#but today i had a Question that needed Answers

[cressidagrey]

The Mysterious Mrs Piastri - The "Canon" Version

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even.

Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

Notes:

Hi! This is the reworked version of the "The mysterious Mrs. Piastri". No worries! The original is still there. The problem is, that I wrote that piece originally as a stand alone.

There was never supposed to be Bee. There was never even supposed to be Felicity, because it was originally supposed to be a reader insert.

There was never supposed to be a sequel, which is why there is a lot of social media stuff in the original that's very out of character for Felicity, but I used back then to flesh out the "character" more because again, there was never supposed to be sequel.

So here it is: The new and "improved" version:

Oscar Piastri had always been a calm, collected kind of guy. Unshakeable, even.

Lando Norris, on the other hand? Not so much.

And today? Today was the day Lando fully lost it.

It had started innocently enough, just another fan stage, just another round of questions.

“Oscar, would you rather get married or get a tattoo?”

Lando relaxed. This one was easy. Surely Oscar would say tattoo. Maybe he’d joke about getting “downforce” written across his bicep in cursive. Something normal.

Instead, Oscar said, calm as ever, “Well, I already did one of those things.”

Lando choked.

He choked.

His drink shot out of his mouth like a missile. “YOU GOT A TATTOO?!”

Oscar turned to him, eyebrows creased in confusion. “What? No.”

And then it happened.

Lando watched, in real-time, as his brain caught up with Oscar’s words. “Wait.” His voice cracked. “WAIT.”

He stood up. Actually stood up. “YOU’RE MARRIED?!”

Oscar just nodded. Calm. Chill. Like he’d just announced what time breakfast was, not that his entire personal life was something Lando apparently had zero clue about.

Lando was spiraling. “WHAT?”

Even the interviewer sat forward, sensing blood in the water. “Wait—married married? Like, legally?”

Oscar looked almost offended by the clarification. “Is there another kind?”

Lando’s hands flew to his head. His whole worldview was crumbling. “SINCE WHEN?!”

Oscar shrugged like they were discussing tire strategy. “A while now.”

Lando looked to the crowd for help. The crowd was screaming. Phones were recording. PR was probably out back crying.

“I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend!” Lando yelled.

Oscar squinted at him. “You know that.”

“I DO NOT KNOW THAT.” Lando was full-blown shrieking now. “WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED A GIRLFRIEND—LET ALONE A WIFE?!”

Oscar just shrugged again, that same infuriating calm on his face. “Well. I do. She’s amazing. 10/10. Would always marry her again.”

Lando’s soul left his body. “YOU HAVE A WIFE?!”

The interviewer was thriving. “We need details. How long have you been together?”

Oscar, ever consistent: “Since we were fifteen.”

Lando wheezed. “FIFTEEN?!” He sounded like he was being personally attacked. Oscar nodded like that was a normal answer.

“Where did you meet?”

Oscar blinked. “School?”

Lando turned to the audience, pointing like he needed witnesses. “Look at this guy! Of course he’s been secretly married this whole time. Of course!”

“When did you get married?” the interviewer asked, beaming like she’d just uncovered the next great F1 scandal.

Oscar: “When I was eighteen.”

The crowd erupted. Lando clutched his chest. “EIGHTEEN?! WHY?!”

Oscar: “Because I wanted to? Because I love her?”

Lando physically recoiled. “What, like… straight out of high school?!”

“Not straight out,” Oscar said thoughtfully. “We waited.”

“How long is a bit, Oscar?”

Oscar tilted his head. “Three weeks after graduation?”

Lando made a noise he was pretty sure only dolphins could hear. “THAT’S NOT A BIT, THAT’S A BLINK.”

The interviewer was practically in Oscar’s lap at this point. “How did you propose?”

Oscar shrugged. “I asked her to marry me.”

Lando stared. “That’s it? That’s the whole story?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah.”

“Where?” the interviewer prompted.

“At home.”

“…At home?”

“On the bed.”

Lando threw his hands in the air. “YOU ABSOLUTE ROBOT.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “She said yes.”

“That poor woman,” Lando muttered.

Then came the worst part.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret for so long?” the interviewer asked.

Oscar gave the most Piastri answer imaginable: “No one asked.”

Lando screamed.

“Who is she?!” the interviewer asked, practically vibrating. “What’s her name? Where’s she from?”

Oscar, completely useless: “My wife?”

Lando looked ready to launch himself into the stratosphere. “YES, BUT WHO IS SHE? WHY HAVE I NEVER MET HER?!”

Oscar blinked. “I thought it was obvious?”

“OBVIOUS TO WHO?!”

Oscar just shrugged again.

Lando was losing it. “Okay, but why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew,” Oscar said, like that wasn’t the most unhinged thing he could possibly say.

“How would I have known?!” Lando shouted. “Do I look like a mind reader to you?!”

Oscar just looked at him, completely unbothered. The calmest chaos Lando had ever known.

Finally, Lando gave in. “You have to introduce me to her. Like, actually. You can’t just be married and expect me not to meet her.”

Oscar sighed, clearly seeing the writing on the wall. “Fine.”

“Good.” Lando sat back. Then narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Does anyone else know?”

Oscar considered. “I think Zak does.”

Lando shrieked. “WHY DOES ZAK KNOW?!”

“Because he’s my boss?”

“I’M YOUR FRIEND!”

Somewhere, McLaren PR was having the worst day of their careers.

Oscar Piastri, the most low-maintenance driver in the paddock, had just casually revealed on live fan stage that he had a wife—and had had one since he was eighteen.

And Lando?

Lando was never going to emotionally recover from this.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/FormulaTea: 🚨OSCAR PIASTRI JUST CASUALLY ANNOUNCED ON FAN STAGE THAT HE’S BEEN MARRIED SINCE HE WAS 18??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN. WHAT.

@/chaoticf1brain: not oscar piastri saying “i already did one of those” to a “married or tattoo?” question and lando immediately short-circuiting. THIS IS CINEMA.

@/pitlaneprincess: the fact that oscar piastri’s marriage reveal came from a game of “would you rather get married or get a tattoo” is so unintentionally iconic. robot behavior. absolute king.

@/mclarensburner: no like. imagine being oscar’s teammate, sharing hotel gyms and debriefs and flights and NEVER KNOWING he was out here with a whole ass wife since he was a teenager. i’d scream too.

@/lanxiety_norris: Lando’s live meltdown over not knowing Oscar was married has already entered my top 5 F1 moments of all time. He spat out his drink. He screamed. I will be studying this footage for the rest of my life.

@/drivehivehq: oscar saying “she’s amazing. 10/10. would always marry her again.” in the middle of lando’s breakdown 😭💍

why is he lowkey husband goals???

@tiretalkpod: Oscar Piastri being married for FIVE YEARS and no one knowing is somehow more chaotic than any on-track drama we’ve had in the past 3 seasons. This man kept a whole wife secret like it was tire strategy.

@/piastrified: oscar: “how did i keep it a secret? no one asked.” the ENTIRE INTERNET: now asking every possible question at once

@/PRnightmare:  McLaren PR right now: 🧍‍♂️💻💥🔥🧯📉📉📉📉📉

@landosocial:  lando literally said “I’M YOUR FRIEND” like a hurt Victorian child finding out his best mate got married without telling him i’m sobbing 😭😭😭

@/f1brainrot:  we don’t know her name. we don’t know her face. we just know she said yes to a man who proposed “at home. on the bed.” and honestly? she’s a legend.

@/gridwivesunite:  Oscar said “I proposed at home. On the bed.” Oscar also said “she said yes.” Sir??? Why is this accidentally the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard???

@/tracklimitsandtea:  Me watching Oscar drop five years of marital lore in one fan stage while Lando has a nervous breakdown: 👁️👄👁️

@/buzzingtonstan: IF THIS MAN HAS A WHOLE WIFE, DOES THAT MEAN HE ALSO HAS A KID?? IS THERE A BABY PIASTRI OUT THERE??? OSCAR. BLINK TWICE.

@/landodrama: someone make the Netflix episode of this IMMEDIATELY. title it “How Oscar Piastri Crashed the Internet in 6 Words”

@/flannelanddownforceWHO IS THE MYSTERIOUS MRS PIASTRI!?!?

@/nicolepiastri:  I see the internet is discovering my son is married. Welcome to the club. I, too, found out after the fact 5 years ago. 👍

↪️@/piastriluv: NICOLE PLEASE TELL US YOU’RE KIDDING 😭😭😭

@/landochaotic:   Did he at least call you after the ceremony or did you find out via a tax form?!

***

Oscar Piastri was a man of routine.

He liked predictability. Consistency. A life largely free of unnecessary chaos.

Which was exactly why, after the complete meltdown that was today’s fan stage, he had retreated to his driver’s room, shut the door, and pulled out his phone. If there was one thing in his life that wasn’t chaotic, it was his wife.

The call barely rang twice before Felicity picked up, her face appearing on-screen, framed by the garage lighting. She had her hair tied up and was wearing one of his old hoodies—his favorite one, judging by the faded McLaren logo on the sleeve.

Just seeing her calmed him down instantly.

“Hey, Oz,” she said, smiling like she already knew he needed it.

Oscar slumped back against the couch, head tilted to rest against the wall. “Hey, Fliss.”

She studied him for a second. “So. How was your day?”

Oscar closed his eyes for a beat. “Lando found out we’re married.”

Her eyebrows lifted in slow, amused surprise. “Oh.” A pause. “He… didn’t know?”

Oscar opened one eye. “Apparently not.”

That earned a full laugh, soft and familiar. “How the hell did you think he knew?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. We’ve been married for, what, five years now? I figured… someone would’ve told him.”

Felicity gave him a long, fond look. “Oz. You’re about as subtle as a torque wrench, and somehow also the most emotionally secretive man alive.”

“I can be romantic,” Oscar huffed, immediately defensive.

Before she could reply, there was a loud, unmistakable bang on the door. Followed by—

“LET ME IN, PIASTRI!”

Oscar closed his eyes again and muttered under his breath, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

On-screen, Felicity was trying very hard not to laugh. “Is that…?”

“YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS BEFORE I BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN AND DEMAND ANSWERS—”

Oscar tilted the phone so she could see the ceiling. “Yes.”

Now she was laughing freely, and it was a beautiful sound—one he’d always liked more than any podium cheer.

The banging continued. “STOP IGNORING ME, OSCAR. I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE. I CAN HEAR YOU BREATHING.”

“You should probably let him in,” Felicity said, lips twitching. “Before he combusts.”

Oscar sighed the sigh of a man who had accepted his fate. He got up, opened the door—

—and Lando barreled in like a man on a mission.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Lando demanded. “I NEED TO SEE HER WITH MY OWN EYES.”

Oscar didn’t even flinch. Just held up the phone like it was Exhibit A. “She’s on FaceTime. Calm down, lunatic.”

Lando whipped around so fast he nearly tripped, then launched himself onto the couch, staring at the screen with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Silence.

Felicity gave him a polite, amused smile. “Hi. You must be Lando.”

Lando stared. Then pointed. “You’re real.”

She laughed. “I hope so.”

He turned to Oscar, looking betrayed on a spiritual level. “SHE’S REAL.”

Oscar sighed. “I know.”

Lando turned back to the screen. “And you married him? At eighteen?”

Felicity shrugged, her smile fond. “Yep.”

“WHY?!” Lando looked genuinely baffled.

Felicity tilted her head. “Because I love him?”

Lando looked like his entire world had been completely shaken. “You love him,” he repeated, staring incredulously down at her.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Oi, mate, why’s that so hard to believe?”

Lando just groaned in exasperation. “You do not understand how hard it is, being friends with a guy for literal years, and never knowing he had a girlfriend—let alone a WIFE.”

“Mate, I’m pretty sure that says more about you than me,” Oscar told him bluntly.

Lando shot him a glare. “Oh, and you’re what? Mister Emotional Intelligence? You’ve been hiding this for years!”

Oscar shrugged. “Never came up in conversation.”

Lando looked horrified. “Don’t put this on me!”

Oscar shrugged. “You never asked.”

Lando flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face. “Unbelievable.”

Felicity stifled a laugh, the corners of her mouth tugging upward as she watched Lando in his current state.

Oscar side-eyed Lando. “What’s so hard to believe?”

Lando just flailed his arms. “You’ve been my friend for years and I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend, let alone a wife!”

Oscar folded his arms. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Oh, and now I’m the emotionally unaware one?”

“Yes.”

Lando flopped back on the couch like his entire world had been shaken. “You never told me!”

“You never asked.”

Lando, meanwhile, had moved to the “trying to wrap his head around this situation” portion of his breakdown.

“Okay, no. We’re fixing this. Immediately.”

Oscar looked at him flatly. “You’re meeting her. Right now.”

“No. In person. I need proof she’s not a deepfake generated by your PR team to make you seem like a human being.”

Oscar deadpanned, “No PR team is that good.”

Lando pointed to the phone. “Mrs. Piastri, I will see you soon.”

She laughed. “Looking forward to it.”

Lando nodded firmly, then turned back to Oscar. “I will be grilling you for details later.”

Oscar sighed. “Of course you will.”

Lando stood dramatically. “Good. Carry on.” And then he walked out like he had just personally fixed the situation.

Oscar turned back to Fliss, who was fully laughing.

“You were not kidding about him,” she said.

Oscar sighed. “I regret everything.”

She smirked. “Love you.”

Oscar huffed. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

And somewhere, in the distance, Lando was plotting.

****

@/oscarpiastri ✅

Caption:

So, the internet (and, more importantly, Lando) just found out I’m married.

To be honest, I didn’t think it was a secret. I’ve been married for years. I assumed people knew. Turns out, I was very, very wrong.

Yes, I’m married. Have been for five years this summer.

So, meet my wife- Felicity—my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and the only one who has somehow put up with me for this long.

We met when we were 14. Two kids at boarding school, thrown together by pure chance. The only open seat in class was next to me, so she took it. I stole a pen from her once—completely by accident—but she still let me borrow her pens after that. Eventually, she started carrying a second one just for me. I told myself that meant something.

She always knew when I was having a bad day, even when I hadn’t said a word. She made school bearable, made exams feel less stressful, made me laugh even when all I wanted to do was complain. Somewhere between stolen lunch breaks and long walks back to the dorms, between late-night study sessions and whispered conversations about the future, I fell in love with her. Quietly, all at once and over time. I knew by the time we were 15—maybe even before then.

She was my best friend first. The person I trusted most. The one who understood the parts of my life that didn’t always make sense to everyone else. By the time I worked up the nerve to tell her how I felt, she just smiled and said, ‘I was wondering when you’d figure that out.’ Like she had known all along.

When I left school to chase this ridiculous dream, she didn’t ask me to stay. She just told me she’d be there, no matter how far I went. And she was. Through every win, every loss, every moment of self-doubt.

So when we turned 18, we didn’t wait. Three weeks after graduation, we walked into a registry office in London, signed a piece of paper, and walked out married. No grand ceremony, no expensive dress. Just us, two rings we picked out in under twenty minutes, and a promise we already knew we’d keep.

We told our families afterward. Some took it better than others.

I know getting married at 18 sounds a little mad. People told us we were too young, that we should wait, that we were being reckless. But why? I had no doubt in my mind then, and I have none now.

Fliss is still the first person I call after every race, no matter the result. She’s the one who tells me to go to bed when I’m up too late on the sim, who reminds me to eat when I forget, who talks me down when I start overthinking. She’s been with me through everything. Through junior categories to F1, through every high and every low, through the moments I wanted to quit and the ones where I felt like I was on top of the world.

She’s my best friend, my greatest love, the only person who can call me out on my nonsense and get away with it.

So, no, I don’t have a tattoo. But I do have a wife. The person who still looks at me like I’m just that 15-year-old kid stealing a pen and falling in love before he even realizes it’s happening.

I have no idea how I convinced her to marry me, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

10/10, would always marry her again. ❤️

@/felicitypiastri

Comments:

@/landonorris: FIVE YEARS??? YOU HAVE BEEN MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS???↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I assumed you knew. ↪️ @/landonorris: WHEN HAVE YOU EVER MENTIONED HAVING A WIFE???↪️ @/felicitypiastri: He does this thing where he forgets people don’t just know things.

@/danielricciardo: High school sweethearts. Eloped at 18. Best plot twist of the season.

@/mclaren: We have so many questions.↪️ @/felicitypiastri: Submit them in an organized document, I’ll answer the best ones.

@/f1updates: Today in ‘Oscar Piastri casually drops life-changing information’—he has a whole wife. Lando learned this at the same time as the rest of us.

@/landoscult: Not Lando finding out with the fans and having a full existential crisis on stage 💀💀💀

@/thef1editz: POV: You just found out your best friend has been MARRIED FOR YEARS and never told you (attached video of Lando’s reaction with dramatic music)

@/wagsf1: WE NEED A FULL BOARDING SCHOOL LOVE STORY IMMEDIATELY.

@/f1tea: No thoughts, just Lando yelling ‘WHO GETS MARRIED AT 18’ like he was personally betrayed.

@/padlockthegrid: We’ve been watching this man for YEARS and never once suspected a wife??

@/georgerussell63: I feel like this is something you announce at a dinner, not in front of an audience.↪️ @/oscarpiastri: I thought I had mentioned it. ↪️ @/landonorris: YOU DID NOT.

@/charles_leclerc: This is the greatest plot twist in F1 history.

@/fernandoalo_oficial: I respect this level of secrecy.

@/chaoticneutralf1: Oscar Piastri is terrifying. He just DOES things and assumes people KNOW.

@/mclaren: Oscar, any other life-altering facts you’ve forgotten to mention?↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not that I can think of.↪️ @/landonorris: I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT.

@/felicitypiastri: 10/10, would marry you again. (Even if you forget to tell people.)↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Love you too. ❤️

@/danielricciardo: Oscar, mate, do you have any other shocking secrets? ↪️ @/oscarpiastri: Not really. ↪️ @/landonorris: I AM NOT CONVINCED.

@/chaoticgrid: I will think about this every day for the rest of my life.

***

@/felicitypiastri Instagram Post

Caption:

So. Yesterday happened.

Since Oscar apparently forgot that telling people you’re married is something you actually have to do, I’ve spent the last 24 hours watching the internet lose its collective mind. You guys have questions. Lots of them. So, let’s go:

1. Wait… Oscar is MARRIED?!

Yes. Since we were 18. I know, I know. We should have made a big announcement. Or at the very least told his teammate. Oops.

2. When did you get married?!Right after we graduated. We were 18, ran off to London, signed a piece of paper, and then told our families. In hindsight, we probably should have done that last part beforehand, but hey, we were young and in love.

3. Why so young?Because we were sure. It wasn’t impulsive—it was inevitable. People told us we were crazy, that we should wait, that we’d change. But we didn’t. We grew up together, and we only ever grew toward each other. If I had to choose again, I’d do it exactly the same way.

3. How did you two meet?We were 15, stuck at boarding school, and Oscar stole my pen. He swears it was an accident. I maintain that it was the moment he decided to make me fall in love with him.

5. Did you really not tell Lando?I thought he knew! Everyone close to us does! I assumed Oscar had mentioned it at some point, but, well… you all saw what happened. Apparently, Oscar’s ‘private life’ policy extended to his teammate of nearly two years. Which is why we all got to witness his public breakdown in real-time.

5. Does this mean you’re an F1 WAG?Technically? Yes. Do I have the outfit coordination and expensive handbag collection to back it up? No. I do steal Oscar’s team hoodies, so that counts, right?

6. What’s your favorite thing about Oscar?The way he loves—quietly, steadily, with his whole heart. He still waits up for me if I’m out late, still kisses my forehead when he thinks I’m asleep, still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves like he did back when he was karting. I’ve loved him for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way.

7. And since Oscar said ‘10/10 would always marry her again,’ what’s your answer?10/10. No regrets, no hesitation, no doubt. I’d marry him a thousand times over.

Comments: 

@/landonorris: I’M STILL NOT OVER THIS. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: I’m never going to live this down, am I? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Nope. But I love you anyway.

@/danielricciardo: This is the kind of romance novel material I expect from an F1 WAG.

@/mclaren: We demand a Netflix special on this.

@/wagsf1: This is the cutest thing we’ve ever seen. Please post more.

@/f1updates: The way she said ‘10/10’ like it was the easiest question ever 😭💖

@/wagsf1: He still tucks handwritten notes into his race gloves??? I’M GONNA CRY.

@/f1updates: This woman just broke the internet by being casually, devastatingly in love.

@/f1fangirl92: The way this man has been secretly in love since he was FIFTEEN is actually lethal.”

@/fanaccountoscarpiastri: So what I’m getting is that Oscar is out here winning races and marriage. I respect it.

@/fanofeverything: Why did Oscar keep it a secret??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: It wasn’t a secret so much as… he never felt the need to bring it up? It’s not like he was hiding me in a basement somewhere. He just doesn’t talk about personal stuff unless someone asks directly. Which, apparently, no one did.

@/paddockinsider: Did Oscar just assume that everyone knew you guys were married? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Yes. 100%. This man did not think to mention it because he thought it was ‘obvious. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OBVIOUS TO WHO?? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: To him. He just figured if someone asked if he was married, he’d say yes. But since no one did, he saw no need to bring it up. ↪️@/landonorris: HOW IS THAT YOUR LOGIC. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No one asked. ↪️@/landonorris: I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.

@/paddockgossip: Did ANY other drivers know??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Oscar’s Prema teammates figured it out. The rest of the grid? Oblivious. ↪️@/landonorris: How did Oscar never accidentally spill?? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He doesn’t overshare. Meanwhile, I am still in awe that he just assumed people knew.

@/mclarenfanatic: Did he really think Lando knew? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: 100%. I asked him and he was like, ‘Well, I didn’t HIDE it?’ And I was like, ‘Oscar. That is not the same thing as telling people.’

@/pitstopqueen: What was your first impression of Oscar? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Honestly? I thought he was too quiet. Then he made some dry, sarcastic comment under his breath in class, and I immediately knew we’d get along.

@/tracksidegossip: How long did you actually plan the wedding? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: A week. And ‘plan’ is a generous term. We just Googled how to get married in London, booked the appointment, and that was that.

@/f1chaos: Oscar, be so honest, did you really think people would just ‘figure it out’ without you ever saying anything?? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Yes. Yes, he did.

@/gridgirlgossip: Oscar Piastri, the man who quietly eloped at 18, dealt with family drama, and then just went racing like nothing happened.

@/drsdiva: This is the wildest reveal in F1 history. Netflix, do your job.

@/f1softies: The fact that Oscar has been in wife guy mode for YEARS and we had no idea.

@/lando4lyf: Lando: ‘YOU GOT A TATTOO?!’ Oscar: ‘No, I’m married.’ Lando: internal system crash

@/piastriupdates: Lando Norris finding out live on stage that his teammate has been MARRIED FOR FIVE YEARS is the funniest thing to ever happen in F1.

@/f1memesdaily: Oscar Piastri eloped at 18, never told anyone, and assumed people would figure it out while Lando was out here thinking he was a single man. I respect the commitment to quiet chaos.

@/danielricciardo: Mate. You were MARRIED this whole time?? I thought you were just too focused on racing to date anyone, and instead you were out here with a whole WIFE???

@/charles_leclerc: You were married at 18? And Oscar thought that was a normal thing to do?? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Yes. 

@/alex_albon: Tbh, I respect it. Absolute power move. Eloping at 18, casually keeping it a secret, and then just dropping it on Lando like that?? Unreal. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: See? Alex gets it.

@/robertschwartzman: Oh, now everyone suddenly cares. Meanwhile, WE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: To be fair, you were basically forced to know. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: Yeah, because he wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘Oh, I can’t come to dinner, I have to call my wife.’ ‘Oh, I’m flying to London to see my wife.’ Mate, we were 19, and you were out here married like a 40-year-old. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He still does that, btw.↪️@/robertschwartzman: Not surprised. The man has been whipped since day one.

@/arthur_leclerc: The funniest part was watching Oscar just assume we all knew. Like we’d be talking about normal 19-year-old things, and he’d casually drop, ‘Yeah, my wife said the same thing.’ ↪️@/felicitypiastri: And did any of you ever ask for clarification? ↪️@/arthur_leclerc: Oh, we asked. His response? ‘What about it?’ LIKE SIR. ↪️@/robertschwartzman: “One time, I straight-up said, ‘Mate, do you realize you’re married?’ and he just blinked at me and said, ‘Yeah.’ As if that was a totally normal thing for a teenage racing driver. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Sounds about right. ↪️@/logansergeant: “Honestly, we stopped questioning it after a while. He was just so chill about it. ↪️@/arthur_leclerc: Yeah, it was like, ‘Oh, Oscar’s in a committed marriage while we’re all just trying to survive? Cool, cool.’

@/f1updates: So you eloped… but do you think you’ll ever have a big wedding? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Not really. Oscar and I don’t love being the center of attention, so a big wedding never appealed to us. ↪️@/landonorris: THEN CAN I HAVE A BIG PARTY ON YOUR BEHALF??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: We literally just had a wedding reveal by accident and you want to throw an even bigger event??? ↪️@/landonorris: YES.

@/f1updates: Why doesn’t Oscar wear a wedding ring? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He does! He just doesn’t wear it when driving. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: Okay but I have never seen this man wear a ring in my life. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He wears it in the off-season. Also, fun fact: he has a silicone one for training that he keeps losing.

@/f1updates: Serious question—why don’t you ever go to races?? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: I like my privacy. Nobody needs to see my terrified facial expressions. Also, I am busy at home. ↪️@/f1memes: You really married a professional racing driver and said no thanks to the circus.” ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Yep.  

↪️@/mclarenmemes: And Oscar’s fine with that??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He knew what he was signing up for.

@/landonorris: So I still haven’t met you because??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Because you are chaos incarnate and I am scared. ↪️@/landonorris: I AM DELIGHTFUL. ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Oscar tells me otherwise. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, SAY IT AIN’T SO. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: No comment.

@/mclarenmemes: So you just send him off to work and watch from home like it’s the Super Bowl? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Yes. ↪️@/f1memes: AND HE’S FINE WITH THAT??? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: He comes home, I feed him, we watch race replays together, and he tells me all the paddock gossip. We have an excellent system. ↪️@/f1updates: Oscar, confirm or deny? ↪️@/oscarpiastri: Confirmed.

@/f1updates: So, will we ever see you at a race? ↪️@/felicitypiastri: Maybe. One day. ↪️@/mclarenmemes: OSCAR, MAKE HER COME TO ONE. ↪️@/oscarpiastri: She does whatever she wants. I learned that a long time ago.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/piastrified: oscar posting a heartfelt essay about marrying the love of his life felicity posting a selfie from their wedding day and casually mentioning he stole her pen we are in a ROMANCE NOVEL people

@/tifosibutsoft:  not to be dramatic but i would lay down my life for felicity piastri and her 20-photo instagram grid.

@/formulafeminism: her instagram goes: 🧠 page-long math caption 🐔 chicken in a knitted sweater?! 🛠️ engine restoration 🍞 perfect sourdough crumb 💍 wedding ring in engine grease this woman is unhinged. i love her.

@/landoslostmind: lando finding out oscar is married via fan stage chaos the internet finding out felicity is better than ALL of us via a grid that has exactly zero curated content same vibe.

@/chaosinturn1:  felicity: “technically i’m an f1 wag” also felicity: wears oil-stained jeans, builds a gearbox, and bakes bread from scratch at 3am this woman is a weapon

@/garagegirlsupreme:  Felicity Piastri’s whole vibe is: “I could kill you with this torque wrench or love you for the rest of my life. Either way, you’re eating homemade banana bread.” 10/10 no notes.

@/formula1tumblr: Oscar: “I’d marry her again in a heartbeat.” Felicity: “We were inevitable.” Me: sob crying into an old hoodie I pretend is Oscar’s

@/pitwallposters:  you know she’s terrifyingly brilliant bc her instagram isn’t even TRYING to be aesthetic and it still made us fall in love with her

@/felicityspanner: people are out here thirst-following felicity for hot girl math & carburetors and you know what? same

@/softoscarpiastri:  Oscar: “I assumed people knew.” Felicity: “Oops.” Me, holding back tears while reading both their posts like it’s a Nicholas Sparks adaptation: 🧍‍♀️

@/beehivetheory:  felicity piastri’s instagram is the most confusing and impressive thing i’ve ever seen. one post: her holding a sourdough starter like it’s her child. next post: her under a 1967 alfa romeo spider with a wrench in her mouth. next: her proving a theorem i don’t have the qualifications to read.

@/mclarenbrainrot:  i think the best part is that felicity’s account is just soft lighting, feral captions, old cars, and a literal chicken coop.

@/chaoticgoodfelicity:  “Technically I’m a WAG. I steal Oscar’s hoodies so that counts right?” felicity i want to be you SO BAD.

@/formulanope:  I don’t know who I want to be more:

Oscar, who married the love of his life at 18 and thought everyone just knew

Felicity, who loves cars, chickens, and spreadsheets more than media attention

@/speedmathqueen people are shocked oscar married a genius but felicity’s instagram LITERALLY has a video where she’s like “just fixing a differential while calculating gravitational drag on a whiteboard” and then makes banana bread like it’s nbd how is this woman real

@/lanlanf1:  every team principal right now reading oscar’s caption like: “okay so not only is he unshakeable on track but also writes like a poet, has been married since 18, and literally fixed himself by 15. great. fantastic. my drivers can’t even commit to a protein shake.”

@/gpbutemotional:  Zak Brown: “we support family at McLaren.” Andrea Stella, quietly reprinting Oscar’s driver bio with “married to a woman smarter than all of us combined”

@/justpitthings:  the fact that felicity Piastri could win an engine-rebuild competition, a bake-off, and a theoretical physics conference in the same weekend AND look bored while doing it… she’s what every gifted kid from tumblr wanted to become

@/tinfoilfelicity:  convinced felicity is the reason oscar is so calm. you grow up married to someone who organizes her maths notes in color-coded hexadecimal and has chicken and suddenly nothing in life phases you anymore.

@/piastriupdates:  what do you mean oscar’s love language is handwritten notes inside his gloves before every race i’m actually going to cry in the middle of a petrol station

[astars-things]

Drive with Y/n and Lando...

lando norris x quadrant athlete reader

Summary- where you and Lando do a quadrant video, where you drive around and he asks you questions that fans sent in, talk about your relationship

------

Landos' camera guy, Ash, mounted the camera onto the dashboard, making sure it was secure and recording before giving us a thumbs up. One of the Quadrant admins put out a post on Twitter asking what quadrant athlete and or general video fans would like to see, and the most requested one was that you and Lando do a 'drive with me' type video, but the twist was that they wanted you to drive, so here you were sitting in the drivers seat of your Nissan G-T r35 (you can change the car if you want) with Lando in the passenger seat. 

You had the Quadrant admins post an Instagram story and a Twitter post for people to send in their burning questions. You and Lando both picked out 10 of your favorites and got the team to put them on cards for Lando to read out. "I swear," you mutter, buckling your seatbelt and starting the car, "if you pick anything weird, I’m kicking you out. I mean it, Norris."

"You wouldn’t dare," he grins, stretching out like he’s on a beach somewhere. "I’m your emotional support passenger." You gave him an eye roll. You put the car into drive and made your way out of your street, so nobody could figure out where you lived from the video. "Quit touching things", you muttered as you wacked Landos' hand away from your phone as he kept pressing shuffle on your playlist. He let out a huff before dropping your phone back into the cup holder 

Giving Lando a quick glance you mutter "Start the Q&A before you break something." as you flick your turn signal and ease the car into a nearby parking lot so you could do the intro together. The editors were going to have a field day with trying to edit this chaotic mess

You pulled into a car park to film the intro of video 

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the best Quadrant video you’ll see this month. Possibly ever," he announces, dramatically looking over to you before continuing  "Today we’re in the car with quadrant athlete and my girlfriend Y/N. She’s driving and I’m fearing for my life." you let out a loud sigh "Ignore my very dramatic boyfriend, I'm stepping aside from flipping dirt bikes to be here with you today" you said eyes flicking to the camera with a practiced smirk. "So you better appreciate the sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?"Lando repeats, feigning offense. "Anyways moving on. We asked you guys to send in questions on Instagram and Twitter, and we’ve picked our favorites. I’m driving because you lot demanded chaos and Lando is reading the questions." 

"And making sure we don’t die," he adds. You hit him gently on his bicep when he tightened his seatbelt for dramatic effect "Okay you ready love" Lando cooed grabbing his cards from the floor of you car, you nodded back pulling the car out of the carpark "Okay first question coming from @.PitStopQueen Who takes longer to get ready in the morning?" Lando read out and with no hesitation you called out "Lando"

"Excuse me?" he says, eyes wide. "Don’t lie to the internet," you say calmly, changing lanes with one hand on the wheel. "You spend at least twenty minutes just fixing your hair." "That’s called personal grooming," he argued, waving one hand toward the dashboard camera. "Some of us care about looking presentable." 

You raised an eyebrow. Making Lando second guess what he just said Lando just shook his head and held up the next card. "From @.Y/nLandoshipper How do you guys handle long distance?" You let out a soft breath, glancing at him to see if he wanted to answer or for you too, Lando gave you a nod silently saying you can answer 

"Its not easy, let me just say, there are somedays where its tougher than most but it makes us value the time we do get to spend together" You said trying not to let tears out as you think of times when you needed Lando and he was on the other side of the world, Lando put his hand on your thigh gently rubbing it to give you comfort 

"Lots of FaceTime calls," Lando added. "And spontaneous visits. I flew to your last event even though I had to be back the next day." you let out a little laugh remembering that day  "You were only there for like twelve hours." "Best twelve hours of my life," he said with a wink.

You smiled despite yourself. "We’re lucky we understand each other’s schedules. I think that’s the key." Lando let out a hum agreeing to your statement, Lando held up the next card, reading dramatically "From @.CircusFan Lando what is the coolest trick you have seen Y/n preform?" 

He let the question hang in the air for a second, glancing over at you with a grin that said he already had an answer locked and loaded. "Oh, that’s easy," he said, looking straight into the dash-mounted camera. "It was that backflip thing you did, off the mega ramp, in Vegas, I think? And then you let go mid-air and somehow landed it like it was nothing."

You smirked, eyes still on the road. "Superman seat grab backflip."  "You were just casually flying through the air like gravity was optional. I’ve never screamed so loudly watching a live stream. I called you right after, didn’t I?" Lando exclaimed, still clearly amazed by it. 

You nodded, laughing at the memory. "You were more breathless than I was." Lando turned back to the camera with a pointed look. After a couple of more questions it was time to answer the last one, Lando looked over at you, grin already tugging at the corner of his lips as he read the final card.  "Okay last question is from @.GridGossip How did you two meet" 

You groaned softly, your face already warming. "you picked this one didn't you"  Lando gave you his classic not so innocent face "Maybe" Lando said, practically vibrating in the passenger seat with excitement. "You said you not lie to the internet, remember?"

You gave him a look. "yeah but I didn't really want to expose myself to much today" Lando let out a little laugh "c'mon its a cute story" You sighed, knowing there was no way of getting out of this "Fine, we met on raya. Happy now?" You groaned not really ready for the comments you were going to receive from this, you pulled into a car park quite ready to end this video and go home to hide away,  

"At the same time," Lando insisted, pointing between the two of you. "Let’s do it properly. On three." You rolled your eyes, but held up three fingers with him. "One, two, three" "Raya," you both said, in perfect sync. Then came the laughter. Easy, familiar, the kind that felt like home.

You both interlocked hands "Okay thank you everyone for watching todays video, I'm going to go get y/n ice cream for making her answer that last question, thank you to everyone who sent in questions." You laugh, leaning in toward the camera. "If you want a part two where Lando drives and I cling to the door handle for dear life, like, comment, subscribe, all the YouTube things." 

"bye" you both said waving at the camera 

@.User This was pure chaotic gold. Y/N's so calm behind the wheel and Lando's just... there for vibes 😂 

@.User2 The thigh grab when she talked about long distance??? They're so in love it physically hurts me 

@.User3 they're giving chaotic domestic energy and i'm eating it UP.

@.User4 Thank you for feeding us with (yourship name) content

*Photo is from pinterest- however, I made the YouTube bit

please reblog, like and comment 🫶

[colonelkaboom]

Their Biggest Insecurities

✎ AN: What makes them the most insecure in your relationship? If you view them differently than I have described them here, I'd love to hear your opinion! I have no one to discuss this game with, so I'm truthfully very open to hearing other points of view. Word count: 1.1 k

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❥ Xavier - Not being enough for you: Being with you was worth spending all his stamina on, there was no doubt in Xavier’s mind about that. However once his battery ran out, there was nothing he could do but go home and sleep. You’d happily join him for a nap. The issue was that he didn’t need a nap, he needed a minimum of 10 hours of heavy sleep to reach a semi comfortable 50% before he gladly let you drain him again. He loved your energetic passion and relished in simply watching you have fun as he sat back and rested. But, of course you wanted him to join you and share new experiences. 

He wondered when you’d get sick of quiet nights on the couch playing video games and watching movies. Surely you’d grow too restless for him soon. He’d understand, of course, he’d let you go if he had to. The thought made his chest ache. Where would you go? Who would you go to when he no longer excited you? There was one question he already knew the answer to; what would happen to him, when you were no longer his? The answer is simple, yet terribly complicated and difficult at the same time. The day you decide he can’t keep up with you anymore, is the day he’ll allow his battery to permanently burn out…

❥ Zayne - Being too cold for you: Shielding his emotions and remaining professional was a quality of Zayne’s that came in very handy when working as a Doctor. Remaining cool, calm and collected in any situation was part of what made him so good at his job. The issue arose when you became such a big part of his personal life. He had his ways of showing his devotion, but moving beyond small gestures no one but you would deem affectionate seemed to be beyond his reach. He was scared.

He couldn’t help but fear that perhaps you’d want more. That you’d want someone who would dare hold your hand in the presence of others. Someone brave enough to kiss you with all the passion he felt, every single time your lips touched his. Someone who was able to shout from the rooftops, for the whole world to hear, that he loved you. Someone who wore his emotions proudly, rather than keeping them hidden underneath small smirks and gently furrowed brows. Your continuous reassurance and reminders that you could read him like an open book, brought him little comfort. In fact, it simply made him more uncertain, assuming this meant his emotions were slipping through the cracks at a rate he could not keep up with...

❥ Rafayel - Being too much for you: Rafayel knew who he was, confident, talented, handsome, all laced with a spellbinding dramatic flare that only he was capable of wielding. But he was also emotional, needy and at times unreliable. All these qualities, both good and bad, could only amount to one thing; Too much. He swore he could sense it radiating from you at times, you were annoyed at him. He took it one sassy comment too far this time. It was supposed to be funny, but perhaps you were not in the mood for his humor today. Your busy work life drained you, leaving no patience for his antics. You couldn’t handle him. 

He’d attempted to keep his distance. Adopt a more quiet persona. But he needed your presence like he needed the ocean, he simply could not breathe without you. There I go again, being too much, too needy… He’d attempted to communicate his insecurities to you, and you did your best to ease his worry. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simply too much for you. You’d realize sooner or later and leave him stranded and alone once more… 

❥ Sylus - Being feared by you: When he finally found you and you couldn’t resonate with him, he was terrified. The thought of you being afraid and disgusted by him made his usually hard exterior slowly crumble. No one could see it, not even you, but he was aching. In order to keep the N109 Zone his domain, being feared was a necessity. But you had no reason to fear him, why were you so scared? He’d never hurt you, surely you knew that? 

As you slowly warmed up to him, he dared melt furter into you. Yet, every time he saw you, he’d still have that lingering ache threatening his hard facade. Was there any trace of his business visible on him? Any blood from his enemies? Soot and ash from a bad deal going up in flames? Any trace of the dangerous activities he partook in, all in the name of Onychinus? How much of his villainous lifestyle would it take for you to finally back away? How much more could you handle before he’d find you quivering in a corner staring at him with tears in your eyes? He hoped he would never learn the answer to all these questions burning a hole in his heart. He’d rather not know... 

❥ Caleb - Being rejected by you: He’d spent his whole life catering to your every need, always doing his very best to make sure you had everything you wanted. He loved watching you smile, be happy, do well in school and have the privilege of witnessing you growing into the beautiful woman you are today. But most of all he loved when he was able to be part of or completely responsible for your happiness. 

That is why the distance that occasionally grew between you was so hard for him to handle. He lived for your satisfaction, and when you claimed that you didn’t need him or wanted to do something without his help, a small part of his heart broke. You would be right there to glue it back on, but as more and more pieces would break you simply couldn’t keep up with the maintenance he silently required. He asked too much of you, without asking anything of you at all, he knew that. How honest could he be without risking you finally shutting him down and backing away from him? You knew he was devoted to you, but his everlasting silence on just how devoted he actually was remained a painfully obvious secret. 

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⋆ Read more ⋆ Masterlist ⋆

- Colonel Kaboom

[oldermenfucker]

Beautiful Reflection | J. Abbot

summary: Jack shows you what happens when you are mean to the body he worships daily.

warnings: 18+ mdni! CHUBBY!reader (chubby or plus sized, no difference just a gorgeous girl who has stomach rolls and love handles and thick thighs teehe) Smut, porn without plot, Jack being a MUNCH, oral(f), p in v, biceps choking, mirror sex, just Jack being a gorgeous dom to his chubby girl, body image issues, body dysmorphia, creampie, no protection, fingering, insecurities, stretch marks, Jack 🤝🏻 nasty backshots, mentions of Jack’s amputation, NO BETA!! English isn’t my first language<3

word count: 2.1k+

an: FIRST JACK FIC YES LETS GO AAAAAAAAA!!!! I’m also deeply open to discuss ideas and write drabbles!! this one was pretty self indulged because I just needed to write sth about my fave being like this 😭😭

comments and reblogs are so appreciated!!

It is strange to go from covering yourself with Jack’s very, very baggy hoodies and avoiding the mirrors around the house to clutching Jack’s head as he feasts on you with abandon, fully naked and withering under his touch.

  You have been pushing Jack away for the past few months, and he, ever the gentleman, respected your wishes, but when he found you today on the verge of tears as you poked around your body, looking at the new red stretch marks forming on your love handles, he had enough.

  That is what got you into this position; legs spread, Jack’s thin lips sucking harshly on your clit while he kneads the fat of your thighs, growling like a dog in heat when you squeeze your legs, trying to close them around his head.

  “Fuckin’ perfect,” his words come out in a groan, flattening his tongue on your folds as he laps up your essence like he has been left thirsty for days, “Tastes like nectar, baby.”

  “Jack—“ you gasp, bucking your hips desperately into his face, threading your fingers through the salt and pepper curls on his head as he detaches himself from you, grinning devilishly when you whine at the loss of contact.

  “What happened, baby?” He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you playfully, tapping your thighs with his palms, “You want me to stop?”

  “No! No!” You rush the words out, trying to drag him down to your heat again, but he does not budge, craning his neck back to catch your wrist with his lips, kissing his way up to your fingers, taking them into his mouth while locking his hazel eyes with your glassy ones, twirling his tongue around the digits.

  “Jack, please!”

  “Please, what, baby?” He lets go of your fingers with a lewd ‘pop’ and you watch his grin widen when you throw your head back in frustration, “Did you learn your lesson or should I continue?”

  “Ngh, please, just let me come!” You cry out, letting go of his hair to fist the sheets when he blows gently on your throbbing clit, the cold air making you tremble slightly.

  Jack Abbot is a menace in bed; he gives and gives until he is sure he has nothing to offer, and for you to feel fulfilled for days, he gets an undeniable satisfaction of being the only one who can do that to you.

  But now, he is on a mission. He can’t take you being mean to yourself, not today, not ever. He has done everything during your relationship to make you feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he has done an excellent job, but even he can’t stop the destructive thoughts from tumbling their way into your head sometimes.

  Time to put a stop to that.

  “I asked you a question,” he slaps the back of your thoughts gently, just rough enough to make a delicious sting across your skin, “And I need an answer, cause, baby, ain’t no way someone’s gonna be mean to the body I fucking adore and I let it slide.”

  “Please— fuck, okay! Okay!” You groan, chest heaving as you try to sit up on your elbows, looking into Jack’s eyes with a silent plea, “I learned my lesson. Please, I need to come—“

  “Did you now?” He chuckles darkly, sinking his teeth into your inner thigh deep enough to earn a delicious moan from you, pulling back to see his bite mark forming on your flesh, “I don’t think you did, though, baby.”

  “I swear!” You reply quickly, eyes wide and needy, and the sight of Jack’s unraveled curly hair and handsome face between your legs is making your heart beat so much faster, “I’ll never do that again—“

  “Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be for me,” he whispers against your soaked pussy lips, his warm breath fanning over your sex, “Because I’d be so so sad if I don’t get to come inside my pretty girl tonight. Now, are you my pretty girl?”

  “Yeah,” you nod, one hand reaching for his face, biting your lip as you stroke the stubble on his cheek, “I’m your pretty girl.”

  “I don’t think you believe in it as much as I do,” he kisses his teeth, kissing your navel before diving back inside, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, making your hands clench into his hair, “But don’t worry, baby, it’s my job to show you how fucking perfect you actually are.”

  He presses his face into your cunt, moving his tongue in motions that have you falling back on the mattress, one hand in his hair and the other trying to ground you by digging into the bedsheets.

  You throw your head back when he pushes a finger inside you, and your eyes widen when you notice the full-length mirror standing right next to the wall. 

  The image is lewd, pornographic even; you can see the arch of your back with how high you are thrusting your hips into Jack’s face, and Jack… fuck, only his gray hair is visible but knowing who is between your thighs, fucking you with a finger and a mouth that can do magics is enough to make your head spin.

  “Fuck, Jack! I need to come, please,” you whine in pleasure when he adds a second finger inside you, curling them in and fucking you faster with them, hitting that sweet spot over and over.

  He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves. You can feel his smirk as your legs begin to shake around his head, and he takes pride in giving you what you truly deserve.

  Your orgasm washes over you, euphoria crashing against your veins as you quiver and drop back on the bed, arms falling limply next to your body as he keeps going and going to the point you have to literally pull him off by the roots of his hair.

  “I wish I could feast on you every day,” he whispers as he trails his kisses up your stomach, his rough fingers gliding over your skin gently, sucking love marks on every inch he can reach.

  “You already do that, love,” you sigh, biting your lip as you try to catch your breath, enjoying the contrast of the t-shirt he is still wearing against your exposed chest, but the urge to feel his skin overcomes you suddenly, “Take it off, please?”

  “Whatever my pretty baby says,” he kisses the line of your breast one last time before he sits on his knees between your spread legs, grabbing the back of his t-shirt before pulling it off in one move, sighing as the air in the room his his heated body.

  He nearly laughs out loud when he sees how you desperately reach for his chest. So he leans down completely, kissing your forehead while you caress the soft gray chest hairs, slowly moving down the hem of his boxers, biting your lips when you notice how hard he is for you.

  He looks down, tracing your stretch marks with the tip of his fingers, smiling when he notices your little gasp, leaning down to kiss on the marks, leaving his own red marks next to them as if he is drawing on the canvas of your body.

  “Jack…”

  “Shh, let me appreciate you,” he fixes you with a quick glare, kissing the new red lines, following the path from your upper thigh to your hips, “Fucking hell, baby, I would tie you up next time if you hide this from me.”

  “If a threat, then why does it sound like a promise?” You bite your lip, looking up at him, matching his grin shyly, but your smile soon turns into a shocked gasp when Jack closes your legs and grabs your sides, flipping you over on your stomach.

  “Watch it,” he grabs your hips and pulls them up, groaning when his eyes fall on the globes of your ass, kneading them roughly before he leans down to kiss the curve of your spine, “Maybe I should fuck some sense into you, yeah? Make sure you know how gorgeous you are, hmm?”

  “Please,” you wiggle against him, resting your forehead on the cold sheets under you, feeling how he presses his covered cock against your slit, “Need it, Jack. Need to feel pretty…”

  “I got you, baby,” he says and takes his boxers off, dropping them on the floor before he grabs himself by the base, stroking his cock before he lines himself up with your dripping entrance, “Gonna give you the best dick of your life, my prettiest girl.”

  “Yes, ah…” You moan when he pushes inside slowly, not stopping until he is fully sheathed inside you. You both take a deep breath, trying not to lose yourself in pleasure before you can even start.

  “Look at yourself in the mirror,” Jack groans, pulling his hips back before he thrusts forward, his thighs lower abdomen slapping against your asscheeks, “Look at my pretty girl, look how pretty she takes my cock.”

  You look up, finding yourself and Jack in the most obscene position; your lips are swollen, eyes hazy with pure pleasure, and Jack looking like a god with his broad chest and strong arms, fucking you like his only purpose in life is making you peak.

  His grip tightens on your love handles, quickening his pace as he fucks you with a newfound passion, driving his cock further into your cunt, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your upperbody lying flat on the bed as Jack fucks you.

  “I said, look at yourself.” You don’t listen, you can’t, because honestly, how could you? How could you concentrate on anything but the way his fat cock is driving inside your cunt.

  He snaps his hips harder into yours, the sensation of your tight warm walls consuming him, making him throw his head back and groan, but when you don’t answer, he pushes your ass down with his hands, leaning down until his entire chest is pressed to your back.

  “I said look at yourself,” he groans into your ear, wrapping his arm around your neck gently, your chin resting over his biceps as he presses in slowly, testing the waters but when he sees how your lips fall apart and you moan his name, he flexes his arm further, “Be good and look how pretty you look when you get fucked.”

  His words have you clenching around him, making him groan loudly into your ear, his forehead resting on the side of your head, moving his hips faster and rougher back and forth, grinding himself into you as if he wishes to carve the shape of his cock inside you.

  You open your eyes as best as you can, nearly drooling at the sight of his bulging biceps against your neck, restricting your airway enough to make your mind go blank with pleasure.

  The tight knot in your lower stomach finally breaks and you gush around Jack’s thick cock, coming with a scream of his name, biting down his muscles to muffle the loud cries of his name.

  “Fuck, fuck, baby—“ he groans, his breath catching in his throat as he groans into your ear, thrusting his cock into your cunt before his movement halts and you feel his warm cum filling you. His dick twitches inside you, shooting ropes of his seed into you, giving you everything he has to offer.

  He lies on top of you for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breath while he distracts himself by kissing your shoulder, moving to your face, gently pushing the hair off your face to peck the corner of your mouth.

  “Look,” he gently moves his arm so he can grab your jaw in his palm softly, pressing his cheek against yours as the two of you look at your reflection, “Look how pretty you are.”

  “Jack,” your lips wobble as he looks at you through the mirror, his hazel eyes holding nothing but undying love and devotion, “I love you.”

  “I love you so much,” he smiles, rubbing the roughness of his stubble on your cheek, making you giggle, “Never shy away from me. It doesn’t matter how many times you slip away, I will grab you and pull you back because you are… fucking perfect. The most beautiful, the most perfect face with the… gosh, the prettiest body. I’ve never seen anyone as blindingly beautiful as you.”

  He kisses the single tear that falls from your lashes, letting his lips linger on your cheek before he takes most of his weight off you, never breaking eye contact in the mirror.

  “You do the same when I nearly trip over the edge of the hospital’s roof. You give me hope, a reason to keep going. You chose me, an amputee, a vet, a wounded soldier, you see the beauty in me at the times I can’t, and I want you to see the same in yourself.”

[aishaspen]

how i met your mother | james potter + sirius black

summary: james decides to tell his son the story of how he met his mother.

warnings: the italics indicate present time. swearing, sexual innuendos, underage drinking, use of Y/N. reader is implied to be of another house. there's like ONE crumb of sirius x reader. no-voldemort au, but the canon-compliant bigotry still exists.

a/n: i recently started rewatching himym which prompted me to write a marauders fanfic haha. anyways, i hope you guys like this and i’m always open to criticism and input as long as it is respectful!

“Harry!” The sixteen year old boy heard his father’s voice boom across the house, and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dad?” Harry answered, loudly enough for his father to hear. He sat up in his sheets and reached for his glasses, putting them on and getting out of the bed.

There was a beat of silence. Harry furrowed his brows at it, and walked out of his room.

“Dad?” Harry called, before James finally answered.

“Yes, come into the living room! I wanted to talk to you about something.” James responded, and his voice sounded entirely too chirpy for his son’s liking.

Harry frowned for a moment, before his eyes widened in pure horror. He took a glance into his room, and saw the bottom of an empty bottle of firewhiskey hidden lousily beneath the bed.

Merlin, him and Ron were so stupid!

Harry took a few deep breaths, and walked down the stairs. When he walked into the living room, he saw that his father was already sitting on the couch, with a smile on his face, whose meaning Harry couldn't quite decipher.

“Sit, kiddo.” James looked up at his son, and gestured towards a cushioned chair.

The younger boy gulped nervously, before nodding and sitting down in the chair. Then, he peeked up at his father.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Talk to me about what?” Maybe if he made his father think that he was being paranoid and delusional, he would feel guilty and drop the talk about the alcohol. Yeah, this was brilliant.

James’ eyebrows furrowed for a moment at his son’s strange tone, before shaking it off and answering his question.

“It’s something important, Harry. I hope you understand.”

“Am I being punished for something? Is this about me and Ron stealing your firewhiskey?”

“You lads stole my- nevermind. I am not going to punish you for anything Harry. This is about your mother.” James looked at his son expectantly as he waited for his reaction.

“What about mum?” Harry was both confused yet curious about what his father had to say, as it was on rare occasion that he ever spoke of mum. Harry had been begging him for scraps for an entire year, before he finally gave up and just stopped asking.

The younger Potter looked at the family photo on the wall for a moment, seeing his mum holding a toddler version of himself, while her and his dad laughed out at something. It had been his favourite photo.  

“Harry, I want you to listen to me carefully and patiently now. Because today, I am going to tell you the story of how I met your mother.”

It had been James Potter’s fourth year at Hogwarts, when he saw her for the first time.

And although neither of them knew it yet, that year was going to change their lives forever, for better or for worse.

They met at a Gryffindor party. Alice Fortesque’s courtesy.

“Now Harry, I am not trying to make excuses for myself or anything, but you need to know one thing.”

“What?” Harry wanted to tell his father that it did awfully sound a lot like he was making excuses for himself, but decided to bite his tongue on the matter.

“When I was at Hogwarts, I was not known as a cool popular guy, but an annoying git.”

“That’s not an unknown or surprising fact in any way whatsoever, dad.”

James decided to ignore his son’s jibe, and continued.

“I was also a really huge hopeless romantic.” James said, and Harry raised his eyebrows. But to be fair, he didn't really find it extremely difficult to believe.

James and Sirius were laughing to themselves as they reminisced about one of their old pranks, most probably aimed towards Snivellus.

“To hell with him, by the way.” James interrupted suddenly, making his son furrow his brows. Then he shrugged and nodded, because he didn't hold much love for his potions professor either.

He felt her before he saw her.

She came in through the portrait walking with a gaggle of girls surrounding her, all of them listening closely to what she had to say. As she gestured for the girls to spread out in the party, one of her friends—James had no idea about the relationship they shared—decided to stick by her.

So there she was, talking and laughing animatedly with her friend, while all he did was stare at her as if he would stare at a humongous carrot cake.

James’ eyes turned into hearts as she looked back at him, and gave him a small smile. Then she looked back at her friend and nodded along to whatever the girl was saying.

“It was like something from an old movie. When the sailor sees the beautiful girl across the crowded room and turns to his friend to say ‘See that girl over there? I am gonna marry her someday.’” James’ voice was animated as he talked, and Harry blamed the firewhiskey for the way his heart melted at his father’s words. Him and Mum were cute.

James felt his best friend’s presence behind him again, and immediately turned to him.

“Oye Sirius, see that girl over there?” James pointed his head in her direction, and Sirius looked at her as she talked to her friend.

“Oh yeah, you just know she likes it dirty.” He smirked to himself as he kept his eyes on her. James frowned at his friend's crass words, before rolling his eyes and going back to staring at the beautiful stranger.

As she was finally left alone by her companion, James found himself walking towards her.

“Hey, I’m-”

“I know who you are, Potter.” She interrupted him suddenly, and an awkward grin settled on his face. He sheepishly nodded, before looking back up at her. Of course she knew him. He had spent the last three years of his life extensively pranking people in each and every corner of Hogwarts.

“I saw you across the room.” What the fuck was that sentence? Obviously he saw her across the room, Merlin he was an idiot!

At hearing his words, a small smile paved its way onto her lips. Maybe she found his awkwardness cute? It wasn’t a regular occurrence for the Marauders—except for Sirius, of course—to involve themselves with girls. Especially not girls like the one standing in front of him.

“I noticed.”

“Um, brilliant! So, I was wondering if I… I mean if you want to, of course…” James sputtered out the words clumsily, before one of her friends walked towards her, and without any form of warning, pulled her towards a corner. James resisted the strongest urge to roll his eyes at the annoying friend;

The girl stood quietly as she listened to her friend rant about something or the other in extensive detail. James patiently waited for her to finish, and come back to him.

And when she did, a smile broke out on his face, managing to show off all 32 of his teeth. He swore he saw the girl smile as well.

“Hey, listen… My friend is having some issues, so I gotta deal with that. Can we put this conversation on hold?” James’ face fell for a moment as he took her words in. This was not fair! At all!

“But… Do you wanna do something fun before I go?”

“I’m always in to do something fun.” He grinned and this time, the girl smiled at him fully.

“In the next three seconds, I’m gonna throw a drink in your face and call you a jerk loud enough for the entire party to hear.

“Oh that's a good pla- wait what?” His voice came out way more high pitched than he wanted it to, but the girl had already put her plan in motion.

“JERK!” The girl yelled, and before James could respond, a cold drink was being thrown on his face, drenching both his skin and his frames.

There were a few gasps and murmurs in the room, as everyone turned to look at the pair. James swore that he heard Peter guffaw. Sirius, on the other hand, was laughing openly, while Remus awkwardly tried to hide his grin with his hand.

James’ mouth opened wide in surprise, and he looked at the girl. Then, a grin broke out on his face. And to his wonder and fortune, she smiled back at him.

“That was fun.” her voice was amused as she set the cup down, while never breaking eye contact with the bespectacled boy.

“See you around, Potter.” Her eyes twinkled, and James swore he could hear his own heartbeat fasten at the speed of light.

Then, she threw him a wink and turned towards the exit, while his eyes kept following her till she was completely out of sight.

James felt as if he was waking up from a daydream. He didn't even know this girl’s name, but the only thing his head could think of was how he was already completely in love with her. What the fuck was happening to him?

It was decided then, He was going to marry this girl someday.

“And that, Harry, is How I met your Aunt Y/N.”

“WHAT?”

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[daycourtofficial]

Let’s play restaurant

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 850 | warnings: none

Summary: your son’s version of playing is confusing, but Eris is surprisingly good at any games he wants to play

A/N: gingerfucker??? In this economy??? this is part of my gingerfucker series but can be read on its own. Happy ‘heirs’ day for @sjmxreaderweek !!

“Will anyone be joining you today?” Eris hums at the question, putting down the empty cup and lowering his paper to look at the source of the voice.

“My wife will be joining me shortly.”

“Sir,” the little boy stresses, huffing lightly, “will she be here soon? We are busy today.”

The little boy sweeps his arms out, and Eris surveys the ‘restaurant’. Tiny tables were set up all around, each one having a plushie or wooden toy sitting at them, empty tea cups set in front of them. A few have tiny books sitting on the table with them.

“My apologies, good sir. My wife is just a bit slow, we have a new baby-“

“I don’t have time, I have a restaurant to run!” He tsks, clearly in distress over Eris’s response. Eris holds his hands up in surrender, as Atlas huffs and turns away, running interference with his other tables. The bundle of papers in his hands are crumbled as he moves to take an order from the blue elephant stuffed animal.

Red hair flops into his son’s eyes as he nods, holding a short stick onto the paper to jot down the order. He grips the stick with his fist, pretending to write down some unheard order.

Atlas moves to another table, his beloved dog Pumpkin sitting in a bed beneath it, tumbling slightly before her. His little brows knit together, his tongue poking out in concentration as he listens to the silence.

“Excuse me?” Atlas sighs loudly at his father’s question, a small “excuse me” coming from him before turning to face his father.

“Can I order before she gets here?”

Atlas’s eyebrows furrow, a tiny wrinkle trying to make itself known on his small face, “no, mommy needs to be here.”

“Not even if I know what she would order?”

“You’re wrong?”

The question is choppy, but Eris knows what he means. A few days ago he had mixed up his morning drinks, giving his mate his black coffee instead of her usual. She had made a face and laughed it off, telling him he got it wrong.

“I won’t be wrong.” Atlas’s nose crinkles, surely about to start an argument. It is a bit unsettling seeing so much of your own face reflected back to oneself, especially in moments of distress or annoyance.

“I can give you food. Mommy can wait.”

Eris sighs, turning back to the paper in his hands, scrutinizing over his decision. At least Atlas relented for once.

“I’ll take your finest apple, please.”

Atlas teeters off, short legs making him run more than walk. Small hands presented Eris with an apple. The male hadn’t expected a real apple, anticipating his son handing him some random toy he would pretend was an apple. Questions filled his head: where did he get it from and how long had he had the apple? How had no one noticed? And, perhaps most importantly, how clean was it?

“It’s our rarest apple, worth lots of gold dollars.”

Eris accepted the apple, rotating it in his hands before taking a loud bite out of it. His son bellowed a shriek, clambering up his father’s legs, trying to reach the apple. Eris would let him climb nearly up his entire lap before straightening his legs, causing the toddler to slide back down.

“You’re not supposed to eat it!”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“It’s special!” Atlas’s response did not answer Eris’s question, the young boy even more upset with each second. His face started turning red, big fat tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. Before it could turn into a full blown tantrum, the door opened, diverting Atlas’s attention.

Atlas pushed off his dad’s chest, nearly falling face first on the floor in his scramble to see his mom. Eris grabs the back of his shirt, holding him back. His legs kicked out from beneath, trying to wiggle out of his dad’s grasp.

Eris let go once he started whining. Grabby hands reach out until he’s able to touch the swollen belly he wants, rubbing a greedy hand across the front.

“Morning!” He yells, causing you to wince slightly. You rub his head, unruly red curls tangling in your fingers. Atlas pulls back, remembering the game he was playing.

“You can sit with dada.” He points you in his direction, as if you could confuse him for the stuffed animals or Pumpkin. You follow him, taking the seat next to Eris, slowly falling into the chair Eris pulled out for you.

“Thank you both for waiting.” Atlas shrugs, already off to check on the other tables again.

“You play so well with him, why can’t you play like this with Nyx?”

“Nyx’s rules when playing don’t make any sense.”

“He just gave you an apple for the cost of a carriage.”

To further your point, he took a big bite out of the apple, relishing in the fresh taste of it.

“He’s a good salesman.”

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Gingerfucker taglist: @bookwormysblog @talesofadragon @saltedcoffeescotch

[bettelaboure]

⊹Tell Me To Stop⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

seventh part in series "Course in Chemistry"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual content, embarrassment, mature language, peer pressure, and high school dynamics involving gossip and judgment

⊹ Summary: Y/N helps Seung-Hyun explore his sexual curiosity through an intimate and consensual encounter that begins with erotic media and leads to mutual physical exploration

⊹ Author's note: This one is a bit bit longer, full of shit show, so grab popcorn and let's go! we are nearly at the end

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Urgh! I can't do this!" You threw your hands in the air and slammed them onto the floor, burying your face in your palms.

Jae-mi looked up from her bed to see you sprawled out on her bedroom floor, surrounded by textbooks and notes, clearly overwhelmed by the complexity of Present Continuous.

"Do what?" she asked, shutting her Spanish textbook, eyeing your frustration with a mix of concern and amusement.

"This." You gestured to the textbook in front of you. "It's all so..."

"Boring?"

"Complicated," you huffed, rubbing your hands over your face. "Why can't they just make it like a fun story or give step-by-step instructions that make sense?"

"Because it's a textbook, not a bestselling novel," Jae-mi teased as she joined you on the floor. She glanced at your notebook. "What's that?"

"A snowman eating its own nose," you muttered.

"Nice," she said dryly.

You groaned and slapped the book closed. Stupid book. Whoever created textbooks should be jailed for the mass destruction of teenage happiness.

"Are you and Choi Seung-Hyun seriously done?" Jae-mi asked, her voice softer now.

You rolled your eyes. "You say that like we were ever in a relationship."

"You kind of were," she said, shrugging.

You shot her a glare, and she lifted her hands in surrender. "Okay, more like in a weird tutor-student-situationship-friends-with-benefits vibe."

You chuckled, exhaling. "Please. Seung-Hyun and I were never friends." Were you? Did he think of you that way? You spent a lot of time together, after all.

"You did spend a lot of time with each other," she echoed your thoughts. "And you both saw each other in... personal ways."

Very personal. You gave him a hand-job and he saw you naked. That was hard to ignore.

"Look, all I'm saying is maybe you should talk to him. You clearly need him."

"I do not need him!" you snapped.

"Okay!" she backed off with raised hands. "But then how are you going to get your grades up?"

Good question.

"Maybe I'll drop out and become a stripper," you mumbled.

Jae-mi gave you a deadpan look. "You can’t even touch your toes. How would you do the splits on a pole?"

"I can learn!"

"You can also learn how English sentences work," she said, tapping the textbook.

You groaned again. Why was she always right?

Back in class, you were calculating how many minutes were left before you either escaped or hurled yourself out the window. Mrs. Arakaki had been glaring at you like you’d insulted her ancestors. Her constant nagging, condescending tone, and unfair callouts made it impossible to behave.

You’d once gotten a week’s detention for threatening to paint the classroom red because she wouldn’t let you go to the bathroom during your period.

"Y/N," she called, eyes narrowing. "今日はどうですか?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"今日は元気ですか?" Choi Seung-Hyun, seated behind you, gestured for you to respond.

"Are you on drugs?" you muttered. He raised a brow.

"Seriously?" he pressed. "How are you today, Y/N?"

What was he doing?

"Fine. I got shampoo in my eyes this morning, but I’m still alive."

He chuckled, leaning back.

"So... good? Say it. '良い.'"

"良い," you tried. He nodded encouragingly.

"So, 今日はどうですか?"

You smiled, something clicking.

"良い," you answered again.

The look on Mrs. Arakaki’s face dropped. You never responded in Japanese, and your tiny victory made you glow with pride. You wanted to rub it in her face.

You actually got something right.

Because of him.

Damn it. No, not because of him. You don’t need him. You told him that. And Y/N doesn’t go back on her word.

The cafeteria hadn't changed much since the Se-mi disaster. She hadn’t shown her face since, and neither had Jun-ho. Drama queen.

Jae-mi was deep in her history notes, preparing to destroy Young-bae in their next class.

"You know you’ll look back and wonder why you were so obsessed with beating some guy," you said lazily.

The glare she shot you could have killed.

"I will revel in it. He's Satan's twin, and I will vanquish him."

"Maybe you two should just have angry sex and get it over with."

Now the glare had grown murderous.

"That’s the most horrifying image I’ve ever imagined," she hissed.

Please. If only she knew.

"Suit yourself," you murmured, stabbing your salad.

Later, standing at your locker, you fixed your hair and tried to remember what had possessed you to make a deal with Choi Seung-Hyun. What were you thinking?

How could someone so disinterested in school thrive with a tutor like him? And how could you turn someone like him—a total newbie to sex—into anything remotely confident? The plan had been doomed from the start.

You turned around—and there he was.

Leaning against the wall, book in hand, he was staring at someone else.

Se-mi.

She came back to school.

With her blonde hair glowing in the light, flute case in hand, she looked like an angel. Everything you weren’t. Innocent. Sweet. Happy. She was the type of girl who looked like she erased the darkness from a room.

Kinder. More genuine. But with a biteful tongue.

You watched his eyes follow her like she was the only thing that existed. You wondered what he was thinking. Was it about her? About the date he had planned? About the books he read?

Was she the one he pictured?

When you kissed him, when you touched him, when he whispered beautiful against your skin—had he meant you?

Or had he meant her?

The question echoed in your mind, pounding like a second heartbeat.

You were so lost in it that you didn’t notice the jocks approach.

One of them slapped the book from his hands. Another shoved him.

"Weirdo," one sneered.

You clenched your fists.

You wanted to say something.

But before you could, the PA system crackled:

"CAN MISS KIM JAE-MI AND L/N Y/N PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. THANK YOU."

Silence.

Everyone turned to look—including Seung-Hyun, Se-mi, and the jocks.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Oh god.

What now?

The last thing you expected to see in the Principal's office was Jae-mi sitting anxiously across from Mr. Park's desk.

Mr. Park always carried himself like he had a permanent stick lodged somewhere unfortunate. He wasn’t just strict—he was insufferably smug, and while you usually admired people who owned their power unapologetically, with him it was different. He was the kind of authority figure that made you want to rip your own ears off just so you wouldn’t have to listen to his self-righteous, monotone squawking.

"Y/N," he acknowledged dryly as you walked in. "Sit."

You didn’t protest. You weren’t even entirely sure why you were here, and antagonizing Mr. Park was only going to make it worse. You took the seat beside Jae-mi, whose face was pale and tight with worry. She wasn’t used to being summoned for anything less than praise.

"I’m sure you’re both aware of the diary pages that have been circulating around school," Mr. Park began.

Your eyes met Jae-mi’s. Shit.

"And I received a very concerned call from Dr. Kang regarding the vulgar invasion of his daughter’s privacy."

Here it comes.

"I have strong reason to believe you two are behind this," he continued.

"And what makes you think that?" you asked, arms crossed, tone defiant.

Mr. Park smirked with satisfaction as he rotated his monitor toward you both. "I’m so glad you asked. Vice Principal Seo installed new CCTV cameras around campus recently. A very wise move, it turns out."

Your jaw practically hit the floor. There you were on the screen—both you and Jae-mi—tossing printed copies of Se-mi’s diary into the air like flower petals at a wedding.

Well, shit.

"Do you have CCTV everywhere, Mr. Park? Even in storage closets? What’s next, hidden mics in the locker room?" you muttered under your breath, your sarcastic smile barely hiding your panic. Mr. Park had always shown a little too much leniency toward the football team, especially Jun-ho.

"I’d be careful with that tone, Y/N, unless you want your punishment doubled," he warned before turning to Jae-mi. "Miss Kim. I expected better from you. You can kiss “Best Student” award goodbye."

"Jae-mi didn’t do it!" you burst out. No way were you dragging her down with you. She had worked too hard for too long for this to be the reason her shot at that award was taken away.

"Y/N, it’s clear—"

"I made her do it!" you blurted. Jae-mi whipped her head toward you, eyes wide. "I thought if the perfect student was involved, I’d have a better shot at avoiding punishment. I told her I’d spread a rumor about her hooking up in the boys’ locker room if she didn’t help."

Mr. Kim's eyes narrowed as he turned to Jae-mi. "Is this true, Miss Kim?"

You kicked her ankle beneath the desk.

"Y-Yes, sir," she stammered, eyes downcast. You knew it killed her to lie.

Mr. Kim sighed dramatically, tapping his foot. "You may go, Miss Kim. I apologize for the trouble."

She glanced at you, conflicted, but you nodded, silently telling her it was okay. The moment the door shut, Mr. Kim locked his death glare on you.

"In all my years, I’ve never seen such a vile act of bullying—"

"Bullying? That’s a reach," you scoffed. If anything, Se-mi was the queen of emotional terrorism. She looked like angel, but she wasn’t a less bitch than you.

"You’ve humiliated that poor girl and tarnished this school’s reputation. And to blackmail another student? Frankly, I’m not surprised. You’ve been a handful since day one."

"You’re welcome," you muttered.

"So here’s your punishment. Luckily for you, both of Se-mi’s parents work at the hospital, and they’ve generously agreed to offer you community service there."

Your mouth fell open. "Community service? What do I look like, a criminal?!"

"It’ll look far better than suspension on your college applications. Which, I’ve heard, are not going too well."

Damn it, In-su.

"That’s none of your business," you grumbled, slumping back in your chair.

"Perhaps not. But I’d hope you take this as a chance to grow."

What was this, a sermon?

You didn’t have a witty comeback. Honestly, you didn’t want your parents hearing about this. Or anything else, for that matter.

When you were finally dismissed, Jae-mi was waiting outside, chewing on her lip.

"What happened?!" she whisper-shouted, dragging you into the corridor. "You shouldn’t have done that! I didn’t ask you to—"

"It’s fine," you reassured her, holding her by the shoulders. "I didn’t even get suspended."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got community service at the hospital instead. Apparently, Se-mi’s parents work there."

Jae-mi blinked. "Community service? What are you, an inmate?"

"That’s what I said! But hey, better than suspension."

"And it’ll look better on your college applications," she said pointedly.

"Don’t remind me," you muttered, eyes scanning the now-empty halls. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"We missed last period. They’ve probably gone home."

Great. You finally started trying to do better in school, and Mr. Park decided the best way to reward you was to drag you back to rock bottom with a lecture and hospital labor.

Awesome.

"Hello again, Y/N."

"In-su," you reply, narrowing your eyes with spite.

You still can’t believe he snitched to Principal Park about your college situation. And being in the guidance counselor's office? Still feels like punishment.

"I'm sure you know why you're here."

There are so many reasons you could be here, you might as well reach into the grab bag of disaster and see what flavor of hell you’ve drawn today.

"You found the bag of crack in my locker?"

In-su’s eyes go wide, and you chuckle. "Relax. It was a joke."

"You shouldn’t joke about those things, Y/N," he says sternly.

"And you shouldn’t be spreading my private business to Principal Park," you fire back. Checkmate.

In-su sighs, folding his arms. "I have to put all your info on ProMonitor. Only me and Principal Park have access."

Great. That... actually makes sense.

You groan. "Then what do you want now?" If he’s gearing up for another inspirational speech, you're going straight through the nearest window.

"Mr. Kim reported that Choi Seung-Hyun is no longer tutoring you."

You blink. Huh. You figured Seung-Hyun would quietly ghost the tutoring agreement, not actually file it with the administration. Weirdly official. Weirdly painful.

"Yeah, so?"

"He told Mr. Kim you weren’t doing the work."

Snake.

"And?"

In-su leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Y/N, right now it’s really looking like you're repeating the year."

"What?!" Panic shoots through your chest, even though you knew this was coming. You thought maybe you could wing it alone. "I can do this on my own!"

"Then let me ask you something." In-su adjusts his glasses—purely for aesthetic, you’re sure. "Tell me something in Japanese."

You squint at him. Is he serious?

"Um, what?"

"Say anything. In Japanese. Go ahead."

You wiggle uncomfortably in your seat. "Uh... 私の名前は—"

"Something complex, Y/N."

"Well, I don’t know anything complex!"

"Okay. Chemical symbol for gold?"

"Gd—"

"What form do muscles store glucose in?"

"Square—?"

"Two examples of collecting data?"

"Uhhh..."

"When did the World War II end?"

"1940...?"

In-su gives you a look. You sigh and throw your hands up. "I don’t know, okay?!"

He smiles like he’s just checkmated you in 3D chess.

"I’m gonna be real with you, Y/N."

"You always are," you mutter under your breath.

"I really don’t want you repeating a year," he says. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off. "Believe it or not, I want every student to succeed. But you? You're not even trying. No effort, no graduation."

You glare past him at the tacky motivational poster behind his head. "You don’t succeed," you say flatly.

"Exactly!" In-su beams.

Someone, somewhere, cue the funeral music.

"Now, I don’t know what happened between you and Seung-Hyun," he continues.

Clothes happened. That’s what. And Se-mi.

"But I suggest you talk it out and get back on track."

"Can’t I just get another tutor?" you groan.

"Choi Seung-Hyun is one of the best students here. Mr. Kim specifically matched him to you. His advice? Worth taking."

You snatch your bag. "You really enjoy making my life hell, don’t you?"

"At least I’m making a difference!" he chirps, giving you a thumbs-up as you storm out.

"Déjà vu," Jae-mi whispers beside you as you crouch behind the library shelves.

You know exactly what she means. It feels like forever ago that you cornered Seung-Hyun here and begged him to tutor you. Now here you are again.

"You got a game plan?" she asks.

Not exactly. You run through possible intros.

Hey Seung-Hyun, remember when I called you a dick and said no one would ever like you? Let’s be friends again, yeah?

No.

Hey, remember when you called me pathetic? Well, you were right.

Definitely not.

If you don’t tutor me, I’m going to jab my pencil through your eye socket.

Okay, dial it down.

"He’s moving!" Jae-mi hisses.

"What?"

Before you can react, she shoves you into the next aisle—right into Seung-Hyun’s path as he slides a book back onto the shelf.

You smooth your skirt, run your fingers through your hair. You got this.

You grab the closest book and approach him.

"Hey," you say sweetly. "Can you put this back for me?"

He turns, eyes as cold as steel, and brushes past you without a word.

Okay. You don’t got this.

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

You chase after him. "Look, Seung-Hyun, I know our last talk wasn’t exactly friendly, but I really think—"

He turns the corner, ignoring you.

"Hey!" You jog after him. "Seung-Hyun!" You catch a glimpse of Jae-mi peeking from behind a pillar with a helpless shrug.

"For God’s sake, I’m talking to you!" You grab his sleeve.

"What?!" he snaps, spinning around.

Whoa. Okay. Not expecting that.

"I need to talk to you," you say more softly.

He stares, annoyed. Waiting.

"I need you to tutor me again."

He lets out a low, bitter laugh. "Yeah, right."

You block his path. "Look, I know we’re not exactly best friends right now—"

"Understatement of the century."

"—But we both need something. So let’s make this easy. You keep helping me study, and I keep helping you... y’know. Sexy-sexy time? Deal?"

You flash your most hopeful smile.

He eyes you critically. You hold your ground.

"You really want to know what I think?" he asks.

You nod.

"I think you use people at your convenience."

"Excuse me—"

"You think I was desperate to have you back?"

"I’m not—"

"Face it, Y/N. Your whole life, people bend for you. But that’s not real. And I can’t trust you."

"Wait—what?"

"I can’t trust you, Y/N."

You scoff. "Are you kidding? I’m the most trustworthy person I kn—"

"The deal went both ways," he says, stepping closer. "I helped you with school. You helped me with sex. But I told you from the start—I needed you to meet me halfway. And you didn’t."

"I—"

"You did nothing. And that’s why this is all on you."

He pushes past you, leaving you stunned and speechless. Jae-mi rushes over.

"So...?"

"I’m fucked."

"Fucked metaphorically? Or—"

"Jae-mi."

"...Metaphorically. Got it." She stares down at her shoes.

You groan, kicking the bookshelf in frustration.

And to make it worse? That’s when you remember:

Your English essay is due tomorrow.

And it’s 11 p.m.

On a Wednesday.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you mutter, tearing through your room in search of a pen.

Mr. Kim swore you'd fail the class if this essay didn’t land on his desk by morning.

And that is definitely not on your to-do list.

Your conversation with Choi Seung-Hyun still bubbled in your brain—and boiled your blood. What made it worse was the fact that he’d been right. You hadn’t even tried with the tutoring part of the deal. You’d agreed to help him with schoolwork, but instead, you let the whole thing turn into a crash course in sex education—and you’d completely ignored your end of the bargain otherwise.

Now, it showed.

You scrambled to find a pen and notebook, finally yanking them out from under your bed. Thank God. You threw yourself into your squeaky desk chair, wincing at the sound. You hated that damn thing, but it was better than sitting on your bed and inevitably wrapping yourself in layers of blankets like a burrito, only to fall asleep halfway through whatever you were meant to do.

Jae-mi, the absolute angel she was, had let you borrow her history notes a few days ago while you were "studying." You say "studying" because you’d actually spent that time doodling Santa hats on every historical figure you could find. Abraham Lincoln looked like Santa Claus on a juice cleanse, and it cracked you up.

Focus, Y/N.

What was this essay on again?

Oh, right—World War II.

Why the hell Mr. Kim wanted your essay on history? 

Half an hour passed, and you glanced down at your notebook only to find… not an essay. Nope. What you had was a passionately aggressive letter addressed to Anthony Marwood and Stephanie Callington, the sadistic authors of this torturous textbook. You were now referring to it exclusively as Satan’s Bible.

Okay, it wasn’t too extreme—just an “I hope your children suffer just as much as I have these last thirty minutes” and a casually slipped in “don’t be surprised if your houses get set on fire.” But hey, what could you do?

Twenty more minutes passed, and you were spiraling.

You have to actually have wits for them to end, Y/N.

If only textbooks weren’t so damn boring. Maybe if someone made them into cool TV shows—

"It’s a history website. They make documentaries in the style of American TV shows. The acting's a bit bad and questionable, but it's entertaining nonetheless."

Seung-Hyun's voice echoed in your brain like a mini divine intervention. You practically launched out of your chair and started digging through the laundry-pile disaster that was your floor, searching for your school bag. After throwing pencils and highlighters across the room in a frenzy, you finally found it.

“Bingo,” you whispered, then bolted back to your desk, turning on your computer and typing the website link from his neat handwriting into the browser.

It was a long shot, and it was late. Nearly midnight. Your eyelids were heavy, fingers sluggish as you typed D-Day into the search bar. You rubbed at your eyes and scrolled through until you found a video that looked like it covered the basics for your essay.

Then you hit play.

It was around nine when you woke up the next morning, your essay stuck to your face and your hair a complete disaster—a lopsided topknot that had somehow turned into a bird’s nest. If it hadn’t been for Jae-mi calling to complain about Young-bae stealing her parking spot (again), you wouldn’t have woken up at all.

You sprinted down the school hallways with your essay in hand, trying not to trip over your own feet from lack of sleep. You’d been up until 3 a.m. watching that documentary, and credit where credit's due—Seung-Hyun had been right. It was entertaining. You hadn’t written that much in your life.

Your English class had just emptied out as you ran up to the door.

You were definitely late, but at least you could still turn in the assignment.

“Mr. Kim!” you called, breathless, as you entered the classroom.

He didn’t even glance at you. “I’m not giving extensions on the essay, Y/N. You know the rules—”

“I have the essay!” you held it up triumphantly.

Mr. Kim turned slowly—either out of old age or total shock. “You’ve what?” he blinked.

“I’ve... I’ve done it,” you said, holding it out. He stared at the pages like they might disintegrate in his hands, flipping through them, holding them up to the light like a detective analyzing a forged check.

“These are three double-sided pages,” he muttered in disbelief.

“I know,” you replied. You’d earned every word on that paper.

He rubbed a wrinkled hand down his face and whispered, “Well, I’ll be...”

“Is—Is it okay?” your confidence faltered suddenly. “Did I do it wrong? Is it too much? What if—”

“No, no,” he waved his hand to cut you off. “It’s absolutely fine. I’ll get this marked and back to you by Monday.” He was still staring at your work, stunned.

“Oh... okay.” You chirped, spinning on your heel to head out.

You did it, Y/N. You actually did it.

You were so proud of yourself. The high from that moment carried you through the whole day. You told Jae-mi about your victory during lunch, and she’d looked just as surprised as Mr. Kim—but even more thrilled.

Well, she would have been more thrilled if she hadn’t gotten crushed by Young-bae again in that Physics pop quiz during first period. The look on her face—pure rage, tinged with betrayal—was legendary. You swore her hair was about to twist into little snakes and turn the whole gym to stone.

“This whole ego complex he has is driving me insane,” she muttered during stretches. “If I hear one more word about how he likes to fuck girls standing up because it gives him a ‘better angle,’ I’m shoving a pencil up his ass. That’ll give him a better angle.”

You choked back a laugh.

Honestly, you couldn’t wait for high school to end, mostly so this bizarre, eternal rivalry between Jae-mi and Young-bae could finally burn out. The girl spent so much time plotting his defeat—scribbling vicious little stick figures of him in her notebook, dreaming up creative insults like it was her sport.

Then again, no one got under her skin the way Young-bae did.

After last class, the two of you walked back through the halls, headed toward her locker, when a familiar 6’2" brunette stepped into view.

Seung-Hyun.

You wondered what he’d say if he knew you’d actually handed in your English essay.

He rejected you, remember?

Still... he'd be proud.

What’s the point of him being proud if he doesn’t even like you anymore?

But... he’d be proud.

“Hang on a sec,” you told Jae-mi, jogging ahead.

“Hey!” you chirped as you caught up to him.

Seung-Hyun glanced your way—and rolled his eyes before turning back to his locker.

“Guess what,” you tried again, bouncing slightly. You couldn’t help it. You were excited. You wanted him to be proud of you.

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N,” he grumbled, pulling books out and shoving them into his backpack.

“No, no! You want to hear this!” You waved your arms a bit, hoping he’d look at you.

Nothing.

So you rushed ahead anyway. “I—I handed in my English essay! Three pages. Double-sided!”

He slammed his locker shut, your smile faltering as the sound echoed.

“Cool. Whatever.” He sighed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“But… I did the… I thought that... w-what?” You could barely form a sentence. The wind was knocked straight out of you.

“I’m really not interested, Y/N. See you.”

And with that, he turned and walked away—leaving you there like a complete idiot.

Jae-mi appeared at your side, wincing.

“That was harsh.”

You frowned, eyes glued to your shoes.

You just wanted him to be proud of you.

Before you stood a large, dimly lit room. The walls were raw brick, the floor polished black concrete. Scattered throughout the space were worn pieces of gym equipment: treadmills, bench presses, pull-up bars, elliptical trainers, rowing machines. Yoga mats were laid out across the floor, surrounded by tires, skipping ropes, and stacks of barbells.

A makeshift gym.

What the hell was Choi Seung-Hyun doing at a gym?

You knew about dance practices, singing lessons, even rap sessions, but gym?

The place wasn’t exactly crowded, but it wasn't empty either. There was a secretive air to it—as though only a certain few were in on it—and those who were treated it like any other gym. You realized instantly how out of place you looked in your heels and miniskirt, surrounded by people dripping in sweat and dressed in proper gym gear.

How the tables had turned. Now you were the outcast.

You walked in slowly, your arms wrapped around your books, eyes scanning the unfamiliar space. You flinched when a tall, broad man approached. He had a friendly, welcoming smile—and a burn scar tracing the side of his neck.

“Are you okay there?” he asked, his tone soft.

“I… erm… I’m looking for someone,” you said, trying not to sound awkward. You could practically hear your inner voice cringing.

“That’s okay,” he replied with a charming smile, folding his arms over his chest. “Who are you looking for?”

A flash of Seung-Hyun filled your mind. You blinked and looked at the man again—now picturing him in full military uniform.

“You’re Seung-Hyun’s dad,” you blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by how quickly you'd identified him, before his expression softened.

“Erm, yes. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he repeated, clearly thinking. Then recognition sparked in his eyes. “You’re the girl he’s been tutoring.”

“That’s me.” You smiled. So Seung-Hyun never told his dad he wasn’t tutoring you anymore?

Interesting.

“My wife’s mentioned you before,” the man continued. “She said you were a lovely girl.”

You found that strange. You’d only met Seung-Hyun’s mother once—or twice if you counted the jewelry store. Yet apparently, she had nice things to say. “You must be looking for Seung-Hyun,” he said, gesturing to the books in your arms.

You nodded quickly, and he smiled warmly.

“Come on, I think he’s down this way.”

You followed him across the gym, eyeing the equipment as you walked. Was this his dad’s place? You remembered hearing he’d left the military—it seemed likely.

“I’m Min-sang, by the way,” he added, offering his hand. You shook it.

“The owner of the gym,” he said with a grin.

Mystery solved.

At the back of the warehouse stood a boxing ring. Inside, a guy with dark brown skin was throwing powerful punches at training pads held by another man. Sweat slicked his sculpted chest as he ducked and weaved, nimble on his feet.

“Hey, Se-hoon!” Min-sang called out.

The guy stopped and looked over, eyes flicking briefly to you before refocusing on Min-sang.

“Any idea where my Se-hoon is?”

See-hoon removed his gloves and vaulted out of the ring in one smooth motion.

“No clue. He’ll probably be out soon.” He slung a towel over his shoulders, then turned his attention to you. “Who’s this?” he asked, eyes raking over you with a teasing glint.

“Y/N,” Min-sang answered. “The girl Seung-Hyun’s tutoring.”

Se-hoon smirked knowingly. “Y/N,” he said, his voice full of implication. “I know all about you.”

Heat rose to your cheeks.

“If you wait here, he’ll be out in a few minutes,” Min-sang added.

“Out from what?” you asked, still unsure what was going on.

Se-hoon sat beside you on the bench. “You’ll see,” he said with a grin.

You huffed and sat down, clinging to your books. You crossed your legs and rested your chin on your fist, bored out of your mind. Where the hell was Seung-Hyun?

Jae-mi was still waiting in the car—probably indulging in her latest obsession with all things BDSM. She likely didn’t want to be disturbed anytime soon.

Then you saw him.

A figure walked to the bench press, landing beside Min-sang. His back was to you, muscles flexing with every movement. Blue gym shorts clung to his thighs, and his brunette hair sparked instant recognition.

When he turned, your jaw nearly dropped to the center of the earth.

Choi Seung-Hyun.

And he had a goddamn six-pack.

“Don’t drool, sweetheart. Where are your manners?” Se-hoon teased.

You turned to him, eyes wide. He leaned back against the wall, sipping from a fancy sports bottle like this was no big deal.

Seung-Hyun didn’t notice you. He cracked his neck, and layed down on the bench. Min-sang stood behind him to spot. 

You couldn't tear your eyes away.

Your gaze roamed over every inch of him: every muscle, every ripple, every bead of sweat rolling down his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “He’s got this.”

And he did. Every bench—he was in complete control. You’d never seen him like this. Gone was the shy, socially awkward boy. In his place stood a man full of confidence and primal strength. His biceps tensed with each bench, veins pulsing under flushed skin. 

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

You stood slowly as Seung-Hyun got up from the bench. His chest heaved with exertion, his entire body glowing with sweat. He ran a hand through his damp hair. Your mouth went dry.

When he finally noticed you, he stopped cold.

His chest rose once.

Twice.

A third time.

“…Y/N?”

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the fact you were actively trying not to melt on the spot.

“What… what are you doing here?” he asked, grabbing a towel from the bench and wiping his face.

“I needed to talk to you.”

He blinked, thrown off by your unexpected appearance. Then his eyes drifted down your body—your heels, bare thighs, miniskirt. The flicker in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Now?” he asked, a bit breathless.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice firmer.

He nodded, trying to regain his composure. “Okay… locker room’s this way.”

You followed him down a narrow hallway. The air was cooler back here, but you felt no relief—your skin was already burning. You passed a couple of closed doors before he pushed one open and motioned you inside.

It smelled of sweat and soap. Two rows of lockers lined the room, and a bench ran down the middle. A shower steamed in the corner, still running from someone who’d just left.

Seung-Hyun grabbed a clean towel and draped it over his shoulders, still shirtless, still gleaming. He turned to you, arms crossed.

“So… what did you want to talk about?”

You set your books down on the bench. “We need to clear some things up.”

“Okay…” he said slowly. “About what?”

You walked up to him. “About us.”

His brow furrowed. “There is no ‘us.’”

“Not yet,” you replied.

He blinked.

You didn’t give him time to respond. You reached out, fingertips grazing his chest. He stiffened but didn’t stop you.

“Y/N…” he warned.

You looked up into his eyes. “I saw the way you looked at me just now.”

He swallowed hard.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“That’s because I usually have clothes on,” he said dryly.

You smirked. “You should take them off more often.”

“Y/N…” His voice dropped. “Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not playing.”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

“No,” you said, stepping closer, “I’m thinking very clearly.”

You reached for the waistband of his shorts, fingers brushing the skin just above them.

He grabbed your wrist. “Don’t.”

You met his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop.”

You tilted your head. “Good.”

He stared at you like you’d just punched him.

Then he kissed you.

Hard.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body as his mouth claimed yours. There was no hesitation, no gentleness—only hunger. He backed you into the lockers, lifting you slightly until your feet left the ground.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the cool metal, his lips moving down your neck, nipping at your collarbone.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled against your skin.

You tugged at his hair. “Don’t you dare.”

He kissed you again—hot, desperate, consuming—while your hands explored every inch of his back, every line of muscle.

Your hand slips to his waistband, fingers brushing the heat beneath as he helps you strip him down. His cock springs free—hard, heavy, and flushed—and your mouth waters at the sight of it. You wrap your hand around the base, stroking slowly, deliberately, watching his jaw clench as he leans back against the lockers for support.

Then you sink to your knees.

The tile is cold, but you hardly notice. You start with a kiss—just a soft press to the head, tasting the salty bead of precum there. He groans low in his throat, and you feel his fingers thread through your hair. Encouragement. Control. Both.

You take him deeper, inch by inch, letting your lips stretch and your throat relax around him. His breath stutters as you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head in rhythm. Each glide down brings a new curse from his lips. Each flick of your tongue along the underside has him twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand gripping the edge of the locker behind him, the other tightening in your hair. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

You hum in response—deliberate—and the vibration makes him jerk against your tongue. But you don’t stop. You suck harder, deeper, your pace unrelenting until you feel him throb fully in your mouth. That’s when you pull back, slowly, lips slick, a thin strand of saliva still connecting you to him.

He looks wrecked. Eyes dark, chest rising in ragged breaths, cock still rigid and glistening from your mouth.

Then it’s his turn.

He pulls you to your feet and back to the bench, his hands firm on your hips as he lays you down again. You feel the cool press of the wood under your back, the air sharp against your flushed skin as he peels your underwear away. His fingers spread you open, slow and reverent, and the first touch of his tongue is light—almost teasing.

You whimper.

He flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, then circles there, soft at first. Then firmer. Deeper. Your thighs twitch around his head, but he holds you steady, arms locked around your thighs to keep you open for him. Every motion is focused, deliberate—like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way your body arches at just the right angle when he suckles your clit hard.

Your hands find his hair, fingers digging in, hips lifting to chase every wave of pleasure as he devours you like he’s starving.

And when two fingers slide inside you—curling just right—you know you're not going to last long.

Your back arches off the bench as his fingers move inside you—slow at first, then curling, pressing just right against that spot that makes your whole body clench. His tongue never lets up on your clit, flicking in firm, deliberate strokes that sync with the rhythm of his hand.

Every nerve in your body feels like it’s lit from within.

“Seung-Hyun,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core. You buck against his mouth, helpless to the pace he sets. One of your hands clutches the bench for something—anything—to ground you, while the other stays tangled in his hair, tugging without realizing it.

You can feel it—tight, building, inevitable. That climax, thick and molten, coils deep in your belly, and the way he’s fucking you with his fingers while sucking your clit with that unrelenting pressure pushes you to the edge. Closer. Closer.

Your thighs try to close around his head as the tension snaps.

You come with a sharp cry, back bowing, thighs trembling, hips jerking up into his face. He doesn’t stop—not until you’re whimpering from the aftershocks, from the way your body shudders beneath his tongue.

Only then does he slow down, lips soft now, trailing kisses across your inner thighs as you come down from it all—panting, ruined, bliss-drunk.

He rises between your legs again, mouth slick with your arousal, and leans over you. His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, but there's the faintest, teasing smirk on his face.

“Taste yourself,” he murmurs, and kisses you deep—wet, filthy, perfect.

Taglist: @petersasteria @redhoodedtoad @mirahyun @sherrayyyyy @sherxoo @dilfismz @breakmeoff @janie-osuih @forevervibezzzz1 @kuinnoa @juliskopf @maskedcrawford @szonyix6277@ldydeath

Series taglist: @1950schick @zaaraaax0 @tabibabib @sofiaaaah @pepsicolapussi

[takeyrregrets]

I loved the platonic one, is there anyway you could do something similar but instead of foster dad it’s a police officer that’s always there for the delinquent kid because he’s noticed things that hint at his bad home life and eventually takes him in after being sent to the teens house for a domestic call? Only if your comfortable!

'𝗕𝗮𝗱' 𝗞𝗶𝗱 𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗿 & 𝗗𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 I love writing platonic stuff...does that say something abt my family life? Most likely

He always seemed to be around, didn’t he?

Every time the cuffs went on—whether it was for something you did or something they just assumed you did—he was there. Calm. Steady. Different. Not like the others who looked at you like a lost cause, like trash that needed to be cleaned off the streets. No, he looked at you like he saw something more. Like he was trying to see something more.

He never said much. But he always asked the right questions.

“Did you eat today?” “Where’s that bruise from?” “You sure you’re okay walking home alone?”

You hated how your voice always cracked when you answered. How your hands itched with shame when you lied. How you wanted to tell him everything, even when you didn’t have the words for it. You didn’t ask for him to care. You didn’t need him to.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But then the call came in.

He didn’t even know it was your address until dispatch said your name over the radio. Something in him just snapped. He was the first one through the door, before backup even had their boots on. And he saw it—the broken lamp, the overturned table, the way you flinched when someone raised their voice.

He saw you, curled up small in the corner, hands shaking and eyes wide, like you were bracing for another hit that hadn’t come yet.

And he broke. Not loudly. Not violently. But something inside him cracked, permanent and quiet. A decision. A promise.

That night, you didn't go back home.

Not to the blood-stained carpet or the smell of beer on breath. Not to the shouting and the doors slammed too hard. No, that night, you sat in the passenger seat of his cruiser, a borrowed hoodie draped over your shoulders. His.

“You’re not going back there,” he said. Firm. Like a vow. “Not again.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stared out the window, waiting for the catch. Waiting for him to change his mind. But he didn’t.

He brought you to a small apartment—modest, but warm. He made you tea, handed you a blanket, and didn’t ask you to explain a single thing. You slept on his couch that night, eyes still red, mind still racing.

And when you woke up the next morning, he was there. Making breakfast.

“You like eggs?” he asked, like this was normal. Like this was just life now.

You didn’t know what to say. You just stared, before he smiled and turned his head back towards the pan. As if he read your mind. And when he placed the plate down in front of you, two yellow yolk stared right at you.

[sugardollcurse]

any headcanons about in what ways the boys would be protective of a reader who's in the band too, that they just happen to fancy? feel like you've gotta be made of pretty strong stuff to deal with all the beatlemania & press & the like

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅

꒰ pairing ꒱ paul mccartney x reader, john lennon x reader, george harrison x reader, ringo starr x reader

꒰ note ꒱ YES I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. i love stuff with the reader being in the band zbsdhfaf enjoy

꒰ JOHN ꒱

“You alright, then? D’you need me to fight someone? I will, y’know.”

John is a strange mix of bold and subtle when it comes to protecting you.

He acts like nothing bothers him, like he couldn’t care less what people are saying or writing, but when it’s you in the press line of fire, suddenly he’s seeing red.

“Buncha bastards,” he growls under his breath when someone asks you a slimy question at a press conference.

He’ll cut in with sarcasm, derail the interview, and leave a mess for Brian to clean up. Worth it.

He’ll shoulder the crowd a bit more aggressively when you're walking together, keeping you close without ever calling attention to it.

If you look tired or cornered or even slightly overwhelmed, he notices. Always.

And after a long day, he’ll knock on your door with some excuse like, “Left my lighter,” but it’s really just to see you, to check you’re still in one piece.

꒰ PAUL ꒱

“I just think… if it were me, I’d want someone to notice. So I do.”

Paul is the most emotionally attuned to your wellbeing.

He clocks the tremble in your voice, the blank look after a rough show, the way your hands clench backstage.

He uses that natural charm of his to deflect heat off you when things get intense.

If a reporter gets too personal, he’ll swoop in with a joke or change the subject like a pro.

He’s always near you in group settings, subtle, but consistent.

You’re in his eyeline constantly.

“Have you eaten today?” is something he asks way too often for someone who’s supposedly not your boyfriend.

He’s also the first to call after you’ve had a hard interview or a rough night on tour.

“Want me to come over? I’ve got wine. And biscuits. And an ego the size of... what? Come on, how can you say no?”

He doesn’t want to overstep, but you can feel his protectiveness in every little thing he does.

꒰ GEORGE ꒱

“Just let me be near, alright? Don’t need to talk if you don’t want to.”

George notices when you're drained.

He doesn't ask, he sees it.

If you’re being pushed to play nice or smile when you clearly don’t want to, he leans over and mutters something snide in your ear.

“Tell ‘em to piss off. You’re allowed.”

He knows how fake the business is and hates seeing you have to perform outside the music.

During soundcheck, if someone critiques your part too harshly, he defends you subtly: “No, I like how they played it. Felt right to me.”

It sounds offhand, but it’s firm.

George isn’t loud, but he’s persistent.

And when the press asks personal questions that make you freeze, George quietly steps in: “That’s none of your business, is it?”

He has not told you how he feels.

He barely admits it to himself.

But if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, his whole body tenses.

And he stands closer to you than he does to anyone else.

꒰ RINGO ꒱

“Tell me if you need out. We can say you’ve got food poisoning or somethin’...no one’s gonna argue with that.”

Ringo is accidentally protective in the way that only someone deeply gone for you can be.

He’s not confrontational, but he is loyal, and nothing gets past him.

He hovers, sweetly, awkwardly, always near. Carries your coat.

Pulls you out of a crush of reporters without even thinking.

Lingers when he knows you don’t want to be left alone.

He’ll deflect questions you don’t want to answer with a joke or a silly face.

Total clownery.

But you know he’s doing it for you!

When you’ve had a hard day, he shows up to your hotel room with crisps and your favorite drink.

“Thought maybe we could hide in here a bit. Just us.”

He doesn’t make a fuss.

But you catch him glaring at a bodyguard who got too handsy, or stepping closer when the press gets too loud.

If he thinks you’re being undervalued or manipulated, he’ll not let it go.

Goes to Brian privately, brings it up to the others, keeps advocating for you in ways you don’t even hear about.

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow X Fem reader

Your past , My present, Our future Part 2 (Final)

(Part 1)

Description: after meeting your future child your mind is reeling, little do you know that there is another one watching from the shadows, and she isn’t alone.

Warnings: none cute Dadow fluff ahead

Note: so I know this story is going to leave a lot of questions to be answered don’t worry they will be in due time however I don’t mind answering them now so let me know, I will be posting the epilogue later this week hopefully which may or may not clear some things up.

The ebony hedgehog stood atop the tower her amber eyes scanning the area below.

She watched as her father spoke to her namesake below. something twisted in her heart, a feeling she couldn't quite place, not pain but not quite pride either. she watched as she spoke holding a surprising level of dignity and grace for her age. no wonder her father spoke so highly about her.

"OH MY GOSH!" a voice that unmistakably belonged to her mother called out distracting her from her thoughts.

a soft giggle escaped her lips even displaced in time she still found a way to bring her back to earth. "Thanks mom" she whispered.

"Maria! I need your help." a familiar voice behind her spoke making her jump.

"Gah! Silver what the hell, warn me! I could have attacked you just now!"

"Sorry, I'm just busy right now trying to keep time anomalies from happening"

"Yah I can see that." her eyes darting to her little now littler sister in Silver's hands,

"Hey! You look just like my sister RiRi" Nova said her voice full of excitement.

Maria smiled at the nickname her sister lovingly gave her, only she was allowed to call her that. "Yah, I get that a lot."

Her gaze returned to Silver "So How does it feel to be the older twin now?" She teased

"Please don't make this weird." Silver groaned

"I'm sorry, make this weird? Silver, You're holding your twin sister at age four in a timeless white void well before either of our conception. meanwhile you live in the past part-time, are on a first name basis with both our parent's, and you're dating a cat from another dimension, name one normal thing about any of this?"

"Hey! me and Blaze are just friends."

"That's not what she said." Maria pointed to Nova who was growing antsier by the second.

"What does she know anyway?"

"It's literally her jo-"

"Hey! Put me down!" Nova demanded waving her arms and kicking at the ivory hedgehog.

"Sorry Nova." Silver put her down on the floor between them.

"Now, what's this about you needing my help?"

"I need you to watch her for me, just until Sonic defeats the time eater and then we'll all go home."

"babysitting, really? How come you get all the cool missions?"

"Because, I'm not recognizable in the past , and you are."

"Yah, and how much longer do you have that excuse?"

"That doesn't matter right now. neither of you can be seen, unless you want to throw off the timeline"

Maria sighed her arguments once again being defeated. "What do you need to do anyway? get your butt kicked by Dad again?"

"No, by Sonic this time."

"Fine" she huffed "But you're doing my dishes for a week."

"What! seriously the future hangs in the balance right now and you're trying to wager chores."

"Hey, some people would ask for more, I personally think it's a generous offer."

"Maria stop pulling your brother’s leg, I'll watch her" the familiar voice of their father interrupted their spat.

"Papa!" Nova cried out excitedly running into his arms.

Shadow laughed as he picked the little hedgehog up and spun her around "Hello little one you've had quite the adveture today haven't you?"

the little girl beamed "just like you papa?"

"you could say that."

"can I come with you to work now!"

He smiled at her "I'll talk about it with your mother.” Shadow turned to his two other children “are you two alright?”

“Yah, I’ve been hiding here mostly, just watching” Maria responded

“I’m okay mostly busy trying to keep the timeline safe”

“Good, keep it up do you need any help”

“I’ve got it mostly covered so far you are the only ones from the future that could threaten the timeline well you guys and mom but she should be with past you right now”

“She’s not she went behind that wall over there after you left.” Maria corrected

Shadow nodded “Okay I’ll go check on her”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea with her? Nova's not exactly one for keeping secrets, especially as a child.”

"That's true I caught her just before she spilled the beans about Maria"

"Hey I didn't spill anything!"

"No, Nova it's an expression" Silver sounded exasperated.

"A what?"

Silver sighed "Never mind"

"She'll be fine, with all the running around she's been doing I'm sure she's due for a nap"

"But I'm not tired"

"Oh, you're not?" Shadow replied.

"Nope" the little hedgehog yawned betraying her own words

"Okay, well then sit still while I talk to these two okay little one."

She nodded in agreement laying her head on her father's chest

"Papa?"

"Yes dear?"

"How come mama's quills aren't white?"

The air grew thick as the three looked at each other unsure of what to say. at her age it was never explained, she couldn't have possibly understood. what those scientists did to you, and why. No, that was a story for another day.

It was so long before her birth she hadn't known her mother any other way. even for Silver it was strange to see you before it happened despite that being his only safety for not being discovered yet.

"She's trying something new today, don't you like it?" Shadow finally answered.

"I think mama looks pretty"

"Yah, she always looks pretty."

Nova smiled at him before closing her eyes beginning to nod off.

"Silver keep doing whatever you need to do to keep the timeline in check okay?”

“Yes sir”

“Do you need a boost? Before you go?” Maria asked.

“I should be okay for now maybe after I fight Sonic”

“Okay, you know where I am” Maria gave her brother a hug

“Stay safe son” Shadow hugged Silver making sure not to disturb the little one who was being to lightly snore

“Thanks Dad” and with that silver took off heading off into the void.

Maria and Shadow were silent for a moment watching as Silver disappeared from sight.

“Hey Dad.”

“Yah”

“Just how far in the future are you from?” Maria couldn’t help glancing at the young girl from the past.

“Far enough to know what you want to ask.” Shadow placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder “You’ll find your own way I promise.”

“Well that’s awfully cryptic.”

“You know how important the timeline is, knowing what happens could put your future at risk”

“I know, it’s just, why can’t I fight yet? I know everything there is to know, and there’s so much good I want to do why won’t you let me? I mean silver is out there fighting with you and he’s four years younger than me why can’t I?

“I’m sorry Maria but that conversation can only happen when you’re ready, and I’m afraid you’re not there yet.”

“When will I be then?”

“Soon, I promise.”

She huffed unsatisfied with the answer but understanding that she couldn’t pry for more. “You probably have to go check on mom now don’t you?”

“She can wait a few more minutes if you need.”

“Nah she seemed pretty freaked, it was kinda funny not gonna lie”

Shadow smiled at his young daughter admiring how much she was like you.

“Alright stay hidden and please, try not to create any explosions”

“Dad, please, look who you’re talking to”

Shadow sighed “just keep the damage to a minimum”

“You got it” Maria smiled before giving her dad a hug. “Love you”

“You too kiddo”

And just as quickly as he appeared her father vanished into the white void taking her sister with him. Maria returned to her place watching the action happening once again.

“Oh man, Pepper is never going to believe this”

❤️

You leaned against the wall your mind going a million miles a second with no stop in sight.

You were beginning to feel nauseous at the concoction of emotions swirling through you.

You were mortified at the scene that just took place scolding yourself for running into a situation before properly assessing it, at the same time you were still coming down from the sadness of your boyfriend not knowing your identity, not to mention the child you were apparently going to have showing up.

You had nothing against children, in fact you wanted children of your own someday, but you and Shadow hadn't even talked about it yet. the panic of her arrival had come with the side affect of an overwhelming wave of affection. after all your future with Shadow had all been conformed.

You loved him and wanted this future with him, but it was all happening so fast you couldn't catch your breath, literally you were beginning to hyperventilate.

You needed to calm down so you closed your eyes sat down and focused on your breathing unaware that you were being watched

❤️

As Shadow approached you he couldn’t help but think about the early stages of your relationship. He remembered the way you looked at him, the ways you broke down his walls like no one else could, the ways you would comfort him as he woke from a nightmare.

He looked at you and felt a comfort in knowing not much had changed in all these years however, he was reminded just how much other things changed as well.

Right now you were untouched, not knowing what the future would bring, you looked younger, of course you did this was before.

Four years and three months before to be exact.

If perfection could be achieved it no doubt would look like you. Seeing you like this once again made him smile. still, guilt lingered in the back of his mind.

Images of the past flashed through his mind. The worst year of his life, six months of searching only to find you too late, and six more months trying to undo the damage. Your quills were supposed to turn white with age now they would never change at all.

You claimed you didn’t mind that the outcome was a “best case scenario”. Still he knew that you had something taken from you. Something that he had wanted for you, something he knew you could never get back not for a long time at least.

You were still perfect of course, just in a different way. Despite the challenges you pulled through healing in ways he never thought possible. You moved past it, you remained in love with him and gave him children he owed you the world and more.

Little Nova cooed in his arms yet another reminder of why you were just so remarkabl

Shadow stood next to you as you sat on the floor working through your breathing technique, not wanting to startle you he spoke gently.

“Hey”

You looked up at the familiar voice it was defiantly Shadow, but he seemed more familiar with you. he hadn't aged, of course he didn't but he had an air about him that seemed more mature like he's learned more from the word than the last you saw him, and on top of that he was holding the little hoglet Silver had whisked away moments ago.

"umm hey, so sorry but I'm really confused right now a lot is happening and I'm not entirely sure what."

"It's okay Y/N I understand"

"Okay so before I start I just want to make sure, You know me right?"

Shadow smiled at you "Yes my love"

You heaved a sigh of relief "Okay good, so first off how are you dear"

"I'm doing fine, I'm here to check on you"

"Okay good, Second wow I'm just- I don't really know what to say right now. It's just a lot. I mean we have a kid? That's - wow."

"Are you disappointed?"

"What? Of course not! it's just, I don't know, Kids have always been this possibility to me, you know, they're just hypothetical things. I mean we haven't really talked about it, I don't know you're opinions on them are so there was a chance I wouldn't have them, but now, it's real and obviously you know we have one.”

“I was little worried at first, having something so small, but I also knew I wanted a family especially one with you.”

“Am I any good at it, the whole parenting thing?”

“You’re the best at it”

The tension you in your shoulder released as you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked up at Shadow a warm feeling spread through your heart seeing how he gently held your sleeping child in his arms.

“Should we be talking while she’s asleep”

“Oh, She’s fine she sleeps through anything. One time you were making dinner during her nap and all the pots and pans crashed out of the cabinets she didn’t even move”

“Oh that’s good”

“Yah, she’ll give you a run for your money when she’s awake though”

You giggled “you know, that’s a good look on you, you look happy.”

“I am” the two of you smiled at one another “do you want to hold her?”

“Is that allowed? I mean would that mess up the timeline at all? I don’t want Silver to be mad or anything.”

Shadow held back a snicker, you had no idea “don’t worry about Silver trust me, he won’t bother you”

“Oh, okay then.”

Shadow gently placed the little girl in your arms your heart swelling as she curled up against your chest a she called out a tiny “mama?” Instinctively you rubbed her back lulling her back to sleep surprising yourself in the process.

Getting a closer look at her you wondered how you didn’t immediately clock her as yours the two of you shared many features but the ones you found your favorite were the ones Shadow gave her. Her grey markings, the way her quills curled up she even snored like him.

“She’s so cute, how do I function?”

“Trust me you take a lot of pictures.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Shadow sat down next to you. As you turned to smile at him he noticed, after all these years you still smiled at him the same way you. All the trauma all the changes those people forced you through they couldn’t change the simple fact that you loved him, no matter what happened or how much time had passed you would always love him.

The two of you talked behind the wall passing the time as you waited for the action to be over.

“Shouldn’t you be helping yourself with your dad?” You asked at one point

“Trust me, this is much more important”

After a couple hours you noticed something, Nova’s foot was slowly becoming transparent panic flooded through you as you tried to stop it realizing you were beginning to disappear too.

“Don’t worry, this is just how you go home you’ll be okay I promise.”

“Okay and how about her?”

“She’ll wake up in the same place she disappeared she’ll be safe”

You nodded “any advice for the future?”

He took your face in his hands taking memorizing your features one last time. “ Just remember that I’ll always love you no matter what”

“I love you too”

Shadow leaned in and kissed you this wasn’t his last kiss with you, not by a mile but it still felt like a goodbye. You were taken so suddenly and by the time he saw you again the damage had been done. He knew he couldn’t warn you about it, but he could use this kiss as an apology, as reassurance that everything would turn out okay.

As you faded from his view he smiled, knowing that despite what happened the two of you had a bright future ahead.

❤️

You woke up in a lush green field your picnic basket neatly laid next to you, the path ahead clear. Checking the time on your phone you noticed that no time had passed since you entered the void, even so you were still late for your picnic date.

Grabbing your basket you rushed off to your usual meeting place knowing you had one hell of an excuse.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“That’s alright, I’m still setting up.”

“The blanket? Love, all you have to do is lay it on the floor.”

“I know I was just making sure I had a good vantage point in case anything comes to attack us.”

“Aw love, I appreciate your vigilance but I sincerely doubt someone is going to attack us in a wide open field in the middle of the day.”

“You never know when someone is going to strike I just want to be prepared.”

You kissed him between his ears handing him his sandwich “never change darling”

You sat beside him taking your lunch out as well.

“So Nova’s pretty cute isn’t she”

Shadow froze looking at you in shock.

“When did you-”

“Just now. So you knew this whole time?!”

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please, like you would have believed me.”

“I might have”

Shadow gave you one of his looks that showed complete doubt.

“Oh you” you jumped on him pushing him to the ground your lips colliding as Shadow wrapped his hand around your waist. You giggled against his lips continuing as the two of you parted continuing your picnic on the beautiful spring afternoon steps away from your first meeting.

❤️

Three years prior

Shadow sat beneath the tree watching the festivities below. He had no idea why he let Rouge convince him to come. They were all the same full of people making pointless small talk about nothing.

Sure there were people he tolerated but they were always busy talking to the ones he couldn’t stand.

Shadow skulked checking the time waiting for the hour mark when Rouge said it was an acceptable time to leave. Only five minutes left and they couldn’t come soon enough.

“Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here?” A sweet voice called out.

Looking up he saw a familiar figure, he tried looking for you after the time eater incident to no avail, years passed and he didn’t have the time to search, the world needed saving and he was the only competent enough to do it properly.

“I suppose” he responded

“Thank you, don’t get me wrong I love parties but they get way too loud.”

Shadow scoffed “Yah that’s Sonic for you, always has to throw the biggest parties.”

You giggled “Yah, he’s sweet and all but he definitely needs to come with a warning sign.”

Shadow found himself laughing at your comment.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“I just moved here Amy invited me, quite a colorful cast of characters around here.”

“Yah, almost too colorful”

You giggled at his comment bringing a warmth to his face he was unfamiliar with.

“I’m Y/N, and you are?”

“Shadow, Shadow the Hedgehog.”

“Nice to meet you Shadow”

[kahlaniolo]

PSYCHIATRIC PATIENT!CHRIS 002 ( 𝒊 )

SUMMARY reader returns for another tense check-in with christopher, noticing small cracks in his cold exterior. though he remains distant and bitter, he speaks a little more, and reader begins to pick up on subtle signs of his deeper struggles. a conversation with a co-worker reveals that most aides haven’t lasted long with him — but reader is determined to stay.

FEATURING psychiatric patient!chris x aide!reader

WORD COUNT roughly 1.5k.

CONTAINS mentions of mental health struggles, psychiatric hospital setting, patient aggression (verbal), mentions of past violence, tension, slow burn.

the next day felt heavier before it even began. you stood outside room 214 again, hand hovering near the door like you had to convince yourself to go in. you didn’t knock this time — dr. anderson had told you consistency was key with patients like christopher. same routine, same tone, same calm. so you pushed the door open quietly, stepping inside like it was any other day.

he was in the same spot as before. slouched in that chair by the window, eyes fixed somewhere far away. the only thing that changed was the untouched tray of food sitting on the table. breakfast. cold now.

you made a mental note. second day of no food.

“good morning, christopher.” your voice was calm, even though the tension in the room wrapped around your chest tight. he didn’t respond — didn’t even flinch. but you kept going, because that’s what you were trained to do.

you crossed the room, setting down a fresh cup of water next to the untouched tray. your eyes flickered to his hands — fists clenched on the armrests of the chair like he was ready for a fight that hadn’t started yet.

“i see you didn’t eat,” you said softly, keeping your distance. you weren’t here to force anything, but you needed to note it out loud. “if you’re not hungry, that’s okay. but i’ll make sure the kitchen sends up something different next time.”

still nothing.

you stood there for a beat longer, waiting, but his gaze never shifted. you turned toward the table again, picking up the papers you brought. daily logs, basic checklists. things that felt stupidly small in moments like this.

“i’ll be here for the next hour,” you added, keeping your tone neutral. “just to check in. no pressure.”

it was only then, after a long stretch of silence, that he spoke — voice low and rough like it hadn’t been used in days. “why do you keep showing up?”

you blinked, surprised by the question. not because it was rude — you expected that — but because it was more honest than yesterday. less venom, more exhaustion.

“it’s my job,” you answered plainly. “i was assigned to you.”

chris let out a sharp breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. bitter. “assigned. right.” he shifted in his chair finally, turning his head just enough to glance at you. “so you’re getting paid to babysit me.”

you met his eyes, steady. “i’m here to help you. whether that looks like babysitting to you or not.”

he rolled his eyes and looked away, muttering under his breath. you couldn’t catch all of it, but you heard something like “waste of time.”

still, you didn’t react. that was progress in its own, even if he didn’t want to admit it. yesterday, he wouldn’t even look at you. today, he questioned you. it was small, but it was movement.

you glanced down at the untouched food again. “if you change your mind about eating, let me know. i’ll get you something else.”

he didn’t answer.

so you sat, same chair as yesterday, keeping your presence known but not overbearing. you noticed the way his shoulders tensed whenever footsteps echoed down the hall, how his eyes flicked toward the door every time someone passed. little signs of a man who was always on edge, even when he looked cold and distant.

you didn’t mention it. not yet.

instead, you let the minutes stretch long, letting the silence settle between you two again. this wasn’t about filling space with words — it was about showing up. about proving, day by day, that you weren’t going to disappear like everyone else.

when your hour finally ticked by, you stood up slowly. “i’ll check in again this afternoon.” your voice stayed soft, professional. “same time.”

chris didn’t say anything, but this time, as you stepped toward the door, you felt his gaze follow you for a second longer than yesterday. a flicker. brief, but there.

you didn’t look back, didn’t push it. you just let the door click softly behind you.

outside the room, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. the hallway felt cooler, quieter, but your chest was still tight. you made your way back toward the front desk where maya, one of the senior aides, was flipping through charts.

she glanced up when she saw you. “how’d it go?”

you gave her a look that said don’t ask, but you answered anyway. “he spoke today. barely. but it’s something.”

maya raised a brow. “spoke?” she set the chart down. “that’s more than he’s done for most of us in weeks. he usually just stares past people until they give up.”

you leaned against the counter, voice dropping lower. “what’s his story? nobody’s told me much. just that he’s… difficult.”

maya exhaled, like the question weighed more than you knew. “christopher’s been in and out of places like this since he was fifteen. violent outbursts, isolation, trust issues — the whole file reads like a cautionary tale.” she paused, eyes flickering toward the hallway. “most aides don’t last more than a few days with him. he’s… rough.”

your chest tightened again, but not from fear. from something else. something closer to anger — not at him, but at the way everyone seemed to have already given up.

“well,” you muttered, straightening up, “i’m not most aides.”

maya gave you a long look, then nodded once. “we’ll see.”

by the afternoon, you were back at room 214. second check-in of the day, same routine. you knocked this time, even though you knew he wouldn’t answer.

when you stepped inside, chris was on the bed now, laying flat with one arm over his eyes. the tray from earlier was gone — someone must’ve picked it up — but the room still felt heavy with silence.

“afternoon check-in,” you said softly, announcing yourself like always. you stayed near the door for a beat before moving closer. “how are you feeling?”

he let out a dry laugh from under his arm. “same as this morning. miserable.”

your lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close. progress. “noted.”

you set down another cup of water, watching the way he peeked at you from under his arm, like he couldn’t help it. you noticed the dark circles under his eyes this time. noticed the way his jaw clenched every time the building creaked.

“still not hungry?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

he dropped his arm and turned his head to glare at the ceiling. “food here tastes like shit.”

you shrugged. “i can put in a request. might not be much better, but it’s worth a shot.”

he didn’t answer, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.

you took that as a win.

for the next half hour, you sat again — same chair, same spot. just existing in the space without pushing him. you could feel his eyes flick toward you every now and then, like he was waiting for you to crack first. to get frustrated.

but you didn’t. you stayed calm, stayed steady.

and by the time your shift ticked toward the end, you stood up again and said the same thing as before. “i’ll be back tomorrow.”

this time, chris didn’t scoff. didn’t laugh bitterly. he just watched you leave, face blank but eyes a little less sharp.

the door clicked shut behind you, and you let yourself exhale again.

small steps. but steps, all the same.

@kahlaniolo | all rights reserved :)

[ambiguouslady42]

High Tea featuring Choso

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Fem! Reader WC: 1.4K CW: All the fluff Description: Choso surprises you with a reservation at the Tea Room at the Botanical Gardens!

Note: BB, I hope you like this! Let me know how you felt with Cho! <3

Tags: @pixelcafe-network, @dreamingkitsunewrites

Choso kept bouncing his knee up and down in the apartment, waiting for you to come home. He wanted to surprise you with something you and he haven't done. It was different from visiting pubs, listening to bands that were up and coming, bantering back and forth with each other, laughing, and sharing the softest kisses in between. However hard his exterior, Choso deep down was soft, and he adored the floor you walked on.

You walked into your flat, exhausted from the day you had at work. You crash onto the couch and exhale loudly. You cover your eyes with your arm, just waiting for the outcomes of the day to wash away and joyful to be here with the one you love. You move your arm, looking over at you nervously. Choso didn't know if this was a good time to bring up the surprise. He doesn't want to burden you, but he also wants to know if you'll like or hate the surprise.

You relax and take his hand into yours. The way that your fingers interlace with his helps his racing heart slow down and grants him the courage to tell you what he has planned. "I…have a surprise. I know it'll be different from our usual outings…but you deserve beauty and beautiful things…" He stutters as he's trying to just tell you where you're going. He pulls an envelope out of the back pocket of his trousers. He hands it over to you in the most gentle way that he can. You can see that he's trembling, your heart melting, the desire to quell his anxieties and just hold him. You take it from him and open it. Within the contents, it's two tickets to the Botanical Gardens and confirmation of a reservation to have high tea within the grounds. You look over to him, his eyes are telling you that he needs to know what you think. You pounce on him on the couch, embracing him. You can smell the shampoo on his hair, further melting into the hug. "This is such a thoughtful gift! I'm so excited to do this with you, but are you sure you'll feel comfortable doing this?"

He stares at the ceiling, contemplating the answer to your question. "I don't know if I'll like the food, but I know that I'd be the happiest man to be surrounding my lady with the most beautiful flowers. If it gets too hot, we can hide in the small museum archives, I'd still have something beautiful in the end." His ears are red, but his shy smile steals your heart. You see how much thought he put into this for you. You feel so lucky that he wants to spend time with you at the gardens, but also that he nabbed a reservation at the tea room. It's very coveted by many to get a reservation on that specific day and time. The way his arms rest on your waist makes this feel all the better, and you couldn't wait for your big date with Choso.

The day came; You both had agreed that you could not go to the tea room wearing t-shirts, jeans, and flannel. Instead, you both compromised on dressing in your best garments. You both decided to go thrifting and find a nice dress to complement your outing. He helped you choose the one that would make you stand out amongst the flowers. You chose a blazer and a tie that would match the colour of your dress. He found a pair of trousers that were not denim, putting the whole look together in the dressing room. You both feel the buzz as you pose in front of the mirror, wondering how today's outing will turn out.

He drove in a car that belonged in a junkyard, but it still ran and got him from point A to point B. The car has never broken down, so it was a perfect carriage for both of you. He was acting more gentlemanly than usual, opening the door for you and offering his arm as he escorted you into the grounds. He eagerly handed the tickets to the attendant. The attendant gives you a sticker each to signify that you paid for your entrance. You're informed to always have the sticker visible at all times. They hand you a brochure and also signal to follow the signs if you need to get to the tea room in the centre of the gardens.

Entering the grounds, you're in awe of how well-maintained everything is. You quickly observe that they're selling parasols as it will be a high of 29°C. Choso observes you staring at them. "Which colour do you want?" You turn to him with a beaming smile and point to the one that caught your eye. He would gladly buy you anything and everything you want. He worked those extra shifts a while back to be able to provide you with this perfect day today. He holds the parasol for you as you walk towards the tea room. The sun is beaming, but he won't let it bother him; he just knows that today is all about you.

The tea room is beautiful. There is an indoor section with beautiful tea sets and linens. In the patio area, it overlooks a meadow of tulips. For today, your reservation is outside, perfect for this present moment. You are given a menu with a tea selection, along with a menu and a separate one for specific dietary restrictions. There is light banter between you and him, and you try to keep the noise down as there are other patrons nearby, but you'll never change for anyone, and you don't want Choso to do so either. He lets you choose from the menu what you want, and you both select your own choice of tea. He goes for the Jasmine Green tea, with you deciding to go for a recommendation, feeling a little adventurous in the moment. Your serving towers of food include cucumber sandwiches, ham & cheese sandwiches, various spreads, and a variety of cookies and tarts for dessert. Choso resists making a face, but he does not enjoy the texture of the cucumber sandwiches. He makes an effort to enjoy the various spreads, but his face sours at the spices used. You offer him the ham & cheese sandwiches instead, and you'd happily eat the other choices for food. He's ashamed that he couldn't conceal his reactions, but you're always happy to accommodate him. He wasn't as keen on the tarts either, so you settled for eating the tarts and he could enjoy the cookies. You're proud of him for making an effort to try new things with you. "Thank you, baby." You lean in to kiss his cheek, causing him to blush slightly.

After settling the bill, you walk around the various gardens. There's a Japanese garden with a built-in bridge overlooking a koi pond. He decides to photograph you with the parasol, near the blossoms; you were so beautiful in this moment, he needed to keep this memory to himself forever. You pull him close when he's done, so he can take a selfie with you. The way the sunbeams beneath you forces Choso to close his eyes as the picture is taken. The smiles are never concealed, making this a picture-perfect moment. He guides you through the various gardens with flora and structures unique to the country that inspires it. Each one is more unique and beautiful than the last. The afternoon makes the skies above a shade of orange and pink, and you wonder how you got so lucky. Just as you are about to share how you feel with him, you hear a giant rumble. Choso grins, concealing his embarrassment that he's very hungry.

"How about your favourite place tonight? My treat!" You take his hand and pull him towards the exit. He rushes to open the door for you and then gets in the car. He loosens his tie and takes off his blazer. He starts the car, chasing down the sunset, driving to his favourite dinner spot, excited to finally eat something that he knows he will enjoy.

[suhosumi]

Stanley snyder x oc - Chapter 1

English it's not my first language so please be indulgent !

This chapter content smut !!!!

When class finishes, a young woman quickly leaves the university, taking a few narrow alleys. She hurries home, knowing that once the day begins, everything becomes a matter of timing. She wakes up at 6 AM, and her day doesn’t end until 2 or 3 AM the next morning.

She quickly enters in her 160 squares foot studio appartement ,she changes her clothers and flops onto her bed. She open a video on YouTube about a well-known forensic pathologist. She fall asleep et wake up around 8 pm. Slowly, she emerge of her sleep, she grabs a red bull in her fridge, she open it avoiding to break her nail and start to sip, knowing she needs it to keep going.

She heads to the bathroom, get dressed, puts on makeup, and one half an hour later and go to her bartendin job.

- How are you Kayla ? Exclaimes his boss, giving her a thumbs-up.

She replies imitating him a litlle smile on her face. The hour pass and she avoids drinking whats customers offer her. Had a attractive face and body, its not uncommon that some boring men thats would her compagny.

But today its different.

Tonight a handsome man approche the bar with charismatic way and take place on the high chair with a toothpick between his colored lips. Kayla remains hypnotized for a moment by this man. He's tall and slender but his tight black t-shirt betrays a well-honed muscular Il est grand et élancé mais son t-shirt noir et moulant trahit une. The man seems to notice that the girl stare at him and smirk of.

At his smirk, Kayla understand that's she's not the first person who this man do somthing to her.

He don't do anything excepted looking Kayla and she comes naturally to him for his order.

- Can i get you something

The blond man take a moment to analyse the woman, then grabs his toothpick in one hand.

- An Amercian, he demands.

Kayla does so n front of him and start with the ice cubes then the rest of the drink. When she puts the drink down, the man places a 50$ bill on the counter.

- Keep the change.

Hesitant at first, she thinks about paying her studies and takes the to drink without thinking more at. the man Sips his drink stare at kayla who feel his eyes on her. She dosen't confront him so she act like nothing until he start to speak.

- What's a pretty girl like you do in this kid of job?

This phrase... its always the same, and she's heard it a lot of time but from him its sounds different.

- I have to pay for my studies, sir.

Why did she call him sir ?? she curses herself

But this simple word seems to make him feel something cause of his smile growing.

- What kind of study ?

- Medecine. Answer Kayla.

- Interesting. He finish his cocktail in one glups and take bakc his toothpick between his lips.

Kayla stare his purple lips. The man notice it.

- Get me an other one my love.

- Don't call me like that i have a name. she repply crossing her arms on her chest suddenly feeling confident in front of this man with a breathtaking charisma.

- Oh really ? And what's your name love ? He asks making the toothpick rolling to the other side between his lips.

Kayla rolls her eyes.

- You don't need to know.

That's make him laugh.

- I don't see waht is funny, She say most for herself.

the blond man rests his elbow on the counter and he's rests his head in his hand and one leg over the other. He's looking at her durnat on eentire hour and that's was stange because that's dosen't bothering Kayla.

The women come back to the man with a question on her mind.

- And what do you plan to do with your evening ? She asks.

- Have fun. He replies taking a sip of his drink.

- Drinking alone at the bar ?

He laughs.

- You're keeping me compagny, right ? Maybe until the end of the night. He smiles.

Kayla turns her back to him, hiding her face as she start to blush.

This isn't the first time she's been made to understand that someone wanted her body, but this time the desire was mutual. Kayla also coveted him, but in a much less direct way. Perhaps it was time to think, she thought, but feeling playful, she stopped herself.

- Oh wow, how original ! you're only the fifth today.

- I'll be the last one don't worry, He asserts taking an other si.

Her teeth sink gently into her lower lip as his confidence catches her off balance.

- Can i ask why ?

- Because im better then 99% of the men that you meet.

- Better? She asks.

- In bed, Stan closes his eyes, savoring his drink, before opening them to look at the young woman, completely red. And you will understand what i mean.

-I-I have to take care of the other customers, she says suddenly, much too muffled by his intimidating aura.

ke different drinks for customers. And then return to the man like the waves returning to the shore. Something about him desperately attracts her.

- I'll be done in 30 min. She tells him.

He smiles at her in a confident way.

When her shift is over, Kayla grabs her bag and quickly changes before joining this stranger. She tightens her bag in her hand and takes the first step towards him.

The blond man raises an eyebrow, eyeing her up and down. The tall man bites his lip predatorily.

In the end, maybe that was what was happening. Kayla felt like prey facing her predator, and yet it didn't bother her. She would let him do what he wanted with her.

-I live a thirty-minute walk from here, she warns.

-Give me your address, he asks, opening the GPS app on his phone with one hand and grabbing his car keys in the other.

Kayla gives it to him without flinching, far too absorbed by this man to be suspicious.

He gets into his car, watching Kayla follow him. Once seated, the man grabs a blue and white pack and pulls out a cylindrical stick that Kayla recognizes as a cigarette. He lights it in his car, not asking his passenger if it bothers her, Kayla hates the smell.

The man turns the key in his car, and the engine immediately roars, making a noise that sounds expensive. Kayla fixes her right hand on the steering wheel, her other hand resting on the edge of the window. Kayla bites her lower lip, her heart pounding, dreading what's about to happen.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, for her, the trip is quite short. The man quickly parks in a space on the street before turning off the engine.

-Well, that's a nice building, he says, taking his cigarette out of his mouth, his voice filled with irony.

Ashamed, Kayla sinks back into her seat, knowing she can't argue. She quickly opens the door as if to escape, hoping he'll follow her quickly. He doesn't need to be asked twice and gets out of the car as well, as charismatic as ever.

He falls into step with her, quickly climbing the stairs while following her. Kayla jams her keys into the lock, and as soon as the door opens, the blond man grabs her hips, pushing her inside the apartment. He slams the door shut with his foot and pins the young woman against the wall.

The man grabs her chin with his right hand, lifting her face upwards so he can gaze into her lust-filled eyes.

-Stan, he says.

Kayla frowns, not understanding.

-Call me Stan, he says in a whisper, a few centimeters from her lips.

The man named Stan lowers his face to her neck, letting Kayla's floral scent coat it. He pushes her sweater back over her shoulder, leaving the skin exposed. He sinks his teeth into it, eliciting a gasp from the young woman who hadn't expected it.

Kayla, not really knowing what to do, places her hand in Stan's hair, encouraging him in what he was doing.

Stan decides that his shoulder is no longer enough and slowly moves towards her lips. Before snatching a kiss from her, the young woman enters, opening her lips, giving him full access to her.

She lets him take possession of her mouth and places her trembling hands on his slender but sculpted chest. As their kiss took on a possessive and demanding tone, Stan grabbed her thighs so she could wrap them around his hips, to which she obediently obeyed.

-Your room, he asked between two kisses in the hallway.

-Here, she indicated, pointing to her living room, which doubled as her bedroom.

He let the young woman fall gently onto the bed. Feeling a sensation between her legs, she squeezed them together, her cheeks burning. At her reaction, the blond man frowned, a predatory smile plastered on his lips.

He spread her legs, settling between them.

-Are you sure? he asked softly, feeling resistance in his gesture.

Kayla nodded gently. With a slight hesitation, Stan finally grabbed the hem of Kayla's sweater to remove it. Stan kissed her jaw, slowly moving down to her skirt, exploring her body. He looks into her eyes, slowly pulling the zipper to reveal her underwear.

Before he can remove anything else, Kayla stops him in his tracks.

Under Stan's curious gaze, the young woman beneath him grabs him in another kiss, this time taking the lead, before grabbing Stan's black t-shirt to pull it off, revealing his toned body.

Once shirtless, the man smiles amusedly at Kayla, who looks a little more engaging.

Just as he was about to prepare the young woman, she stops him in his tracks again.

-I'm... I... Stan… I'm scared… she confesses.

-Do you want to stop ?

She shook her head from side to side, wanting to continue.

Stan's eyes widened, finally understanding what was bothering him about this woman.

-Are you a virgin ?

Kayla began to blush with shame, hiding her face from Stan. He grabbed her hands, moving them away from her face.

-Are you sure you're okay ? He asks don't want to stop there.

She nodded.

-Fine, I'll just be more patient.

So that's what he did. Stan took his time introducing Kayla to his body. He went slowly, never rushing her at any point. He, who was used to being rough and wild, showed gentleness and understanding.

When their bodies met, Kayla felt a terrible pain, as she had expected. Stan had warned her that the first few seconds wouldn't be pleasant. Then, as the seconds ticked by, Kayla gave in to the pleasure that was beginning to build within her.

-Are you still okay ? he asks, ready to stop.

Kayla breathes a small yes, brimming with pleasure, raising her hips, encouraging him to continue. This delights Stan.

As the two reach their limits, Kayla digs her short nails into the man's broad back.

He moans softly at the sensation of giving in to the pleasure.

Exhausted, Kayla lets herself fall completely back onto the mattress, which seemed so inviting at that moment.

Stan, for his part, pulls out of the young woman before standing up.

-Are you leaving already?

-I'll be back, he assures her. And by the way, don't give out your address so easily again.

Kayla nods, not really heeding the advice, which sounded more like an order than anything else. Stan is back two minutes later with a glass of water for Kayla. He had no reason to take such good care of this woman, whose name he didn't even know, but something about her made him want to watch over her. Maybe he hadn't had a relationship for too long?

Kayla thanked him and downed the glass in one gulp before diving back into the covers, making way for Stan. He settled down next to her, and unlike his previous conquests, Kayla didn't come and cuddle up to him.

Surprised, he asked her again if she was okay, but Kayla seemed to have already fallen asleep. He sighed, feeling lonely despite the woman's presence. He was used to this feeling; it took over him after every sexual encounter.

-Take me in your arms, ​​please.. she told him.

This surprised the man even more. He put one arm under her breasts and the other around her hips to pull her closer.

Kayla fell asleep this time, completely naked, in the arms of this stranger. Stan stayed up for a few more hours, thinking about her day ahead. He fell asleep a few hours later.

When she woke up, Kayla stretched her entire body, still drowsy. She had had one of the best nights she'd ever had until her classes came flooding back to her. She rushed to her phone, lying on her coffee table. Yet, she hadn't taken it out of her bag, she remembered.

Then she remembered Stan, but she didn't see him anywhere. He must be gone, Kayla thought, disappointed. She grabbed her phone and landed directly on a contact card named Stan.

She smiled, happy to keep in touch with him, but decided to deal with it later; the emergency was her classes.

She got up, took a shower, poured a cup of coffee to which she would add soy milk, then brushed her teeth before leaving home for the university. Arriving in front of the lecture hall, she hesitated for a moment before going in; she couldn't miss a class, not with the kind of classmates she has in medical school.

Taking a seat, she took out her computer to type the lecture, but during the hour, her mind wandered here and there until she remembered last night. Had he enjoyed it too? She hadn't asked him…

She turned on her phone, tapping on Stan's profile, then on the messages, but no messages came to mind… What should she write? Kayla ignored the message and returned to the lecture.

In the next lecture, which was a tutorial, she received the grade for a test, a nice little 18/20. Satisfied, she put the paper in her bag. Unfortunately, she wouldn't have anyone to celebrate with except maybe her boss…

Once the day was over, she repeated the same routine as yesterday: sleep then work.

-How was your day, miss? her boss asked while he prepared the bar.

-I got an 18 out of 20 in Chemistry, she smiled.

-Very good ! he exclaimed.

Kayla thanked him. Indeed, Mr. Bob was her only point of reference in life. She didn't really have any friends, no boyfriend or girlfriend, and even fewer parents to visit from time to time. They were always there, though, they didn't even live particularly far from her, but Kayla was on very bad terms with them.

She spent her evening distributing drinks here and there to the customers, receiving some from time to time, occasionally glancing at the bar, not to check on new customers but more to see if the famous blond guy would return.

Unfortunately for her, he showed no sign of being there.

The week was going on as usual, and Kayla was feeling tired of this habit. Her life seemed terribly empty since that evening with Stan.

One day during class, Kayla decided that after two weeks without seeing him, it was time to send him a message.

-Hi, she said, forgetting to introduce herself.

She gave him time to respond, but after a few days without a reply, she finally got angry. Why had he given her his number if he wasn't planning on getting back in touch with her?

She looked at the message in the middle of Biology class and decided to send him another one.

-It's Kayla, the girl from the bar.

Still no answer.

On her way home, she cursed him. She really shouldn't have done what she did; that bastard didn't deserve the privilege of her first time!

He had warned her that he only wanted to have fun…

The next day, when she woke up and her phone started ringing, telling her it was 6:00 a.m., she saw a message from him.

"I know."

That's all?

She waited a week and a half for two words?

She was going to poison him if she ever saw him again. "If ever," which she hoped would turn into "soon." However, she couldn't force things. If he didn't want to see her, then she couldn't force her presence on him…

Thank you so much for reading my story, don't hesitate to correct me or give me your opinion !!!

There is 7 chapter on my wattpad if you want but it's in french t the moment !

[uravitypng]

𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥

pairing: kei tsukishima x (chubby) reader, tadashi yamaguchi x (chubby) reader

summary: nothing could ever split you and your best friends apart

word count: 1.6k words

a/n: this is complete fluff! i adore them! originally it wasn't meant to be under a cut but i decided it was too long to not be. this has been on my mind for about a couple months and has been in my drafts for about a week or two now. even though this isn't smut my blog is 18+ and that includes this post to, mdni

best friends tsukki and tadashi who absolutely love you but tsukishima won't tell you that, he won't even admit it to himself. yamaguchi is more honest with his feelings, he doesn't deny his own feelings and is open in his words, telling you how he cares about you, calling you affectionate nicknames and giving you compliments.

"have you had dinner yet honey?" yamaguchi questions.

"huh? oh.. um... yeah..." you haven't. you haven't had lunch either, work was hectic and you were planning on having something but nothing was microwavable and you've run out of cereal and bread, so you can't make toast, too.

at your answer your two best friends pause what they were doing. it's a tuesday night and you're planning on watching a documentary that's just come onto netflix that kei's been talking about. you have a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other, ready to cosy up on the sofa, tadashi's making himself a coffee in the kitchen and tsukki's in the hallway, when they hear you they pause and make there way to you, supporting matching frowns. they can tell by your response that you're lying, plus the fact that you likely didn't eat anything at lunch either, they hope you ate at breakfast.

"that doesn't really sound believable hon," yamaguchi tells you.

"yeah cut the shit," tsukishima adds on.

"i-um, the boss was really on my case today so i didn't have time to eat on my break and i was planning on eating when i got home before you guys came, i was going to get something easy that isn't a lot of effort but i don't have anything in. i'll have to go shopping tomorrow."

"idiot," kei says under his breath and walks past you, sitting on the sofa and unlocking his phone.

tadashi moves behind you and holds your shoulders gently pushing you to follow tsukishima. "you know you need to eat." he moves you to join tsukki on the sofa and squeezes your shoulder before going back into the kitchen to fetch his coffee and join you both.

tsukishima's flicking down his phone, the light reflecting of his glasses, "you want me to order from that pizza place down the street or do you want sushi?"

it's a weekend, one of the very rare weekends when peoples schedules are free, four on the team. hinata, kageyama and kei and tadashi.

currently your best friends are being questioned by hinata about their feelings for you. complete denial from tsukishima, "what?! what are you talking about pipsqueak, there's nothing going on between us. like i would ever like her! yamaguchi tell him!"

yamaguchi looks at tsukishima to hinata, then back again at tsukishima, "what am i telling him tsukki?"

"are you fucking kidding me yamaguchi! tell him that i'm not in love with her or that you're not in love with her. tell her that she's not dating one of us!"

"ohhh-" tadashi nods his head, "hinata, tsukki always says that he doesn't feel that way. koganegawa asked something similar before and afterwards koganegawa told me that during training that day tsukki's blocks had a hundreds time more power than normal and it was really intimating."

"what about you then yamaguchi?"

"oh it's-" he's cut off as his phone rings. "sorry, i should get this." after a minute he hangs up and puts his phone in his back pocket, "i need to go guys, that was the hospital."

tsukishima quickly stands up, yamaguchi is on two people's contact list his and... 'oh fuck,' kei panics. "is she okay?!"

"yeah it's just a sprain, she twisted her ankle but they called to have someone pick her up. she can't drive and it's best not to take public transport right away."

"let's go then." tsukishima grabs his car keys and wallet that was on the table.

they have been looking after you since you've met them, and it's clear to yamaguchi that kei feels the same way he does even if he'll never voice it, that's one of main reasons why yamaguchi would never ask you out.

it's clear to yamaguchi, like, for instance right now, as kei's driving to pick you up after your accident, silent with a worried look on his face, it's clear to yamaguchi how much tsukki cares. how tsukki refers to you as 'shortcake,' he doesn't think you've ever made the connection that he calls you his favourite food. he doesn't eat much, hardly anything really, but shortcake? he has cravings.

they've been your best friends since school, and have been calling you nicknames since then too.

you're pouting with your arms crossed while the three of you study together, it's your second year at karasuno and exams were coming up. kei and tadashi are in a different class than you, both of them are in class 2-4, it was annoying that you weren't in their class. not only were they in the best class but they were the best of the class so they helped you with studying a lot of time. tsukishima was always reluctant, saying he had better things to do but he still always turned up at tadashi's house for study sessions. you tapped your pen frustrated at the question you were stuck on, that's when kei asked do you need him to explain it and tadashi asked if you were okay.

"are you really stuck on these? they're easy." both of you glare at tsukishima. he leans over to you, "which one? i'll talk you through it."

"do you really want to listen to tsukki honey? i'm better at japanese."

"yeah but you're terrible at english." tsukishima smirks at him. you weren't even planning to revise english for a couple more weeks.

all that night he kept replaying that conversation, he kept replaying how yamaguchi called you honey. a little while after that he started to call you shortcake.

all three of you were walking home together from school one night when kei called you shortcake again, you stopped on the spot and turned to look at them, pouting with your arms crossed. "what's with both of you calling me food petnames? honey? shortcake? if i was someone else i think i would be offended, just because someone's not thin and on the thicker side you shouldn't call them food names. i know i like food but still!" tsukishima started calling you it more, you looked cute with that pout on your face pretending not to like the names. after he realises he called you cute in his head, he puts in his earbuds and blasts his music as loud as possible. you rolled your eyes at the action, 'yams can we stop of at the shops? i don't want to admit it but i really want some shortcake now' you ask him and yamaguchi snickers.

you all attend a party together after your ankle is fully healed, it's someone's birthday. both you and yamaguchi are lightweights and tsukishima's well aware that by the end of the night he'll most likely be looking after the two of you. yamaguchi isn't drunk yet, however you are, leaning against and wrapping you arms around his neck. "yams," you whine in a tone to get his attention however that was pointless because all of his attention was already focused on you when you pressed your soft plump body up against him, "you're so cute! your freckles are so pretty! you're so pretty 'dashi."

yamaguchi smiles wide and pats your head, you giggle. "you're even cuter."

your walk is almost a stumble as you go to tsukishima. kei can tell something is wrong when he spots you walking towards you, you have a frown on your face and your movement is wobbly. "what's up with you?" he asks you as soon as you get close enough.

"nothing!" you snap, turning your head to the side. it's a surprise that you're not shooting daggers at the girl who's standing a bit too close to your best friend in your opinion. "who's this?" you ask, your words are slightly slurred but sound almost detached and cold.

"ume, she's the sister of one of the sendai frogs," tsukishima replies.

"oh?" 'so not a girlfriend, just a sister?' you grab hold of kei's arm. he's not really one for physical affection but he lets you get away with it, especially when drunk. "kei's my best friend! you can't have him!" tsukishima smirks, knowing that your attempts at looking menacingly and glaring are completely unsuccessful.

ume's eyes widen, with a small smile on her face she says over the music that sounds like she mumbles, "alright, i'll go find my brother."

when her back is turned you stick out your tongue and tsukki sniggers. "you alright now shortcake?" he smirks. "you do know that other people have to talk to me. you can't just keep me stopping on talking to people shortcake."

you look at him in the eye and pout, "'m not doing that. you have tadashi too!" tsukishima chuckles. "it's us three forever tsukki, nothing's gonna change that."

tsukishima's eyes shine with fondness and longing as they drift over to where yamaguchi is, currently laughing at kageyama's scrunched up face as he attempts to down a drink. knowing you'll be too drunk to remember this by tomorrow, he drinks the rest of his whiskey that he was currently nursing and he walks the short distance towards the chairs knowing that you won't let go of his arm and pulls you down on his lap, facing him. the chair is lumpy and uncomfy but it's one hundred percent worth it to have you on top of him. your eyes are a bit glazed over and you look at him dazed, he clasps both his hands in yours. "you're right about that shortcake, us three forever."

[buckybarneswife125]

This is literally just a crack fic

Basically you and Bucky are together and you got pregnant, you’re both trying to hide it from the thunderbolts… chaos ensues.

“You’re sure this is your size?” Valentina asks incredulously.

“Yes!” You say for what feels like the 10th time.

Valentina wanted you all to have new suits to “promote” the new avengers. You had yours sized and made about 4 months ago… right before you got pregnant.

Valentina huffs and her arms shoot up in frustration. “Well I guess you’ll just have to wear your old suit, since the measurements are obviously wrong.”

You’re almost relieved when you realize your old suit will definitely not fit either, then Valentina will definitely know something is going on.

***

The next day you’re in the kitchen hiding behind the fridge door as you munch on pickles and mustard. You’re not proud that you ate the whole jar of pickles but you’re creating a super-solider baby, who cares.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You bite back a groan as you hear walkers surprised voice. He had come up behind you, seeing that you’re eating the last pickle and squirting mustard on it.

“… I was hungry..?” You answer though it’s more of a question.

He looks you up and down with a mix of confusion and disgust on his face. He walks away shaking his head mumbling something about ‘women’

***

Yelena is known for making the best food. You usually always enjoy her dishes. This time she had made spaghetti and meatballs, usually you would love it, but for some reason the smell of the sauce just made you extremely nauseous.

Throughout the time she was making dinner you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom to throw up multiple times. Bucky was growing more and more concerned for you the longer you forced yourself to be in that environment.

He touched your head and pretended you had a fever, telling the team you both were calling it a night.

The team shot each other confused looks but otherwise seemed unconcerned.

***

“Cmon!! You have to try this dress on!!” Ava urged, shoving it in your face.

The dress was beautiful, and exactly your style but you knew if you put it on it would show off your already large bump.

You’re just barely able to conceal it with large clothes and bucky’s hoodies. You guess that the large bump has something to do with the damn super soldier you’re growing.

“I’m sorry Ava, I’m really just not feeling it tonight,” you tell her.

You see her brows furrow just a bit then she puts the dress back and happily drags you to another store.

***

“You know we’re going to have to tell them soon,” Bucky tells you as his flesh hand rubs small, soothing circles around your swollen stomach.

“Are you saying I’m big?” You ask him disbelievingly.

He shakes his head laughing, “doll, you’re not ‘big’ you’re pregnant with a super soldier’s baby. I’m just saying that it’s going to get harder to hide. I heard bob grumbling today about how annoying it is to fold all the sweat pants.”

“I just want a little more peace, just us. Please?” You ask him.

“Of course, my love,” Bucky answers softly kissing your stomach, then your lips.

***

“Where is he?!” You yell as you run to the med bay.

Ava had told you Bucky was shot during the mission. You dropped everything and got to the med bay as fast as you could.

You reached a doctor and demanded him to tell you where Bucky was.

“Ma’am you shouldn’t be running around in your condition-”

“He is the father! I need to see him!” You said loudly.

The doctor finally caved and told you what room under the condition you walk and take the elevator.

Begrudgingly, you agreed. Fidgeting biting your lips and nails the slow ride up.

You walked into the room with nothing else on your mind but Bucky.

The second you roughly open the door Yelena’s eyes were on you. Everyone else was completing the mission report.

“Oh y/n, thank god! Bucky has been calling for y-” Yelena started. “Oh my god” she said, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You’re pregnant?” She asked.

How would she even… oh. You looked down and saw your large bump protruding from under one of bucky’s shirts. Damnit. When you got the call you didn’t even think to change.

“Surprise” you said lamely.

You saw her mouth open to ask more questions, but then Bucky groaned.

Immediately, you were at his side.

“Bucky?” You asked softly.

“Doll?” He replied confused.

From the corner of your eye you saw Yelena give you an incredulous glare.

Whoops.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks.

“Am I okay? Bucky you’re the one that was shot,” you say while laughing.

“Yeah but you’re the one that’s—”

“Pregnant yeah” Yelena said, cutting Bucky off.

Bucky shot you a confused look then down at your swollen stomach that was very obvious, and understanding shown on his face.

“How… how far along are you? I don’t want to be mean, but you look… very pregnant.” Yelena asked.

“Well technically, I’m seven months but-”

“Seven months!?” Yelena yelled. “How in the world… the spaghetti and- and the loose clothes… god for some super spy I’m really not observant.” Yelena huffed.

“Okay, okay what is all the commotion?”

You groaned as Alexi came in, followed by the rest of the team.

Damn.

“Did Bucky die or something?” Walker asks, with a suspicious amount of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, well that’s new!” Ava said, eyes zeroed in on your stomach.

Well this was it. The cat is most definitely out of the bag.

The rest of the team followed her line of view and it was very quiet for a moment.

“What the..?” Walker started.

“Congratulations!” Alexi bellowed, coming towards you with his arms outstretched. You thought it was a hug but when his arms moved lower you realized it was to touch your stomach.

Bucky hated when people touched your stomach. Immediately, Bucky sat up in bed and protectively put an arm around your swollen stomach and pulled you closer to him.

“Fuck no you’re not touching my kid.” Bucky said firmly.

Even Walker looked a bit startled.

“Well I guess that explains why I found a bag of baby clothes in your room.” Bob said thoughtfully.

Suddenly all eyes were on him.

“Why were you in my room?” You ask him.

Bob looks surprised that you even asked. “I was getting your dirty laundry.” He replied like it was obvious.

[never-mind-09]

The silence in the manor had grown heavy.

Too heavy.

Three days. No sign of him. No word.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t your place to ask.

You weren’t his master. You weren’t even anything clearly defined.

But you were something.

At least… you thought so.

And now, just like that, he’s back.

Standing in the hall outside your room. Dusting off a glove like he never left.

Not a hair out of place. Not even a wrinkle in his coat.

Your heart stutters but you force your face to stay neutral.

"You're back," you say, not quite a question.

He bows his head slightly. "Indeed."

A beat.

You wait for more. An explanation. A reason. Anything.

It doesn't come.

He just stands there. Calm. Watching. As if he hadn’t vanished like a ghost.

You swallow. “No note?”

“I assumed it unnecessary. You know I always return.”

You almost laugh. But it’s hollow. “Right. Silly me.”

Your footsteps echo as you cross the room. You set down the book you hadn’t really been reading and lean back on the edge of the table, arms folded.

So,” you say finally, quietly, “what are we?”

He doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t.

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Your little toy for the five spare minutes you happen to have between duties?”

That lands. Not because he reacts—but because he doesn’t. Not even a flicker.

And somehow, that’s worse.

You shake your head, more to yourself than to him. “Forget it.”

You look away. Your shoulders sag, just slightly.

You tell yourself not to care. Not to feel this stupid tug in your chest. Not to wonder if he sees you as anything more than a distraction.

But you do care. And you do wonder.

Still…

What right did you even have to ask?

You draw in a breath, trying to make your voice sound neutral again. “I still have things to do."

You don’t meet his eyes. “Please go.”

No resistance. No argument.

Sebastian only bows his head slightly, that unreadable smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“As you wish.”

The day drags on slowly, the same routine of dusting, sorting, and filing. But it feels different today. There's an edge to everything. The silence of the manor is only broken by the sound of your movements, the quiet shuffle of your shoes across the floor.

You're in the library now, organizing the shelves. You can feel it before he speaks. The weight of his presence, the familiar shift in the air.

"You’re doing it all wrong, you know."

You freeze for a moment, but don't turn around. You can’t be bothered to look at him just yet.

“I don’t need your help, Sebastian,” you say, the sharpness in your voice betraying how much his presence has started to get under your skin. "I have it covered."

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but you can almost hear the faintest amusement in his silence. And then, ever the patient one, he moves closer, rearranging the books with a precision only he could manage.

You clench your jaw, irritation building.

“What do you want, Sebastian?” you ask, frustration creeping into your tone. “You’re always around when I’m just trying to get some damn peace.”

This time, he pauses completely, turning to face you. His eyes are cool, assessing you in a way that only he can do.

“You’re assuming you're just a plaything for my convenience,” he says, his voice calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes your heart skip a beat. “Bold of you, don’t you think?”

For a moment, your breath hitches. The words stung, but there’s truth in them, too. The kind of truth you hadn’t really wanted to face. But before you can respond, the frustration bursts forth.

“No,” you snap, turning toward him fully now, anger flaring. “I’m the one who’s bold? You’re the one who makes me feel like that—like I’m nothing more than an afterthought. Just here when it’s convenient for you, and gone when you decide you don’t need me. How else am I supposed to feel?”

His gaze doesn’t waver. He doesn’t get defensive, doesn’t try to deflect.

“Fair enough,” he says softly, taking a small step closer. His voice is low, almost too calm for what’s just transpired. “But I never said you were nothing. Perhaps you simply assumed that’s all I saw you as. That’s on you, not me.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words don’t come. Instead, you feel a sharp tug in your chest. You hate how much he’s getting under your skin. How much you feel like you need to explain yourself.

And then, almost as if he’s read your thoughts, he steps forward, gently cupping your face in his hands. His touch is cool, but there’s something soft in the way he holds you, deliberate, but not forceful.

He leans in and his kiss is slow, tender. It pulls at you in a way you didn’t expect, all soft pressure and a quiet heat. His thumbs brush lightly over your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, and for a moment, everything else fades. There’s nothing but the feeling of his hands on your face, the warmth of his lips, and the quiet ache of something unsaid.

When he pulls away, his fingers linger at your jaw.

“You need to stop assuming so much,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur, the calm after the storm. “Not everything is what you think it is. And not everything is as complicated as you make it.”

You swallow, still processing the rush of emotions.

His gaze is steady, and even though his words are quiet, there’s an undeniable weight to them.

Finally, you settle for a simple, soft nod, even if you’re still caught in the confusion of it all.