

Jackie keeps subtly trying to see what college you're going to because she keeps daydreaming about playing on the same team together. She's put some serious thought into how the two of you could complement each other's play styles, but she mostly just imagines kissing you after a win. 

Shows up at your home games to cheer you on when it doesn't conflict with the Yellowjacket’s own standing. All your teammates are like “isn't that…?” and you just shake your head and turn away. She shows up with a sign with your name on it next time so she can wave it around. World’s biggest fan for your mostly mediocre soccer team. 

Finally asking Jackie to hang out sometime and her ass shows up with a soccer ball. 

Off the field, she's a lot more playful and confident when she talks to you. There's something about the uniform that just makes her so nervous. Jackie keeps teasing you about whatever member of your team is the worst. She's laughing hysterically talking about how one of them had tripped over the bench and brought half your team to the ground. You finally get annoyed and walk off and she's just chasing behind you like “wait!”

Having to deal with Jackie's irrational jealousy when she so much as sees you breathing in the direction of the opposing team captain whenever you play. Huffing and puffing because you had to say “good game” to the pretty captain you've never met before. 

Winning a game against a different team with a patented Jackie Taylor play and she's losing her mind on the bleachers. By the time she finds you after the game, she's practically vibrating with excitement. 

Jackie smiles for almost the entirety of a game because she catches you cheering for her in the bleachers after she scores a goal. She insists that it makes her a better player. 

She makes such a big deal out of choosing between her team and you when really no one even gives her a hard time about it but Tai. The seasons already ended for your team and Jackie's just out here trying to live out her Romeo and Juliet fantasy. 

Jackie insists that you have to kiss her before states or else she's going to lose. It's a good luck charm and not at all an excuse to kiss you, obviously. 

[confused-wanderer]

thoughts about Bruce nearly adopting the prince of hell itself- Nico di Angelo? bcause there is no register of Nico having a family, he's an orphan for the mortals. And Bruce is always into adopting orphans with a dark past (cmon Nico has a really dark n complicated past)

I love the way you think.

Nico di Angelo already has the brooding, dark and concerningly pale part of being Gotham’s cryptic down. It isn’t his fault that when he accidentally shadow travels while in the underworld and ends up in Gotham, every villain and goddamn person in Gotham has already pegged him as the latest addition to the bat family. It had taken Nico way longer than he’d like to admit to realize he wasn’t in the underworld anymore. In Nico’s defence, when you had dark streets filled with a heaviness in the air, accompanied by darkness and screams everywhere it’s hard to realize you’ve actually ended up on Earth.

The first time Bruce bumps into him is when he sees this kid take down forty assassins in one fell swoop. The kid fights with a sword, but Bruce notes that he relies more on his powers. When the fight is over, Bruce feels the weight of Nico’s gaze on him. He feels the souls of the damned judging him, but the only thing he can focus on is that this kid is scrawny. Concerningly pale, and eye bags so deep they gave Tim a run for his money. And all the pieces clicked: why all the people were suddenly chastising him for not feeding his kid enough, why the villains were crying foul play over him playing favourites when it came to allowing metas in his city, Bruce keeps his eyes peeled, tries to track down the kid because forget seeing him as a threat to Gotham, this kid was a threat to himself with the way he was operating. The next time he meets Nico, he comes prepared with weeks of research that led him to the perfect peace offering: A McDonalds Happy Meal.

Nico’s fight or flight instincts were failing him when Bruce approached, because he had no idea what to do when an intimidating creature appears out of the shadows, walks towards him and basically shoves a meal in his face and asks him where his parents are. But slowly he starts trailing Bruce, asks the ghosts about him and pieces together that he was a mortal famous for brooding and hiding in the shadows..Nico had competition for his title.

Bruce lends him a room in the manor one night after Nico almost passes out, and is slightly scared of how aggressive the man’s kind gestures are. From the way Alfred gives him the side eye when he thinks he’s successful in skipping meals, or the superhuman strength with which Bruce absentmindedly judo-flipped a monster into another dimension when it tried to attack Nico while he was half-asleep. One day after a long nap, Nico hears a lot of animated noises, peeks around the corner and that’s how he sees the rest of the batfam. The next few days even though he tries to avoid him they all somehow find him, curious to see the latest arrival. Jason is informing him of his rights when he becomes a legal ward and all the blackmail and guilt-tripping he is entitled to, while Dick and Barbara try and make him feel comfortable and welcome without preying too much. Something about them keeps nagging Nico, because they seemed so damn familiar he found himself wanting to believe he was safe with them. It’s only after the two have a debate and share an exasperated look that it clicks. Their antics remind him of Percy and Annabeth.

It takes a little getting used to though. The first time Nico and Tim met, everyone else swore they were seeing double. Two anemic kids with more trauma than blood in their body, complete with the eye bags and the pale complexion. The only thing Nico was missing, was a missing spleen. The batfam still mixed up their names from time to time, but Nico wouldn’t admit that he liked it, and sometimes would add fuel to the fire. He liked being the only one who could scare Bruce every single time by beating the man at his own games and appearing out of the shadows. Bruce does still occasionally ask about his parents- half out of curiosity and the other concern and at one point Nico knows enough about their world to know they won’t bat an eye at the truth, so he tells them. His reaction was certainly tame, but the bat kids went crazy when they realised they could have a dance-off with the skeletons.

When Nico finally feels well enough to shadow travel back, that’s when Bruce pops the question. He’s nervous, Nico can tell and that makes him nervous. The same way his dad would feel nervous asking him if he wanted to hang out, or have a movie night. It’s strange, Nico thinks to himself, how two powerful beings that can intimidate the world without saying a word, could turn so scared when facing their own children. Their conversation goes a little something like this:

Bruce: listen.. I know you have a dad. I know you’re not an orphan.. technically. But it’ll be a lot easier and we’ll have less obstacles in our civilian identities for me to help you however or whenever you want. I want you to know.. you have a home here. If you ever need to rest, shelter or help, I want you to know you always have a place to crash. The manor is your home, and I just want you to know that. If you say this name in this universe and ask for me, no matter where you are, I will find you. And I will come to help. And I’m not the only one who will if you have that name.

Nico *struggling to blink back tears*: I-

Bruce *panicking*: Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry it’s completely fine if you don’t want to. Sorry I wasn’t trying to guilt trip you chum I just wanted you to know I-we all care about you and that you’re not alone.

Nico *sniffling*: Thank you..

Skeleton hand *popping out of the ground, hopping over to Bruce and extending out a letter*

Letter: YES.

Bruce: .. what the-

Nico *turning red*: DAD!!

Letter: Love you :) -Dad.

Nico: it’s fine you don’t have to do what he says Br-

Bruce *slams down adoption papers*

[trademarkblue]

I almost didn't post this, but I kinda like having my thoughts organized. It's way too long and very rambly and totally not based on any scholarly wisdom, obviously, because I posses exactly zero of that. These are just my very subjective thoughts based on obsessing over Nick and June. So please feel free to skip right on over this! xx

I understand the individual pieces of thinking June is selfish or she's using Nick, or thinking Nick should have left Gilead a long time ago (based on the show not giving us great reasons that he stayed, beyond hopelessness), or June is cheating, or Nick is cheating, or she should have chosen Nick somehow and left Luke…

But to me it’s just so much more complicated than that that I think it’s not really fair to reduce the scope of what’s happening to those basic traits or emotions. So I'm trying to break them down here to what I see and believe about these characters and what I think adds to the tragic beauty of it.

June is selfish

This one is kinda heartbreaking to me, because I feel like people forget that no one really looked out for June in Gilead except for Nick. Sure the Handmaids helped her after the gunshot in 3x13-4x01, and they did show kindness to her in the Red Center when her feet were whipped, and I'm sure there are a lot of other small examples of them coming together and caring about June during a specific period of time or after abuse. We can assume Rita organized June's escape attempt in season 2, so that's major. And of course she loves all of these women and they love her, but it's Gilead, and everyone was experiencing their own daily traumas. And Lawrence has helped her too. But that's all been mostly physical assistance.

I just think no one deeply cares consistently about her mental wellbeing, other than Nick. And most of the other people she had to interact with tried to fuck with her mental health, actually making it worse. Nick was desperately trying to keep her afloat. So in a way, I feel like she’s also very, very alone a lot of the time, and this continues on into her experience in Canada. She's just spent years only talking to Nick about anything of substance. Opening up to other people after that would be blinding.

So, when you’re the only one looking out for yourself over a prolonged period of time, one of only two options (in my opinion) is to become what looks like traditional selfishness from the outside. And sometimes it is actually just straight up selfish and not self-preservation, for sure - like June thinking she has a right to use the phone first in Alaska 16 times in a row in 6x01, while there's a queue behind her.

And I’m certainly not saying any of this is right or that June shouldn’t examine this about herself now and work on becoming better. She totally should. But I do feel sad for her too, because I wish she felt like she could rely on people who are physically in her life right now when she does need support. So that's complicated.

June is using Nick

For years, she was a woman with no power, with one trustworthy person in her life. One. Of course she’s gonna ask him for help. So that dynamic gets established pretty fast, and other than Nick occasionally telling her he can’t do something, we never see him explaining what he’s actually doing in his day to day life. June is left to imagine - as an Eye, as a Guardian, and then as a Commander - what he’s capable of.

I absolutely think she needs to face the fact that she’s put Nick in this fantasy box where he’s just over there doing “something” and he’s fine, and that’s problematic. I want her to face that this season, and I think she might. I'm really glad that Nick told her directly in 6x03 that he's risking his life and everything he has to save her husband, to help her any time she calls, and this is a Gilead survival dynamic that has to change. But there was so much unsaid in season 5, and so much Nick hasn’t shared with her, ever. I’m not saying it excuses anything, but it’s also complicated.

Nick should have left Gilead

This is so inconsistent within the show that it’s kinda hard to even take seriously. So could he have skipped across the border at any point, or would he have gone to prison? I always thought the latter, though I think he would have been able to secure a deal pretty easily by giving up Gilead intel. But once June was free in Canada, Nick was her only tie to Hannah from the inside. I don’t think he takes that lightly, and I will believe until the writers can strongly prove otherwise that Nick would have wanted to stay largely out of hoping to be accessible in order to help with getting Hannah out, even if it takes years and costs him his life.

But in the meantime, he’s telling June in 4x09 that Hannah is out of reach for now, so if Nick is stuck in Gilead for potentially a very long time, he has to remarry. And he isn’t going to ever tell June that he did this - that he stayed - partly for her benefit.

I also agree that Nick doesn’t feel worthy of having a life outside of Gilead and that it’s something he actually fears, as in he’s scared to be free. He sees himself as worthless, and the world will also likely see him that way (in his opinion), and there’s no place for him. Gilead and New Bethlehem have made a place for him, as fucked up as that is.

I still wish June would look him directly in the eyes and ask him point blank to leave. Back in season 2, June asked the man transporting her away from the Boston Globe if Nick was coming, and this was well after she'd found out that Luke was alive. So I do think she has a history of wanting Nick to leave with her.

She tried a strained version of asking him in season 5, after he turned down Tuello’s deal. But I also choose to believe that Hannah is one of many reasons that Nick didn’t want to take that deal, because any additional heat on him makes it so much harder to do the one thing he thinks he can still do for June from the inside.

And if this is true, June doesn’t know this, even though I do think she should come to this likely conclusion and ask Nick about it. You don’t just go from “here’s a folder of everything I’ve been collecting on Hannah for you in your absence” to “I’m just staying in Gilead for fun” in a matter of a few weeks or months… But he is telling her in season 5 that he’s essentially moved on, or is really trying to, and that he has a pregnant wife he's not leaving.

Nick also apparently wanted June to come to New Bethlehem, which is still fairly out of character to me, for a few reasons. Why would he want her to risk living so close to Gilead again? Why would he be talking about Rose and the pregnancy a single breath after lamenting that June didn't choose to move into the house next door to him? What's he expecting to come from that?

The only thing I could make sense of before is that Nick was conspiring to get Hannah out and needed June's agreement to New Bethlehem to stand as a distraction for another plan. And now, in season 6, I'm wondering if he wanted her there in the same way that Rita is now, reuniting with her sister, with the promise of that leading to them getting out together in a year or two. It's all a bit naive, because New Bethlehem is a smoke screen that only Lawrence and Nick actually somehow believe in. But I could accept this explanation if the show gave it to us.

But I guess my point is, Nick is fully twisted up in Gilead - in legal, emotional, and obligatory ways. So it’s very complicated.

June is cheating

June thought Luke was dead, started sleeping with Nick, found out Luke was alive, continued the relationship with Nick, assumed she would probably die in Gilead. I’m not saying that’s the reason she kept seeing Nick - I think she would have anyway, because she was already falling in love with him - but it just adds an extra layer to everything. She desperately wants her old life back and to be free, but another part of her must know that’s a long shot.

Then June sends Holly to Canada and tells Luke at her first opportunity that she’s in love with Nick. As soon as she arrives in Canada in season 4, Luke starts acting like June's his uncomplicated wife again and never asks her about Nick until he tries to use Nick to get info on Hannah. June could have spoken up about Nick, yes, but she’s the one coping with her trauma while Luke knows there’s at the very least a complicated emotional connection between June and Nick. So no one is blissfully ignorant, even if they try to act like they are.

I would almost say June sleeping with Luke in Canada after leaving Gilead is more like cheating on Nick. I don’t think any of them see it that way, because Nick has always been fully aware of Luke, and I’m sure he assumed that they (June and Luke) would be together again when/if June escaped from Gilead. And Nick aids in her escape attempts, knowing he’s sending her to another man. I guess he didn't definitively know that Luke waited for June, but I think that’s been his assumption, probably because Nick would have done the same thing in a free world.

Staying with Luke for as long as June has after arriving in Canada is sometimes kinda hard to swallow. But she does still love him, even if she's just now coping with the fact that it's shifted to a different kind of love and no longer a romantic attachment, something she's having to remove the guilt noose about too so she can honestly express this to Luke.

June sways under pressure and guilt, and Luke is frozen in her past, the past she thought she wanted back. So when she's plunged back into that past, it makes sense to me that she would let the current take her for a while. I hope we're nearing the end of that now, and then it will be a lot less complicated.

Nick is cheating

We find out right away in season 5, in the scene where we actually meet Rose, that Nick has told her at least some information about June. I thought this was a bit weird and risky at first, but I think he just wanted to have a sliver of honesty between himself and the person he was probably going to have to spend the rest of his Gilead life with.

Even if Nick sought Rose out as potential Gilead wife material - which seems accurate based on some comments later about how they met in DC - he did so under abstract threat at the very least, because an unmarried, fertile man in Gilead is not only suspicious but pitched as borderline illegal after a certain point. Nick can go ahead and choose someone he can tolerate now, or he can risk being forced into another marriage with a child, or with someone scheming to make a claim for Holly, or with someone who hates him.

But choosing a better option before a worse one is forced on you isn't actually a choice, so this can't even be compared to June, a real relationship, or actual love, in my opinion. He didn't Eternal Sunshine himself to forget June exists, so he's gonna be emotionally cheating on absolutely anyone else for the rest of his life anyway.

So this one is actually the least complicated on the list to me, because Nick's relationship with June pre-dates Rose (not that this ever excuses cheating), he told Rose about June, and to be honest, I think you could even say Nick is cheating on June with Rose if you wanted to stretch the meaning of that further. I don't actually think June sees it that way, both because she's currently back with Luke anyway and because she knows how Gilead works. But I just think it could be viewed that way nearly as easily as "June is cheating on Nick" by being in Canada with Luke.

June should have chosen Nick

How? The options I see are she asks him to leave or she moves to New Bethlehem and risks being taken back into Gilead, executed, or made a Handmaid again. She could have chosen him in a more abstract sense by telling him she’s leaving Luke, but that’s the journey that’s still in progress, in my opinion.

And she also didn’t know until 6x03 that Nick is literally still in love with her to the degree that it’s ruining his life (arguably not ruining anything since his daily life is currently a masquerade and his love for her is his oxygen). She absolutely knew he still loved her and would do anything for her, but I think 6x03 is where she finally sees the depth of how much this is weighing on him and that he still wants to be chosen. I totally think she could and should have guessed this, but season 5 fucked with all of our heads, including June’s, on what Nick was up to or what he actually wanted.

And to be totally honest, I think if we’re saying that June should have chosen Nick - in whatever way that could have been possible - we kinda also have to say that Nick should have chosen June… by leaving Gilead, by not marrying again and starting a new family in a matter of months (a necessity if he's not leaving Gilead, so I do get it based on the long rant I did about that topic above), even at the risk of June not actually leaving Luke... because June would be doing the same thing in choosing Nick, at the risk of him not actually leaving Rose.

The last time June even vaguely attempted to get Nick to come to Canada was the same scene where he told June that Rose was pregnant. So, it makes sense that June would think he’s committed to this new family. Even in 6x03, before he starts slicing open his heart and telling her how he really feels, she’s sadly saying that he has a whole life and a baby on the way. So that’s all very complicated too.

I honestly think one more really raw conversation between Nick and June before season 6 is done could clear up like 90% of all of the above, and then they could really figure out how to be together. And I would give up all my dreams of ever seeing another sex scene between them just to get that conversation.