#designer's edge kitchen & bath

[artistofu]

Traditional Laundry Room Inspiration for a small timeless single-wall porcelain tile and beige floor utility room remodel with a single-bowl sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, beige walls, a side-by-side washer/dryer and black countertops

[microprogressions]

Great Room - Traditional Kitchen A mid-sized traditional l-shaped kitchen design with a medium tone wood floor and an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartz countertops, a beige backsplash, a subway tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, and brown countertops is an example.

[druitts]

Traditional Kitchen - Kitchen

Example of a mid-sized classic l-shaped medium tone wood floor open concept kitchen design with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartz countertops, beige backsplash, subway tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and brown countertops

[jennhoganillustration]

Portland Laundry Multiuse Inspiration for a small timeless single-wall porcelain tile and beige floor utility room remodel with a single-bowl sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, beige walls, a side-by-side washer/dryer and black countertops

[bloody-vampire-lolita]

San Francisco Beach Style Living Room Example of a medium-sized enclosed living room in the beach style with a light wood floor and beige walls, no fireplace, and a television stand.

[jjjjisun]

Lucky Slip

Yiren X Male Reader | 3090 words

TW: Incest

—

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

—

She was singing in the shower again. Boy, I hated hearing her sing when she knew I was waiting for her. There was always my parents' shower, but we tended to leave that one alone for whatever reason. So I stood there, waiting, pacing, and generally worrying about whether I'd make it out to my job this morning. Sure, I didn't have to be there right on time, seeing as I had been running my own thing during the summer for a while now, but it was the principle of the thing. I had commitments, and she was headed, god knows where this morning. Believe me, this was not the first time.

Judging by tight and tiny workout clothes lying on her bed, she was heading to the gym and was likely just doing some of her "beauty" exercise, designed only to maintain what was already near perfect. Oh yeah, and there was that; the fit, 18-year-old tart, my little sister Yiren, singing the sweet notes that were breaking steadily through the sound of the falling water, was drop-dead gorgeous.

It started with the face: a cute but sultry combination of deep brown eyes, great cheekbones, and a set of pouty, pink lips. Her dirty black hair often fell messily down and sometimes in a tight braid. Now, it would be wet and hanging down her shoulders and body below. There probably aren't words for how amazing her body was, but either way, she had breasts made up of the perfect handful, a taut, smooth stomach, and never-ending slender legs coming from a spankable behind.

She was rarely discrete about prancing around the house, as she would be now if she walked out in one of those tiny bath towels we owned. (I still don't know where our mother could have possibly bought them) Sure, I felt guilty, but I assured myself that my deliberate avoidance of concentrating on how hot my little sister was was enough to balance the dreams I often had of her. Even my peripheral vision couldn't un-see that half-naked angel bending down to take clothes out of the drier in a bra and panties on Sunday afternoons. And more than once, I saw an unmistakable smirk on her face when my mouth dropped open wide. She flitted across the kitchen in nearly nothing as I made breakfast.

So there I was, waiting outside the door like a total sucker when I finally decided to address the problem, and whether it was my impatience or my considerable need to pee that led me to it, I don't know. I jiggled the doorknob just so (living in the same place for ten years, you pick up a few things) and swung open the locked door, making right for the porcelain. I took care of business quickly, and I was happy to have gotten there before I had an accident at 22 years old. It was then, standing there, that I noticed the silhouette of my little sister on the curtain.

Whatever the material was, it probably wasn't designed for much privacy because I could see enough to immediately get blood pumping to my lower half. For crying out loud, I could even make out the pink of her nipple as she arched her back and ran water through her hair. I looked away, remembering my resolve. But there was nothing to be done; the most naked view of my sister I'd ever gotten had penetrated my defenses. My cock was all the way hard before I could do anything. Combine that with my accidental reflex to flush the toilet, and I was about to be standing there with a raging boner just as my little sister realized I was in the bathroom.

She teased me enough about any girls I could be seen with or my wide eyes when I turned the corner to her room in the middle of her undressing; God knows what she'd say about her big brother getting hard over his sister. So I did the only thing I could do: I sat down quickly and leaned forward to try and conceal my arousal. As expected, Yiren poked her head around the curtain's edge within seconds of the flush. She did a poor job covering what the curtain revealed; that certainly wouldn't help the situation.

"What the fuck, Oppa!" she hollered.

"I had to go, and you are taking so long, I just couldn't wait anymore!" I piped back.

"Ugh, you are such a jerk. You never give me any privacy," she steamed

That was a laugh - her prancing around the house was far from asking for privacy.

"You better not look," she said as she disappeared behind the translucent shroud again, "I've seen you do it before, hmph!" She said the second part was a little quieter, but I still heard it.

Seconds later, when I was practically begging my penis to calm down, the water suddenly shut off, and I could hear Yiren drying off and sliding back the curtain before I could do anything but hunch to try and avoid her seeing my stiff shaft. She led with her long, smooth leg before I could see the tops of her breasts threatening to free themselves from the snugly wrapped towel. I was beginning to doubt I'd get through this; her body was working overtime against me.

And then there it was, the little bit of water she'd dripped on the floor before when she'd pulled back the curtain to curse me out was just below her lead foot. Already lifting her other foot to clear the tub, she was doomed. The heel slipped with an audible screech, and Yiren headed backward fast and directly toward where I sat. I didn't know what to go for in my attempt to catch her; I removed my hands from their shielding of my erection. I reached out to grab her arms as they came for me, but her unbalanced stance sent her sweet bottom first. It slid right by my outstretched arms and down. I just missed it, and I could only attempt to cushion her fall the way I did. And then she touched down...

It was an impossible chance, lightning striking the same shark attack twice. And yet, when I was just about to ease her to a stop, the final 8 inches of her fall made all the difference. My head popped just between her lips, and a second later, it was buried within her. Yiren came to rest, completely sheathing me, her brother, inside of her.

Silence. Reality was trying its hardest to set in, but the utter warmth, the clasp of her walls, the wetness. Oh my God, was she wet? And not 'just out of the shower wet' but more 'now I know why she takes such long showers wet.' "I must have interrupted her," I thought as I savored being engulfed in my sister just after she'd been playing with herself. My hands were on her butt just as they were when I reached out to catch her, and she wasn't even touching the floor. She made one slight movement, testing what would happen if she tried to get up, and I'm not sure what she thought of the result.

Though I didn't think it possible, I pushed a bit forward into Yiren when she moved, and both of us gasped. My hands unintentionally squeezed at her butt, and when my cock found that new place in her pussy she shot a hand back to grab one of my wrists. She hadn't meant to, but I appreciated the sheer emotion of the gesture.

"Oppa......" she whispered between pants.

I waited. I attempted my old 'avoid the temptation' technique, and when I felt her quim pulsing upon me, I knew it was pointless. My squeezing fingers pulled Yiren closer to me, my shaft slid against Yiren's walls, and I could feel her fingernails upon my wrist.

"You have to... we have to stop..." It sounded like she was trying my strategy, though her words were barely audible.

".....yes, okay..... you have to get up first." I warned.

At first, she didn't move, and then she put her foot on the ground and pushed upward. My sister's tiny hole slid out around me slowly, pleasurably, until she slipped again. I looked around and could see no reason for it, but down she went until her ass reconnected with my hips. I searched her for an answer and only caught a second of the glance she'd sent my way on her look back. However, it was unmistakable as it flashed a smile.

And a naughty one at that. My perfect little sister wasn't as innocent as she'd played. Her smile gave her away. I positioned my hands for a different type of help this time. Her hand, still wrapped around my wrist, tightened. My hands indented in her as I guided her just a fraction of an inch from popping out. She cast her glance my way, sending boughs of her luscious black hair bouncing over her shoulder. She was sitting more upright now, her back arching, and as my eyes met hers, the wicked grin I observed told me she wasn't about to stop.

She began to sink back into my lap, my rod filling her with its heat, inch by inch. This time, she cooed and reached back with her other hand. I was in heaven. The towel fell away from her body, and for the second time, my naked, sexy little sister was descending upon my protruding member (intentionally, that is). It was so warm, and its tightness made me focus on nothing but the feeling. I couldn't control myself. As she came down to meet me, I grasped her all the more firmly and thrust upward to meet her.

"Oh God, we should stop..... oh fuck..... we should not be doing this..........uhhhh," she couldn't even finish the sentence.

I started to move my hands a bit, becoming bolder and hungrier to feel my sister's body. They inched over her hips, which I paused to grasp, feeling her hipbones as I pressed my fingers into her. I massaged her a bit there, causing the slow and steady bouncing she had begun to increase in tempo.

"I thought you were getting up?" I teased, having trouble focusing as Yiren was sliding herself up and down on top of me. My God, I knew she wasn't, but by the tightness of her tunnel, I could have sworn she was a virgin.

"Uhhhh... Fuck you..." She let out with evident frustration.

"I think you are, sis..." I strained, and she laughed.

My hands made my way up to her breasts, finally, and they were all I'd dreamed of. As I took them in my hands, they sat there cupped perfectly. I kneaded them, brushed my fingers over her nipples, and marveled at their perfection. One of my hands continued adoring her breasts while I wrapped my other arm around her abdomen, forcing her down hard now onto my penetrating rod.

"Fuck you're big... I can't stop.....mmmmmggghh..... don't stop fucking me." She sounded so sexy, moaning and cooing while talking dirty to me.

I decided to take more initiative, pushing myself up from our position and finally causing Yiren's dainty toes to contact the ground. As soon as they did, I turned her, with my cock still lodged inside of her, to the sink. Standing now, it was my turn to start fucking my little sister just the way I wanted her. Bent over the sink as she was, she suddenly stood on her tiptoes as I started pushing my thick head in and out of her once again. It was an involuntary gesture, the little spasm that had stood her like a rail for me to shove myself directly up into, probably from all the pleasure I was giving her, and I loved it almost as much as the panting I could hear coming from my ungodly sexy sis.

I reached in front of us once again and took a firm grasp of her chest, lodging myself inside her warm pussy as my hands massaged her tremendous tits. She did her best to meet my thrusts, but my desire for her had me winning out and slapping my pelvis against her toned butt. I fucked her like that for a few minutes, my hands alternating between a dominant grasp of her slender neck, soft breasts, toned abdomen, and pert ass. I even reached down to massage her clit and send her into a powerful orgasm.

"Ohhhh FUCKKK..... Oh my God, I can't believe.......ughhhh.... my brother is making me cummmm!!"

And cum she did; the pulsing of her walls around my penetrating member was almost enough to send me over the edge, but I powered through and made her ride out her orgasm with continuous thrusts inside of her. We looked each other in the eyes in the mirror, watching as my hands worked themselves around her body and seeing each other's wide eyes in disbelief at the sheer excitement and pleasure.

"Fucccckkk...." She whispered as she came down from her orgasm. She was short of breath but had enough to say: "I want to watch. I want to watch your big fat cock going in and out, please?" I wanted to look into her eyes directly, too, to watch her watch me press my cock into her pussy and know just how much she loved it. My little sister - the consummate tease and the object of so many of my dreams now in my grasp. I wanted to look deep into her eyes as I fucked her. I wanted this act of incest, which had started as an accident, to end up with Yiren begging for more; now that I was inside of her, I wasn't sure my cock would ever feel right anywhere else.

Yiren must have felt the same way, too, because when I dislodged myself from inside of her to flip her around, her face was laden with need -- the need to be filled up by her big brother's big cock once more. It was she who reached between us and took hold of the head of my steaming rod, placing it at her entrance and saying:

"Oh please, Oppa....put it back in me..."

I leaned into her body, my cock head urging its way passed her tight lips. As I began to inch my cock into my little sister's pussy I also lifted her by the ass, my fingers pressing into her firm, smooth cheeks as I put her weight on the vanity.

"Yeessssssssssssss.... Show me, Oppa, that big thing of yours going in your naughty little sister....oooohhhh." I did just that, bottoming out in her inescapable warmth before retracting and entering her passage once again. First, we were both looking at the penetration, the unbelievable and erotic incest we were both losing ourselves in, and then upward. My eyes scanned her body, hers mine. When we reached our lips, I leaned in, locked eyes, and kissed her recklessly. The kiss said everything we couldn't: that Yiren's teasing had been only about torturing me and that my dreams were fighting to manifest themselves. Yiren's look was one of desperation. I could see another orgasm welling up inside of her, and I wanted her to come with me. I was so close.

"Oh, baby, oh, big bro... please... I know we shouldn't, but... uh..." she trailed off.

"What Yiren...? I said over hurried breaths, still focusing on sliding my shaft in and out of Yiren's pussy. I could watch it flex to accommodate me, her insides making way for the penetrating staff.

She moaned as she tried to catch enough breath..."I could get pregnant......Ohhhhh God, I don't give a.... fuckkkkkkkk......oooooh." I pushed in deeper on that one, spurred on by what I could tell my little sister was implying over an escalating orgasm.

"Just fill me up baby... yes, yes..... cum in your bad little sis...... I've been teasing you for so long..... I can't believe I've been....uhhhh... missing this!" God, she sounded so sexy.

I was seconds away now, and Yiren was headed there, too. Just a couple more strokes, and we'd both be......Wow, the feeling was so wonderful. I watched my sister roll her eyes and head back as she started to feel it, my cock pulsing with its first powerful jet of sperm, directly, deeply into my little sister's pussy. She was over the edge, and I held her in my arms as she clutched me and howled in front of me. With another pulse of sperm, my heart felt like it would explode, but I only exploded again into Yiren's womb.

It felt like it could go on forever, Yiren's spasming body or the powerful sprays of my seed. It didn't, though, and my beautiful, albeit horny little sister was smiling like the dirty little girl she was while we remained locked together at the hips. My cock softened only a bit, remaining so full of desire for Yiren that it refused to disappear. Yiren rested her head on my heaving chest.

"Ummmm..... wow.....

"Yea... That was...." I stuttered to find the words.

Yiren finished them for me, "Intense...amazing.....wow."

"You are... unbelievable." She blushed when I said that, though I wouldn't have known over her sex-flushed face.

Yiren felt my cock still hard inside of her. It must have grown because her eyes widened, and she said with shock, "Are you serious? Ready to fuck your little sister again so soon? Don't you think we should get some protection or something?"

"Yesss.... " I got out.

But my cock had other plans. The risk of getting my little sister Yiren pregnant sent my cock expanding deeper and broader into Yiren's slick channel. She flashed me that famous smile, and I knew she wanted it.

She wanted it three more times that night. We fucked on the kitchen table, on the screened-in porch, and, best of all, in our parents shower. I couldn't get enough of Yiren's beautiful body and her seductive and sexy personality. We got to protection eventually, but filling my little sister up with her own brother's sperm was all that either of us wanted for a while. We're just crossing our fingers, and I'm still making love to my sister as much as possible every chance I get.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Such a lovely, welcoming estate that they call a textile villa. I don't know what that is, except that the owner worked in textiles. The home was built in 1906 in the Netherlands, as a country home, but the family loved it so much that they decided to stay permanently, so the owner built an office wing and worked from home in 1916. 3bds, 3ba, 6,404.53 sq ft, Price On Request (Must be staggering.)

The house is just as lovely as ever. I don't think I've seen a wallpapered sun porch before. The flooring is orignal.

Isn't this a beautiful sitting room? Look at the unusual fireplace. The mirror is set into the actual hooded mantle and the bricks make a red & black striped pattern.

That light fixture! It doesn't come furnished, but those soft green velvet chairs just make you want to settle in.

Muraled wallpaper in this room is so inviting. And, look at the chandelier.

Spacious kitchen in soothing green tones. Look at that stove and matching hood.

The dining room has built-in storage with a fireplace on one wall. I love the soft pink and how the wallpaper ties in with the furnishings.

They chose to ignore the orange tile on the fireplace, keeping it original rather than replacing it. My mother was a designer and it's not unusual to simply ignore certain elements like carpet color, etc. and proceed with the chosen color scheme. But, note how the flames and a few orange glass bottles pull those colors in.

This rustic lounge is amazing. The plants complement the colors of the velvet fabrics.

The wonderful wallpaper extends out to the hall.

A surprise at the top of the stairs- I didn't expect a library. What a great idea.

Very spacious primary bedroom with an original built-in cabinet. How cozy. Love the fireplace and how they closed it off with decorative tile.

Big, beautiful remodeled bath.

The stylized vintage/modern soaker tub was the perfect choice.

Love this spacious rosy room with a door to a pretty porch.

This home is so beautiful. (And, it's not gray or white.) Look at this wonderful little retreat-for-one to sit, read, and relax beneath a gorgeous chandelier.

They kept the original tile in the back hall off the kitchen and prettied it up with beautiful wallpaper.

And, we're back at the sun room/conservatory with the doors open to the patio.

Beautiful patio and gardens.

The approx. 12.9 acre grounds are partially open to the public to enjoy, with boundaries. A number of places are private, fenced off, and expressly closed to visitors. The fen, for example, they kept to themselves, to swim and relax at the water's edge (well, it is their home, so is there an electrified fence or what?). The current owners are on good terms with the residents of the town: “They have seen how the metamorphosis of the estate and the villa took place and appreciate that they are allowed to walk and cycle here.”

Would you, as the new owner, allow them to continue? (They damned well better throw me a welcoming party first.)

https://www.funda.nl/detail/koop/enschede/huis-welnalaan-5/43617486/

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Possibly but of a strange request but Charlie’s half blood partner explaining to his dad how planes fly and the function of a rubber duck?

I distinctly remember him asking at least one of these to Harry in the movies and it actually made me look up the answer as well lol

A/n: He did 🤣 , Arthur is so pure and adorable.

Arthur Weasley’s fascination with Muggle inventions knew no bounds, and as Charlie’s partner, you had long since accepted that part of your relationship meant answering his father’s never-ending stream of questions. Today, you found yourself in the Burrow’s kitchen, explaining two very different, yet equally perplexing, Muggle objects to Arthur—airplanes and rubber ducks.

Arthur sat across from you, eyes gleaming with excitement, as he eagerly leaned in. “Now, tell me again—how does a plane fly? There’s no magic involved, and yet it stays in the air?” His voice was filled with pure wonder, as if the concept itself was more impossible than dragons breathing fire.

You smiled, exchanging an amused glance with Charlie, who was barely holding back laughter. “Right, so airplanes rely on something called aerodynamics. The wings are designed in a special shape that helps create lift. When the engines push the plane forward, the air moves over and under the wings at different speeds. This difference in pressure makes the plane rise.”

Arthur gasped, gripping the edge of the table. “Fascinating! The air lifts it? But… how does it stay up? Surely it should fall at some point?”

“Well, as long as the engines keep providing thrust and the wings keep generating lift, it stays in the air,” you explained patiently. “Of course, when it needs to land, the pilot reduces the speed, and the plane comes down gently.”

Arthur’s mouth opened and closed, his brain clearly working overtime to process this completely non-magical feat. “Incredible. Utterly incredible! And you say Muggles travel in these all the time?”

Charlie finally spoke up, grinning. “Yeah, Dad. And they don’t even think twice about it.”

Arthur shook his head in pure amazement before his expression shifted into one of equal seriousness. “And… what of the rubber duck? What function does it serve?”

You stifled a laugh, having expected this question at some point. “Well… it doesn’t really do anything. It’s just a bath toy for children. You know, something to make bath time fun.”

Arthur frowned deeply, as though this answer troubled him on a profound level. “So… it has no purpose?”

Charlie groaned playfully, rubbing his face. “Dad, you’ve asked this for years, and the answer hasn’t changed.”

“But surely,” Arthur insisted, eyes darting between you and Charlie, “there must be some hidden use. Perhaps a clever storage device? A method of detecting magical interference? A secret message carrier?” He looked utterly scandalized at the idea that Muggles would create something purely for fun.

You chuckled, reaching over to pat his hand. “I promise you, Arthur—it’s just a toy.”

Arthur sat back, still looking dubious, as if he refused to believe Muggles would make something with absolutely no practical function. After a moment, he sighed dramatically. “Muggle ingenuity never ceases to amaze me. Planes that defy logic and ducks with no purpose. Truly, they are a remarkable people.”

Charlie burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’ll never convince him, love. Just accept it.”

You grinned, shaking your head as Arthur Weasley sat back, utterly delighted by the mysteries of the Muggle world, even if some of them would always remain completely beyond his comprehension.

[whorediaries-09]

put my lips to something;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- fluff, suggestive content, mentions of the war. a/n- do i have an economics exam tomorrow? yes. will i still write this? yes.

the diner;

the last bit of the banana is flicked off the ceramic plate. she stands on her tiny tiptoes, running the plate under the cool water. she says- no, insists that she doesn't need a stool. she's five now, she says. tall enough.

you're leaning over the refrigerator, sipping slowly, the last warm bits of the sickly sweet coffee she'd so convincingly prepared for you. she's stubborn. like her dad, you think, smiling to yourself.

the water splashes on her frock. she grimaces, the cold seeping through her delicate, soft skin. she wipes her hands on the kitchen towel, setting the washed plate in the racks, letting it dry. she pads slowly towards you. you take the last sip of the coffee, watching as her lips form a pout. her gray eyes look into you, the request unspoken.

it's easy, really.

put a star sticker on next to the list of chores designated to her. which isn't much. wash the dishes, eat your fruit, don't pick your nose, and don't say any bad words. she'd accomplished two of them, at least.

'your soaked, baby,' you say. your nails dig into the thin paper, pulling the sticker off. she pouts even more. gives you a puppy eyed look.

'i know mama,' she says. her arms wrap around your waist, silently begging you to pick her up. you'll relent, because how do you not? the water from her clothes seep into yours too. you carry her to her bedroom.

'let's get you changed, yeah?' she nods, sleepily. nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck. you soothingly pat her back. there are no monsters under her bed, you tell her. and you won't let any get under her bed either. that, you tell yourself.

'not even in my closet?' she asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. you look into her wardrobe, selecting a soft blue frock.

'not even in your closet,' you confirm, handing her the frock. she smiles sleepily, changing her clothes. she tucks herself into bed. she's five, she says. she doesn't need your help to pull a blanket over her body. she can read a bedtime story by herself too, she insists.

'want me to put out the lamp then, baby?' she doesn't answer, snuggling further into the pillow under her head. your clothes stick to your body too. you'll change your clothes too.

*-

you're pulling up your shorts. his faded t-shirt's next. before the fabric can fall over your waist, the door clicks open. the tobacco comes next, followed by musk. a hint of cologne too. his cold fingers splay over your waist, index trailing the stretchmarks over the skin. a hint that you'd carried a life. a life you'd made. with him.

'hey, sweetheart,' he says. the t-shirt falls over his hand. his chin follows next, resting atop your shoulder. you smile, resting your head against his.

'hey, you,' you feel his breathe, hot against your warm skin. he sighs, pulling you close. the world's raging outside. you'll indulge in this moment of quiet. even when you don't say anything. even when he doesn't say anything.

'want me to draw you a bath?' you ask. his fingertips trail higher, over your sternum. it rests along the underside of your breast. he sighs louder, taking in your scent.

'will you join?' he asks. tilts his head. from the periphery of your eye, you see him give the puppy dog eyed look. he knows you've already taken a shower. you don't need it.

'please,' he whispers. barely audible. so soft, rasped in your ears. your hand trails underneath your-his shirt, and your hold his hand. wedding rings clash against each other.

'yes,' you relent, because, how do you not?

*-

he sits in the bath, his abnormally long legs a tight fit in the tub. you sit against his chest. he's got his arms wrapped tightly around your torso, as if he's afraid you'll leave.

there's slow sips of wine that follow pursuit. hot kisses trailed against the skin of your neck. quiet gasps leaving your lips. whispers of 'i love you's'. promises of 'forever'.

and it's all true. you know that. he knows that.

'nova say anything about me?' he asks, questioning about his daughter.

'yes. she kept asking me why you were so late.' a kiss follows on the juncture on your neck and shoulder. a thumb, running circles on your inner thigh.

'you're upset,' he says. it's not an inquiry. a plain statement. an observation.

'not upset. i know what it's like to be out there. i'm scared for you,' he sighs. breathe hot against your skin. stubble running against your neck. hot, open mouthed kisses. hand on your thigh trailing higher and higher. resting just above where you need him. the water splashes around your bodies, as another shared sip of wine follows.

'i know, darling,' he whispers. his canine grazing against your throbbing pulse. your head falls back, resting on his shoulder. it's addicting, the feeling of his lips on your skin. how he makes you feel. the flutters of butterflies in your stomach. the gooseflesh on your skin. the heat between your legs.

'i'm just afraid you won't come home alive.' you confess. you hear his breathe hitch. his kisses grow more urgent, more insistent. his hands all over your hot skin. water splashing around as you settle more on his chest.

'i'll always come home alive. to you. to nova. to us.' he promises. he squeezes your waist, other hand rubbing tight, slow circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. he's got your body mesmerized. he's mapped it out in his mind. every curve, every dimple, every mole, every scar, every stretchmark. he knows it like the back of his hand.

'make me believe it, sirius,' you gasp out, stomach clenching at his ministrations. it's not much of a command than a request. but he gets the hint anyway. he pulls you closer-if that was possible. places his lips on your neck, sucking slowly. bruising you so gently.

'as you wish, my love,'

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[ricciardo133]

Winter Break 2025

maxiel, weight gain, body worship, pregnancy briefly alluded to

-

Daniel always loves the way Max looks during the winter months. As Max steps into Daniel's Monaco apartment, Daniel eyes the tight fit of Max's running shorts along his softening hips.

"So, you have new merch?" Max asks, oblivious to Daniel's ogling. Daniel snaps to attention and follows Max into the living room.

"Well, obviously. As your new sponsor, we gotta make a whole Verstappen collection," Daniel adds with jazz hands for pizazz. "And I wanted to get your approval before we send the designs to print and you're stuck wearing all this for a year."

"It can look like anything," Max says, unbothered.

"Oh, good. I'll tell them we're a go on the Enchanté-branded assless chaps."

Max laughs, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Yeah, perfect for Media Day. I assume there is a matching cowboy hat."

Daniel feels his cheeks flush, picturing Max actually wearing that combination and nothing else.

"Just try on the samples and humor me, Maxy."

Thankfully, he's now not the only one blushing. They've been friends for long enough to know how to edge the unspoken line without ever crossing it, neither ever making that final push to send them spiraling onto one side or the other.

"Yeah, alright," Max says. "I'll do a fashion show."

Daniel claps and leads Max over to the dining room table where an already-opened cardboard box holds an assortment of red, blue, white, and orange apparel. He holds up one of the pull-overs, assessing which to try first.

"They're just the rough drafts, so let me know if you think they look like ass."

"No, Daniel, they look very cool. I like the classic look. And the big "É." Very you."

Daniel feels his dick twitch in his pants, thinking of Max branded with his label, marked as his, for the world to see. He tosses the shirt into Max's arms and pulls out a pair of summery shorts to match. "Just give these a spin. I sent them your size, so they should fit."

Daniel has seen how deep the flush can go over the years, like an old-timey thermometer measuring of how flustered his younger friend can get. He bites his full lips as his neck turns pink.

"I, uh, might be a bit bigger right now. But they'll fit for Melbourne. I'll look better."

"You look great now, Max."

Max spins on his heels and into the adjacent half-bath, door closing, as if Daniel hadn't seen him almost naked before. Daniel sits on the barstool at the kitchen island.

Sometimes he hates gooning this fucking horny friendship line and wishes he could just buck up the nerve to say something. Anything. Maybe now that they're not somewhat teammates, it'd be okay? Or is it inappropriate for a patron to think about cupping their client's ass and spreading his soft flesh-

"Okay, remember, they'll fit better in a few months."

Daniel looks up and feels his body tighten as he takes in the sight of him. Max squirms in the pull-over, zipper done all the way up. The orange sleeves hug his full arms, and the white, soft fabric stretches tight along his chest. Oh God, his tits, Daniel thinks guiltily before trying and failing to think about the design aspect of all this and not how Max's soft stomach pulls the pullover's fabric taught. His fuller belly peeks over the top of the shorts. His hips, always seemingly begging to be held, curve and slope down to full thighs. Max shaved. His normally fuzzy legs smooth as he shifts his weight on one bare foot to the other.

"I know," Max says, voice nervy. "It happens every year. I'm on holiday, but I'll get better."

"Don't say that," Daniel gets up. He feels the line veering closer, like pushing too hard on a circuit he knows by heart. He stops just an inch beyond appropriateness. "You look great."

"Daniel." He can't parse the pleading note in Max's voice, something shaky.

"You always look so good this way," Daniel goes on, watching Max's big blue gaze get thrown in starker contrast as his cheeks flush again. Max even shaved his face. He looks so young, like when he was his teamma-

"Daniel," Max says again. "I just feel too big."

"You're perfect, Max. You normally don't wear these things zipped all the way up, though. More like this,"

The line. Daniel crosses it, fingers gently pulling the pull-over's zipper down at an agonizingly slow rate. He didn't realize Max was holding his breath until he shudders a shaky exhale.

"Does it feel good?" Daniel asks, hands trailing up the sleeves, feeling the soft fabric casing Max's biceps.

"Yes. It's good."

"And not too tight here?" Daniel lets his hands draw inwards along Max's chest. Seeing he's already blown past the point of no return, he lets his palms rest over Max's full breasts. "Is it okay?"

Max nods, fast. Through parted reddened lips, Daniel sees Max's perfect, glistening tongue against his straight teeth.

Daniel squeezes. Max keens, a note Daniel has never heard from the other man. He rubs, making gentle circles over hardening nipples.

"Oh, Daniel," Max whispers.

"Maxy," Daniel returns, hands trailing lower, feeling the full rise of his belly. "Breathe."

Max acquiesces, belly shuddering. Daniel relishes the soft, pliable skin below the warm fabric.

"You look so good like this, Max," he says, stepping even closer. He lets his gaze dip, feeling Max's head lower to rest their foreheads together as Daniel stares at his soft belly. He rubs gentle lines around it, dick hardening as Max lets his body go even softer. He could even look three months pregnant, how round and full he fills out the top.

Max whispers his name again and then again as Daniel pulls up the fabric and finally touches smooth skin and then once more as Daniel's fingers dip into the waistband of the shorts, exploring back as Daniel presses flush to squeeze his hands into Max's full, soft ass.

"You deserve to feel good," Daniel says into Max's ear, words falling on the red nape of his neck. "At every weight, you deserve to be so fucking worshiped, Max."

"Oh my God, Daniel."

Daniel squeezes again, more firmly this time as he traces up to hold his pillowy hips. They always look so bitable in his fireproofs, and now they're filling out even more in the too-tight shorts, begging to be gripped. To be used for everything Daniel has wanted for years.

"I know," Daniel says, suddenly self-conscious, "this is, uh, a lot."

"It's good," Max asserts, his own hands flying to Daniel's back as if to keep him in place. "If it's good for you."

Daniel snorts a laugh, letting his hips rut forwards. His stiff cock meets Max's soft thigh. Max whines.

"More than good, Maxy." He presses his lips into heated, soft skin at Max's shoulder. "You're perfect like this. So fucking perfect." He reels at Max pressing his own hard length into Daniel's hips. It's bliss. Max's body, warm and eager and full and, for now, his.

"Alright, so, should I try on the others?" Max asks, a gentle mirth in his tone.

"Yeah, let me help you take these off first."

[bratreligion]

LOOK WHAT YOU DID FEATURING CONNIE SPRINGER | CHAPTER ONE

“and i’m feeling something new, i can’t explain it, heart racin’. and it only beats for you, i can’t resist. oh, look what you did.”

SYNOPSIS after four or so years of living the single life, you run into famous music producer, connie springer who would later change your life forever.

CHAPTER ONE wc 3k smth ngl im lazy, no content warnings needed i think, haven’t been here in a minute i hope yall like it because i’ve never done a series before! :D

it was a quiet saturday, the soft, consistent chatter of season two of the vampire diaries mindlessly sounded from your tv, its purpose being background noise for the evening. as you wiggled your left toes under the led lights of your gel dryer, you finished cleaning up the edges of the polish on your right toes. it was the last thing you had planned to do for the day after running yourself a hot bubble bath, enveloping yourself in the soothing embrace of lavender infused body oils, and gently massaging the silky blend down your thighs and calves. as the week ended, it didn't take much to indulge yourself and feel truly pampered. working full time as a makeup artist could be exhausting, but the money made it all worthwhile. Some nights, all it took was a bottle of wine to unwind.

a little ‘beep’ chirped from the machine, signaling the polish was dry. you smiled as you stretched your legs out, proudly admiring the design you managed to draw on your toes. going for something simple, an hour prior, you had drawn french tips on your toes, painting little pastel hearts every other toe, nothing too special, but certainly on brand for you. fingers tapping the polish a few times, you ensured the last coat was completely dry before slipping your legs off the bed, sinking your manicured feet into the soft, warm cushion of your baby blue care bear slippers, the cotton soothing the soles of your feet. ss the clock approached 5 pm, a gentle rumble in your stomach hinted that dinner was still a ways off. yet, the craving for a snack tugged at you. you started making your way toward your bedroom door, eager to rummage through the kitchen until the erratic buzzing of your phone vibrated through the floor.

you sighed dramatically, not the slightest bit surprised by reading the contact name attempting to reach you. you grasped the device, feigning annoyance as you answered the phone. your brows furrowed slightly, anticipating the exchange, knowing you loved it when ymir called. “man, what do you want?”

“yo, shut up, you’re not even doing anything.” ymir huffed, scowling. she was seated in her jeep wrangler, the blacked out interior and tinted windows all too familiar because she was constantly on the go. her dark brown curls framed her freckled face, diamonds dancing on the chain her girlfriend had bought her, sporting a new white designer hoodie from a brand you didn’t even know the name of. you had to admit, the girl could clean up nicely. “so, look, my cousin is co-hosting a block party on the north, and before you say you aren’t coming, i never said you had a choice. get dressed.”

you strolled over to your bed, falling back into the plushness of your mattress, rolling your eyes as you blew a raspberry. nine times out of ten, you only left the house because of ymir, her extroverted nature heavily differing from your meek self. while most friends in relationships abandoned you, ymir and her girlfriend were frequently coercing you into coming out of your condo, even snatching you out of your room from time to time. you knew what the deal was when she called. “‘mir, i told you last night that i don’t want to come out this weekend. besides, a block party sounds like too much, especially if eren’s hosting.”

ymir sucked her teeth, laughing in annoyance. “girl, i don’t wanna hear that. get up, it’ll be fun. you act like an old ass lady.” if anyone else had been on the phone, you would have hung up minutes ago. it had been some time since you had seen ymir, as your busy schedule had prevented you from taking too many personal days. the two of you had gone from seeing each other four times a week to once every other weekend. you chuckled as you shook your head, knowing your arguments fell on deaf ears when it came to her. besides, you did miss her.

you sat up, making your way over to your vanity, propping the phone against the mirror as you sat on the furry stool. “whatever, lil’ girl, are we matching today or what?”

she grinned, displaying her teal braces as she bounced in her seat, gripping the steering wheel. “hell yeah, i know you’ve got something orange and white. i’ll be there in thirty.”

time slipped away as you stood before the mirror, a radiant smile spreading across your face after your conversation with ymir. you couldn't help but admire yourself, feeling a rush of confidence as you took in your reflection. “pretty” wasn’t even the word to describe how you looked. you stood comfortably in your orange and white dunks, adjusting the light wash denim mini skirt you paired with a white, long sleeve bodysuit and an orange puffer. your braids dangled down your back, the curls in each braid making the style fuller. by the time you’d finished accessorizing with jewelry, ymir was outside, blasting the usual rap music you had grown used to. 

you were familiar with the area the block party was in, having been on the north side for outings several times before. the street thrummed with life, a vibrant array of people coming and going, their laughter and conversations blending harmoniously with the pulse of music that flowed through the air. as you stepped out of the car, the smell of weed traveling with the cool september air engulfed your senses, and it didn’t smell like anything ymir had smoked on the ride there. as ymir led you around, she was greeted by at least ten people who asked who you were and why they had never seen you before. ymir ignored their questions. like her infamous cousin, she was well known. sometimes you thought that if you hadn’t met her in the eighth grade, you would’ve never crossed paths. 

“yo, cuzzo!” ymir screeched, jogging towards eren, who pulled her into a hug as he dapped her up. you had known Eren almost as long as Ymir, and saying they were two peas in a pod would be an understatement. if they were not meant to be cousins, they would have been twins. Not only did they share the same goofy, playful personalities, but they also looked alike. as much as it pained you to admit it, due to his player nature, eren always looked good. a gold chain rested on his black wife beater that appeared too tight for his muscled chest and his long, brown locks in his usual low bun. his smile was something of its own, sensual and overly sexy. eren was fine, no doubt about it, but you knew that regardless of all his flirting over the years, he was worse than ymir before she met her girlfriend. he was sex on legs–a walking red flag.

“what’s up, ‘mir!,” eren cheekily grinned, geeked to be around his cousin. his eyes shifted to you, doing his usual shameless eyeing at your figure and face, his smile turning devious. “oh, you brought, miss hollywood. come here, girl, where my hug at?”

giggling, you smacked your lips, striding towards eren and hugging him, squealing as he held you close. “hi, eren, nice to see you too.” 

eren grinned at you. “i haven’t seen you in hellas, where you been?”

shifting in your shoes, you tilted your head to the side, playing coy. “working, man. you know i don’t get a break. these celebrities work the hell out of me.”

he threw his arm around you, biting down on his lower lip. “you work too hard, i’ve been telling you about that. forget them. call me when you wanna do a full beat.” his joke got a small laugh from your lips, but it was interrupted when a voice across the lot called his name, diverting his attention. you brushed off the interruption, leaning casually against eren’s car while sharing a laugh with ymir as she blew guava mango scented smoke from her geek bar into the atmosphere. 

“man, he’s gonna feel like he won the election the day you let him giggle you out them victoria’s secret panties, i swear to god,” ymir mumbled, laughing harder as you swatted her leg. she leaned over, watching eren as he talked, and you, being just as nosy as she was, watched alongside her. next to him stood a man a few inches shorter, maybe standing at 5'9, modeling an overgrown silver toned blonde buzzcut. he wore a pair of black chrome hearts sunglasses on his lower nose bridge, but it did little work at hiding who he was underneath, his facial features all too familiar. you squinted as you scanned his outfit, which was a white jersey with pink and yellow lettering on his torso, paired with oversized jean shorts with ragged edges. the sight of his exclusive black and yellow louis vuitton sneakers left you speechless, recalling how you had seen the shoes before, but in person and not online.

you thought about the last time you’d done someone’s makeup for a big event around two weeks ago. you always wore a mask when you worked, regardless of how comfortable you were because most of the time, your client wasn't the only person in the room. that day, you’d done at least four looks, and the final one was for mikasa ackerman, a singer who had become a well known name in the alternative pop genre. it wasn’t the first time you’d done her makeup, however, things were different due to the presence of a certain music producer, constance ‘connie’ springer. it had been a long day, and as much as you wanted to fangirl in your head, you were too tired. you were used to being around people of all different statuses, so you didn’t pay him much mind as he and mikasa discussed the production details for her upcoming album. the last thing you remembered from that day was watching the shoes strut out the dressing room door, wishing you had a pair.

you gasped, your hand instantly finding ymir’s forearm, unintentionally digging your nails into the skin. she winced, slapping your hand, looking at you as if you were a mad woman. “girl, what the hell?”

“ymir, you didn’t tell me eren knew connie fucking springer?” you raised an eyebrow, ymir’s eyes nearly bursting out of their sockets as she looked closer at the figure by eren. connie springer, the producer behind most of the albums released in the past four years, each of which had spent a considerable amount of time on the charts, was standing next to eren, who wasn't famous for much besides his parties and his performance in bed. they were casually chatting as if their conversation were completely ordinary.

“no fuckin’ way.” she whispered. while ymir was in full fangirl mode, completely captivated by the realization that connie's producer tag graced almost all of her favorite tracks, each one now infused with an extra layer of excitement seeing the talent behind them, connie and eren were looking in the direction where you and ymir stood. eren looked back and forth between you and connie, but connie’s eyes set on you. you felt small under his gaze even though he was at least twelve feet away from you, and the pool of interest settling into his golden orbs wasn’t visible, but you could feel it. he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his back pocket, and now, you were sure his attention was on you. he wore a smirk like no other as he took in each one of your unique features to the best of his ability, distance aside. you swallowed.

“yo, [♡], come here for a second!” eren shouted, his fingers making a motion, signaling for you. you froze, gripping that same spot on ymir’s arm. she stood by you in shock, yet a shit eating grin spread across her lips. she laughed, placing her hands on your shoulders, and pushing you in their direction. you wanted to move, not phased by the fact a famous person was in your vicinity, speaking with someone you had known for years, but more so in awe at the fact that they were likely–no, were, talking about you. it made you nervous and you never got nervous around people like him.

“go see what they want, scary ass!” she giggled, shoving you, earning a nasty scowl from you as you looked back.

you gave her the middle finger, the french tip acrylics on your nails making the gesture seem even more impactful. “you suck.”

a pit of nerves bubbled in your stomach as you made your way over to the pair, shoulders suddenly tense and your skirt riding higher with each step. attempting to look nonchalant, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket, ignoring how sweaty they grew as connie’s gaze became more apparent with every inch you moved. you tried to relax, only focusing on eren as connie’s eyes drilled holes into your head, as if he was daring you to look at him, to give him that attention he was so used to receiving. if anything, your refusal, unfamiliar to him, was intriguing. eren struggled to suppress a grin, his vibrant green eyes flickering playfully between you and connie, a glint of mischief twinkling in his gaze. “[♡], this is my boy, connie. you know him, right?”

you looked everywhere but connie’s eyes, settling on his lips but not before giving eren a stern look, nowhere near amused by his antics. “yeah, of course. i’ve seen him while working a few times too.” voice soft and sweet.

the man spoke, sending chills down your back as if it was the first time you’d heard his raspy, colorful tone. you’d heard him talk before, but it was nothing compared to how attractive he sounded now, speaking with deep intention and curiosity with a few simple words. five words melted off his tongue like honey. “but i don’t know you.”

you giggled, concealing that it was more of a nervous laugh. you weren’t the tallest, standing at five feet and four inches, but his lean figure was suddenly taller than it was two weeks ago, towering over you. he was confident as always, just on the brink of cockiness but in a way that made him so, so fine. and his thick accent was a whole other thing. “oh, i wouldn't expect you to, i'm just a makeup artist. i usually wear my mask with my clients, anyway.” you said, clearing your throat.

he closed the distance between you, the air thickening as the space between you vanished. by now, eren had walked off, somewhere with ymir watching the scene unfold, the pair giggling like school girls. the way he was moving gave you no choice but to look up into his eyes. he was finer in person, but up close and personal he was just as handsome as everyone said he was. his lips were somewhat full, a tiny freckle underneath the minty layer of chapstick on his lips. it was as if he didn’t blink, those long brown lashes making his golden eyes more appealing. he was tan, but a faint blush had crept onto his cheeks, natural or due to the lack of space between you two.

“you’re real pretty, you know that, ma?” the sudden nickname and compliment made you smile, and if your skin wasn’t that lovely shade of brown, he would’ve noticed blood rushing to your cheeks. people constantly flirted with you. you were the epitome of beauty. still, you'd be lying if you said hearing the praise come from connie didn't make you feel some type of way. “i definitely would have noticed you earlier. what's your name? eren already told me but i think i'd rather hear you say it.”

you crossed your arms as you laughed, your eyes raking up and down connie’s handsome exterior. “It's [♡]. and, thank you, mr. springer.”

he sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “why you callin’ me that? you don’t gotta be formal wit’ me.”

you shrugged, giggling as you kicked the rocks on the ground. “excuse me for being polite, constance.”

he cringed at the mention of his birth given name, sliding his hands into his front pockets as he relaxed his posture. he looked at you as if you were a dream come true, still awestruck at how beautiful you were, his inner thoughts more telling. in the back of his mind, he made mental notes of little details about you, storing them in the file cabinet of his head. your edges were neat and intact under the hot sun, still swooped as if you had just done them. when you talked, your lips sparkled, the glitter in the lip gloss sparkling with every movement you made. he didn’t intend for his gaze to wander lower than your chin, but he noticed how your thighs wobbled when you walked towards him earlier. you were so damn pretty. “yeah, aight. so what’s up with you? i saw you over there lookin’ all fine, i had to ask ej about you.”

“what did you wanna know?”

“all about you, but only you can tell me all that.” connie sat against his car, a black ferrari with bright orange rims, legs spread. 

“look, connie,” you started as you crossed your arms, shaking your head. he looked at you attentively, resisting how badly he wanted to pull you in by your hips and between his legs, “i don’t get involved with a lot of people. you’re cute and all, but you’re famous. i work with your crowd, but i know better than to get romantically involved with anyone. besides, thousands of girls around here would be begging to have you in the backseat of their cars if they knew you were here.”

it pained you to have to reject a man this fine, but it was no secret men in the industry were bad to fool around with. they were always unfaithful, liars, and ungrateful for whatever godsent woman they had in their lives, and you had always told yourself you’d never be one of those women getting dogged out and embarrassed. connie was about one of the finest men you’d ever met, but you had set limits for yourself. connie had never been in a relationship the entire time he was a star, avoiding paparazzi or nosy fans whenever he had a little fling. he was also raised better than his peers in the industry who thought of women as accessories, unbeknownst to you. that being said, the frown on his lips was unpleasant as you spoke. he didn’t want you to assume he was like the men who let their status get to their heads. he wanted you to know the connie he stayed faithful to his entire time in the spotlight. 

“i understand, hermosa, i do, but that isn’t me. i’m not some entitled cabron that gets around. believe me, i have nothing but pure intentions with a lady like you.” while it sounded sweeter than a sugar code coming off of his tongue, it was the standard talk a guy gave you when he wanted to convince you he was different and not like the rest. you had heard all of the lines before. you betted your lashes slowly as you observed connie as he spoke, attempting to find sincerity underneath his words. truthfully, if he wasn’t so cute, you would’ve walked away after saying your peace, but something about the pout on his lips kept you right where you were. “let me know you, girl.”

you took a step closer, now in between his legs, a smile on your lips. you thought you’d be a fool to believe anything he was saying. he was connie springer, a millionaire, and you were supposed to trust he was interested in you, a mere makeup artist from a block party he happened to think was pretty? still, you couldn’t deny how alluring the whole ordeal was. “i wish i could tell you yes, i really do.”

connie smiled sadly, the diamonds that decorated his canines waving at you. you were just about the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he would’ve taken the rejection a bit harder if you hadn’t given him the time of day. “so what, i’m supposed to just forget about your fine ass?.” he licked his lips slowly, his voice almost seductive. 

you paused to consider his question, suspecting that by the time he met another girl at the event, he would forget the encounter, and both of you would return to your separate lives. “that’s up to you.”

that same pink shade of blush from earlier crept back up to the apple of his cheeks. “fasho, then.”

“don't trip, you'll see me around." you began walking off, looking back at him one last time with those pretty eyes as if you’d never see him again before making your way back to ymir, not missing the way he eyed your behind in the denim skirt. "bye, connie.”

“bye, mami."

[brookediamonds]

Idea for a Sunshine!Axel x GrumpyReader fic :)

Reader and Axel are married and Reader finds out she’s pregnant and Axel takes care of her (goes into Shadow mode love that fic) throughout the pregnancy and then when the baby is born they’re a happy mess and they snuggle together with the baby. ☺️

Absolutely love your fics! Just thought of this after reading your fic about Axel and Reader being compared to Jackie and Shadow. 😊

one of me is cute, but two though?

Summary: It’s been 10 years since you and Axel graduated high school, and college. You're living your best married life when you discover you’ll be extending your family from 2 to 3. This is apart of my sunshine!Axel x grumpy!Reader trope.

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Mention of sex (hardly), pregnancy, axel being SOFT AF, sm fluff

gif is not mine

The moment you find out you're pregnant, your first reaction isn't some emotional, dramatic realization. It’s pure, deadpan disbelief.

You're in the bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand, waiting for your brain to catch up.

The two little lines feel like some kind of cosmic joke. You even shake the test a little, as if that’ll somehow change the result.

"…No way."

When had you... oh.

Yup, you remember, it was that morning when he said you were the most beautiful thing he could ever wake up to.

Even after four years of being married, he still made you feel like you were that blushing mess of a 17 year old girl.

You grab another test. Then another. And another. Five tests later, all lined up on the sink, all saying the same thing: you’re pregnant.

You exhale sharply, gripping the counter, your heart hammering. You should be panicking, right? Crying? Freaking out? But mostly, all you can think is:

Axel is going to lose his mind.

And not in a bad way. No, that’s the part that has you rubbing your temples.

Because the second you tell him, he’s going to be ecstatic. There will be spinning, hugging, probably a dozen kisses before he even lets you finish a full sentence.

And you? You’re not ready for that level of sunshine-fueled enthusiasm just yet.

So, you sit on the edge of the tub, running a hand down your face, muttering, "Oh my god, I’m about to be nested to hell and back."

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The holidays have just passed, it's the end of January which means it's breeding season for eagles.

Which also means you have Jackie and Shadow's live footage playing quietly on the tv as background noise as you and your own Shadow clean house for the week.

You saunter out of the mud room, basket in hands, as Axel lounged on the couch folding the clean bath towels.

"Round two," you announce plopping down the basket of fresh clean clothes in front of him.

Axel groans dramatically but doesn’t argue, because he’s whipped and he knows it. "We have too much clothes."

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and move on to start a new task.

He starts folding lazily—one of his hoodies, one of your shirts—until his hands land on something unfamiliar.

A new t-shirt.

He holds it up, brow furrowing as he reads the words: "The New Shadow."

At first, he just blinks at it. Confused. Squints at the design. It's Shadow the eagle printed on to the blue shirt.

He glances at the TV, where Jackie and Shadow are in their nest. Then back at the shirt. Then at you, still busy across the room.

Huh.

And then it hits him.

His entire body freezes. His breath catches. His hands tighten around the fabric.

His head snaps up.

"Wait." His voice comes out weird. Strangled.

You don’t turn around.

"What?" You ask feinging innocence, back facing him as you keep tidying the kitchen counter.

Axel stares at you, eyes blown wide, his heart pounding.

"What… what does this mean?" He holds the shirt up like it’s the holy grail.

You pause, slowly turning to face him. Finally, you glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with a knowing look.

And that’s all it takes.

"Oh my god—"

He explodes off the couch, nearly tripping over the basket in his rush to get to you.

"Are you serious?!" His hands land on your waist, his whole face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy.

You bite back a smile, tilting your head. "Well… yeah."

Axel makes a sound, a mix between a laugh and something breathless, almost disbelieving.

And then he’s hugging you, practically crushing you against his chest, kissing your temple, your cheek, your everything.

"I knew it," he breathes against your skin, completely overwhelmed. "I knew I had to start nesting you."

You groan, half-laughing, pushing at his chest. "Axel—"

You stare up at Axel, still half-squished against his chest as he clings to you in pure excitement.

But his words linger in your head, and after a second, your eyes narrow.

"Wait, what do you mean you knew it?" You pull back just enough to look at him, suspicious. "How, exactly, did you 'know'?"

Axel smirks, smug as hell, still clutching the shirt in one hand. "Baby, it was obvious."

"Obvious?" You raise an eyebrow.

He nods confidently. "Yeah. You were sleepier than usual—like, more than just your normal up-too-late-watching-tik-toks tired."

You scoff. "That proves nothing."

His grin widens. "And! You’ve been craving the weirdest stuff. You ate pickles with peanut butter the other day—"

You glare up at him. "That was one time and it was delicious."

"—and you literally teared up watching the eagle cam because Jackie and Shadow were being 'good parents,'" he continues, completely ignoring your interjection.

Your mouth opens, but you pause. Okay, fine, maybe you had gotten a little emotional over the eagles lately, but still.

"And, you’ve been all over me lately," Axel says, smirking to himself

"I am not!" You gawk pulling away from his grasp completely.

He nods, still way too smug. "Oh yeah. Extra cuddly. Holding my hand all the time. Literally climbed into my lap while I was trying to do push-ups last week."

You can't help the way your face heats up at his mention of you drooling all over him while he was working out. He was shirtless, can you blame a girl?

"So I had a moment of weakness, so what?" You attempt to play it off.

Axel tilts his head, grinning. "And what about two nights ago when you rolled onto me in your sleep and refused to let go? I tried moving, and you growled at me."

You scoff, rolling your eyes at his dramatic statement. "I did not growl."

"Mmmrh, nooo, stay," he mimics you, low and dramatic.

You shove his arm, but he just laughs, catching your hand and lacing his fingers through yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his smile softening.

"I didn’t mind," he adds, quieter this time. "I liked it."

You hate how that makes your heart flutter.

With a grumble, you sink back against him, grumpily accepting his warmth. "I don’t get all over you."

Axel beams down at you in his hold. "You so do."

"God, you’re annoying," you mutter, tucking your face into his chest.

Axel just chuckles, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. "Yeah, yeah. But you still love me."

You sigh, eyes closing, nuzzling further into his warm chest. "Unfortunately."

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You don’t know why you're crying.

You knew this was happening. You took the test. You surprised Axel with the dumb little Shadow shirt. You’ve gone to the doctor.

You’ve felt different. But somehow, none of it hit you quite like this.

You stand in front of the mirror, fresh out of the shower, towel-drying your hair, when you finally see it.

Your stomach isn’t flat anymore. It’s not huge, not even close, but the difference is there, subtle but undeniable.

You run your fingers over the small curve, stomach twisting in a way that has nothing to do with nausea.

It’s real.

You’re having a baby.

Axel’s baby.

Your eyes sting before you can stop them, and when the first tear falls, it feels ridiculous.

You never cry over things like this. You’re not soft. You’re not emotional. And yet, here you are, standing in the bathroom in one of Axel’s oversized shirts, sniffling over the smallest bump imaginable.

"Hey, babe, what do you want for—" he stops mid-step, freezing in the doorway when he sees you.

You're standing in just your underwear and one of his old shirts that's being held up by your hands to reveal your stomach, eyes glassy as you stare at your reflection.

Axel’s brows furrow immediately.

"Hey, what’s wrong?" He crosses the room without hesitation, voice softening as he reaches for you.

You shake your head, wiping at your face. "It’s nothing."

Axel hums, unconvinced.

"Mm. Okay." He doesn’t press, just comes up behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

His voice is gentle when he asks, "What’re you looking at?"

You swallow, glancing down at yourself again. You don’t even know how to put it into words.

"I just… " you exhale, another tear slipping free as you let your hands fall over his, guiding them to your stomach. "…I’m showing."

Axel’s breath catches. You feel it more than you hear it, the way his chest hitches behind you, his fingers splaying out over your bump.

For a second, he’s completely still. Then, slowly, carefully, his hands move, thumbs brushing along your stomach like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

"Wow," he exhales, almost breathless. "That’s our baby."

Your throat tightens. "Yeah."

Axel is quiet for a moment, just taking you in, eyes full of something warm and unshakable.

Then you look up at him, voice small.

"Do you think I’ll be a good mom?"

His head snaps down to you, brows pulling together like the very thought of you doubting yourself is ridiculous.

"Are you kidding?" He turns you in his arms, hands sliding to cradle your face. "You’re gonna be an amazing mom."

"Really?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him through your tears.

"Absolutely," Axel responds without hesitation. "I love you so much, and together I know we'll be great parents."

A wet laugh bubbles out of you, and Axel grins, swiping his thumbs under your eyes.

"I love you too," you say quietly.

You and Axel admire your new bump for the next thirty minutes until you feel your usual self begin to surface, and kicking you both out of the bathroom to get lunch.

Later that night, you're back to your usual self, getting ready for bed with your husband.

The weight of the day has eased, replaced by something warm, something steady.

Your mind is clear, your emotions balanced again, and Axel is right there beside you, where he always is.

Axel, however, is not getting in bed just yet.

Instead, he’s fussing over your side of the bed, fluffing up your pillow, smoothing out the blankets, even adjusting the mattress slightly like it’s going to make a difference.

You watch in amusement as he steps back, hands on his hips, assessing his work.

"Are you done nesting?" you tease him.

Axel narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t argue. "Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable."

You shake your head, climbing into bed, and the second you’re settled, Axel follows, snuggling up beside you.

But just as he’s about to wrap himself around you like usual, he hesitates. His hand hovers just above your stomach, unsure.

You roll your eyes before grabbing his wrist and pressing his hand there yourself.

Axel exhales, his whole body relaxing as his fingers splay over your bump, warmth radiating from his palm.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just strokes his thumb in slow, careful circles, like he’s still trying to grasp that this is real.

"I can’t wait to meet them," he says ever so quietly.

Your heart clenches, and this time, it’s not overwhelming. It’s just love.

"Me too," you whisper back, curling further into him.

Axel shifts, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before tucking you closer. And as sleep starts to pull you under, his hand never moves from where it rests over your belly, like it belongs there.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The first night home with your daughter is a blur of exhaustion and quiet awe.

The house is dim, the world outside is still, and the only sound is the soft, steady breaths of the tiny bundle nestled between you and Axel.

She’s so small. Her little fingers curl into the fabric of Axel’s shirt, her tiny chest rising and falling in the most delicate rhythm.

It’s been hours since you both climbed into bed, but neither of you have been able to take your eyes off her.

You’re lying on your side, one arm tucked under your head, the other resting protectively near your daughter.

Axel mirrors you, his head propped up on his hand, his free arm curled around both of you like he can physically shield you from the world.

For once, he’s quiet. No teasing, no playful comments, just watching. His gaze is soft, reverent, his fingers ghosting over your daughter’s tiny hand.

"We made that," you murmur after moment.

Axel lets out a breathless laugh, like it���s just now hitting him.

"Yeah," he whispers. "We did."

His eyes flicker to you, and there’s something unbelievable in them, like he still can’t quite process the fact that you’re here, that she’s here, that he gets to have this life.

You nudge him lightly with your foot under the covers. "Still think I’m your most prized nest item?"

Axel grins, his dimple showing even in the dim light.

"You both are," he says leaning in, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple. "But she’s definitely trying to steal your title."

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. Not when you're this tired. Not when your heart feels this full.

There’s a long stretch of silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the baby monitor and the occasional shuffle of blankets.

And then, barely above a whisper, Axel asks, "Would you still love me if we were eagles, babe?"

You exhale a soft, amused breath, your eyelids growing heavier. "I just went through labor, Axel. Of course I’d still love you if we were eagles."

He grins, pulling you just a little closer. Axel's voice is softer now, more certain as he looks between you and the tiny life you’ve created together.

His fingers brush over your daughter's little hand again before he whispers, "We did good, my Jackie."

Your heart squeezes at the quiet affection in his words, the weight of everything settling between you. With a tired smile, you shift closer, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

"Shadow would be proud," you murmur, voice full of warmth.

Axel feels his heart ache at your statement and chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

In the peaceful stillness of your home, wrapped up in love and exhaustion, you and Axel stay like that—holding each other, holding her, caught in the quiet magic of everything you've built together.

─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Masterlist

Taglist: @ggrgcribg

(a/n: ughhh i loved this one, and i love jackie and shadow, they have become my new hyper fixation 🥹 thank you for this request!!)

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

one of my many drabbles…. i don’t really have anything further for this but i think it’s fun and can’t bear to delete it. featuring leon hr nightmare kennedy and vibrators.

You might not be cut out for customer service. You, for one, love basic respect for the establishment you work for and love receiving respect, because you’re a normal human being.

What you don’t love is being on your feet for eight or more hours a day, you don’t like shitty tips, you hate cleaning up the dining room when you’re stuck on dining, you don’t enjoy having to get your manager because you missed something (you’re not a mind reader, table ten should’ve told you to your face they want you to die instead of complaining to said manager) or just bc they want to complain and throw their weight around.

Leon’s suggestion—both for the rejuvenation of your relationship, since your hours are frequently opposite—was something to take the edge off.

When he said he had a present for you, you were hoping for some bath salts so you could have a nice bath after long days, or those bunny hair clips you made an offhand comment about (which were in the box, along with a discreet vibrator designed for dual stimulation).

“Leon, what the hell?” You ask after a long moment of staring unseeing at the box.

“Well…” He smooths a hand along your waist. “I was thinking about ways to make you relax at work. Even when I’m in the kitchen, I can feel you stalking around the dining room, baby.”

“I don’t stalk.” You mutter in offense, unable to help making a face. “I stew, it’s different, you little motherfucking-pieceashit—“ you cut yourself off as you finagle open the box. You discard the wrapping and pull open the u-shaped vibrator.

When you look up, your boyfriend looks vaguely amused.

“It was being difficult.” You say after another long moment, weighing the silicone back in your hand.

“Baby,” Leon snakes his arms around your waist, sharp chin on your shoulder digging into the sore trapezius. When you make a displeased noise, he kisses the muscle in apology. “Do you know how many complaints I get from customers about your mouth?”

“Oh, come on.” You scoff, turning your head to give him a displeased look. “You have to swear like a sailor to work in a restaurant, that’s one of the, like, unspoken rules. You don’t seem to mind my mouth, anyway.”

[goldenbtrfly]

Family Home - Tan

Family Home Tan - No CC - Under 25k

I realized I hadn’t cross-posted this home to Tumblr yet, so I figured I should. :) If something is messed up, please let me know!

Here we have another Family Home, as usual under 25k in price and designed to house a full family - in this case a family of 5. Built in the mind-frame of three teens and parents living here, each teen (or child) has their own bedroom - complete with desk for homework! The kitchen is small, but functional and there are two full bathrooms to use (one with a shower and one with a tub). The living room has ample space to move around and watch TV, and even has an extra desk (perhaps for a computer). Pictures of the kids bedrooms are taken in twos - mainly because this wallpaper cuts off at the top and I wanted to show that I did use edged paper.

I hope your Sims enjoy this as much as I did building it. I really like this one.

This home has:

4 bedrooms.

2 full baths (one with a shower and one with a tub).

Fire alarm, burglar alarm, and phone.

Minimal landscaping to keep the cost inside rather than outside!

No CC was used, but all EPs/SPs are installed.

Lot Size: 2x2 Lot Price (furnished): 24988

Additional Credits: Thank you: joandsarah77 for the lot and the Community Spirit Contest, which have both greatly improved my creativity!

Download at SimFileShare or MTS. More pictures below!

[thisismeracing]

Congratulations on 1k <3

Mick + drunk + fluff

Drunk | MS47

⸺ the one where your favorite driver drunkenly confesses his love to you. ✓ mentions of alcohol and food.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (CLOSED) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

Mick was usually a very composed guy. He was often the designated driver whenever their friends decided to party, and when he wasn't, he still wouldn't get hammered. That's why Yn was so confused when she opened her door only to find her friend and, at some point, a coworker barely standing in front of her house.

"Mick?" she asked, confusion written all over her face.

"Hi, Yn. Wie gehts?" he slurred, starting to use his native language, and Yn frowned even deeper.

"I'm ok, I guess. You...not so much eh?"

She took a step back and motioned for him to get in, which he did stumbling inside and leaving his shoes at the entrance.

"How'd you get here?"

"So many questions," he mumbled jokingly rolling his eyes, or trying to because he was so drunk Yn swore that wasn't a proper eye roll. "I ubered here, or someone did... I dunno."

Yn took a deep breath and went to her kitchen to get the kettle ready. He would need the strongest cup of coffee and the coldest bath, and she would give it to him because if the roles were reversed Mick would sure take care of her, no questions asked.

"Wait, don't leave me alone, Yn." He stepped into the kitchen behind her and almost fell trying to sit on one of her stools.

"I had no idea you were this needy when drunk," Yn joked and Mick didn't answer. His hands were on the marble counter and he was watching with lazy eyes her every move.

They met when Mick started in F1. Yn worked with Mercedes and was close friends with Esteban, so it wasn't a surprise when they hit it off from the start. Once Mick went to Mercedes, they became even closer, and what used to be platonic, started having its own space in Yn's heart. She was in love with Mick.

What she didn't know at the time was that Mick was in love with her too.

"I had to talk to you."

"And it couldn't wait until you were sober?" she quipped.

"No, I'm terrified I'm-" Yn's coffee machine started its crazy noise swallowing what Mick was about to confess.

He directed his blue eyes to his palm, and he could almost hear a small and sober part of himself screaming that this was not a good idea, that she probably wouldn't be into him that way.

"Let's go, you're getting into the shower. I think I have a sweatpant that's going to fit you just right," she clicked something on the machine and started walking to the corridor.

Mick followed her in his drunk haze, just like he would follow her sober. Lance even joked once about how he looked like a found lost puppy while trailing behind Yn in the paddock.

"Can you hold yourself? Shower without falling in my bathroom or destroying it?"

"Of course!" His offended face made Yn chuckle.

When she reached the door, ready to leave him be, Mick's muffled voice called for her.

"I can shower, but I think I'll need some help with this shirt..." and sure enough Yn turned around to see Mick's torso on display while his head was stuck on his shirt.

Yn's laughter boomed around the walls of the bathroom, and she could almost hear Mick doing the same and being interrupted by a hiccup. She reached for the shirt and detangled him before quickly turning around and leaving, trying to ignore how intimate it felt to take care of him in such a vulnerable state.

While Mick showered to sober up, Yn got him coffee, some crackers, and hungover pills for he would definitely wake up with his head pounding the next morning.

When she walked into the room, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, a towel on his broad shoulders and some droplets of water running from his back to his waist, stopping at the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing.

"Gotcha some food and coffee to help you sober up, are you feeling any better?" Yn asked, settling the tray on her nightstand.

"I love you," he whispered, and she was thankful her hands were free because otherwise, she would have dropped everything on her bedroom floor.

And, of course, part of her tried to tell her that it was the kind of 'I love you' you tell your best friend, but the second their eyes met Yn knew exactly what kind of confession that was.

"You're drunk, Mick..."

"I'm in love with you, Yn." He started again. "I have been since my first year in the grid, and I'm sorry I'm saying it like this, but-" he hiccups interrupting his own rambling, and then they're both laughing.

There's some kind of relief in finally sharing the truth, letting it free to go around.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, ok?"

"But...do you love me back? You don't even have to love me, you can just like me, do you like me back? I- I've never done this before, how does one ask if the other is in love too, but without sounding like a fool? Or is it just because I'm still a bit drunk?"

Yn giggled, rolling her eyes and carding her fingers to his blonde mop of hair that was still damp from the cold shower. She dipped down and kissed his forehead, and Mick closed his eyes enjoying the caress of her lips on his skin.

"I'm in love with you too, your dork."

"Can you kiss me?"

"We're not having our first kiss with you drunk," she shook her head.

"Oh- Scheiße!- that's actually true! Mhm but wait," Mick holds his pointer finger up as if he's about to state something, and Yn takes a step back to watch him attentively. "I just crashed your cozy Friday night at home- do you still love me? After taking care of me drunk? After I put you through all this trouble?"

Yn rolled her eyes, kissed the tip of his nose, and added, "Yes, Mick Schumacher, I still love you."

"Even after I accidentally dropped and spilled half of your shampoo on the bathroom floor?"

"Ye- Wait WHAT?"

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: That was a bit longer than I anticipated lol 1k words, but I hope you guys like it!! yay *forehead kiss* Don't forget to like and reblog this piece!

[adaobiiii]

────── Behind The Runway ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

───────────────────── 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ✧˚.⋆ 14 A Date?

Marinette was laying in her bed, face pressed deep into her pillow. She was fighting the urge to stay there all day and do nothing. She had to design her dress for the upcoming showcase, but she had no idea where to start. While Adrien’s idea of basing it off her favorite fashion game was genius, she didn’t even want to set the game up in the first place.

Rolling onto her stomach, she stared at the ceiling. Adrien. It had been a little over a month since they’d spoken at the Café Procope. She smiled at the thought—he had truly meant it when he said he’d do anything to earn her trust again.

The very next day, he had shown up at her house, and they talked—really talked—about everything. They practiced setting boundaries, ensuring people like Lila couldn’t manipulate him again. At school, he had even moved to the back of the classroom, where Marinette and her friends sat. Whatever he had said to Felix in the following days must have been effective, because the two blondes were now surprisingly amicable.

Now, a month had passed. Adrien, somehow, had figured out she was MDC within two weeks—not that she minded—and had fully integrated into her little group of friends: herself, Chloé, Kagami, Luka, Adrien, and Felix.

Felix.

She didn’t want to admit it, especially after denying Chloé’s relentless claims about her ‘Felinette’ agenda, but she definitely had feelings for him.

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe when he first transferred to their classroom and immediately called Lila out on her lies. Maybe it was the way he always, subtly but surely, positioned himself between her and any potential trouble. Or maybe—

Maybe it was because he was currently standing in her doorway, silently judging her while eating a chocolate croissant.

Marinette sat up immediately, rubbing her eyes. “Why are you…?” she trailed off as he stepped into her room and perched himself on the edge of her bed.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t forget basic human necessities while working on your dress,” he replied smoothly, offering her the other half of his croissant.

She took it without hesitation. “I don’t even know where to start,” she mumbled between bites.

Felix nodded as if he had already predicted this. “I had a feeling,” he mused, rummaging through his bag before pulling out a vintage Canon camera and setting it beside her. “Which is why I brought this.”

Marinette raised a brow. “And how exactly is this supposed to help me, Feli?”

“We’re going out,” he stated simply. “You’re going to take as many photos as you can until something inspires you.”

Marinette blinked, then slowly smiled as ideas began to take shape in her mind. “I like where this is going. Thanks, Feli.”

Felix turned his head away slightly, but not before she caught the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. His fingers idly toyed with a loose thread on his sleeve. “So… it’s a date, then?” he murmured, almost too casually.

Marinette’s brain stalled. “A—A date?” She snapped her head towards him, but he was already rising to his feet, making his way to the kitchen.

“I’m making pancakes. Get ready.” His voice was maddeningly indifferent, but he kept his face turned away as he left the room.

--- 1 Hour Time Skip ---

Paris was breathtaking in the late afternoon.

The sun bathed the streets in golden hues, and the faint chill of early spring lingered in the air. Marinette adjusted the camera strap around her neck as she stood on a cobblestone bridge overlooking the Seine. She exhaled, pressing the shutter button as she captured the gentle ripples in the water.

“This was a good idea,” she admitted, glancing at Felix beside her.

“I’m aware,” he said simply, sipping his coffee.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. They had spent the last hour wandering through the city, stopping at whatever caught Marinette’s attention. Felix had been content to follow along, carrying her coat when she got warm and handing her a fresh roll of film when she ran out.

At one point, she stopped in front of a boutique with an elaborate stained-glass window. The way the sunlight streamed through it, casting colorful reflections onto the sidewalk, made her breath hitch. She lifted the camera, snapping a shot before turning to Felix. “What do you think?”

He examined the display before meeting her gaze. “It suits you.”

Marinette tilted her head. “The window?”

“No.” He held her gaze, unblinking. “The light.”

Her stomach flipped.

She quickly busied herself with adjusting the focus on her camera. “You’re being weirdly poetic today,” she muttered, willing her heart to stop hammering in her chest.

Felix merely hummed, glancing down at her with an almost knowing expression. “We should keep moving. You’re not done yet.”

They continued their walk, winding through narrow streets and bustling squares. Marinette took pictures of intricate iron balconies, the way the afternoon light hit the rooftops, and the soft, warm glow of vintage street lamps beginning to flicker to life. Each shot felt more purposeful, more inspired.

At some point, Felix took the camera from her hands. “You need to be in at least one of these,” he remarked, adjusting the settings with practiced ease before pointing the lens at her.

Marinette instinctively raised a hand to protest, but he only smirked. “Just one.”

She sighed dramatically but relented, leaning against the railing of a bridge. Felix took the picture, then checked the preview with an approving nod before handing the camera back.

She peeked at the screen, her lips parting slightly. He had captured her at just the right moment—the golden light framing her face, her hair tousled slightly by the breeze. It looked… beautiful.

“See?” he said, eyes scanning her reaction. “Told you the light suits you.”

She looked up at him then, properly looked at him. And for the first time, she let herself acknowledge the way her heart ached—how much it always seemed to ache around him.

The realization settled over her like the setting sun. Maybe Chloé had been onto something after all.

Felix cleared his throat and checked his watch. “It’s getting late. We should get you home before Chloé starts sending threats.”

Marinette laughed, nudging his arm playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

As they walked back, camera in hand, she knew one thing for sure—this was definitely a date.

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A / N : Yea soooo Adrien is good nowww (If you didn't get it there has been like a months time-skip since the last chapter) He was super straight forward when switching to marinette's side too so the group likes him <3. In this au Sabrina is also on marinette's side BUT like i mentioned in the story she's training for police stuff in Nyc so her appearance may come later :D