#by whatever i end up doing on the second level

[goonforgeto]

“Hi, baby,” you coo, voice softening as you lean into the car window, arms folded. "I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” your ex-husband says smugly.

Your smile drops as you turn to face him, brows lifted in clear annoyance. “I wasn’t talking to you, Satoru. Just hand me my daughter, and I’ll be on my way.”

His grin doesn't falter. “Our daughter,” he corrects, the emphasis deliberate.

You sigh in defeat, pushing yourself off his stupidly pristine Porsche. “Whatever, Satoru. Just unlock the car.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, already moving. “I’ll get her—you grab her stuff from the trunk.”

He clicks the key fob, and with a soft beep, the trunk lifts open.

The parking lot where you and Satoru agree to meet every Sunday sits in its usual state of quiet limbo—wide, cracked pavement stretching out under a gray afternoon sky. A few scattered cars are parked on the far end, their owners nowhere in sight, leaving the space between you and the rest of the world feeling even more hollow.

You make your way around the back of the car, heels of your stilettos clicking against the pavement in a rhythm that feels far too loud in the silence. The trunk is already open, humming faintly. You reach in and grab her backpack, only to pause at the unfamiliar lightness of it.

Your brows knit together.

It’s practically half the weight of what you packed for her just a few days ago—missing the extra pair of sneakers, the folder of coloring pages, maybe even her favorite stuffed dolphin if you’re judging by how the fabric doesn’t bulge the way it normally does.

A familiar frustration bubbles beneath your ribs. You don’t say anything—not yet—but your grip on the strap tightens as you pull the bag over your shoulder, shutting the trunk a little harder than necessary.

“Woah, watch the car, sweetheart,” Satoru teases, grinning as he lifts your daughter out of the car seat. Her light-up sneakers flash as they hit the pavement, tiny feet already sprinting toward you.

You drop to your knees, arms outstretched just in time to catch her. She barrels into you with all the force her little body can muster, and you stumble back a step, laughing softly into her hair as you hold her tight.

But the warmth in your chest doesn’t last long.

“Satoru,” you say, straightening up, your tone clipped but careful enough not to alarm your daughter. “Where is the rest of her stuff? I sent her with a full bag last weekend.”

“Relax, mama,” he says, tone breezy, unbothered. “She threw up. Her stuff’s being dry cleaned.”

Your frown deepens, gaze dropping to your daughter’s clean but clearly borrowed sweatshirt. You don’t push it in front of her—but you will.

You set her gently on the ground, brushing a hand through her hair before reaching into your purse for your keys. With a soft beep, the car unlocks.

“Baby, go sit in the car for a second, okay?” you say, keeping your voice light as you open the back door for her. “Mommy has to talk to Daddy.”

She nods without fuss, climbing in with the trust only a child can have. And when the door clicks shut behind her, the smile on your face vanishes completely.

“What the fuck, Satoru,” you snap, voice sharp and low. “Why didn’t you tell me she was sick?”

He doesn’t flinch. He never does. “Sweetheart,” he says, calm as ever. It used to drive you crazy when you were married—how level-headed he could be, even when you were coming apart at the seams. “It’s okay. I dealt with it.”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest. “No, it’s not okay. I don’t care if you ‘dealt with it.’ What if it was more serious? What if she needed to go to a hospital and I had no idea?”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s already tired of this conversation. “Look, I am her parent too. I understand you’re concerned, but I’m fully capable of taking care of her. You don’t tell me every little thing that happens when she’s with you, do you?”

You stare at him, stunned. “Are you seriously comparing her scraping her knee at the park to vomiting?”

“She vomited once,” he says, voice still maddeningly level. “I monitored her, gave her fluids, made sure she rested. She didn’t have a fever, she wasn’t lethargic—”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You take a step toward him, frustrated tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “The point is you should have told me. I’m her mother. I deserve to know when she’s not feeling well.”

There’s a beat of silence.

For once, something cracks in his expression.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he finally admits. “I figured you’d just… stress yourself out, even if it was nothing.”

You breathe in through your nose, trying to calm your heart.

“Of course I’d worry,” you say, softer now. “That’s what being a parent is, Satoru. I’d rather be worried and know than be blindsided when I pick her up.”

He looks down for a second, then back at you. “You’re right,” he says. “I should’ve told you. I didn’t mean to keep it from you—I just didn’t want to start a whole thing.”

You exhale slowly. The tension still simmers beneath your skin, but the edge of the fight has dulled.

“She okay now?” you ask.

He nods. “Yeah. Ate pancakes this morning and asked for seconds.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Pancakes, huh?”

“Blueberry,” he says, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Your recipe.”

Of course it was.

You brush your hair back and glance toward the car, where your daughter’s tiny face is pressed against the window, waiting patiently.

“Next time,” you say, turning back to him, “just tell me. I don’t care if it’s a scraped knee or a sneeze. I need to know.”

He nods again, this time more seriously. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay now?” he asks, his voice softer than it’s been all afternoon.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you step forward, letting the tension ease from your shoulders as you lean into him—something you haven’t done in what feels like forever, yet still comes as naturally as breathing. His arms come around you without hesitation, warm and steady, anchoring you in the kind of embrace you used to take for granted.

You let yourself rest there, just for a moment. Let your cheek press against the familiar fabric of his hoodie, letting the scent of him ground you.

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m okay now.”

He exhales against your temple, a quiet sound of relief, and his hand moves gently up and down your back. Not rushed. Not performative. Just comfort—quiet and real.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear. “I’ll get her some new clothes, okay? A few extra things to keep at mine too. So you don’t have to pack so much.”

He pulls a hand off of you to point at the superstore across the lot.

You nod against him, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. There’s no fight in either of you now. Just fatigue, and the tentative beginnings of mutual understanding.

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks.”

He lets his hands fall back into his pockets, rocking on his heels like he’s not sure if he should say more. You step back and turn toward your car, already spotting your daughter’s nose pressed eagerly against the rear passenger window.

“Give me a sec,” you add over your shoulder. “I’ll get her out.”

“Alright,” he says, softer now.

As you walk toward the car, keys in hand, you hear him call out softly behind you—almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it at all.

“You look good, by the way.”

You don’t stop, but the corner of your mouth twitches despite yourself. You roll your eyes as you open the car door, the familiar sound of the handle clicking breaking the moment.

Inside, your daughter is already leaning toward you from her car seat, arms outstretched like she hadn’t just seen you a few minutes ago. Her blue eyes shine with adoration—so much like his, but deeper.

“Hi, baby,” you coo, lifting her up and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Wanna go shopping with Mommy and Daddy?”

She giggles and nods, her light-up sneakers kicking as you set her down again. You reach in to grab her stuffed bunny from the seat, tucking it under her arm before closing the door.

Satoru is already by the driver’s side, sunglasses on, smirking like he’s in on some private joke you haven’t been told yet.

“You ready?” he asks.

You glance down at your daughter, who’s now babbling something about sparkly shirts and snacks, then back up at him.

“Let’s just make it quick.”

He gives you a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

The three of you head inside the store, and even though you tell yourself it’s just a quick errand—a few replacement clothes, maybe a snack or two—it still feels strangely like something else.

Something you almost forgot you missed.

[uwouldthink]

With all due respect, It's the writer's job to figure out how to take all the disparate ideas they want to include and weave them into a narrative that's not only coherent but satisfying in regards to the set up and pay off that are already established.

Adrien needed to be in the final battle because that was the story they set up. There had to be a confrontation between him and Gabriel. He didn't need to have an entire character arc in the fight but he needed to have some measure of closure, even if he would still grapple with everything in s6. That the scene needed to be primarily action focused is no excuse as any good action scene should also explore character or themes, or else it's just empty spectacle.

Is it easy to do? No. But again, that's the writers' entire job.

OP is right that having Adrien there present a difficulty in the sense that he steals a lot of the spotlight from Marinette and that she can't be relegated to a side character either. However, it's far from impossible to write the finale in a way that fixes it.

They could've add two mini climaxes in the finale, something that's pretty common in season finale where you have several characters and plotlines that need resolution. The focus would be on Adrien confronting his father in the first half and then on Marinette confronting... whatever the stakes for her in the second half.

(That's a big part of the issue. The show didn't establish any proper stakes for Marinette or an investment in the conflict other than being Ladybug. It's hard to think of a fitting season-finale level opponent that could challenge her because it's hard to pin down what she should be challenged on. Challenging her on being Ladybug is what I would go for if we're going a more canon compliant route, but it's not really satisfying because she already showed plenty she's a good Ladybug so it would just be rehashing the plot of a regular episode. Challenging her on being the guardian would be my pick, as she showed actual struggles with it and that plotline ended on her losing, so her triumph here would feel like development. However, it would need more setup in the preceding season in order to be satisfying, so it's a more extensive re-write.)

One, more canon compliant, possibility is having the two of them confronting Gabriel in a fight. Adrien initially takes the center stage because of his reaction and to get closure. Then in the middle he gets incapacitated and taken out of the fighting, leaving only Marinette to fight Hawkmoth and finish everything.

The reason he gets incapacitated is dependent on what you want to emphasize. It could be used to show that Gabriel is too far gone with the way he takes Adrien out. It could emphasize the power of love with Adrien sacrificing himself so Marinette could finish Gabriel off. It could be used to emphasize Adrien's refusal to be controlled by Gabriel by having him take himself out (and so playing on him being the hero of destruction) when Gabriel tries to to use him against Ladybug by controlling him with his amok. There are a lot of ways you can take this.

Alternatively, they could separate the heroes by adding a more dangerous obstacle for Marinette to deal with, perhaps even of the world destroying/controlling variety. So they would have two plotlines running through the finale, the more personal and lower stakes story of Adrien confronting his father and an epic save the world plotline for Marinette.

The two heroes would go to try and stop the world destroying threat only for Hawkmoth to stand in their way to it. Chat Noir would keep him busy and allow Ladybug to run past him to handle the world destroying threat. Easy separation of the two with each getting a threat to deal with that serves as a proper culmination for their arc.

What would be the threat be? Take your pick. Mlb's lore is loose enough that you can insert any number of things without setting them up. A ritual to summon some ancient, powerful creature (that Ladybug could fight), for example. Or the villains using the alliance rings to suck people's life force to power this thing or that (the final boss here could be Tomoe, potentially in a mecha or a power suit, or maybe with some of the miraculous herself).

Those setups also allow to have Bug Noire. If Adrien is incapacitated, he could give Ladybug the ring himself or ask Plagg to give it to her (say he's too far away and we want to preserve the secret identities). If Ladybug is dealing with a world ending threat, have it do something that makes Adrien decide that Ladybug needs the ring more than him and let him try to talk Gabriel down. The heart of their conflict is in the personal drama anyway rather than the magical fight.

Would this give everything we got from the finale? Some setups could, if you finagle things enough. But sometimes you just need to kill your darlings, and mlb is a show with a lot of darlings that need to be assassinated.

That being said, there is actually a set up where you can get all the same outcomes of the finale AND have Adrien there confronting his father.

Just have Adrien be akumatized.

Do it in a situation where Gabriel doesn't know he's Chat Noir and so he manages to slip the ring off his finger and give it to Plagg before he's taken over, and you have a convenient reason for why Adrien wouldn't remember anything about the encounter. It would also allow him to explore the more repressed emotions about Gabriel.

Have him taken out in the middle of the finale to allow Marinette some solo screentime (as mentioned before) and you're set.

Writers are the gods of the story. They can arrange circumstances and invent whatever reasons are needed to tell the story they want. That I could come up with three different set ups that could work tells me those professional writers either didn't have the skill to pull off the story they told (in which case I have to question why they're being paid to do this job), or they simply didn't want to write the story they had set up and chose to ignore it in favor of the cool moments they did want to write.

Honestly I think my take on the "Chat Noir was not there in the final battle" comes down to the fact that I kind of just don't think a satisfying final battle between Chat Noir and Monarch was actually possible.

I read a lot of fic, for example, and I've read the scenario play out a lot of times in a ton of ways and I've never been fully convinced of it tbh (and not because they weren't great fic!!). It seems just completely traumatic for Adrien in a way that the scenario inherently cannot properly focus on, because it's all happening in the middle of an action scene and Adrien is too busy being Mid-Battle to properly have a cathartic breakdown about it all. I mean, Chat Blanc already showed us what would happen if he did have a breakdown mid-battle (and why wouldn't he?). And though it'd be fun to have a big triumphant moment of him defeating his abusive father, Adrien simply isn't a character who would find that scenario triumphant, or cathartic, or anything other than viscerally traumatic.

Also, I agree that it's unfair that Chat Noir was not present— like it was unfairly tilted in Ladybug's favor— but I don't think it'd be fair if he was present, either. Because Marinette is, in fact, the main character. The main character whose character arc is primarily focused on her finding her footing as a hero and discovering all the responsibilities that come with that power (as opposed to Adrien, whose character arc is moreso about freedom and identity). And let's face it, in a fight between Ladybug and Chat Noir and Monarch, nobody would be focused on Ladybug at all. It's not about her. It's not her fight. She'd just be there as moral support and an extra set of hands, which really doesn't work for her character arc at all and is completely unfair to her!

Basically, it would just be Chat Noir temporarily acting as the main character and having the worst time of his life in the most un-cathartic battle for him possible left completely traumatized with Ladybug in the background awkwardly trying to comfort him after the fact? And then the season ends? And then the next season presumably goes back to Ladybug being the main character? After a time-skip to the new school year? It's just an ending that I feel like is a lot better in theory than actually on paper. And you can probably make an argument for ways that it could be made to work, where it would enhance Ladybug's story in a meaningful way where she still feels like the main character, and would somehow be triumphant for Chat Noir despite it probably being the worst moment of his life, and somehow not make the rest of the series following feel like bonus content as opposed to a continuation of the story...... but, I dunno. I think it's a lot easier said than done.

The fact of the matter is, I've always been waaayyyy more interested in how the aftermath of Gabriel's defeat affects Adrien than the battle itself. Post-Hawkmoth defeat is one of my favorite types of fic for a reason, and it's because the aftermath can be so juicy, especially for Adrien as a character. I think whether or not Adrien is actually there in the battle itself has always been kind of irrelevant to me, because no matter how Gabriel is defeated, his defeat will have immense repercussions on Adrien's life going forward. And the way they did it, Marinette is now a part of it in a more active way, too. Which is good for her character!

( Also, if he was there to triumphantly defeat Gabriel, would that mean he would just.... watch his father die? of cataclysm? a-and.... nathalie would just.... die, too? so he'd have three dead parents after all that? who he watched all die (or, in emilie's case, saw her corpse)? or is this a scenario where MONARCH BEATS CHAT NOIR and still makes the wish? is that cathartic? for Adrien to lose to Gabriel? Frankly, I loved seeing Gimmi and The Wish, it's been teased for so long that I was expecting it, and I loved the fact that Nathalie got to live as her narrative reward for coming to her senses and trying to murder Gabriel with a crossbow. I like that we got to watch a full season of Gabriel painfully dying to a cataclysm— poetically inflicted on him by Adrien, but of Gabriel's own doing. I like that Nathalie has presumably adopted Adrien after having an arc of her trying to be a parent to him once she realized nobody else would, that's so much more interesting than any other alternative. I just don't see how all of these things, some of my favorite things that season 5 gave, can still all exist at once with Chat Noir present in the final battle in any way that's satisfying. )

[cheol-e-kat]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐟𝐭 𝐤.𝐦𝐠

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

semi-side-pairing: reader and seungcheol have an on-and-off friends with benefits relationship that has ended

summary: you’ve known mingyu since college, and after he stood you up in second year, you’ve never gotten along - good thing you’re stuck sharing a room at a destination wedding party.

And when you do try to get away from one another - too bad that you both decide to go on a long hike, get rained on, and stuck in yet another room with only one bed.

genre: only one bed, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, mentioned fake dating, second chance, slow burn, yes - everyone is an attorney - sorry

word count: 11.5k

if you want to read this broken into chapters, here it is on ao3

warnings: explicit language, mentioned smut (not described in detail), foreplay, mentioned drinking , mentioned therapy

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

“Seriously, why did they decide this was a destination-level thing,” you complained to Seungcheol from the passenger’s seat. 

You were driving to a B&B like seven hours from the city because your friends were hosting a weekend for the wedding party. It was meant to be nothing but rest and relaxation. And like two very normal people with very normal schedules that didn’t at all prevent a social life, you’d agreed to be Seungcheol’s fake date for the weekend and probably for the wedding too. 

“Because they think it’s cute and a nice way to thank their friends for showing up to all this wedding shit,” he mumbled. 

You laughed, knowing he would rather be in his apartment rewatching some sad movie and texting a certain someone than driving to the mountains for the one weekend he’d requested off in four months. 

And you - you would be happier doing literally anything. Because for you, there was one major problem with the weekend. The wedding party included one person you had carefully cut out of your life since college and law school. And this weekend meant you couldn’t avoid him. 

You chewed your lip lightly, staring out the window. “You know we have that filing deadline, right?”

“I’m not working this weekend,” he said it like he was manifesting the end times, “I’m playing golf with people who couldn’t care less about what firm I’m at, and I’m drinking whatever I want, and I don’t care that we’re sharing a room because we’ve both seen each other naked enough times that to be honest you’re like the furniture to me, so I have no impediments, just me and golf and liquor that isn’t clear,” he said it so seriously. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, come next week, I should expect to see you looking very hung over and miserable during mediation?”

He nodded. “Fuck yes, you should,” he said with a grin. 

You hummed in response. “Definitely on that partner track, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up - at least I’m not trying to hide behind work because I can’t get along with others,” he shot back. 

You stared with wide eyes, “Oh, don’t even start that!” You snapped. 

He was still grinning. “You know it’s true - you can’t play nice with Mingyu, and”—

You cut him off. “No, no, excuse me - I can’t get along, me? no - he can’t get the fuck over some shit from like Freshman year, that’s not my problem,” you said adamantly. 

Seungcheol nodded. “Umhm, right, we both know it was sophomore year, and you’ve never escalated whatever it is in any way, like I don’t know, throwing a drink in his face?” He asked, still grinning like a fucking idiot. 

“You’re such a bitch - don’t bring that up,” you said, swatting his arm. “The whole point of us coming together is no one asks either of us about our personal lives, you know - as in you don’t have to explain that clerk for the district court you keep happening to see every Saturday…” you trailed off suggestively. 

He pursed his lips. “Fine, I won’t say anything about Mingyu, and you don’t mention him.”

You laughed. “You should have just marked plus one, I don’t think anyone cares,” you said, genuinely meaning it. 

Like all of his friends, you just wanted Seungcheol to be happy. Besides, Jeonghan was the only person you’d ever seen Seungcheol truly lose his mind over. They were insanely cute together. 

And you hadn’t spent any amount of time helping Seungcheol with his texting game - he literally ran almost every message by you for a month. If he were anyone else, you would have pushed him out a window. But he wasn’t, so you had helped.

He sighed. “Are you really going to work?”

You shrugged. “It’s a good, plausible excuse. Besides, the only thing I’m really into are the massages anyway. So, that leaves what, 70 hours of free time that could be billable?” You asked with a snort. 

“Fuck, you actually are thinking about the partnership shit, aren’t you?” He asked, glancing over. 

You gave a shrug. You hadn’t been, but then you won a few pitches, and the cases had blown up. Now all the talks felt a lot more serious. “Maybe,” you said with a groan. 

You were quiet for a moment. “So is Mingyu bringing someone?” 

Seungcheol snorted. “Seriously, why couldn’t you wait until after we were there to ask?”

You stared at him. “What? Why?”

“Because now I owe Jeonghan dinner and the satisfaction of knowing he maybe knows my friend better than I do, apparently.” 

You laughed. “Oh my god, you should just start planning where you two are registering now.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “If I say stuff like that - I can’t say stuff like that, we’ve barely dated,” he mumbled. 

You shook your head. “So silly, just buy him flowers and an insane ring and ask him to be Kkuma’s other dad,” you said with a smile. 

You did actually mean it. Even if you had a history with Seungcheol, something you’d made him promise to tell his new beau about in full. 

You’d been friends with benefits at various times and were even fairly intense about one another a few times. 

But now, you were just friends. 

You had known that just by the way Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan, anyone with eyes would know that literally no one else could mean as much to Seungcheol. No one else stood a chance. 

He shook his head. “Just, please don’t throw drinks or make a scene,” he mumbled. 

You sighed. “I promise to avoid him, okay, just like I have been for like two years,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stared out the window. 

Seungcheol made a humming sound from the driver’s seat like he didn’t exactly believe you.

No matter, it was the only plan you had. And even if it meant skipping things that weekend, you really didn’t care. Because things between you and Mingyu had a tendency to escalate really quickly. You couldn’t even play beer pong with him. 

That was what Cheol was on about - the fact that what should have been a totally friendly match where you and Mingyu had been paired together had become so acrimonious that you had, in fact, thrown a pitcher of beer in his face before it ended.

Seungcheol was being nice by implying it was semi-normal and only a cup - it wasn’t a cup. It was an entire pitcher. And unlike Mingyu, you had great aim, even when you were drunk as fuck. And you could still remember the absolutely shocked look on his face, too. 

There were very real reasons you had avoided him for so long. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

“Is she really coming?” He’d asked Seungcheol when they met for lunch the week before. 

Seungcheol had rolled his eyes. “Does it matter?”

Mingyu had poked his salad and sighed. “Does she still hate me?” He tried again, thinking about how you had seemed, maybe, a bit softer around him lately. 

Mingyu was very aware of the fact that his friends were also your friends. He knew that whenever there was some Saturday when they were all busy, they were busy hanging out, he just wasn’t invited, and hadn’t been in a long time. 

But on the flip side, there were all the times they hung out with him and not with you. That was cold comfort, though, because he kind of hated the way you’d managed to cut him out of your life so easily. 

Seungcheol let out a long sigh. “Dude, are you seriously asking me about y/n? We aren’t in college anymore - if you want to talk to her, then just do it,” Seungcheol said as he stabbed pasta onto his fork. 

Mingyu swallowed hard. “I’m only asking if I should even bother, like you two are close,” he mumbled. He fully knew just how close you and Seungcheol were, too. He’d always been jealous because everything seemed so easy between you two - so easy for Seungcheol to be close to you. 

But with Mingyu, you always seemed to be on your guard. Ready to go on the defensive at the drop of a fucking feather. 

Seungcheol sighed. “It’s our friends’ wedding thing - dude, what about that says ‘let me try to work out my personal issues with someone who knows exactly how to set me off’?” He was staring hard at Mingyu. 

“I’m not - it’s”—

Seungcheol cut him off. “Look, you know she avoids you, so maybe just respect that - to her, it solves whatever issues there are between you two, okay, and I don’t have some special insight. She doesn’t talk about you, not with me, not with anyone else we know, just drop it,” he finished. 

And Mingyu didn’t press the subject. Because after that, Seungcheol’s voice just replayed in his head, ‘she doesn’t talk about you.’ He’d said it so matter-of-factly, too - his voice pointed and sharp. 

Mingyu definitely wasn’t still thinking about it that Saturday morning. He’d decided to do what Seungcheol had said: he would stay away from you. 

He was answering emails in the car on the way. Joshua and Seokmin kept telling him that he needed to unplug. 

“Seriously, Seungcheol said y/n is basically working the whole time - there can’t be two of you being completely dull,” Joshua declared. 

Mingyu sighed, “I’m trying to answer them all now, so I can shut down for the weekend,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“Good! Now, if Seungcheol can just work his magic on y/n, we can actually have a good weekend.” Seokmin added. 

Joshua laughed. “Only if a ‘good weekend’ includes seeing Mingyu and Y/n get into a bitch fight,” he said with a smirk as he glanced in the rearview window, catching Mingyu’s eye.

Mingyu just shook his head, trying to focus. He didn’t want to think about the “beer incident,” and he definitely didn’t want to think about what magic Seungcheol could possibly work on you. He would never admit how much it annoyed him that you always came to events as a couple. 

Because it wasn’t just events with friends, it was work functions, too. Your firms worked together on a lot of cases, so it was three holiday parties at the very least where he got reminded of you and Seungcheol together. 

He hated that he couldn’t just be happy for either of you. But he couldn’t. To him, you should at least be with someone who was serious about you. And that had never been the case with Seungcheol. Not in Mingyu’s mind anyway. 

He chewed his lip and kept responding to emails and chats. He just needed to keep himself distracted. Or at least that was what he thought. 

But apparently, nothing was in his favor that day. 

The B&B had some issues with booking. That was thing number one. Somehow, Mingyu didn’t have a room. And there were no extra rooms because the entire place was booked fully. 

He was trying to figure out who would maybe share with him, which was not really working since most people had a roommate already, and the majority were couples, looking to do ‘couple’ things. 

He was still texting desperately when he saw you arrive with Seungcheol. He watched as you got out, and he saw Seungcheol help with your stuff, and then he watched Seungcheol leave, which was weird. 

Mingyu just stared. But then it popped in the group chat - Seungcheol was seeing someone, and whoever it was, was sick - he was headed back home. Mingyu stared at his phone for a full minute because, since when had Seungcheol started seeing someone who wasn’t you that seriously, he wondered. 

He saw you check in, get your room keys, give your bags to the bellhop, and head for the elevator. You barely glanced at him. 

But he was just desperate enough to do something really stupid. 

“Y/n,” he called out. 

You turned, looking shocked to see that it was just him there. 

He waved. “Uh, can we talk?”

He watched your brows shoot together questioningly - no, it was worse, you looked like you’d just stepped in something gross, at best. 

You started to give him the brush off - he knew that’s what was coming. 

“Please,” he tried to put as much pleading and begging into his voice as he could manage. 

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “Fine, but can we at least go to the cafe?” 

He nodded. 

You let the bellhop take your bags to drop off in your room and followed Mingyu into the cafe. He sat at a table while you ordered coffee or whatever. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table, feeling nervous, more than nervous - it was like all of his anxiety dreams rolled into one. Because this wasn’t supposed to be happening. It might be an improvement if he were suddenly somehow naked. He sighed, hating his stress dreams and this moment.

He wasn’t supposed to be talking to you, much less asking what he was about to ask. 

You sat down across from him with a sigh. “What’s wrong?” You asked, straight to the point. 

He was taken aback for a split second but recovered quickly. “I, uhh, I need to ask a favor,” he said with a sigh. 

You shrugged. “Okay, what?”

He chewed his lip lightly. “Um,” he stared at the table, knowing this was insane, “uh, the booking system is, I don’t know - look, could I stay in your room?” He was speaking too fast. Even he could hear the way he fumbled certain words. 

You were quiet, though. He glanced up to see you watching him like you were considering what he’d asked. “Let me guess, no one else has a couch or a floor they’re willing to give up?” You asked, voice frosty. 

He swallowed. “Do you think I would be asking otherwise?”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, sorry, of course, I’m the last person you would ever want to ask, what was I thinking,” you said it as though you hadn’t spent time purposefully ignoring his existence. 

He sighed. “You avoid me, so let’s not pretend I’ve set the tone.”

You scoffed. “Right. Sure, it’s nothing to do with you or anything you did.” You shook your head in annoyance, glancing away from him. 

You were both silent for a few awkward moments. But that wasn’t new. He wondered how he could have possibly thought anything had changed between you in the lst few months of working on the same nightmare case.

And then you went on. “Um, you know what, fine, you can share, but don’t bother me this weekend - don’t wake me up, don’t touch my stuff, don’t even look at me,” you said with a forced smile and got up. You tossed a key card to him and left. 

He stayed where he was. It was the least auspicious start to any weekend ever. He swallowed tightly, shaking his head. 

At least he had a room. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You walked into your room, staring around. For once really hating Seungcheol and his new ‘I’m in love’ whatever bullshit. 

You flopped on the bed with a groan. That wasn’t really true. You were glad for Seungcheol. You were glad he’d found someone he would drop everything for and rush off to take care of because they were sick. It was stupidly cute. 

You were just frustrated that somehow it left you as the only person with enough room to share with Mingyu. And you had to, didn’t you? Because if you didn’t, you’d be the asshole. 

You tried to think of all the stupid things advertised as local attractions. There was some really long hike. You could do that - be off the grid, out of the hotel, and away from Mingyu. Just a pleasant 28-mile hike that had weirdly caught your eye as maybe an option for how to spend the trip. 

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing because you had planned for worse than this - you had all the shit to go on this dumb hike. You let out a deep breath and turned onto your side. 

You stayed that way until you heard a soft knock on the door. You’d no idea how much time had passed. 

You didn’t answer it. He had a fucking key card. And maybe if you just pretended to be dead or something, he would work around you. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to look asleep. You couldn’t care less if it were believable or not. You promised not to make any scenes. And this was the best you could think of given the circumstances. 

You heard the door open and what you assumed were Mingyu’s footsteps. There was the sound of a bag dropping. A jacket being removed. 

You didn’t move. You tried not to breathe even. 

He walked around quietly. You could guess he was looking for some option besides the bed. But you’d already looked. 

The sofa was too small for you, much less him. The floors were hardwood. You almost laughed when he opened the balcony door and a gust of cool wind gusted in. 

You sighed. “I called down for more pillows,” you didn’t see him jump at the sound of your voice. “We can just make a barrier down the middle.”

He stared at you. And shook his head. “I can sleep on the couch.” It was a massive fucking lie, but he wasn’t in the mood to negotiate the amount of bed space he needed with you. 

You groaned and sat up. “Really?” You asked. 

He nodded. You looked like you were ready to laugh in his face. “Okay, just for fun, let’s pretend you aren’t as tall as you are, please, demonstrate,” you said, tossing him a pillow. 

He stared at you in disbelief. “Look, I’m just trying to do what you asked,” he said, squeezing the pillow lightly, trying to not be flustered. 

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “And we both know I was being massively unreasonable and kind of a twat downstairs, right?”

He kept his face neutral. Even if he agreed with everything you’d just said. 

You shrugged and continued, assuming he agreed. “So, given that, yeah, there aren’t any amazing options. But at least be realistic. You can’t fit on that sofa, I can’t fit on that sofa, therefore, we’re left with the option I initially outlined, so just agree and make this easy.”

He just nodded. “Okay, if you say so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just, look - if neither of us makes it weird, then it’s fine. There’s activities or whatever, and I have work, so we’ll barely see one another,” you said and flopped back onto the bed. 

He chewed his lip lightly. “Right,” he agreed. You’d barely see him, and you’d be happier for it.

There wasn’t anything official planned on the first night, and he still had work to finish. So he sat on one side of the bed while you sat on the other. You briefly talked with him to place an order with room service. 

When the extra pillows showed up, you made a very serious divider down the center of the bed. 

And everything about it annoyed him much more than he expected. He’d never really gotten how things had gotten to the point they had between you and him. You’d actually been friends to begin with. 

Good friends even. At least he thought so. And he liked you, still. Nothing seemed to quite extinguish that flame for some reason. No matter how shitty things seemed between you. 

But then something changed between you and him in a way he’d never been able to fix, exactly. And it was like you couldn’t stand him overnight. And the worst part was that you knew exactly how to make him irrationally angry in the span of maybe ten seconds. You knew just what to say to get under his skin, and you did, often. It wasn’t good for either of you. Because he knew what to say to you, too. And it only got worse from there. 

Your mutual friends had gone from thinking it was some crush thing to rarely inviting you both to things. You even stopped hanging out with them altogether for a few semesters. And he knew it was his fault, something he had done. 

He got ready for bed before food even arrived. He put in his headphones and started watching something on his phone. He glanced up once to see you still typing away. 

Dinner came and went. He was under the covers early. The bed was at least comfortable, and he was very clearly on his side of the pillow barrier when he passed out. 

The problem was when he woke up. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : fourth year in college - soccer team vs. cross country beer pong games]

Mingyu couldn’t believe he’d been partnered with you. It was all down to the bracket system they used - you were the best from the girl’s soccer team and he was the best from the guy’s team. 

It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t even want to stand next to you. You’d hated him for no good reason since second year. Because he had wanted to apologize, but you ignored him. 

That wasn’t his fault.

And no one ever seemed to know why, except maybe Seungcheol. He seemed to know absolutely everything about you. And he’d never say anything. 

Even if he just treated your relationship like some hookup bullshit. You were always up each other’s asses. 

You walked over with a pitcher of beer to set up cups for the side. You glanced at him. “You okay?” You asked. 

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled. He knew you didn’t actually care how he was. 

You set the cups up and left to get your own drink. You never played while drinking beer. You always had a mixed drink. But you had insane aim no matter what you were drinking. He tried to think about the fact that, playing with you, you two would definitely win. The other side was shit. 

But he couldn’t stay positive about it. You bothered him. You had bothered him for a long time now. The way you always seemed to duck past him or swerve around him. You dodged texts and invites. You treated him like he was invisible. 

And to him, it was totally unwarranted. Like one fucked up text chain, and you acted like he vanished off the face of the planet. You went scorched earth over what was basically a mistake on his part. 

You were so calm about it, too - one thing happened, and suddenly you just removed him from your life like he’d never mattered. 

That was the part he hated and rarely admitted. That was the part that hurt. 

He’d never even gotten to apologize. 

Instead, it just went from bad to worse to very ugly between you two. 

The game opened, and you went first, sinking a shot in one of the opposing side’s back cups. He watched you grin, not at him, not at your fucking teammate, but you immediately looked to Seungcheol who was next to you. 

“Nice, babe,” Seungcheol said as you grinned at him, barely out of his grasp for even a moment. 

Mingyu rolled his eyes and took his turn when it came. He took out some of their closer cups. The cross-country team was behind even in the first round. 

And every time he glanced over to see you waiting around by sitting in Seungcheol’s lap on the side, he couldn’t help the gross feeling in his gut. The two of you together were disgusting. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another. And it wasn’t just him who thought it was too much. 

Besides, who didn’t just ask someone out. He asked people out. 

But he was also normal. 

You were next to him, getting ready to throw when he said it. “He’ll never fucking date you, you know? You’re not his type,” he whispered. 

You glanced at him and shook your head as you threw the ping pong ball. “Yeah, well, I don’t think what he and I do is any of your fucking business, so just shut up and play through.” You left him standing alone for his turn. 

He pursed his lips and missed for the first time that night. 

It kept going like that, you making every shot while he missed almost every one of his. He wasn’t focused on the game. 

It’s when he called you something like “easy” and a “bitch” that you snapped. He didn’t even see it coming; he just felt the sudden rush of cold beer flowing down his face, into his eyes, soaking his hair, rushing down the collar of his shirt and back, soaking through the fabric. 

And then you threw your actual drink in his face. “You’ve always been a whiny bitch, and I thought we could get passed that for a moment, but yeah, stay the fuck away from me,” you’d said it with this crystal clear rage that cut through every other noise in the room. 

Everyone had looked at him. And then they’d started to whisper. He’d shaken his head and shrugged. “We forfeit, I guess.”

He glanced at Seungcheol just to realize he looked as surprised as Mingyu felt. But unlike Mingyu, Seungcheol could actually go after you. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

Mingyu woke up completely wrapped around you. Apparently, pillow barriers meant absolutely nothing to either of you because you were just as tangled with him as he was with you. 

He had no idea what to do. 

He could feel your breath against his skin. You were flush against him - your legs twined with his. If he knew you didn’t virtually hate him, he would have been happy to wake up with you like this. Instead of waking up feeling nothing but guilty, like he was stealing something. 

He moved, not a lot, just enough for you to turn in your sleep. He was careful when he rolled back to his side and when he put the pillows mostly back into place. He felt like you wouldn’t want to know that it had even happened. 

Besides, he needed to get up anyway. 

The only thing he really wanted to try at this point was the hiking trail that led to this little lodge place. The lodge was the head of a huge trail that took like months to do. He just wanted to do the lead-up trail, plus if he stayed at the lodge, then he wouldn’t be killing your mood. 

He had no idea that you’d definitely woken up before him in a similar panic at the way you and he had demolished the pillow barrier during sleep. Not to mention the embarrassing way you were pressed against him. 

He also had no idea that you sat up to get dressed for the exact same hike the moment he closed the door. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[rewind : second year in college - being stood up]

You and Mingyu were definitely friends, even if he caused some issues on the girl’s soccer team. 

You were the team captain. And it did annoy you that he had dated like half the team by your second year. Especially since he had a habit of deciding to dump one girl by being caught with another girl. 

You’d gotten a split lip breaking up one particularly nasty fight. 

You’d complained to Seungcheol about it, and he’d shrugged. “What do I do? I’m not his parent or something,” he said. 

“You could talk to him, tell him to stop being such an asshole,” you suggested. 

He sighed. “Look, I did kind of say something, and he’s, I don’t know, he wants attention,” he said cryptically with a glance at you. 

You groaned. “For fucks sake, I just need him to stop fucking girls on my team - move on to a sorority or something - they’re probably equipped for that anyway,” you sighed and glanced at Seungcheol. He was still staring at you like there was some deeper meaning to something he’d said. 

You shrugged, feeling defeated. “Thanks for trying, I guess.” You rolled your eyes and left, giving up. If Seungcheol couldn’t talk some sense into him, you really had no hope. It was way too awkward for you to bring up. 

Friends or not, there wasn’t a good way to ask him to keep his dick to himself. 

You’d left the caf and headed for the library. But on your way you’d gotten a text that was questionable at best. 

You were still staring at it when you walked to the third-floor quiet area to study. 

[mingyu]

heyyy […]

want to go out friday? 

Since when did Mingyu say ‘hey’ with extra letters, you wondered. Or ask you to hang out for that matter. You didn’t ask one another to hang out - you just saw each other at things that led to hanging out. 

And you didn’t really text exactly either. You chatted through Discord because you both gamed. That was almost always how you talked to one another. 

You stared at the message. It was weird. 

[y/n]

u ok

[mingyu]

yea ofc […]

just yk was thinking about you […]

maybe we could hang out more officially 

You rolled your eyes and left him on read. It was too weird. You cracked your textbook and decided that if he messaged again, you might respond. But you also might just screenshot it and pop it into your normal chat because maybe someone had his phone. 

You made it through most of your calc problem set before checking back. 

[mingyu]

srsly tho jel […]

hang out with me friday […]

pls

‘Jel’ was your gaming name, your gaming nickname to be more precise. The one only he used, especially when he was beating you at something and being a dick about it. Cute and dickish - that’s when he would call you ‘Jel’. 

He never called you ‘jealousmallow94’. Just like you never called him ‘gummygyu’, even if it was kind of cute. 

[y/n]

ur srsly asking 

[mingyu]

yea using the actual messages app and everything

[y/n]

who else is going 

[mingyu]

no one […]

just us

You stared harder, looking for the catch. Last you checked, Friday night, generally, was a standing party night. Plus, you felt like it was someone’s birthday weekend, too, aka, a weekend not to be missed.

You chewed your lip lightly. You’d literally just been asking Seungcheol to help rein Mingyu in, and now Mingyu was asking you out - this was too weird. You snapped screenshots and sent them to Seungcheol, asking what the texts were about, and went back to your problem set. 

[cheol]

told u […]

he wants attention

[y/n]

this isn’t attention seeking […]

it’s totally weird

[cheol]

that he has a crush on you ??

[y/n]

waHt?? […]

no he doesn’t

[cheol]

yea he does […]

i didn’t want to tell you bcz not my place yk

[y/n]

fuck off

[cheol]

he does […]

he has since like idk since he met u […]

or idk whenever u used to run wth him on the weekends […]

down bad since then ig

[y/n]

sounds fake

[cheol]

so tell him to fuck off […]

maybe he’ll get over the girl’s team then

[y/n]

wtf about fucking around with half the team would make me think anything good about him

[cheol]

and i quote “word of mouth” […]

said by two dumbasses […]

apparently taken to heart by a third dumb ass

[y/n]

srsly having a dick lowers your iq or smth

[cheol]

thanks […]

btw not proper use of iq […]

wait srry don’t u steal my notes :3

[y/n]

yeah bby ur typing is immaculate […]

even monkeys can type tho 

You flicked back to the messages from Mingyu, staring at them and wondering if they were real. If he was being real. 

You didn’t answer until later that night. You said ‘yes.’ And you agreed on a time and a movie to see. 

But something about it felt off - you couldn’t ever put a finger on it, though. It just didn’t sit right with you. Maybe if it had been last year, but to ask now was strange.

So when Friday night rolled around, you spent some time getting ready, but not too much time. You picked baggy jeans and a cardigan. You were still going to see a movie with a friend, basically. You weren’t going all out. 

You didn’t exactly think of it as a date. More like a pre-date. It was a chance to test the waters. But for some reason, you still half expected that he wouldn’t show. 

You sat in your dorm’s living room, playing a game on your phone. You wanted to be distracted from looking at the clock, from the weird nervous tension in your stomach, everything really. 

You didn’t really like Mingyu, you told yourself repeatedly. 

You thought he was cute, but that was it. 

It wasn’t serious. 

And you weren’t going on a date with him. 

None of that was real, you reassured yourself. 

What was very real was the suck ass team you’d gotten dropped into a mobile game of call of duty with and the way they were all so bad. Your score in the ranked match results was ridiculously high. 

You locked in for another match. You were focused now. You hopped from match to match. 

You hadn’t forgotten the time. Not really. 

And you hadn’t forgotten that Mingyu was supposed to come by. 

Or that you were supposed to go together. 

You hadn’t forgotten a single thing. 

It was more that every minute past the time you were supposed to meet was annoying and then just sad in a way that made you switch to only playing in ‘free for all’ matches where you kept winning by killing every other player half a dozen times. 

When you finally logged out well after midnight - you didn’t cry. You didn’t message Seungcheol. 

You just changed your gaming name and blocked Mingyu’s accounts on every platform, including his contact information from your phone. 

He was dead to you. 

And then you took a quick shower and went to bed with a show playing on your laptop. 

And you didn’t talk to him after that unless you absolutely had to. It helped that he avoided you for a few days. You had no clue if he messaged you, or called, or anything. 

And whatever, because he did move on to sorority girls. 

Apparently, he didn’t have a crush on you - he just wanted to make you feel like shit. Just like he’d made every other girl on your team feel. 

And the next semester, you and Seungcheol become a much more regular thing. Until you took a break because you met someone else. 

And then you took a break from the whole friend group. You needed it. Things were feeling too complicated. And someone new was a breath of fresh air. 

Besides, dance majors really knew how to fuck. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t realize how much he fucked up until the next day when he saw that he made a date with you, and he slightly imploded. 

He read through the messages he’d sent while drunk. He regretted them completely, not because he didn’t mean what he’d said, but because it was you that he’d asked in such a stupid way.

He’d been just confident enough to ask you out, though. And you’d literally asked if he was ‘okay’ - he should have stopped there and then. 

But he hadn’t, even though this was exactly the reason he never even tried approaching you the way he really wanted to. How could he when he knew you didn’t take him seriously - not in that way, at least. 

He was just someone to game with. And he knew it.

But somehow it was real. 

He’d asked you, and after some convincing, you’d said ‘yes.’ He didn’t know what to do with that. He tried to think of how to make it feel like something remotely special and not just another night hanging out with him. He thought about what to wear and how he would pay for things. And then he thought about screaming into his pillow because what the fuck had he been thinking to ask you out?

He sighed, knowing he would fuck it up. He’d say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. 

You always brought out his nervous side. The only time he was normal with you was when you gamed together. Somehow, talking to you through a headset was completely fine, but in person, he was not great beyond joking around at parties. He wished he knew how to talk to you.

Because, really, even gaming with you had been a fluke. You’d been looking bored at a party, and he happened to see that you were just hanging out gaming on your phone while everything happened around you. 

He’d asked what you played and for your username. You’d given it and told him that it was “the same for mobile and systems.” He’d thought it was maybe the hottest thing a girl had ever said to him. 

And it became like a ritual to play with you. 

He knew your class schedule because you almost always pinged him to play when you were finished for the day. He knew roughly when you studied, and practiced, and everything, really. You pinged him during parties, even. 

And if the party was at the house, the house that most of the soccer players shared, and you were early, you would usually pregame and play on console with him in his room, your knee bumping against his while you both tried to squeeze into his tiny ass room. 

He was insanely glad for his PlayStation and Xbox. He was less glad for the various comments he got from his friends, like when was he finally going to ask you out. That was the biggest question. The times that you had fallen asleep in his room didn’t help. 

Or when you started meeting him for early morning runs - the way you’d sometimes come back to his room and pass out with him before class, all your sweaty limbs finding their way to his - it was always then that he thought about kissing you, soft then hard, and how good it would feel to undress one another and how good the sweat would be then and the cool spray of the shower after. 

You were pure fantasy to him, warm and sweet next to him, sleeping soundly because apparently you never really slept well. 

He groaned because he knew he would fuck it up. He liked how things were, and he probably couldn’t exactly say that either without it sounding shitty. Telling you he wanted to cancel because ‘things are good’ - he rolled his eyes at himself. He’d fallen back on his bed, unhappiness setting in.

And then he had fucked it up - beyond anything even he expected. 

He’d thought playing beer pong would calm him down the day of. They were playing with shots, though, not beer. He’d passed out before you were even supposed to meet. 

By the time he came to the next day, you were gone from everything. He couldn’t even find your username to send a request in-game. And talking to you was already not something he was great at. 

It didn’t stop the way he felt or how much he wanted you. It just felt like a bruise that he kept hitting against things. Every time he saw you and Seungcheol, it ached somewhere deep inside him because it was like you’d just replaced him with someone else. 

And whenever you did talk to him, it somehow always got really out of hand. He didn’t just say the wrong things - he said things that made everything so much worse. It was like his brain had short-circuited to the point that he could only say things that made you hate him. 

Seungcheol had once told him to stop being so “obtuse” - that a phone wasn’t the way to talk to you at this point. And something about Mingyu getting his head out of his ass if he ever wanted another shot with you. 

It had been obnoxious to hear that from Seungcheol - him telling Mingyu how he should approach you was so fucking absurd, given whatever you had with Seungcheol was going on, and neither of you were especially private about it. 

But then came graduation, and even in law school, when things could have calmed down, they hadn’t. 

Instead, you and he were just painfully competitive, fighting it out for every grade as 1Ls. You’d accepted an internship with a different firm for the fall. But that didn’t stop anything because there was still the law review and who would be published first (you - he knew without looking that your topic was more interesting), and who would be editor (him - fuck you for getting Seungcheol to co-author an article with you), and mock trial, and everything ever.

He was always around you, in your orbit, but never allowed to get close. 

It was the most hopeless situation. 

He hated the way he never saw you. Never a message. Nothing. He didn’t even randomly get to see you around. He hated it, but the longer it went on, the more he felt like he’d lost any chance. 

At least until he decided to go hiking.

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 ]

You weren’t fully sure what compelled you to bring your hiking gear other than planning for the worst-case scenario, but you had. 

And now you were glad for it because if you hiked to the trail head, it was a solid 14 miles away from Kim Mingyu and whatever the fuck he was doing. And another 14 miles back.

You rushed to get ready because you needed to get out of the room before you suffocated. You needed to forget how warm he felt - how good he felt and how you’d missed that feeling, apparently - and all the memories it caused to come flooding back. 

You cleaned your teeth, threw your hair in a ponytail, and slapped on sunscreen. You were on a huge mission to force all those messy college memories back into their little compartments in your brain. 

You did not have time to sort through them. 

Mingyu had stood you up and never even apologized. So fuck him. 

The end. Fin. Roll fucking credits. 

You grabbed a quick breakfast sandwich, several waters, and a ‘trail’ lunch - whatever the fuck that was - and you were off. 

You barely listened when the person at the counter mentioned that another person from your group had left maybe an hour earlier. In your mind, they had to have meant another guest because there wasn’t anyone in your group you could imagine heading out at like 6:00 AM to start a hike. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was maybe at the halfway point when he paused for a break. He wasn’t gasping or anything, but he wanted to enjoy the feeling of the trail and the forest surrounding him. 

He wasn’t just in the woods. He was genuinely alone, the trees swaying gently with a soft breeze. When he looked up, he could barely see the sky for the treetops. 

He sat on a rock just off the edge of the trail and sipped his water, trying to think about just the moment he was in. He didn’t want his mind to wander to work or you. He just wanted to breathe and soak in the surroundings.

He’d passed by another hiker in the last mile. So he assumed the sounds he heard were that person catching up with him. 

Instead, he saw you coming along, taking massive strides and staring around at the flora and fauna. 

He panicked because fuck - fuck - why - why couldn’t you be back in the hotel room sleeping or working or anything but heading directly for him.

He slid off the rock and tried to move farther off the trail. Actually, he tried to hide behind the rock, wondering to himself if he was maybe cursed.

“Mingyu?” You called in a voice that was questioning the situation, and also maybe his sanity, too, since he was hunkered down behind a rock like an idiot.

He grimaced, wondering why he hadn’t just committed to lying on the ground and covering himself in leaves to hide.

“Hey,” he called out with a sigh. He’d been caught, and there was nothing to do.

He waited for you to get closer. 

He sighed, wondering if he could run, maybe. It would have been totally blind and really dumb, but in the moment, the potential of sliding off the edge of the trail and down the mountainside seemed almost preferable. 

You paused, hands on your hips, to look around - probably the same way that he had been marvelling in the quiet. He watched you for a moment before glancing away. 

“It’s amazing, right?” You asked, voice soft with reverence. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding dispondent. It certainly wasn’t the question he expected from you. 

You glanced at him with a skeptical look. “‘Yeah’? That’s it?” You asked with a small laugh. 

He shrugged. “I was trying to focus on it - you know, not think about my problems…” he trailed off.

“Oh, is that your oblique way of referring to me - I’m one of your ‘problems’?” You asked teasingly.

He couldn’t remember the last time you’d talked to him that way - the last time you had been actively joking with him. Instead of the toneless responses he’d become used to. 

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he answered, feeling a warmth in his cheeks as he admitted it.

You sighed and kicked at the ground. “Want me to walk ahead then? Leave you to not think and all that?” You asked, voice gentle.

He was on the verge of saying ‘yes’, but then he saw a couple of younger guys passing. They were moving at a faster pace, but it didn’t stop either of them from glancing a beat too long at you. 

Mingyu had the urge to grab your arm and pull you closer. His mom would be pissed to know he let anyone he knew go walking off alone on a mountain top. Especially a girl alone in the woods, where literally no one would hear anything happen to her. 

Between his mom’s voice and every scene from a horror movie that flicked through his head, he couldn’t not hike with you. He had no doubt you would be a final girl if you had to be, but still.

He shook his head. “No, just hang back - it’s really nice to just sit here for a moment,” he said, still watching to make sure that the guys kept walking.

You came to stand next to him. “I do have mace, you know?” You asked, seeming to have read his mind.

He glanced at you. “Of course you do,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I like being prepared.” You mumbled with a smile.

He shook his head. “Yeah, but there are two of them, and one of you, and this isn’t a marked trail, so maybe we should stick together?” He suggested, stealing a quick glance at you.

You nodded, though. “Probably smart,” you murmured. 

You sat on the rock with him for a while, taking photos of the trees and basking in the soft sounds of the forest. You and he were both fairly quiet, which seemed right for the moment, at least to Mingyu. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You sat staring up into the trees, wondering if this was just the universe’s fucked in the head plan to put you and Mingyu together until you snapped or fucked. Some twisted cosmic gameshow, you thought. 

Glancing at him, you almost hoped it was the latter option.

But you could always settle for snapping, especially when you felt the first drop of rain hit your cheek. You blinked slowly as you wiped it away. 

And then the drops started to come more consistently. You glanced at Mingyu. “Seriously?” You asked.

“It’s not like I did it,” he whispered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

You shook your head, hearing the snapiness in his voice that you had become accustomed to - it hadn’t always been like that between you and him. But maybe he was so used to you sounding exasperated with him that it didn’t leave room for much else. Maybe he was just as tired of your attitude as you were. 

You sighed. “I know - I didn’t mean it that way,” you mumbled, pulling a jacket from your pack. You had prepared for this hike more than you wanted to admit - it had been your exit strategy once you knew Mingyu was on the guest list. 

Seungcheol had been a bit too into reconciliations lately, dropping little, not-so-subtle hints. You assumed it was just him being in his lovey-dovey, heart-eyed state because of Jeonghan. 

So you had planned this as your getaway because he wouldn’t be paying attention while he was golfing, and if your best friend got a little too annoying, you could just wander off into the wilderness.

You glanced at Mingyu questioningly as you pulled on your jacket. “Where’s yours?” You asked, actually concerned. 

He shrugged. “This wasn’t exactly on my dance card,” he said plainly. 

You pursed your lips, digging through your bag for the spare poncho you had because ‘just in case’ was basically your motto. You tossed it to him. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, almost looking surprised at the kindness. But it was exactly the first time you had done something lately that suggested maybe things between you and him were finally thawing. 

Like during the last set of depositions, when you knew he couldn’t leave to get lunch, you’d brought him something. And maybe it was something you knew he liked too - it wasn’t a big deal that you knew what he liked to eat when he was stressed. 

Or when it was obvious he was dealing with the asshole partner from his firm and all that came with that, you’d passed him some questions you’d been saving for your cross - he looked too rattled and sleep deprived to come up with his own. He’d been surprised by the gesture, but you’d shrugged and chalked it up to ‘we’re on the same side.’

In all fairness, the poncho was utilitarian, not cute, and definitely not stylish. Therefore, distinctly not ‘Mingyu.’ You had to help adjust it. 

“Stop moving,” you whined, trying to fix it in the back so it fit under his bag the right way.  

“I’m not moving,” he complained. 

The result was him looking sort of cute despite the nature of the poncho. 

The rest of the hike was an absolute slog. 

You were both wearing shorts - your legs, at least, were freezing. And your toes were starting to feel a bit chilled from walking through so many puddles. Even if your boots were waterproof, the water was still cold and wasn’t drying. 

You didn’t even ask Mingyu if he was miserable. All you had to do was glance back at him. He looked like he regretted his entire life. Even when you were only a mile out from the little camp-whatever-thing, there was no smile from him when you announced how close you both were to shelter. 

You were stuck with the grim edition of Kim Mingyu. It was the rarest edition, though, and that was something. It took a lot to see misery take over his naturally optimistic disposition. 

You sighed quietly and stopped to wait for him - you didn’t want to get too far ahead. “Are you like dying?” You asked and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him along, tired of the distance. 

“Yes,” he whined, “this is fucking miserable,” he grumbled.

You groaned. “Yeah, well, what did they tell us fifty thousand times? ‘Get comfortable being uncomfortable.’” You said it in an obnoxious sing-song way that made even you hate you.  

Luckily, you had booked a room large enough for two people because you always did. You always picked the rooms with more space because who wouldn’t - it was so obvious, at least to you. 

You checked in and got your key. When you glanced back at Mingyu off to the side, soaked and pathetic, he really did look like the saddest puppy - he could almost be in an ASPCA commercial. 

You couldn’t help yourself and quickly snapped a photo of him before he could notice. 

You told yourself it was to send to Seungcheol later. Even as you hit the little ‘heart’ on the photo, so it would be easier to find in your camera roll. 

“Come on,” you said with a sigh, grabbing his sleeve again and leading him along towards yet another room with only one bed.

The irony was not lost on you. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu was exhausted and wet and cold. 

And you would not let him rest. 

He barely made it in the room before you were handing him a towel and gently shoving him back down the hall towards the showers. He was surprised when you walked into the same one as him, but he realized it was a unisex space. 

Still, you being naked one stall over from him, passing him soap and shampoo and conditioner like it was just any other day, was just the cherry on this fever dream sundae. 

Worse was getting back to the room with you just wrapped in a towel that was just big enough, and you telling him to close his eyes so you could change. 

He fell back onto the bed, assuming he was allowed to do that now. He could have fallen asleep, but you tossed clothes at him. 

He sat up, knowing they were his. “Did you go through my bag?” He looked at you questioningly. 

You just shrugged. “You’re like passed out, so I was trying to help,” you said it nonchalantly, like it was a pure fact. You had unquestionably dug through his bag.

But he was tired. He didn’t care. 

And he didn’t immediately move. You said something about going to get food, so he just waited until he heard the door open and close to finally get dressed. 

He put his towel over the back of one of the chairs in the room and grabbed yours off the floor, doing the same. 

He glanced around, deciding that it wasn’t the worst room. There was a bed, a small table, heater, aircon, mini-fridge, and a sink with a mirror. It was decent for a room that was sort of at the top of a mountain. 

He would have passed out, but you came back just in time with food and drinks. You had sandwiches and ramen somehow. No, he thought, it wasn’t ‘somehow’, it was probably that you’d brought it along because you planned for shit like this. He knew you - you always had a plan. 

And he was very grateful that you were sharing with him - again. 

“Where’s your phone?” You asked before you sat down.

He shrugged and pointed vaguely. You sighed, not your truly annoyed sigh, though. “I know you have movies and stuff downloaded,” you mumbled, already up and searching. 

You found it quickly and pulled over one of the chairs. You flashed the phone quickly in front of his face to unlock it. He didn’t even flinch. Why would he? It was just you and your need for some level of entertainment while you ate. 

He was even more grateful when all the food was gone, and you were both lying on the bed, no pillow barrier this time. Instead, there wasn’t even the pretence of extra space - there was literally just enough room for both of you on the bed. 

You were lying next to him, your back pressed flush against his chest and stomach, your head on his arm, while he had the pillow. The blanket was shared, although he imagined it would end up with you. 

He still didn’t care. 

He could finally fall asleep listening to your breathing - the thing he hadn’t been able to do in years. He didn’t like thinking of all the random naps you had taken with him during first year. How perfectly you fit next to him after morning practices - that was buried deep somewhere in his psyche. Not even his therapist could touch those memories.

Neither of you said anything as you fell asleep together. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

You woke up slowly, feeling warm first, and then noticing a familiar arm around your waist. You blinked a few times, remembering that Seungcheol had gone home. 

You also never slept this well with Seungcheol. Or anyone, actually, just Mingyu. 

That was one of those thoughts you really tried to stamp out in a million different ways. It was part of why you’d started seeing Seungcheol on and off. 

Cheol was nice to sleep with, and kept some of your worst intrusive thoughts at bay. But he got annoyed with you when you just could not settle, when your foot kept wiggling under the blankets. You’d forgotten about that - those times when he would huff at you, and you would remember it wasn’t that serious and leave to go home.

And you would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, counting little dots. You hated admitting that there was something about Mingyu. Something about falling asleep next to him, even if it was a nap on the team bus, that had just felt natural - you weren’t sure what to call it. 

Even now, when you were especially desperate to sleep, you would scroll through all the blocked numbers you accumulated from telemarketers and political campaigns to the number you knew by heart. The one you knew you couldn’t dial.

The scroll was just a sanity check because did you really want to be the one to message him after all this time and all the shitty things you had both said and done - and you would stare at the number and decide that another coffee the next day would solve your problems. 

But now, here you were, lying there, letting yourself pay attention to the details. His breathing, warm and soft against your skin - his arm around your waist, holding you close - his leg tangled with yours. He was always so warm, too. 

You nuzzled closer, closing your eyes and hearing the same harsh patter of rain on the roof you’d heard the night before. There was no point in making a fuss about the situation - you were stuck here until the rain cleared. The day before had been too miserable. You couldn’t imagine the trail conditions were any more favorable. 

Plus, you’d been so cold the day before. That feeling of numb toes and cold skin was one you hated and didn’t miss from your time as a striker. 

You sighed and pressed closer to him, wanting all the warmth he was willing to share. You felt the way he squeezed you closer. More, you felt the way his fingers barely stretched to cover more of your stomach, gently reassuring you. 

You listened to the soft sounds he made as he woke up - the way he naturally pressed closer to you, like he wanted you to be the first thing he breathed in that morning. That hadn’t changed somehow - that almost natural need that you both seemed to have to be close.

That thing that neither of you had ever mentioned to one another because, thinking back, maybe you both knew what a tenuous thing it was, fragile and ephemeral.  

You waited for him to realize it was you and recoil. 

You hadn’t really contemplated what it would mean if he just held you closer. Much less the gentle feeling of his fingers tracing softly against the small spot of exposed skin just above your hip. 

You were quiet, letting your old memories run riot. 

“It’s still raining,” you murmured, not moving - you didn’t want to break whatever this was.

He hummed softly. “So we’re stuck then,” he replied, his fingers still moving in little circles against your skin.

You nodded, glancing back. “Did you tell any of them where you were going?” you asked, the thought just dawning on you.

“No,” he said, sounding surprised by the question. 

“Mmh, me either,” you whispered. 

“So they think we’re dead then?” he mused.

You laughed. “Knowing Joshua, probably, unless he checked with the hotel and knows that we both went hiking,” you paused, thinking, “oh, he definitely thinks we’re dead then,” you scoffed. 

Mingyu nodded. “It’s the most ‘Joshua’ conclusion,” he said, reaching out for his phone, leaving you to feel the chill seep in without the protection of his arm. 

You shivered. He reached for the blanket, pulling it closer to you as he turned onto his back to check his notifications. He scrolled for a few moments before sighing. “You move closer - I know you’re cold,” he offered gently. 

You were still for a moment, trying to think through the pros and cons, but you really were cold. You turned over and curled against him, feeling his arm loop around your waist while he scrolled. 

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

Mingyu didn’t mind the way you seemed to practically work your way under his shirt after he said you could be closer. It was rare for you to be anything but cold and searching for a hoodie. Even in courtrooms, you always had some kind of wrap or scarf that was virtually a small blanket.  

There weren’t any messages from anyone that he was in a rush to respond to, so he hadn’t. Instead, he found a show that he’d downloaded too many seasons of when he was flying back and forth for a client at the beginning of the year. He was fairly certain that he’d lost at least the beginning of the year and probably all of spring to sitting around in the airport.

He was lost in thought and almost didn’t hear you when you asked if he was okay. He shrugged. “Just remembering why I have 13 seasons of a show downloaded,” he muttered. 

You hummed, seeming to understand. “What client?”

“One in L.A.,” he grumbled. He avoided explaining ‘the one I hate and imagine killing,’ though, so according to his therapist, that was progress.

“That flight is such a bitch,” you said, your voice so soft. You sat up, though, and he immediately wondered what he had done to make you move. But you were just reaching for your phone, opening apps, and, from what he could see, checking to see what you had downloaded. 

You sighed. “So murder shows, murder movies, murder documentaries that the movies are based on,” you listed them off with a raise of your brows. He wondered if you realized how close you were to him, the way you were practically sprawled across him - your face inches from his. 

“Murder shows…” He shrugged because why not - he really hated his L.A. client, and the office, and the partner there, why not see what other people did to dispatch people they couldn’t stand, he wondered. 

You glanced up at him, staring at him for a moment, your fingers tracing absently just beneath his collarbone. “So you were miserable before this case?”

He shrugged. “Am I supposed to be happy?”

You sighed, reaching out to smooth a piece of hair from his forehead. “At least some of the time,” you said gently. 

“Hmm, I think my firm is better known for burnout and high turnover,” he grumbled as he held your gaze. 

You were quiet again, watching him - it reminded him of a cat observing something it wasn’t sure about. 

And suddenly you leaned in, your lips connecting softly with his. 

He would have thought it was a mistake, but it didn’t stop - neither of you pulled away. Until you both did, breathing a bit harder, lips redder, pupils blown. 

He felt your fingers trace along his jaw as you leaned forward, your forehead touching his, your lips a breath away from his. He watched you, his breath catching at how close you were.

He felt the pad of your finger brush the corner of his mouth and move slowly to the center of his lips, teasing him. Your gaze was too soft as your finger just barely pressed against his lips - he moaned softly, and kissed your finger.

You smiled, removing your finger and leaning in again, your fingers shifting to gently hold his jaw, and your lips barely brushed his. He whined - he didn’t want to be teased - he wanted you. 

“Baby,” you murmured against his lips - your voice like honey as your lips pressed fully against his. He groaned as he squeezed your waist, realizing that he wanted you more than he had ever let himself admit. 

Your lips worked slowly against his, barely parting at first, inviting him in gently. His memories of you and his imagined scenarios seemed to meld with the present. The things that had scared him were long gone. 

Instead, he kissed you back, licking into you, tasting you, not caring if he was needy. 

When you pulled away from him, though, the way you looked at him, the way your eyes seemed to brighten. “I want you,” you whispered, your fingers still playing against his skin.

He nodded, swallowing hard, smoothing hair from your face. “I want you too,” he murmured. 

The next kiss came from him. And when he swapped your positions for the first time, he paused for a moment, grounding himself in where he was and who he was with - the way you felt. He wanted to linger there in that moment, even as he deepened the kiss, even as your thighs squeezed around his waist - he wanted to hang onto every part of it and you.

So he was purposefully slow. Slow to undress you - his hands trailing along your skin and limbs in a way that he could only hope you would understand. Slow to undress himself, even, but that was when you returned all his hesitant touches - the way you kissed him and touched him, gently holding his gaze as you did, like you had understood exactly how he had longed to have this with you. 

Nothing was rushed, and when it ended, when everything slowed, when it was just you lying there beneath him, glowing, watching him and pulling his hand gently because you wanted him close, it was everything he always wanted with you. And something he could never have given you before. 

Lying next to you, holding you close, breathing you in, he was almost asleep when he felt you shift to look at him. You kissed him. 

“Missed you so much,” you whispered as you broke the kiss. 

He nodded. “Missed you, too.”

. ݁₊⊹ . ݁⟡݁ . ⊹₊݁.

[ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]

The rain cleared overnight, and bright, early morning sun had dried up some of the mess.

You were both quiet on the hike back, neither of you was precisely certain what the day before meant for the future.

But at least you were back in the hotel room. And the shower seemed to have endless hot water because you both took long showers. 

Mingyu had nudged you to go first, and when you were out, you made him tell you what he wanted from room service before you let him close the bathroom door.

You ordered champagne too, since you had accomplished something, after all, you’d hiked the entire 28 miles. 

You ate, and drank, and watched a random movie about a serial killer. All while snuggled in bed with him. Somehow, you were both suddenly shameless about how much you wanted to touch one another. 

The pillow barrier didn’t return. 

And even though you saw him every day the next week for the new round of depositions, there was an actual, official date planned for the following weekend. Very low key, according to Mingyu, just dinner at his place and watching movies, and the option to stay the night. 

So basically kind of a perfect plan, even if you’d spent the night with him almost every night since you’d gotten back. 

You told yourself that it was because the sleep was too good to pass up, not because you were making up for lost time. 

a/n: eee fr hope you enjoyed it ^^ long fic yayyy...not in parts yayyyyy

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒌𝒂𝒕

♡ master list & tag list

♡ [ 𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ] ★ [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 ) #kat_drabbles

summer coworker [f] | happy hour | soft dom | kinky puppy | sex toy play | valentine's day | puppy play gyu | morning mingyu (cute / fluff) [f] | the one here you hate him | the one that was always lwk dating [f] | the bf to marriage one [f]

[ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

[ mingyu tag list ]

☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @coupsbestleader [e] ☁︎ @fleurloovin [e] ☁︎ @babybae-shisui [e] ☁︎ @asyre [e] ☁︎ @dcrlingyou [e] ☁︎ @yeosayang [e] ☁︎ @nanabananananabatman ☁︎ @yoongznme [e] ☁︎ @gyuhao365 [e] ☁︎ @jeonghnie [e] ☁︎ @armycarat2612 [e] ☁︎ @shuas-winnie30 [e] ☁︎ @famouspoetrydinosaur [e] ☁︎ @ateezaddict24 [e] ☁︎

☁︎ @aaronwarners69thwife [e + wips] ☁︎ @daisymbin [e + wips] ☁︎ @babilou-pov [e + wips] ☁︎ @sseungcheols [ e + wips ] ☁︎ @keyrecsfics [ e + one/multi & wips] ☁︎

☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @stupendouschildnerd [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @tokitosun [e - one/multi ] ☁︎ @lilydaisylily [e - one/multi] ☁︎

☁︎ @ninigyuuu [k.mg - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [k.mg - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎ @sapphireserpens [k.mg - multi/priv] ☁︎

[thesecretestblogever]

hii can i request smut prompt 17 + fluff prompt 2 with nico hischier please🥹

pairing :nico hischier x reader

w.c. : 1.2k

warnings : rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slapping

✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You’re a shaking mess underneath Nico. He hasn’t let up for a second even though he’s pulled two orgasms from you already. His hips piston into yours at a brutal pace. You have hockey to thank for his seemingly never ending stamina. You don’t understand how he can keep this pace for this long, but it’s nothing to fret over now. You just enjoy it. You enjoy being fucked absolutely dumb on his cock with no end in sight. 

Currently, you’re folded in half like a pretzel. Your thighs are pinned up against your chest, your feet resting on Nico’s shoulders as he sinks into the sopping mess of your pussy over and over again. 

The Devils were eliminated from playoffs in the first round, and after some moping, mourning what could have been, and a lot of emotional support from you, you decided to help your boyfriend in a different way and let him take it out on you. You’re no stranger to rough sex with Nico, but this is on a completely different level, not that you’re complaining. He’s a man possessed, chasing something you can’t quite put a finger on but help him try and find, nonetheless. You could tap out any time you want - ask him to stop or use your safe word, but you don’t want him to stop. 

“Open your fucking mouth,” Nico breathes above you in short puffs, the sweat covering his face and back making it hard for you to hold onto him. Your nails dig into his flesh in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. The stinging pain of your nails dragging down his back only spurs him on. You do as he says, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to catch the string of spit that he lets ooze from his lips. The warm saliva hits your tongue and you close your mouth to swallow all he gave you, but his hand comes up to take your cheeks in his palm and holds your face roughly. The grip is damn near bruising and you look up at him, wondering what exactly he’s doing. “Don’t you dare fucking swallow. Hold it until I tell you to.”

You nod obediently, his strong words traveling straight to your core and you clench around him. He growls at the feeling, almost losing himself right there, but he holds back. He’s not done with you yet. 

The sharpness of his thrusts make your whole body jolt with each movement - your breasts jumping back and forth. You do all you can to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head. He wants eye contact and you’ll be punished if you break it. 

“You like that? You’re a fucking whore for this cock, right?”

You nod fervently, eager to please him in whatever you can.

“Swallow and answer me.”

“I’m a whore for your cock!” You cry out and lose the battle of keeping your eyes on his as he shifts his hips and he begins hitting the sweet spot inside of you. You can’t focus on anything as he bullies the hot, dripping walls of your cunt. 

A sharp slap to your cheek brings you right back, shocking you but making every feeling come into crystal clear focus. You can feel the weight of Nico above you, the hot, salty sweat that covers your skin, the feeling of every inch of Nico claiming you. His balls slap against your skin with every thrust, joining the sound in your bedroom of your moans and heavy breathing. 

Nico’s hand finds the delicate skin of your throat, wrapping his thick fingers around it and squeezing lightly at the sides. You’re going to pass out from the overstimulation of everything at once. Your hands fly to hold on to his forearm for dear life as the restricted blood flow makes you dizzy.

“Nico, Nico, Nico,” his name leaves your lips like a mantra with every thrust. It’s the only thing you can think to say. Every other word has abandoned you completely, and every part of you is completely consumed by him. 

“You gonna fucking come? You wanna come on this cock?” He ends the sentence with a broken moan. You can barely nod, partially because of the hand wrapped around your neck and partially because you’re losing all feeling in your limbs. Everything is going fuzzy and soft around the edges. Someone is nearly screaming out for Nico, and it takes a moment for you to register that the desperate babbling is coming from your own mouth. Nico leans further into you, squishing you against the mattress so he can whisper in your ear before taking the lobe in his mouth. “Then fucking come,” he licks over the shell of your ear before nibbling on the soft skin. 

He feels you come undone around him. You have no control over how you clamp down on him, but the second he feels it, he releases his hold on your neck. The blood rushes to your head and makes everything stronger and more intense. You’re shaking from the pleasure of your orgasm as it washes over you in wave after wave. Black creeps into the edges of your vision, but you hold on.

Nico’s face twists into something between pleasure and pain, his own orgasm taking hold as he fucks you both through it. He paints the inside of you, milking every last drop from his erection and planting it deep inside of you, claiming you. 

Once he collapses on top of you, there’s no other sound in the room besides your tandem labored breaths. His skin melts to yours and it takes minutes for you both to recover. He stays there, holding you and plugging you full of his seed until you feel him soften inside of you. Only then does he pull out with a shaky moan, the mixture of your cum leaking from your abused hole with each aftershock pulse of your walls.

“You still with me, beautiful?” Nico’s hand, much softer now, takes hold of your chin and pulls it towards him. Your fluttering eyes meet soft, brown ones. The look in them from earlier is all but gone. There’s nothing there but sweet love and care now. The frustration and pent up anger has dissipated with your help, something that he won’t soon forget. You can only muster a mumble that’s close to words, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth.

His lips touch yours with feather lightness. They’re soft and pillowy - swollen from kissing you ten times harder only minutes before. He coaxes you back to yourself with sweet touches.  

“I’m with you,” you manage against his lips when he pulls back. Your hair gets tucked behind your ear and Nico wraps his strong arms around you so that you’re tucked neatly in his side. His fingers run light trails over your bare skin - your thighs, up your side, you arm. Goosebumps erupt over the flesh and you nuzzle deeper into his warm chest. You’re drifting away into oblivion, and he doesn’t stop you this time. The last thing you remember is a kiss to the crown of your head and Nico whispering sweet nothings in Swiss German.

[doom-dreaming]

more beach house progress pics

kelly has the driftwood room. do they use analog clocks in the 26th century? probably not. but it's cute.

i added a diy sliding door to the shipwreck room. this one's john's. not fully on board with the swing bench on the patio, but i'll mess with it

[ingihasextra]

toby fox and co youve done it again

[ribbittrobbit]

Hiyaw and Himik, the twin deities of noise and silence, of movement and stillness, of action and contemplation.

The church of Taw (from the root word for volumen/ strength of voice), has a dual structure to mirror its deities. Clerics choose to walk either the path of silence - the most radical followers dedicate themselves to a vow of complete silence and contemplation, retreating to monasteries in the most remote regions- or the path of noise - the order dedicated to the service of the church and its followers outside of the monasteries. The central principle of the religion is the duality and balance between the two deities' domains. The silent order serves to balance out the order of noise, to be the stillness to their movement, the deliberation to their action and vice versa. The religion is a relatively small but ancient one, with many devotees among musicians, poets and performers and a great emphasis on ceremony and the performance of rituals that combine the texts of Hiyaw and Himik.

(did i just spend the last two days thinking about making an entire fake religion complete with a clerical structure for my fh sona? yes. did i bastardise the filipino words like "scream" and "quiet" to find matching names for them? also yes.)

[leijonzzz]

I LOVE SUIKODEN SOOOO FUCKING MUCH

[foobars-cool-car]

i dont typically have a lot of computer related feelings but the level of effort i need to put in to type 〉without having to copy/paste it from the internet is filling me with all consuming rage i fear.

[obsesssedblerd]

You look up from your book to see your husband standing over the bassinet with his arms crossed, his brow raising as he looks down inside of it with a tiny scowl. He stays like that for about a minute. You sit up in your shared bed, then call out to him. “Ryo.” 

“Hm.” He doesn’t look up. 

“May I ask what you are doing?” 

“The little brat is staring,” Sukuna says matter-of-factly. “I am simply staring at her in return.” 

Inside of the bassinet, your baby daughter coos. Her scarlet eyes—exactly like her father’s—glitter with interest. You hear her giggle, and you scoff lightly and return your gaze to your book. “She thinks you’re playing a game.” 

“I am doing no such thing.” 

You flip a page. “Put a hand over your face for a few seconds.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he listens. “M’kay, now lift.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then your daughter bursts into a fit of giggles. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “I do not understand what is so entertaining about that.” When you look up again, you see that he’s covering his face again, then revealing himself to get the same reaction from the baby.

“It’s called peek-a-boo. It’s a game most babies love to play.” 

The little princess babbles as she lifts her arms up, and Sukuna tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You snicker. “One: You’ll figure out what she’s saying the more you talk with her. Two: She wants you to pick her up.” 

He sighs dramatically, then reaches into the bassinet to pick up the small girl. Though she has her father’s eyes, she has your hair, the shape of your nose, and your ears. She also has your fearlessness, because she smiles directly in the face of the king of curses. Now at his eye level, she reaches her arms towards him excitedly. “What is it now, you brat? I’m already carrying you.” 

He looks over at you in question, and your smile grows. “She wants to touch your face,” you say. 

“Why?” 

“Because she’s a baby, and she’s curious.” 

Sukuna pulls her closer, and once in range, his daughter lays her tiny hands against his marked face. She giggles more, and you can see his eyes soften. “Hmph. You have your mother’s smile.” 

— — — —

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen where you hear Sukuna speaking with someone. When he turns to the side, you see your daughter nestled in the crook of one of his muscular arms, staring up at him as he concluded whatever story he was telling her. 

“...At the end of the battle, only I remained. Victory was mine.” 

The baby babbles excitedly, and Sukuna scoffs. “Ha, you will do no such thing. How do you expect to join me in battle when you aren’t even a year old, brat?” 

Her face scrunches in what looks like annoyance, and she repeats to him what he taught her the night before. “Hmph.” 

You burst into laughter, and Sukuna raises a brow at the little girl in his arms. “Great. Your mother’s smile, and her attitude.”

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument

love and deepspace

characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 here pt3 here)

note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.

Zayne

Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.

“What is this?”

You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.

“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”

No answer.

“Alright”

He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”

“I’m not. You can go”

“I believe I didn’t stutter”

You scoffed and turned around again.

“suit yourself”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.

Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.

“How about we go to bed?”

“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.

“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”

You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:

“If you still need space I can-”

“Stay”

He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Okay”

He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"

You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.

Sylus

What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.

Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.

Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.

That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.

“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”

“move”

“I asked you a question”

“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.

“Careful with your claws, kitten”

He drops you on the bed climbing over you.

“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”

You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.

“Use your words, sweetie”

“Yes”

“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.

"Sy... I'm sorry too"

"So I'm Sy now?"

This man.

"Nevermind, you're still a prick"

You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"

You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.

[hearts4hughes]

PLEASE some rafe is an asshole to everyone but reader fluff!!!!

everyone hates him. your friends think he’s rude. your neighbor crosses the street when he sees him coming. even the barista at that coffee shop on main visibly flinched when rafe smirked and said “don’t fuck up her drink again.”

and okay, fine, he can be a dick—he likes being a dick. it gets him what he wants faster, and he hates small talk, and he genuinely doesn’t care if anyone likes him—as long as you do. and you do.

you hear his voice before you round the corner. it’s sharp, disdain curling off every syllable. whatever conversation was happening on the boneyard bench before you got there has clearly gone downhill fast.

“jesus, topper,” rafe snaps, “do you ever think before you open your mouth?”

topper’s standing, arms out like he’s trying to defend himself, but rafe’s leaned back on the bench, legs wide, jaw tight, murder in his eyes. you pause for half a second. then you move. without saying a word, you slip between them and drop onto the bench beside rafe. it’s casual, innocent, like you didn’t just sit next to a loaded weapon.

he doesn’t react right away. not verbally, at least. but his hand finds your knee almost instantly. it settles there like it belongs, thumb rubbing over your skin in a slow circle. like he wasn’t just seconds away from strangling his childhood best friend.

topper blinks. “oh. hey.”

you give him a polite smile. “hi.”

rafe doesn’t look at topper again. he doesn’t need to. the shift in him is obvious, almost absurd. his posture eases, his voice drops an octave. “hi, baby,” he says, like the word tastes good.

“hi, rafey.” you blush with a grin. “you done verbally assaulting your friends?”

“depends,” he mutters. “you gonna keep me from finishing the job?” you roll your eyes, but your hand slips into his anyway, fingers threading through his lazily. he squeezes once, like he’s already won something. “he was being an idiot,” rafe mutters under his breath, mostly to you now. “saying dumb shit like you wouldn’t be able to handle…”

“handle what?”

“nothing,” topper cuts in quickly. “it was a joke, dude.”

rafe levels him with a look that could kill a lesser man. “it wasn’t funny,” he says flatly. then, turning to you, he melts. his eyes soften, his lips curl into a smile. “you okay?”

you nod. “just tired.” rafe hums in reply. his hand moves, slides around your shoulders like it’s second nature, pulling you closer. you end up curled into his side, chin tucked near his collarbone, and he kisses the top of your head like it’s just another tuesday.

“rest,” he says, mouth brushing your hair. “i’ll deal with him.”

“you’re so dramatic,” you murmur, voice muffled by his shirt.

he smirks. “you like it.” god help you, you do.

topper stands awkwardly for another beat, then finally mutters, “i’ll just…go.”

“great idea,” rafe calls lazily, already playing with the hem of your sleeve like he didn’t just verbally eviscerate someone two minutes ago. as soon as topper’s gone, he exhales—long and slow—and rests his cheek against your head. “thanks for saving his life,” he murmurs. “i was close.”

“you’re awful.”

“i know,” he whispers. “but i’m nice to you.” it’s true, and when rafe is nice, it’s not performative—it’s real. it’s in the way he runs his fingers through your hair, in the way he always has a hoodie for you before you ask, in the way he’d go to war for you and sleep soundly after.

rafe cameron is an asshole to everyone—except you. and he doesn’t even knows how not to love you.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey @ivysturnss @kisses4rafey @katiebby04

[shidoglazer]

virgin!reader with a newly found breeding kink x experienced kaiser please please please (im actually sabrina carpenter)

first time

michael kaiser smut mdni breeding kink dumbification

rough sex degradation ＠shidoglazer

you weren’t the one to watch porn, let alone have weird fetishisation or kinks. you were inexperienced, nothing more then getting off at your fingers whenever you were pent up. but one day, when you were scrolling through twitter, you came across a video that for some reason, ignited a spark in you. a man pounding ruthlessly into a girl much smaller than him. then at the end, he’d pick up the phone and flash the girls glistening hole, buckets of cum leaking out of it. shit, you were feeling your clit throb after it.

you were imagining that with your boyfriend— kaiser, him just pinning you down to the bed while he oozes warm, thick cum into your hole without end. you kept rewatching the video with a pillow in between your legs, grinding against it softly.

this went on for days. touching yourself to the thought of kaiser cumming in you, filling your hole with warmth until the only thing you could think about when you were with him was him breeding you. eventually, after a few more weeks of craving him and enduring your urges, you finally snapped.

“..misha?” your head perked into his bedroom as he quickly paused whatever he was watching, turning his head over to your direction and stretching an arm out. “hm? cmover here. what is it?” you quickly scrambled to his side, sitting on one of his thighs as you fiddled with the fabric of your shirt, hesitating.

“i,, wanna try “breeding”, misha,, i know it’s embarrassing but,”

“ah ah ah.” he cut you off. “not embarrassing at all, sweets. tell me, d’you know what breeding means? what else do you wanna try other than breeding?” he sounded more intrigued than you did.

“um well.. it means when the man.. finishes in the girl, right? i don’t wanna try anything else.. just that.” you spoke timidly, as if he’d start laughing at you at any given second, which wouldn’t be surprising considering the type of person he was. but he didn’t, instead, he cupped your cheek and placed a kiss on your lips, one so tender, so gentle-

“hah, what a naughty fucking girl.”

(missionary)

“misha, i ccan’t! t’big, t’big!” you squirmed out underneath him. he was barely in halfway and yet just the tip of him was making you whimper like an idiot!

“mhm? my cocks too big for your little hole? shh, its okay, sweets. take it easy, its your first.” he leaned down to your level and placed tender kisses against your temple, his other hand trailing up to your cheek to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall. “i know its hard, it’s hurts doesn’t it? michas got’ya. just a little more, mkay? can you do that?” and despite your hole being split open in half, you nodded in agreement. how could you not when he was being so gentle with you? it was just a little more, just like he said!-

“misha!! yyy-ou said jus a little!” much to your horror, he’s slammed his whole length into you. you were shaking, arching your back, trying to kick him off, whimpering all while his face was plastered with that stupid grin of his. and the worst thing was, it felt so fucking good.

“shuuush. don’t you want misha to breed your little cunt? thats what you wanted right? how do you want me to cum in you if you don’t let me put the whole thing in?” kaiser whispered beside your ear. of course, he wasn’t so mean that he wouldn’t wait for his girl to adjust to his length, he was huge and he knew it. “bbaby, move, please?.” you mumbled out, giving him the “go” signal

“mhm. gonna breed ya, kay?” he moved his hips backwards and slammed back into you, ripping a moan out of your throat.

“gonna make you a mama, kaay?” he slammed into you again.

“gonna ruin this pussy for everyone else, you like the sound of that? ” and again.

“gonna fuck you til you can’t cum without me.” he placed a kiss on your neck before starting to jackhammer his cock into your velvety walls, your arousal and his pre coating his dick that made wet, sticky and slicked noises whenever he slipped in and out.

“ffuck, y’hear that, sweets? your pussy loves my cock.” you were beyond saving at this point, reduced to a whimpering mess and a wet hole for him to use. your brain was practically mush as he kept pounding into you, the pleasure overtaking all your senses. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth fell agape but no sounds came out, your body completely limp under his touch; allowing him to move you into any positions he wanted ..

one of his hands trailed up to your cheeks and slapped it lightly, not enough to sting but enough to snap you back into reality. “look at me, dirty whore. you gonna cum soon? feel your pussy clenching around me like a fuckin life line.” his hand gripped on your jaw, squishing your cheeks together, forcing you to look at him straight in the eye.

“g-gwona chhuumm,, miisshaa,, bwreed me, please!” your words came out muffled and slurrish from how hard he was gripping your face. kaiser let out a chuckle, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. “yeah baby? dirty fuckin’slut wants me to breed her?” you nodded dumbly to his words, your hands reaching to the bedsheets to grip onto them as leverage, fearing you’d fall off the bed if he continued to fuck into you so hard.

kaiser let go of your face and held onto your hips, steadying himself before starting to slam into you again without hesitation or mercy. his orgasm slowly crept up, causing him to curse under his breath. “shiiit, gonna cum, gonna breed you, g’na- fuck! take it!” both of you reached your orgasms, kaiser held onto your hips and pulled you closer then before as a sea of his cum filled your hole with warm stickiness, mixing with your arousal.

he fell limp against you, still trying to bury his dick further into you as if you’d escape if he didn’t. after a brief moment of silence, both of you came down from your highs slowly as he gently pulled out of you, pulling you up to embrace your body in his broad arms, caressing any patch of skin he could find.

“liebe. you still with me? you ‘kay?” “hnn..” “good.”

★ masterlist

[f1fantasys]

MONACO BABY

Summary - Lando fucks you without a condom for the first time. This could really be read as two fics combined from my poll (Before the race weekend, lando said he’d fuck you without a condom if he wins AND He fucks a baby into you when you celebrate later that night.) Let me know if you'd prefer a whole separate one though, or if i should write a part two basically confirming you got pregnant from all the nasty you did. Let me knowwww

Warnings - heavy smut. blowjob. m! and f! receiving. oral sex. fingering. penetrative sex. cowgirl. unprotected sex. spit play. cum play. use of the words slut and whore.

3.5K+

It was Friday - free practice day, and you noticed that Lando had woken up this morning feeling optimistic about the weekend - a feeling you'd wanted to see him feel since Australia.

A little bit of a back story? You were a Sky content creator, and had been dating Lando for a little over 6 months now, so still pretty new, although it really felt like he was your end game. You knew he was. Your relationship was still private, not yet out in the open though there had been speculation, but you'd both tried to keep it as secret as possible, enjoying your own bubble. Lando's win in Australia was the perfect way to start the season, but it all fell short when the next races up until now were less than fruit full. So to see Lando full of hope today, you were secretly thanking the gods above. He had been harsh on himself up until now. Too harsh.

Call it wanting to rile him up with more adrenaline, whatever it was, this is how you wound up in the position you found yourselves in right now -

Lando had just come out the shower, a towel hanging low on his hips as you sat up in bed and silently watched him do his hair care routine. His dark eyes found yours in the mirror. 'Like something you see?' he asked, sly smirk on his face.

You felt your cheeks heat up immediately, clearing your throat as you rolled your eyes. He turned to face you now, dropping his towel in a swift motion, all his glory out for you to see. His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach as it bounced a few, throbbing as he took himself in his hands and pumped himself while walking towards you.

'You know all you have to do is ask baby, I'm all yours, yeah?' he said teasingly, grabbing he back of your head, harsh but not harsh enough to hurt you, to make you look up at his face instead of his dick that was now level with your eyes.

'Fuck off' you teased back, unable to hide your smile as you finally brought your hands up to wrap around him. He was pulsing, the thick vein at the side protruding deliciously s you stood up and pushed Lando to sit on the edge of the bed. 'Need to taste you, please' you begged, though you knew he was putty in your hands now.

All Lando could do was groan at the sight in front of him - you, naked, on your knees, tongue darting out to lick the sticky pre-cum off his tip. He jerked forward at that, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your hair out of your face as you finally took him in and sucked.

'Oh fuck me,' he panted, 'that mouth of yours' he mumbled breathlessly as your worked your way on him, bobbing your head up and down repeatedly while his hold on your hair tightened wit each passing second.

You squeezed your thighs together at the mere thought of what you were doing, half not believing you were sucking THE Lando Norris' dick, even though you'd done so about a thousand times by now.

'That's it baby, fuck, you're so good at this' he cooed, taking control of fucking himself in and out of your mouth as your moves started faltering, his hips jerking forward with each thrust, making you gag, tears at the corners of your eyes, and obscene noises filling up the otherwise quiet room.

You tugged and pulled at his balls, sucking as hard as you when you felt him get sloppier by the second, impending orgasm threatening to overcome him any minute now. When you pulled back for air, a string of your spit still had you connected to Lando, and he couldn't help but lean down to you for a dirty, messy kiss, both your tongues battling each others', before he pulled back and was quick to shove his dick back in your mouth.

'Shit I'm so close baby, where do you want it?' he asked, though he knew the answer, you were always ready to taste him, and so when you didn't reply, it wasn't even a few seconds until his whole body was shuddering, hips bucking forward as he spilled his seed down your throat, while you pulled back for air again as he sprayed your face white with his cum, both your chests heaving with the rush.

You sat there breathless, while Lando looked down at you, another sight for sore eyes with just how messed up you were, with his mess on you body, cum dropping down from your face onto your boobs and down your stomach.

He gently let his fingers spread his cum around your face, eventually bringing them to your mouth for you to take in, suckling softly and groaning at the taste of him once more.

He had a look on his face, one you knew all to well, one that only ended with trouble.

'I know that look Lan, what are you thinking?' you pressed, nervous for his answer because you knew whatever he'd say would make you clench your thighs together.

He smiled then, a full blown Lando Norris smile with all his teeth showing, your favourite smile, barely for a second though, because his gaze was quick to turn dark again as he traced his thumb across your bottom lip.

'Thinkin' about how I'm gonna win the race on Sunday..then fuck you with no condom on...need you feel you raw baby' he said, voice hoarse but so casual as it rolled off his tongue with such ease.

You stared up at him, mouth agape as your brain short circuited the second the words left his lips. 'What?' you whispered in shock.

He smiled again - 'You heard me. Need to feel you raw' he said, grabbing a few tissues off the bedside table and wiping your face, helping you up and back onto the bed.

Your mind was spiralling. This is a whole new ball game in your relationship and your body felt alive with butterflies squirming their way in your stomach, anticipation building up and the weekend hadn't even started.

No words left your mouth as Lando pushed you to lie back before straddling you, fiddling with a condom wrapper before rolling it onto his girth which was already hard again, and ramming int you, dirty words of his plan being whispered into your ear.

2 days later, and your man actually fucking won the Monaco Grand Prix.

Let's take it back a few - your relationship had basically been soft launched by the media wen you were caught with Lando's family all weekend. You wished it'd have come out on your own terms, but f1 media played no games, so the multiple views of you on tv had your name, 'Y/N, Lando Norris' Girlfriend' as your tag.

You watched on as Lando climbed out of his car, tens of people pushing their way past you in hopes of getting close to the driver as he hugged his mum and dad, and when his eyes locked with yours, he reached out for your hand, his thumb ever so gently rubbed circles while his god damn beautiful face sent you a wink and a kiss, sending you into a frenzy of tingles. Your heart clenched for a second as the look he'd just given you was reserved only for you, and now the whole world would see it.

Fast forward the podium , the team photo, the prince's ball, and partying at the club - you both stumbled back into his apartment, very tipsy, but not drunk enough because you both wanted to remember the whole evening and celebrations.

You tiptoed through the hallway as quietly as possible, not wanted to wake Adam and Cisca, though Lando was proving that to be impossible with the way his body was glued to yours, lips tracing every inch of your skin as he tickled your neck with stubble, all while leaving a trail of your clothes behind, though it was mostly his - yours was literally just your dress since you hadn't worn any underwear.

As soon as you reached his room, he slammed the door shut, pushed up up against it, and attacked your lips with his own. It was messy, hungry, tongues and teeth clashing as your hands gripped harshly at his hair. He swallowed your moans when his hands roamed down to your glistening cunt, fingers sliding through your folds, pinching at your swollen clit.

'Hmm, Lando, please. I need you.' yu mumbled when his lips moved down to your neck, biting down at your sweet spot as he plunged two fingers through your hole with no warning. You gasped as your back arched off the door, biting down on your bottom lip.

Whatever he was doing felt good, but not good enough, even when he added a third finger and repeatedly hit against your G-spot. You needed more, you needed his dick.

You found your voice again, between he whimpering and panting, grabbing rough at his hair again to make him look up at you.

'You said you-'

'I know what I said.' Lando cut you off. 'But I'm gonna make you cum at least twice before I so much as get near fucking you love' he said, voice raspy, then brining his mouth down to your peaked nipples.

You knew once he had his mind to something there was no going back, so you decided to let him use you how he pleased. His tongue rounded your left nipple, hot against you skin before he b it down harshly, eliciting a gasp from you as his fingered continued their torture on your cunt.

Lando soon added another finger, the stretch sore but welcomed as you felt yourself nearing you high, biting down on his shoulder, and all it took was one pinch of your clit before you were shuddering in his arms, body limb and cum gushing out of you uncontrollably, as he worked you through it, mumbling to himself something about how hot you were when you squirted like this.

He kissed you again, picking you up with his hands under your ass as you kissed him back, slow and deep, the opposite of the desperation there was a few minutes ago.

He placed you on the bed and you were quick to get on your knees, working on ripping his boxers off quickly to see him spring free, aching hard. You wrapped your hand around and started pumping when Lando quickly pushed you off him.

'Someone's eager' he said, sending you a wink before pushing you to lay flat. 'But I need to taste you first' he said, spreading your legs open with his sticky fingers, groaning at the state of you.

You still had cum messing your pussy, he was quick to lean down an lick a hot strip through your folds, tongue lapping at you harshly while you grabbed onto his hair, tugging at it as lewd moans left your mouth.

'Fuck baby, please, god yes, feels so good Lan' you managed to say between breaths, a heat already building up in your stomach as he started thrusting his tongue in and out of your hole. 'Gonna cum' you warned, not caring how quick were took to reach the high, goosebumps raising on your entire body as he ate you out like a starved man.

Lando nipped at your clit then, the sensation coursing through our body, sending your orgasm down with a thrill as you shook uncontrollably underneath him, his tongue not slowing one bit as he groaned at the sweet taste of you.

You looked down to see his mouth and chin dripping with spit and cum as he smiled sheepishly, leaning up to kiss you for the millionth time today.

'Please. I need you' you finally begged between nips and licks at his lips, not knowing how much longer you could wait without exploding with desperation for his cock.

Finally, he sat up on his knees, eyes shamelessly checking out your body.

'No condom yeah? he asked slowly, gaging your reaction as he spat down onto himself and pumped a few times.

You nodded your head, sure no words would leave your mouth.

'Gonna let me cum inside you?' he asked, testing the waters once more.

You nodded again.

'Words, baby. Need to hear you say it?' he pressed, his thumb softly rubbing circles on your inner thigh.

'Please, fuck me. God I need you an your cum Lando' you said breathlessly, anticipation really budling up.

That was all Lando needed to hear. He hovered over you again, balancing on his elbow as one hand cupped your face, while the other slid his dick through the folds a few times, gathering your slick, until he lined his dick up at your entrance.

His eyes were glued to yours as he slid inside of you when one, quick thrust, bottoming out immediately.

You both gasped at the same time, your back arching off the bed as your breaths mingled, foreheads against one another.

He felt so much bigger without the condom, the lack of barrier letting you feel his heat in such a tantalizing way as he stretched you out dumb.

Lando's breath faltered when he felt how tightly your walls clenched around him, cunt throbbing around his girth with a warmth he'd never expected to have felt. 'Y/N,' he paned, cold breath on your skin. 'So fuckin' tight.'

'Need a second' you said as he nodded in agreement, your body always needing a minute to adjust to his size, so he kissed you filthy again, tongue lapping against tongue until you started squirming underneath him, craving more friction.

'Gonna let me fuck you?' he asked, slowly sliding out and then ramming back into you with force again.

You let out another gasp followed by a pornographic moan when he repeated that action, his hands quickly coming up to cover your mouth.

'Have to be quiet unless you want everyone to hear me fuck you' he said, voice raspy, burying his head in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist as tightly as you could. At this point you didn't care if anyone heard you - all you could concentrate on was the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you.

You dragged your nails up and down his back, scratching at his skin, a sheet of sweat starting to cover both your bodies.

This new, raw connection between you both was a series of different motions. Lando's pace was quick, relentless, then all of a sudden he'd slow down to deep, sensual thrusts, before picking up pace again.

He was whispering dirty nothings into your ear as you continued moaning and gasping his name as his every word and movement.

'Fuck, hearing you say my name like that, drives me fucking insane'

'Could stay buried inside of you raw like this forever'

'Look at you, you love when I fuck you like this yeah?'

'Tight little cunt is all mine, my slut yeah??'

'Or better - such a whore after your boyfriend wins a race'

It was no surprise that your orgasm ripped through your body with no warning, crashing through you as your mind blanked out and you saw stars, dirty grunts filling up the room together with skin against skin slaps as Lando didn't slow his movements one bit.

Lando for one, knew he was a goner the second he felt your juices spewl all of his cock, and when he looked down to see the mess, he let out his own series of filthy moans.

'Baby fuck, look at the fucking mess you've made. Can cum just from looking at it' he groaned as you wrapped your legs tighter around him.

'Lan too much, I can't' you cooed, the stretch really starting in sting now.

He slowed his movements, but didn't stop, voice edgy as he spoke. 'You really want me to stop before you've let me cum in you? Huh? Before I've fucked a baby into you?'

Your chest heaved, choking on your spit as you took in his words, and suddenly your whole body was pumped with adrenaline. You didn't answer him verbally - no. Instead you mustered all the energy you could to push Lando off you to lay back, so you could straddle his hips, taking him dripping dick in your hands and lining him up with your cunt as you sank down on him in one hard thrust.

'Look at you, all eager for my cum' he teased, hands finding your hips and helping you set a vast, sloppy pace, while his eyes stuck to your bruised boobs, bouncing up and down as you rode him.

'Feel's so fucking good Lan' you whimpered, feeling his cock hit your G-spot over and over again, one hand on your own stomach as you felt his bulge everyone he thrust up into you.

With no warning, you came again, quivering above Lando as his movements were becoming sloppier, your moans getting so loud that he hand to bring a hand to cover your mouth again, before he pulled out and pushed you back again.

He stood at the end of the bed, pulling your body to the edge and spreading your legs further apart, before leaning down to spit directly on your cunt, and finally rammed into you, with intent this time, clearly chasing his own high, with his dirty words returning.

'Feel that baby? That's my cock, getting ready to cum inside you'

'Ready to fill you up yeah?'

'Not gonna stop until your dripping with me'

'Gonna lick my cum that's gonna drip out of your cunt'

Once again, his words threw you off. You could swear you've never cum so hard before, your body going like jelly, all you could hear was Lando's muffled voice, until a feeling unlike any other hit you at once.

His body was jerking forward into yours, cock twitching uncontrollably between your walls as he trembled above you, cum shooting out his tip and through your body, filling you up complete while pornographic grunts and moans left his mouth, swear words flying out like there was no tomorrow as he released all that he was holding in.

Lando's mind went blank as his muscles tensed, hands gripping your hips tighter while his own hips bucked forward, the raw moment causing him to make eye contact with you as he was sent over the edge, filling you up so perfectly while the things leaving his mouth were anything but.

Finally, he let his weight fall on top of you, both of you so out of breaths, bodies shivering at the cool air hitting your sweat-clad bodies, his face buried in your neck while your arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

'Fuck' he panted, as his hips involuntarily spasmed forward again, cock with twitching against your walls as you slowly but surely felt him softening inside you.

'Lan...' you breathed, turning your head a bit to make him look up at you.

You both took in each others states - both fucked out, foreheads glistening with sweat and cheeks a deep red colour, breaths hot against one another.

'I know baby' he said, lips against yours, softest of kisses while your hands ran through his damp hair.

'You okay? Sorry if that was too much..' he said softly, bringing a hand up to your own face, thumb tracing your lips.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the stark contrast of what was happening a few minutes ago compared to now.

'I'm more than fucking okay. God, can we do this all the time? You really know how to fuck a girl' you said, almost whispering the last part.

He smiled. 'Just have a whore as my partner' he whispered back, before shutting his eyes when you gasped and smacked his shoulder playfully.

'I'm joking, I'm joking. I have the most amazing woman, who takes me so fucking well, is all' he said, leaning down to kiss you, hard.

Eventually after a dew minutes of slow, deep kissing, Lando pulled out, the both of you groaning at the loss of contact when he slipped his dick out.

He helped your wobbly body onto your feet, and you didn't miss how his eyes were glued to your pussy. You looked down at yourself, breath hitching when you saw how a mix of your fluids when slowing sleeking its way out your cunt and down your thighs, and in turn this made you look at Lando's dick, glistening.

'I-fuck.' you started but Lando was quick to cut you off with an 'Uh huh' while he lowered himself to the ground.

He let his fingers spread the cum on your thighs around, before every so gently leaning forward and licking a strip up your folds, making you hiss at his hot tongue on your most sensitive parts, scooping up as much of the sticky juice as he could, before he was standing tall again leaning down let it drip from his mouth into yours before he was kissing you sloppy again, making a mess of your face.

You moaned into his mouth - mind going at a thousand miles an hour - normally b y now you'd want to clean, freshly showered or at least wiped down, especially with just how nasty the pair of you had been tonight - but at the same time - the smell of sex in the room, the sensation of Lando literally dripping out of you - you wanted to stay like this for as long as possible.

Lando must have felt the same because he didn't guide you to the bathroom, instead brining you to lie down next to him, cuddling you as close as possible as he turned the bedside lamp off. And his last words of the night already had your core tingling in want for him.

'Rest up baby, gonna take you raw in the morning again.' he whispered, before leaving a kiss on your cheek and pulling you closer when he heard your gasp and felt a shiver run up your body.

[yuramour]

ADORE YOU — F1 GRID

synopsis. the grid as dads pairing. f1 grid x reader (ft. mv1, yt22, ln4, op81, gr63, cl16, lh44, dr3, aa23, cs55, ih6, jd7) genre. fluff warnings. idk?? established relationships, mentions of like, having kids?? duh?? wc. 1.8k (150-ish each)

a/n. im ovulating. that's all. also, i wrote max's before he had his baby, so like, absolutely called it. (yes, this has been in my drafts for over a month now.)

MAX VERSTAPPEN

♥︎ girl dad

feels so incredibly obvious, but that's because it's so incredibly true. this man would treat his daughter like an absolute PRINCESS. putting aside the fact that max is an amazing bonus dad for his girl, he just like, exudes girl dad energy. i honestly have a hard time explaining it, but like, trust. omfg he would buy his baby girl literally anything she wants- just one look and he's MELTING and doing whatever she wants. overall, he'd actually be a pretty level-headed dad, especially as his daughter gets older. like, he has good clear boundaries and rules, but still respects her as an individual. would he threaten any future potential boyfriends? no. he doesn't need to. he's literally max verstappen. that's intimidating enough. so yeah, overall, he'd just be a fantastic dad, and he'd have such a great relationship with his little girl. and that's the tea. i love him.

YUKI TSUNODA

♥︎ both

yuki strikes me as the type to not really want kids until he's older. like, he's dedicated to his career until the day he decides he wants kids, and then he's all in on the dad thing. this man does NOT play about family vacations- like, he's got the full itinerary, waking the kids up at 5am to go to the airport for the flight that doesn't even board until 10am, fanny pack, yelling at everyone to put on sunscreen every five minutes. like, he's got that shit on lock. i don't think he cares much about how many kids he ends up having- he just loves being a dad. and trust, he does not play about his babies, he will throw DOWN for them. even as his kids grow up and move out, he is available to them 24/7. he is dropping everything to be there when they need him.

LANDO NORRIS

♥︎ girl dad

someone hold me back. this man is SO girl dad istg. now don't get me wrong, lando would be happy just to have kids- i'm sure we've all seen the numerous videos of him with babies and little kids and he's just absolutely cheesing in all of them. like, this man just loves kids. but he would absolutely LOVE to have a baby girl. i am so so convinced. he is does NOT play about his baby girl. tea parties, playing dress-up, watching every single barbie movie back to back- he's just happy to be there. he absolutely eats up a princess tiara. lets his baby girl do his makeup and all- tells her that she made him look beautiful every time (even if he looks like a literal clown, his girl can do no wrong in his mind). is he a bit of a pushover? yeahhhhh. is it a bit of a problem when he physically cannot say no to his baby girl? yeahhh sometimes. but at the end of the day, lando is just so full of love, he would do literally anything and everything for his kid.

OSCAR PIASTRI

♥︎ boy dad

GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD dont get me started on this one. i'm literally in shambles right now. oscar's nonchalant personality is GONE. vanished the second he holds his baby for the first time. he is just so proud to be a father, and his baby boy is the absolute light of his life. he starts every single post-race interview saying "hi" to his baby at home because he knows he's always watching. UGHHGHGHDGHFGDHDGHDGDHG im dead. he likes to keep his private life private of course, so he doesn't typically talk about his kids in interviews, but whenever anyone asks, he can't help but gush about them a little bit</3 dont get me wrong- oscar would be a great girl dad, but he just like, exudes boy dad energy. TRUST he would raise the sweetest, kindest, most generous little boy ever. im gonna STOP right now bc my brain cant handle this. but you get the vibes.

CHARLES LECLERC

♥︎ girl dad

we all saw this coming COME ON NOW. GIRL DAD TO THE EXTREME. that baby girl will never have to want for everything in her entire life. charles already has it all covered. he plans the most elaborate nursery for that baby and has it all set up months before she's even born- he's just so excited. teaches her how to play piano as soon as she's old enough oml. and when she's old enough to go to school and go out with friends, he doesn't hesitate to put his card in her mobile wallet- she could literally buy a whole car with his card and he'd be like "yes, what a sensible purchase. you definitely needed that 🥰" TOTAL pushover and he doesn't even realize it. if you insinuate that he might need to put his foot down a little bit, he is absolutely AGHAST. whatever his baby wants, his baby gets. of course, he's such a sweet man, he raises a sweet, sensible, kind girl. just a liiiiiittle bit spoiled.

LEWIS HAMILTON

♥︎ both

he would just be so happy to be a dad in the first place, he would not gaf if it was a girl or a boy. genuinely, he's the most balanced out of all of the drivers. he brings up his baby anytime he gets the opportunity. even if the conversation is not at all related to kids- if he gets the chance to relate the topic to his kids or being a dad, he will. like, he brings up his babies in EVERY interview. he definitely tones it down after a while, but he's just so elated to be a dad, it still slips out sometimes. again, he doesn't care about whether his baby is a boy or a girl- he just wants to raise a responsible, kind, empathetic person. and even though he talks about his kids basically nonstop, that doesn't mean he'll really want them in the private eye. i think having kids would give lewis more incentive to keep his private life PRIVATE. like, people probably wouldnt even know what his kids look like until theyre a couple years old at least.

DANIEL RICCIARDO

♥︎ TWINS

daniel can't live without chaos in his life. twins are just inevitable. we've seen how chaotic daniel is as an uncle, and being a dad is pretty much the same. he's just a little more careful. having boy/girl twins, daniel treats them the exact same. takes them dirt biking, hiking, sand duning, lake swimming- everything. his twins become his little travel buddies. he's usually the silly goofy fun dad, but TRUST he can be serious and scary when he wants to. like, he will throw DOWNNNN for his kids if he needs to. no other thoughts. just dadiel.

GEORGE RUSSELL

♥︎ girl dad

its that one picture of george in an eras tour shirt with his hands on his hips like an absolute diva that just SCREAMS girl dad. like, he will do ALL the "girly" things with his daughter. he lets her paint his nails, plays barbies with her, watches her shows with her, etc. every day is a constant diva-off between him and his daughter, bc TRUST he's raising her like a literal princess. like, that child is never going to have to work for anything ever. like, lando is nothing but a butler to his baby, but george and his kid are in a constant battle for princess status. two icons, truly.

ALEX ALBON

♥︎ boy dad

pure chaos in that home. never a moment of silence. play fighting, playing baseball in the living room, 1v1's on Halo on the tv, fridge full of bug juice and costco pallets of stain remover in the laundry room. alex fully embraces being a boy dad the second his kid is born. that house is going to be LOUD and ROWDY. but don't get me wrong, that boy is going to be KIND and RESPECTFUL. alex may be the fun goofy dad, but he is going to instill good values into that boy. breakfast in bed for mom every sunday, learning how to cook, learning how to clean- that is going to be a well-rounded, emotionally intelligent kid. bless up.

CARLOS SAINZ

♥︎ girl dad

literally the most perfect dad in the world do not play w me right now. does he treat his daughter like a literal princess? yes ofc. but he is going to make sure that she is respectful, patient, and kind. if she's gonna be anything, she will not be spoiled. i see carlos after becoming a dad keeping his life as private as he physically can. like, he'd want his kid to live as normal a life as possible. but oml going back to the like, girl dad thing, carlos is the most gentle patient dad in the entire world. like, every disagreement/argument is handled in the most mature gentle way possible. every mistake is turned into a lesson instead of a punishment. like, literally the ideal dad. istg im gonna melt right here right now. love that guy. he's the type of dad where his kids are never uncomfortable coming to him about any problem they're having. im gonna stop right here before this gets too long oml

ISACK HADJAR

♥︎ girl dad

(i have a drabble about young dad!isack cooking in my drafts, i just need to get this out before my brain explodes) when his baby is first born, (and well before), he is NERVOUS and SCARED. like, tf does he know about being a dad??? poor guy is hesitant to even hold his daughter for the first time bc he's scared his arms are gonna give out for some reason and he'll drop her. though he gets into the groove of being a dad pretty quick. like, the way he goes from scared boy to peak DAD™ so quick needs to be studied. the type of dad to offer to carpool for his daughters soccer games, bringing all the best snacks and drinks for practice. takes pride in the fact that his home becomes The Hangout House™ for his daughter and her friends. he's just the type of dad to practically adopt his kids friends and treat them like his own.

JACK DOOHAN

♥︎ boy dad

the type of dad who basically just becomes best friends with his kid. like, they just hang out with each other. he takes his kid to hang out with his hangouts (i can just imagine young dad!jack taking his son surfing with his friends and being the only dad but all his friends treat his son like a little member of the friend group im crying). anyways, sometimes he may be a little bit too chill and fun. like, he may have a hard time setting boundaries with his kid bc they're just so chill w each other💔 like, he may struggle a bit for a while especially as his kid gets older, but i think the older he gets, the more dad-ly he becomes.

taglist: @revelauver @bear-yawns

[joonie-beanie]

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs. 

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!” 

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—” 

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks. 

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ” 

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles. 

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->