#excited to see them if you decide to post :D

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

Marius, receiving a shitty scam letter with a bunch of misspellings that obviously came from Thénardier:

[stalkedandblocked]

camgirl!reader x sevika

tw. reader and sevika are live, regular au (?? i have no idea how to word it 😭) masturbation (reader), strap on, fingering, cunnilingus (giving and receiving), sevika puts you in a headlock, squirting, overstim, sucking the strap

while in college you get a little bored of your mundane life, and with some free time during the night and also in need of some more money you start an only fans account. after growing quite a following you decide to do a raffle to stream with one of your fans to make things more interesting.

a/n: this took so long holy moly. i hope y’all liked this because this is one of my first times writing a full fic <3 like and reblog if ur a real sevika truther :D

with your tripod and camera on your bed infront of you, you moan, “mmmf… im so close,” you arch your back off the bed as you press the vibrator harder onto your clit. you spread your legs wider, giving a show to the camera. “fuck- oh my god,” your hips start bucking and you throw your head back, you moan and cry as your orgasm hits you, the painful feeling of overstimulation comes quickly but you keep the vibrator on your pussy and your whole body trembles through your orgasm. panting like a dog, you finally turn off the vibrator and place it to the side.

you lift your shaky body and sit on your knees in front of the camera, putting your hands in your lap to squeeze your breast together. you start to announce the little idea you had. messages are spammed in the chat, asking for you to chose them, that they’ll even send money for you to choose them, and asking about what you mean by this. you only giggle and say, “it’s just a thought you pervs, i thought it might be fun to chose one of you randomly and see if you’d be interested in streaming with me.”

the chat dies down on the questions and you say a few more words to say goodbye, before ending the stream by blowing them a kiss.

after hopping in the shower and getting yourself clean, you change into some comfy pajamas before making a post on your page.

‘hi to all my fans! i’m so glad you guys were interested in my proposal, if your in the area dm me for a chance to stream with me ;), i can’t wait!’ after pressing send you turn your phone off and head to bed, hoping that hopefully this won’t be a mistake, and that whoever you chose isn’t entirely horrendous looking.

the next day you check your phone, a couple hundred dm’s are in your inbox. most being people from far away asking if they can fly out but you stick to your word, you find one from an account who sent their address. “let’s see what this person has to offer” you think to yourself. you text back and forth before ultimately asking for a photo of them holding some id next to them so you know they’re not lying about their identity.

a while passed before the account responds, there was no indication about who this person might be so your surprised to see a woman, another notifications sends and it’s a photo of her id attached. you look closer at it, her names sevika, she’s quite a bit older than you, but that didn’t bother you. you ponder for a bit, you’ve never had sex with a woman, but was not opposed to the idea. but yes, even thought the photo of herself is a bit awkward, even reminding you of a parents facebook photo which makes you laugh to yourself a bit, she is very attractive. and from what you can see she seems quite muscular.

“alright”, and you send her an address of a restaurant near both of your homes and tell her to meet you there tomorrow and 4pm.

the next day, you put on a simple going out outfit, nothing to make it obvious your meeting a stranger to fuck her, then head out the door. as you walk to the restaurant you feel butterflies, obviously you had only even been with men, but she was, well, very sexy you thought. the idea excited you but also made you nervous.

as you sat at a table and tell the waitress your waiting for somone, another walks into the restaurant. you miss her face but her hair is tied half up and it’s short, a few inches above her shoulder. she’s also is very tall. you gulp, from what you remember that looks like her. she scans the restaurant before you make eye contact. she walks over to you and sits across from you.

“you must be sevika,” you smile, feeling more nervous than you expected to be. when she responds her voice is deep and smooth, her words are almost seductive. compared to your messages and how she talks to you she seems much more ready and nonchalant about this whole situation in real life. everything about her attracts you, “so did you have any ideas of when you’d like to.. ahem” you try to keep your voice down so no one hears and gets any ideas, “..stream”.

sevika is lazily leaning back in her char, legs nudged open a bit. she leans over the table, resting her arms on it, “i’m ready whenever you are.” you have no idea if she meant to make you flustered, or tried to make it sound sexy but her words melt you brain almost. you stand quickly and grab her arm, “let’s do it today, let’s do it now!” you squeal out before your dragging her out of the restaurant.

sevika had driven so she directs you to her car, you drive to your house and you walk up the stair together after she grabs a bag out of the back of her car. your whole body is warm and fuzzy with excitement. “i usually wear some lingerie when i start, as you probably know. would you like some or do you want to start naked?” you ask, grabbing a matching to set to change into.

“naked.” she responds, she watches as you walk to the bathroom to change. you throw a robe out of the bathroom so she can cover herself before you start. you come out in your set, wearing a robe as well. she sits on your bed watching, “let me set up the camera and then we can begin. did you have anything in mind on what we want to do, what we want to follow?”

“i have ideas for later, but let’s not worry about that now.”

you begin the stream, sevika sits naked on your bed, and you take the robe off infront of the camera. sevika places a hand on your hip guiding you to her lap before you crawl over her. each touch feels like sparks, your already soaked and anticipating what’s gonna happen. you grab eachother and start kissing, her tongue runs over your lip and your lips crash against each other. you sit down on her lap and slowly move your hips over her muscular thighs, you moan into her mouth. “that’s a good girl,” she praises, before continuing to kiss you.

she grabs your hips roughly, helping them move back and forth, you arch and moan for her. your chat is going crazy, some even shocked that it’s another woman. she stops your grinding and lifts your hips up a bit before dragging her thick finger up and down your slit. both of you seem like you forgot that your streaming and just enjoy each others bodies. she rubs your clit in circles, making your toes curl. she takes you from on top of her and flips you to face the camera, spreading your legs, the exposing position making you even wetter. she slides your panties to the side so the camera can see your wet cunny, she starts rubbing circles on your clit makes you throw your head back.

she chuckles at you, “don’t make me hold you head up. already so sensitive, huh?” her mocking words make you moan once more, she begins teasing your hole before nudging her index and middle finger into you. her fingers are so thick and long, your already seeing stars, “fuck! yes! right there sevika, oh my god-” you scream out as she adds her ring finger inside. your juices leak all over her lap and hand. your head leans against her and you mewl into her ear, begging to cum. as you finally start to reach your orgasm she pulls out her fingers and slaps your pussy.

“fuck!” you cry out as your body reacts to your ruined orgasm, sevika chuckles. you breathe heavily as sevika manhandles your basically limp body, laying it on the bed, she starts pulling down your panties and the slick dripping between your legs is more visible than ever. you arch your back slightly off the bed and she unclips your bra, she stops what she’s doing and stares at them. you giggle and can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or because of her expression, like she’s almost captivated. your breasts fall from the bra and lay prettily on display, which sevika quickly takes advantage of and begins to suck at on of your nipples and knead the other. you let at small moans while kisses litter your tits.

she lifts her head up and smirks “are you ready?” she asks, with having no idea what she’s talking about, you eagerly nod. she begins moving her body over yours and places her bare pussy on your face, letting down all her weight, then spreading your legs and burrying her face in your own cunt. your almost shocked by this, she starts teasing the tip of her tongue on your clit, before diving it into your hole, tongue fucking you and hitting all the good spots in your pussy. you moan against her cunt and try to copy her actions. you suck her clit and lap your tongue up and down her pussy, you squeeze around her tongue in response to her moaning. it’s low and vibrates through your whole body. it’s not long before you cum because of the previous teasing she had done earlier. you squeeze your legs around her head and buck up, trying to keep up the pace with how your lapping her pussy, but inevitably struggle from how your body is shaking against her face.

sevika places one last sloppy kiss to your clit then raises herself, and grinds against your face until she orgasms, gripping onto your hair. the moans she lets out makes your pussy ache.

while coming down form your high you lay next to each other panting, forgetting about the stream itself. “you okay, baby?” sevika asks, places kisses on your neck. “mhm,” you mumble, relaxing into the bed as she kisses you. “well, i think it’s time for what i had planned for earlier”, she gets up and disappears off camera. across the room she pulls something out of her bag that she had grabbed earlier. she begins to attach something to her hips, and before you know it she’s standing over you with a strap on.

it’s so thick and long, you gulp. not even with any men had you had to take something for big. “i know your wet enough but, i don’t think this is” sevika lets out a sly smile. her height already towers over you, so even standing and you sitting in the bed has you face to face with it. “suck it.” she orders and obediently you do. you place your hands around it, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes, and slowly thrust your mouth down onto it. she stares down at you and bites her lip. you bob your head up and down, slowly reaching down with each thrust, your throat adjusts around it and you gag against it and sevika laughs. she places one hand on your head to tug at your hair. once you finally reach down the base she holds your head down. the length makes your eyes tear up as you gag even more.

she pulls your hair back until your off of it and pushes you down to the bed. still grasping your hair she puts your face down into the pillows and keeps your ass up before crawling over you. she has your face infront of the camera and wraps her arm around you. her thick biceps flex as she grabs the strap to line it up at your cunt. she wastes no time pushing it in, when she bottoms out your eyes roll back and without even moving it feels almost heavenly. she starts thrusting slowly before they become almost rapid, her arm squeezes around your throat even more and you moan and gasp. “taking it like such a good little slut,” she purred. you let out a messy smile and your moans just couldn’t stop coming out. they way it felt against your g-spot and pounded into you made your toes curl.

“se-sevika!” you drooled, “i’m gonna cum, please! hah, keep going!” you screamed, sevika took no time and started pounding into you more, her free arm rubbing your clit, fast circles against the puffy aching bud. your body shook and your eyes rolled back into your head, sevika thought they might never go back. you cried out before you finally squirted all over yourself and the bed, the liquid covering your stomach, the sheets and sevikas hand. “holy shit” sevika gasped at the reaction to your orgasm. your whole body was stiff and shaking, your mouth tried to let out moans but nothing came out as your eyes rolled back as hard as they could. your body went limp onto the bed, sevika pulled out of you, a line of slick breaking as the contact broke. you whined at the sudden emptiness.

she grabs the camera and faces it towards you, she spreads your weak legs showing the amount of cum that had leaked from your hole and everything that had dripped onto the sheets and between your thighs. “took it like the good slut she is,” she grabbed a handful of your ass and let out a laugh before she abruptly ended the stream.

she threw the camera onto the bed carelessly, then asked, “so, want to meet again next week?”

[beloveds-embrace]

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐚' 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐬!

synopsis- dared by nobara, Yuji decides to pull a prank on their physics professor— gojo satoru, infamous for his wickedly handsome face and his notorious mouth. He spikes gojo’s coffee with a few pills of viagra, suppressing the jolts of illegal excitement bubbling up his veins— which soon dies when gojo offers the cup of coffee to you instead.

warnings- college!au, SMUT, physics professor gojo with huge d, you having a hopeless crush on gojo, nobamaki as your sidekick, age gap(6yrs), use of APHRODISIACS, oral male receiving, mutual masturbation, SQUIRTING, CHOKING, unprotected sex(sort of), VOYEURISM, I feel sorry for Yuji, cursing, dirty talk, some great latin words.

w.c- 4.8k

a/n's note- Yuji will always be remembered as my brave soldier! Next will be nanami in the series!! i hope you like it. comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! Taglist is open!

“Professor gojo is always a hot topic for the girls” nobara stated blandly to her senior maki, sitting opposite to her at their regular corner cafeteria table. 

Maki rolls her eyes at the statement, unable to pinpoint what exactly girls like about their professor. Even you— her best friend has an insatiable crush on him. She unwrapped her chicken cheese burger taking a huge bite before muffling “yeah, nothing new…”.

Gojo Satoru, your physics professor, has been a topic of constant gossip ever since he joined the university. He was surprisingly young, menacingly handsome and had a notorious way with his tongue. His carefree attitude and indelible impression caused students to mark him as the— infamous professor among the trio of young havocs. 

Girls swarmed around him sprawling new tattles each day. And another one that randomly popped out at the chatter page of your university was— professor gojo having an extremely high sex drive. 

An anon posted it in the forum and disappeared and it blew up overnight. People agreed over online, some simping, some getting disgusted or jealous(mainly boys), and some concocting new scandals having seen him going out with two different women in one day. 

Today was no different. The chatter forums have been buzzing with news and rumors and among them the trending one was professor gojo’s libido discussions. 

Nobara dragged her finger down the screen of her phone, refreshing the page hoping to see something new. “I can't believe they don't have any better discussions other than this.” Her disappointment was clearly visible as ‘gojolibido’ thingy still remained at its position on the top. 

she placed her phone down on the table, sipping up the last of her drink. 

Yuji leaned back in his armchair, his head resting against the cool metal frame, his body partially slouched. His crumpled paper wraps of sandwich sat messy on the table, “come to think of it, professor gojo never declines any of the stuff…” 

The college rumors spread like gasoline set ablaze. There was little to no chance of him not being aware of the sizzling situation. 

Maki dropped her half eaten burger, placing her elbows on the table top leaning in a bit. “He probably enjoys it.” 

And maybe he does. There are sure subtle hints. The slight curve of the corner of his lips when students gawk at him as he walks past them, hearing them fawning over him. Or the smug side eye he gives to his male students— almost satirical. Or the infamous way of his wicked tongue, it's as if he was mocking them. 

No one can say for sure. 

“If that's the case I'm sure he wouldn't mind some pranks too…” Yuji straightens up half joking. “What do you mean?” asks maki. 

“Like some pulling up a bold act…” he suggested, stretching his arms out before letting them fall on his thighs, rubbing his palms over the rough fabric.

“Woah!” Nobara almost jumped up in excitement, looking at Yuji as if he finally had some sense knocked in his head, “And here I thought Itadori never grew a brain,” she sprinted her head to maki who was gnawing on her burger. 

“How ‘bout we get y/n pull something on gojo sensei?” 

“Bruh—” maki leaned back in her seat, narrowing her eyes as a little smirk crawled up her face. 

You've had a crush on professor gojo. And this was no secret from your friend group. Plus they already had enough of you sighing dramatically at the mere sight of him. They can only wonder how you even manage to behave normal when you're assigned to help him sort out some paperwork after class. 

“This is gonna be awful. And fun to watch.” Maki turned her head to spot you in the cafeteria line, currently buying lunch for yuta and inumaki. 

They have a paper due the next day so they requested you to buy them lunch to save time. 

As you leave the cafeteria with lunch boxes in your hand, heading towards the classroom yuta and inumaki might be stressing over work, maki, nobara and Yuji join you. 

“Done buying the idiots lunch?” Maki came up wrapping a hand over your shoulder. “Woa— yeah! On my way delivering it as you can see…” 

“Sure thing.” Nobara said. 

“Well you know we're playing truth and dare.” Maki continues dragging out the ‘dare’ part. 

“Yeah lame shit…” 

“So, we’ve got a dare for you.” She announces outright. 

“Bitch i wasn't even playin—” 

“Yuji wants to pass his dare to you.” Yuji looked baffled at nobara, but decided to play along anyway. “Ah yeah y/n senior, can you please take the dare my stead.” 

Aww, you pitied the pink haired boy, one year junior than you. You nodded you head in sympathy, feeling sorry for what ridiculous of a dare maki and nobara might have imposed on him, not caring what they might impose on you. 

“It's really simple okay….” maki says comforting you with her grip on your shoulder. “You just need to go and pull up a bold act on professor gojo.” 

Your nodding halts as her word registers in your mind. You look up questionably at her with one eye twitching, face cringing.

“You want me to do what?” 

“Chill, I'm not asking you to get naked or edge play with him. Just a little flirting will do…” nobara nods aggressively at maki’s words, eyes sparkling to convince you. 

The lunch boxes stayed in your hand, before giving it away to the stressed duo who found it strange for maki, nobara and Yuji swarming around you, looking this excited considering your freaked out expression. You eventually agreed to them, unable to resist their sparkling eyes and it wouldn't be a lie to say you yourself were itching to try it out. 

You sort of had a head start when things came to professor gojo. Atleast that's what your friends thought, though you tried to convince yourself the opposite. You were just an average student. Not too good not too bad. 

It was a coincidence that he out of all the students ‘randomly’ chose you to sort out paperworks. 

You even wondered if he knew your name. Not once has he addressed you with your name from the previous two paperwork sessions. Not being able to ask, you decide for yourself that he doesn't. After all, why would he even try to remember you? Bet he doesn't even glance twice at your face. 

“Go!” Maki whispers at your ear, pushing you at your back, urging you. 

Professor Gojo was standing outside his office. A rare scene indeed, he seemed immersed in his phone screen typing something. 

You gulp once before looking back at your friends— whom you definitely cursed in your mind. Nobara pulled yuji’s collar down to her level, whispering something, which made him suppress his bubbling laugh. 

Your face twists bitterly, feeling a burn of anger, which soon dies as they push you off causing you to stumble mid corridor. 

Awkwardly you try regaining your balance as a string of curses slip past your mouth. You should have never agreed to this in the first place. Why did it matter anyway? You'd be graduating in a few months and will barely see the pink haired guy again. 

Gojo’s gaze shifts in your direction as you try to maintain a straight posture. Your best friend and the juniors hid themselves behind the small alcove, eavesdropping eagerly. 

“Yes?” Professor gojo stuffs his phone back in his pockets, one hand coming up to slide his rimmed sunglasses up his nose bridge. 

You suck in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of each hair in your body and every single sensation coursing through your body causing them to stand in attention. “Eh—”

Gojo eyes you up and down, a discreet smile tugging off his lips, as he comes forward closing the distance between you two. His towering body blocked the sun rays pooling over your body from the huge glass window. “Have a doubt about the previous lecture?” 

Maki and others sigh face palming themselves. Your frozen stance grows their doubt even stronger, questioning how you even manage to stay after class for the paper sorting sessions. 

“Yea— i mean I want to ask you something— ” you fiddled with your fingers, looking the other direction as gojo leans down to your level. A familiar embarrassing burn creeps up your cheeks, soon spreading up to your ears. 

“Um—” 

Gojo hums encouraging you to speak up, his sunglasses slipping down a bit as one sapphire eye peeks at you. 

You could feel maki and the other's gaze piercing through your back, suddenly wondering how come your professor hasn't noticed them gawking yet. 

Gojo looks at you expectantly. 

Okay, you've got this— you only need to pull a little bold stuff like flirting as nobara suggested. You can go with some pick up line, even related to physics for highlighting the pun intended, for example you can say ‘i know the spring constant of my mattress, wanna take some data?’

Okay, that was shit. What if you ask him to expand your polynomial? That's even more weird. 

“You oka—” 

“Cubitum eamus?” 

“ -what?” Gojo straightens up, scrunching his nose, resting one hand at his hip. 

Red spreads down to your collarbone, seemingly flushed yet relieved when gojo doesn't gets the hint. “Nothing.” You say before sprinting away downstairs, your friends following you down from the alcove. 

“Y/n wait-” maki huffs catching up to you, the juniors following behind huffed out. “What the heck did you say?” 

Her further inquiry made you even more flushed, eyes shutting as you take in another deep breath grabbing maki before shaking her by her shoulders. “I. Said. Nothing. You get it. NOTHING!!” 

Maki showed you a thumbs up, as Yuji halts your action, saving her spinning head from your ass. 

You calm yourself before making up and excuse and running away, still flustered, while the entire gang had no idea what the heck was wrong with you, coming to the conclusion that you were probably high. 

“Bruh what did she even say? A curse or something?” Nobara cracks up as Yuji was still trying to rescue maki from her brain shaken plight.

“I swear,” Yuji agrees holding a eye- spiralling maki from her arm, “i could have done better than her.”

“Better?” Nobara lends a hand to Yuji.

“Yeah…much better.” 

“Itadoriiii,” her eyes narrowed, a wicked grin blooming on her face, “I bet you're a man of your words.” 

And this is how Itadori Yuji, was dared-convinced that a he could ofcourse pull a better prank than his senior, such as spiking professor gojo’s coffee with aphrodisiacs. ‘i mean it wouldn't hurt to see him ache a bit.’— was what nobara had said yesterday. ‘We've got so many rumours about professor gojo atleast someone have to confirm them.’ she shrugged sliding the ziplock of crushed pills in his shirts pocket, before slamming on his back. 

Yuji checked once again at the front door of the office, his hands stirring the spoon on the hot coffee to let the powder dissolve. He somehow managed to sneak into gojo's office from the back door when professor geto called him out for a bit. The classes are over, and now would be the perfect time to get a look over the amusing scenario about to unfold. 

Yuji gets alert when he hears footsteps coming near, abandoning the cup before scurrying to the back door in order to slip out before anyone notices him. He intends to hide in the men's washroom before coming back near the back of the gojo’s office peeking from the small gap in the door he'd left open. 

As you enter professor gojo’s office with the bundle of written assignments the juniors had submitted, you see Yuji rushing out from the back door. 

Confused, you tilt your head. “What the heck was he doing here?” You mumble to yourself. The embarrassing moment of the last encounter you had with professor gojo flashed through your mind, face cringing red as you shook your head to forget those thoughts. 

Fortunately professor gojo didn't mention about the last encounter, he just asked you to collect the assignments from the juniors and bring it to his office. As usual he'd need your help evaluating the credits. 

You did feel a bit awkward after what you'd done but you tried to feign indifference, which didn't actually work, your palms were sweating wet. However you nodded as usual and went on with your work. 

You place the bundle of papers on his table, when your eyes travel to the cup of coffee, slow tendrils of warm stream rising upwards. However it was slightly displaced from its previous position, and— even the spoon in the coffee sat opposite from what you've seen before. There were slight sprinkles of white dust surrounding the saucer.

Your mouth forms a small astonished ‘o’, head turning back to look at the back door, with the small open gap. You weren't sure whoever you saw was Yuji or not, but you did spot a hint of pink. 

Your brows knitted together.

Did he spike the coffee? You thought.

But why would he do that? Yuji wouldn't go and do something like this. As you try to connect the dots with the situation, the creak of the door draws your attention back from it. 

Gojo entered back, his gaze briefly met yours, acknowledging you before turning back swiftly and sliding the door shut. 

He slipped back into his directorial chair, hand gesturing to the chair across his table. “Have a seat.”  

“—yes.” 

He ran a hand up his hair, getting hold of the first assignment among the bunch of papers, “take my laptop and register the credits.” He flipped through the pages, scrutinizing some parts longer than the others as you obeyed him. 

The excel sheet was already on screen as you opened his laptop, ready to type in the credits as he dictates. 

“Y/n,” you raise your head, eyes wide at him. This is the first time he said your name, even more shocked that he did remember it. 

“Yes.” 

“Have the coffee.” 

“—i'm sorry.” 

Minutes of silence pass, before gojo flips through the last page of the first assignment, separating it from the others. “I said. Have. The. Coffee.” 

You gulped at his persistent nature, did he spotted the white dust laying around? 

“I— I'm not very fond of it.” 

“Of coffee? Or of me?” you almost choked on your spit as he raised a cocky eyebrow, halting his hand midway from another assignment before picking up the metal spoon and stirring the lukewarm coffee once again. 

“Coffee. I m-mean.” 

“You seem nervous,” he placed both of his elbows on the table between you two, “I'm sure it will help you calm your nerves.” 

“T-thank you but I rea—” 

“You know you shouldn't reject your professor’s kindness.” your mouth felt dry, never have you ever seen professor gojo being this intimidating and hot, and if your brain already wasn't a freak, it was sort of turning you on. “Why are you adamant about it? Try it once.” he slid the saucer to you, as he let his face fall on the palm of his one hand, eyes watching your every movement with an orphic gleam. 

Unwillingly, you raised your hand, getting hold of the cup before bringing it to your lips. 

You gulped thickly not wanting to drink. You weren't sure if it was Yuji who spiked the drink or not, but it was sure spiked. You couldn't even bring yourself to tell gojo about it since you didn't want to blame Yuji for nothing but—

“drink.” 

You sip it. And— it tasted normal. Maybe you were just overthinking. 

Half an hour passed and you kept typing the credit scores on his laptop, as he continued checking the assignments. 

Everything was fine except you felt hot- like extremely hot. Your shirt stuck too tight to your skin and you wanted to take it off, your chest was heaving, sweat beads were forming on your temple even though the ac was on. 

“you okay?” gojo asks when you don't answer him. “Yes, I'm sorry, what was the score again?” 

“You seem to sweat awfully? Is something wrong?” Gojo rose from his seat, pushing the chair back slightly as he did so. He moved away from the table and approached you till he was in front of you. 

He extended one arm to you as his fingers touched your burning temple. You suck in a breath, his cold fingertips in contrast to your burning temple sent shivers down your spine. Heat pooled down your lower stomach as you felt the urge to clench around nothing. 

Was the coffee spiked with—

Gojo narrowed his gaze when you didn't answer him, retreating back to the almost finished cup of coffee, pouring out the rest of the remains into the saucer as the white powdery residue became visible. 

He swiped two fingers on it before rubbing and speculating it, sniffing it from his fingers. “tch, so you drugged it with aphrodisiacs.” 

“Huh?” you gawk at his accusation. 

“First you ask me to sleep with you, second you drug my coffee, do you really want me that bad?” 

You wanted to deny his accusations, you wanted to tell him that you didn't drugged his coffee but the way his words were laced with a hint of mockery, especially the fact the he knew what you said to him the last day, increased the dull ache of your core even more, thighs squeezing with each other to get some relief. 

You take a deep breath, calming your mind and open your mouth to deny him when he inserts his fingers in your mouth, the one with the white residue. 

“Suck.” your eyes widen once again, you shouldn't be doing this, you didn't drug his drink, so you should be telling him the truth. But what if you played along, what if you sucked his fingers as he said. 

What if—

Your tongue lapped the residue off his two fingers, sucking it clean, as he pulled his fingers out. He leaned down, hands on your arm rests caging you. 

“Such a good girl.” His breath tickled your burning skin, “I was going to wait till you graduate but since you're so impatient…strip.” 

It was an order. Unable to resist, you give in, if there was this mere possibility of him fucking you why not let it happen. You've had a crush on him since the very beginning and after all, this was the golden opportunity for you to confirm all the rumors about professor gojo you'd read in the forums. 

You let out a shaky breath, setting his laptop aside before hands come up to undo your shirt. Gojo straightens up, watching you shamelessly strip out of your shirt without blinking, gaze predatory even as if he wanted to devour you whole. 

You rise from your seat, letting your shirt fall on the chair you occupied before unzipping your skirt, its fabric pooling around your legs. 

You were now almost naked, only in your lace bras and your drenched panties. 

“Was the aphrodisiacs strong? You are pooling wet down there, it's almost dripping down your thighs.” And as if you weren't flushed enough, his mocking yet firm tone sent sparks dancing around your body. 

He didn't waste any more time before yanking you against his table and ripping off your panties. 

You hissed out a breath, which gojo swallowed with a bruising kiss. His one hand snaked his way to the hook of your bra while the other drifted down to your pulsating core. 

Oh god. He murmurs against your lips.

He barely even touched you and you're so achingly wet. Not that he expected any less with the uncertain amount of aphrodisiacs you swallowed. 

With one click, your bra loosened, before falling to the floor joining your torn laces. 

There you were completely naked, whimpering, withering mess under him as he kissed and suckled your lips. 

The infamous professor gojo satoru was kissing you, his hand down your pulsating core sent jolts circling the rough pad of his thumb on your red clit brutally.  

Gojo pulls away from the kiss, letting you feed chunks of oxygen to your lungs. A slim string of drool attaching both of your lips. “Open my shirt.” He says guiding your hand to his shirt, before latching onto your neck, marking you. 

You fumble with his shirt buttons hastily opening them before discarding his shirt on the floor. The way he was kissing his way down from your neck to your chest didn't allow you to take a look at his bare body, but you could feel it, muscles —defined, carved and chiseled. His hand reaches out, capturing yours, and he guides it across his chest, till it reaches the edge of his trousers. 

“Woa—” you gasp at his pent up fabric when gojo eased himself, grinding on your hands. 

A rumor confirmed: gojo had a big dick.

“Go on, do what you want with it.” He raised his head from your chest, now covered with red marks. He signals down with the corner of his lips curving sassily as he slips two of his fingers inside you. 

You suck in a breath. 

He draws back his free hand, cupping one of your breasts, caressing the neglected peaks of your arousal, while the other slowly fingers in and out of you, curling in so sweetly that it has your mind going dizzy. His fingers have you so full, that you feel you might just orgasm right now. The feeling of his rough fingers inside you was so different from yours, the way it pressed on different spots causing you to jolt of sensitivity, the way his thumb stimulated your clit, soothing the hot desire bubbling on your bunch of nerves, was otherworldly. You tried holding back your orgasm for this heaven to last longer, for him to lick on your nipples a little longer, for him to plunge his fingers in and out a little longer.

You heave out whimpers, trying to focus on something else other than your building hot white pleasure, unbuckling his belt as you unzip his trousers, letting it fall. 

His cock sprang out in full bloom as you pulled down his boxers, taking it in your grip causing him to hiss.

It was thick and angry, already leaking precum. Your breath came out in harsh raps as you started jerking him, trying to match his rhythm. “Mmhh fuck” he lets out a growl before withdrawing you of your pleasure, leaving you empty and dripping sticky. 

You suddenly regret holding back your orgasm. Will he stop? Will he say it's not right to do what you are doing now? Leave you unsatisfied, denied from your release, embarrassed and insulted. 

He pushed you down to your knees, as your grip on his cock loses which is soon replaced by his hand. Jerking rough and slow. 

“Open your mouth.” 

You couldn't react when his hand closed around your neck, squeezing it tighter and harder until darkness surrounds the edges of your vision and you gasp your mouth open barely managing to drag in a chunk of air when he shoved his cock in. 

“Yeah, now suck” he releases his hand from your neck only to tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you down to gag on his thick cock. 

“Mphfh.” drool leaked from the corners of your lips and dripped down your chin.

Gojo tugged your head back until only the tip of his cock remained in your mouth as he looked down at your tear filled eyes. “isn’t this what you wanted?” He plunged back down your head again with a sharp thrust. His tip was touching the back of your throat that you could feel it twitching slowly in your mouth and if this wasn't too much, the urge to relieve your throbbing clit intensified. You slide a hand down to your core, rubbing circles as he pulls back your head again. “Tch. Tch. Y/n. You're so needy for me. Cubitum eamus?” he says gently wiping off a tear from your cheek.

Fuck. 

Before you could answer he starts fucking himself mercilessly into your mouth, his low grunts mixed with the obscene sound of your gagging caused another sensation of heat coiling down your stomach. This time he didn't even touch you yet you were this close to your orgasm. You were sure to release this time with his cock throbbing inside your mouth, fucking furiously, and tears clouding your gaze when he pulls out. 

“Mmhh—” your protests die down as quick as they arise when he pulls you up and lifts you to his table, jerking aside the bundle of papers you brought. 

He adjusted your hips, before spreading your legs wide open with his knees, yanking you closer, letting your back fall on his table, “so eager ain't ya’,” his voice was raspy with lust, as you pushed yourself up with your elbows to look at him when he thrusts himself in, nails digging on the plush of your hips. He slides in without much resistance as he grows a smile, “so horny that ya’ drugged ma’ coffee. Don't worry your professor’s gonna get you riling nuts.” He slides out before slamming in with one sharp thrust. Driving deep and hard with every single thrust. The table was shaking at the intensity of him pounding into you. 

You cried out, mind getting blank, unable to process any coherent thoughts other than the sensation of his skin sliding with yours. His veins became more prominent with each thrust, flush getting deeper and deeper as his cock buried into you inch by inch till it touched the hilt of your ecstasy, which came down so sudden and so erratic, spilling down his cock onto his table till it dripped down the floor. 

The table banged with each thrust yet you were too numb to even care for things to fall and shatter down on the floor as if the second wave of your ecstasy wasn't arriving, building up hot and raging along with the thrusts of your professor. 

You clamped hard around his cock taking it all in, being so good for him that he hissed out his moans, more ravenous than he'd ever been. Your pussy clenched and stretched so good that he felt his blood running erratic, thrust getting more sloppy as your second high crashed down, cunt rippling with juices over his cock drilling into you, incoherent chants of his name spilling out your mouth. His head fell back, mouth opening in a breathy moan, as his eyes roll back, he knew he was close and might cum inside you if he didn't suppress his clawing desire. 

With his muscles tensing each fucking second, he painfully let go of the warm sleeve of your cunt, the air feathering cool at his red cherry tip, before spurting out strings of cum on your stomach. 

You barely could get hold of your consciousness, fucked feral by gojo satoru, laying naked on his desk with your stream of orgasm dripping down and marks of his arousal sticky on your stomach. Your hair was messy, skin marked from his iron grip and you looked dumb, wincing from the sudden emptiness— yet you were the most beautiful sight to him.

Yuji stood behind the door peeking from the gap he left open, you— his senior lays fucked on the table, his grip over his aching cock had the white of his cum slicking down from his knuckles. Oh what a scene it was, to let you have the blame for his misconduct and see you getting bullied by their professor, and to jerk off watching the entire scene unfold. 

He felt bad for what he did, and yet he kept looking at the way you gagged around gojo’s cock, the way gojo sucked your nipples, and the way you squirted for him. He knows he shouldn't feel like this yet he was turned on, even though he came twice he was still turned on. 

You don't remember much of what happened later. You only heard the rustling of papers, fixing of chairs and the only blurry sight you can regain was papers collected next to you, the mess of both of your arousals clean and the slight press of his lips on your temple. 

Professor Gojo was fully dressed and calm. And you were in his car, wearing back your clothes except for your panties which were torn. You don't remember how you even got there. 

“Where are we going?” You manage to ask, your voice hoarse from all the shouting. 

“Home.”

Who knows you might be able to confirm the truth of the other rumors from the forums, however you were too spent to think any of that, slumping back into your slumber.

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated | taglist is open | tags: @secretfankoala @moonchhu

[bykshre]

Sure Thing

charles leclerc x female reader (smau) 2/?

a continuation of WE FOUND LOVE (index)

summary: you and charles were meant to be together even if the media, society and his girlfriend criticized you.

trope: childhood friends to lovers, ferrari driver x head strategist , mean gf (no hate to any of charles' gf's, ex or current.)

a/n: hi hii!! :D charles my amour won in COTA and of course I had to create something out of that. Soo without further todo, i shall introduce to you Sure Thing, part 2 of We found Love! Enjoyyy!! <3

Your thumb hovered over Charles’ Instagram post, reading the simple caption repeatedly, fixating on one specific sentence; "Alex and I have decided to end our relationship".

You felt an unexpected surge of emotions — relief, confusion, excitement.

"This is so sudden", you whispered to yourself though there was no one really beside you.

Alex was heavily popular, APM Monaco made her model for their jewellery, she was signed with influencer management and she even promoted many clothing brands throughout her journey as Charles's girlfriend— she was sort of the IT Wag. However, nobody truly knows what she was, what she did and how she acts when she's away from the monumental stardom and attention she got.

And you opened twitter. Which instantly made you regret your decision.

@F1Gossip:

"BREAKING: Charles Leclerc and Alexandra call it quits! What led to the sudden breakup? Rumors are swirling about Y/N’s involvement… 👀 #F1Drama #CharlesLeclerc"

@AlexandraStans:

"Honestly, good riddance. Alex deserves better than someone who spends all his time with another woman. #TeamAlex #CharlesLeclerc"

@LeclercNation:

"People need to stop blaming Y/N for the breakup. Charles is an adult who made his own decision. #TeamYN #FerrariFamily"

Regardless of whatever you were feeling, you quickly pushed them aside, reminding yourself to not to get sucked into this situation. "Who are you?", you asked yourself, constructing a mental note. You are Charles’ strategist, his friend, and that’s all this was. You did spend hours with him throughout your childhood, of course, you went to school with him, you had sleepovers with the Leclerc brothers, you spent hours in the kitchen with manman gossiping - you were considered the daughter she never had. What have you not done with the Leclercs?

It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.

Frankly, you've no idea how to bring it up, so you kept a promise to not bring it up and you didn’t. You appreciate the week off without any races — it brought you away from everything. You wanted to keep your mind off things and give some time to yourself. And that's exactly what you did.

ursername

time-off 🤍🐻‍❄️🪽🍸

liked by mlnmarta, charles_leclerc, joristrouche and 2.8M others

lewishamilton enjoy, yn! lets get some almave next time ya?

⤷ ursername omg yes lewsss!! 🍸🍸

charles_leclerc 🩷 see you next week, ynie!

⤷ ursername indeed char 🤍🩷

mlnmarta boubou is missing you, come back soon!! 🤱

⤷ ursername u and me in singapore? it's a definite yes😘😘

alexfanpage look at this homewreker, fucking bitch! 😡😡

⤷ illpresidanto omg get a life!! you so pressed for no reason u ugly bitch

19765K likes

🌟

It was a sunlit afternoon in Monaco, where Marta and Riccardo were celebrating the upcoming arrival of their second child. The garden was decorated with a mix of blue and white balloons, creating a cheerful, celebratory atmosphere. Close friends, family, and little Chiara, who was already running around like a whirlwind, were all present.

You wore a pink dress, your hair tousled on your shoulders, favouring another baby girl while Charles was wearing a blue t-shirt accompanied with a blue bandana — something you haven't seen him wear for the past 2 years. It felt different seeing him wear that bandana, it evoked old memories between the both you. You were brought with a wave of nostalgia where you used to go live with Charles on Twitch racing each other on the sim during the Covid-19 era.

You're a sucker for nostalgia

When you first spot Charles at Marta and Riccardo's gender reveal party, you can't help but pause for a moment. He's standing casually near the edge of the garden, his relaxed posture and easy smile making him the center of attention without even trying. His blue bandana was tied loosely around his head. The way the sunlight catches his hair, tousled from the bandana, adds a soft glow around him. He’s talking to a group of friends, but when his eyes meet yours from across the garden, there's a brief flicker of recognition.

As Chiara ran over to you, her arms outstretched, you quickly scooped the little girl up into your arms — pampering her with your soft kisses. “Hey there, sweetheart!” you cooed, smiling warmly at the giggling toddler. Chiara clung to you, pointing toward the food table, eager to see what was there.

Charles watched the both you from a distance, carrying two glasses of sparkling water. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but tease, “She’s already stealing the spotlight from you.”

Charles grinned, handing you a glass. “It’s alright, I’ll always be her favorite godparent. She just needs a little time to realize I’m the cool one.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what you’re telling yourself?”

Charles shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Hey, it’s working. I’m planning to spoil her with all the toys.”

You smirked. “Bribery isn’t exactly what I’d call ��parenting,’ Charles.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing, “Good thing I’m not a parent yet.”

As the countdown for the big reveal began, everyone gathered in the garden around Marta and Riccardo. You and Charles stood together, chatting quietly about the possible gender.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a girl,” you said, eyes glancing toward Marta. “Marta’s been mentioning how much she wants a sister for Chiara.”

Charles shook his head, his hands on your shoulder. “I think you’re wrong, honey. Riccardo’s been too quiet—he’s definitely preparing for a boy.”

"I'll prove you wrong today, Miss Strategist," he smirked

"You'll never it's definitely a——"

The moment arrived. The large balloon in front of Marta and Riccardo burst, releasing a cascade of blue confetti. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and Chiara clapped her hands in delight as she was handed to Marta.

“It’s a boy!” Riccardo exclaimed, lifting his daughter into the air, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. Marta smiled brightly, holding Chiara close to her chest, both parents absolutely overjoyed.

“I called it,” Charles whispered, nudging you with his elbow.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that. But I guess I’m going to have to learn to spoil a little boy now.”

"And you're proven wrong, y/n," he said while erupting in happiness

"Fuck off Charles!" you said as you roll your eyes

Later in the day, after the excitement had died down, you and Charles found yourselves in a quiet corner of the garden, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. you were holding Chiara, who had fallen asleep in your arms, while Leo lay at Charles' feet, content and relaxed.

“You know, you’re really good with her.”

You glanced up at him, eyes soft. “She’s easy to love.”

Charles watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the calm scene in front of them.

“I think you’d make an amazing parent,” he said, his voice quiet.

You smiled, though you didn’t fully respond to his comment. Instead, you gently brushed Chiara’s hair from her face. “Maybe one day.”

charles_leclerc

team boy!! 🩵🌟

liked by mlnmarta, riccardoberreta, joris_trouche,ursername,landonorris

ursername baby chichi <3

liked by author

mlnmarta mi bebe~

joris_trouche 🩵

alexandrafp no alex and u look like shit!

alexamour wheres that bitch Y/N??

ursername

mon lion et ma petite filleule

liked by charles_leclerc, mlnmarta,oscarpiastri and 3M others

charles_leclerc adorable

lewishamilton soo cute!

mlnmarta my 👶

joris_trouche who took this pic🤭

@FerrariInsider:

"Sources close to the team say Charles and Y/N have been spending more time together since the breakup. Could something more be brewing between them? 👀 #F1Gossip"

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

COTA GRAND-PRIX, AUSTIN, TEXAS.

ursername

story, 4h ago

Looking sharp out there 👀 Let’s keep it smooth this weekend, @ charles_leclerc. 🏎️✨

As Charles arrived at the garage for practice, he seemed relaxed, as if nothing had changed. So, you followed his lead, keeping things as normal as possible. Talking about Alex was the least of your concerns, you were more concerned about how Charles was coping and when you saw him being his usual bubbly and annoying self —you knew this relationship was long to be called off. Then again, this is the Charles Leclerc, the homie hopper, the playboy- you've seen it all. He's messy in relationships and that scares you, so much. Yet, you're treated so differently and you wonder why.

After FP1, Charles and Carlos stroll into their garages to rewind and reflect with the team to consult tyre management, degradation and qualifying strategies.

As Charles unlocked his phone, his thumb instinctively swiped to Instagram to catch up on the latest updates. A burst of laughter escaped him as he saw a story from his head strategist, who had tagged him in it.

“Looking sharp, huh? Not bad for just a practice session.” He said to Y/N who was sitting beside him.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Leclerc. You still have a lot to prove this weekend,” you said sternly,

“A lot to prove? I thought I already impressed the toughest critic on the team.”

“I’m a strategist, Charles. Being impressed is temporary — results are what matter,” you said

“So, if I get results, will you post something even nicer?” he said, giving her his winning smirk

“Win the race, and I’ll think about it.”

🌟 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

As the sprint race ends, Charles strolls into the garage, his helmet tucked under his arm. Y/N is standing by the monitors, reviewing the data.

Charles: “You’re awfully quiet today. Everything okay, strategist?”

Y/N doesn’t look up immediately, keeping her focus on the screen. “Just making sure you’re as sharp as I said you were. No pressure, though.”

Charles smirks, leaning casually against the desk beside her. “I’m starting to think you enjoy putting pressure on me.”

Y/N finally glances at him, a small smile playing on her lips. “If it makes you faster, then maybe I do.”

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Y/N tilts her head. “You’d know if you were. For now, just focus on not going wide into Turn 11 again.”

Charles groans playfully. “That’s never happening again. You’ll see.”

Y/N: “Good. I like being right.”

Scuderia Ferrari HP

@charles_leclerc is working hard tonight with the team 🏎 ❇

liked by ursername,ggiada,mlnmarta,riccardoberreta and 5M others

ursername one of the rarest times i see mr leclerc staying overtime! mind-boggling indeed

⤷ charles_leclerc gosh you are annoying

oscarpiastri the dedication 👨

charles_leclerc y/n's fault!

lewishamilton keep it up bud!

After the debrief and post-practice meetings, you're walking back to your hotel, laptop bag slung over your shoulder. The paddock is quiet now, with only a few people milling about under the warm Austin night sky.

“Hey, strategist.”

She turns to find Charles jogging to catch up with her, still in his Ferrari polo and cap.

“Shouldn’t you be resting? I thought you went back? You’ve got qualifying tomorrow.”

Charles falls into step beside you, hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I could say the same to you. What’s keeping you out so late?”

You shrug. “Notes. Data. Making sure we’re perfect tomorrow.”

“We’re perfect, huh?” He glances at you with a teasing smirk.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t let it go to your head. It’s my job to make sure you don’t mess it up.”

“Ah, so you’re saying you’re the brains, and I’m just the guy driving the car?”

you finally stop walking and turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re finally catching on.”

For a moment, they just look at each other. The playful banter fades into a quiet intensity. Charles’ gaze softens, and Y/N feels her pulse quicken under the weight of his attention.

Charles: “You know, you’re pretty incredible.”

“Charles…” she starts, but he cuts her off with a soft laugh.

“Relax, strategist. Just giving credit where it’s due.”

You shake your head, “Save the charm for the press conferences. You’ll need it when they grill you tomorrow.”

“Right. Gotta stay focused.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t stay up too late. Wouldn't want my stargirl to get sick.”

You chuckle softly as you walk into your room, catching his eye as he waves from across the hallway, stepping into his room just opposite yours.

RACE DAY

The morning sun was barely filtering through the high windows of the hotel lobby as Charles stood near the entrance, checking his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. His nerves were on edge—not because of the race, but because today felt different.

Just as he was about to check his phone again, he saw you.

You stepped into the lobby, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. The buzz of the hotel faded away. You were wearing a dress unlike any other—simple yet striking. It was a fitted black satin dress, hugging your figure perfectly and stopping just above your knees. The neckline was deep enough to tease but still elegant, and the fabric shimmered under the light as if it were made to capture every glance.

you were unaware of the way you had completely captured his attention, you walked towards him with a confident, almost teasing smile. You could feel the tension in the air, but she wasn’t sure if it was just the race day energy or something more.

“Morning, Charles,” you said, your voice warm

“You… you look…”

Your smile widened, though there was a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Thanks. I wanted to make sure you had something to look forward to after the race.”

Charles chuckled softly, the sound low and almost nervous, his eyes scanning over you once again. The dress clung to your body in all the right ways, and his thoughts were running wild. “You’re distracting me,” he said with a grin, taking a small step toward you.

Charles reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers, the touch sending a shock through his system. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips for a split second before meeting her eyes again.

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected this reaction from him. Sure, he was always flirty with you but this past week seemed a little different.

“Shall we?” he asked

“Lead the way,” she said

Charles led you through the hotel lobby, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as you two walked toward the exit. His touch was soft, almost protective, but you could feel the weight of it. It wasn’t just a gesture—it was more.

When you reached the car, a sleek Ferrari SF90 in all its glory, Charles opened the passenger side door for you.

“After you,” Charles said with a playful grin.

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat as she slid into the car, the cool leather of the seat pressing against you as you settled in. You glanced over at Charles as he slid into the driver’s seat, his movements smooth and confident. The way he adjusted the rearview mirror, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel—it all seemed like a quiet dance between you both like everything was aligning.

Charles started the engine, the powerful rumble filling the space between them. He looked over at you, a small smile playing on his lips as they began their journey to the track.

“So,” he began, trying to keep the mood light, “Are you ready for today?”

You leaned back in the seat, gaze wandering to the window for a moment as the city passed by. “I think you’re the one who should be ready for today,” you teased, glancing back at him with a knowing smile. “You’re going to have a lot of eyes on you.”

Charles laughed softly, but there was a nervous edge to it. “That’s nothing new.” He shifted the car smoothly, maneuvering through the streets. “But it’s different when you’re here, you know?” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. “Having you here makes it… better.”

You weren’t sure if he meant it in the way you wanted to believe, but the sincerity in his voice made you feel something she hadn’t expected.

“It’s always been different,” she said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“I’ve always been here for you, Charles. I always will be.”

Charles glanced over at you, his expression softening. “I know. And I’m grateful for that.” His hand briefly brushed against yours on the gearshift, sending a jolt through you, and he didn’t pull away. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world outside the car fading away.

When they arrived at the track, the noise of the race weekend came rushing back.

He looked over at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, his thoughts seemingly racing. Then, with a slow exhale, he opened the door and stepped out, walking around to your side of the car. He opened the door for you, just like before, but this time, it felt different.

As you stepped out of the car, Charles was already there, his hand extending to help steady you, though it wasn’t needed. You didn’t take his hand immediately, but the way he watched you, the way his eyes stayed on you with such intensity, made your heart flutter.

“You look even more stunning in the daylight,” he said, his voice lower now, the playful teasing replaced with something more genuine.

You met his gaze, lips curving into a soft smile. “Thanks, Charles,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

formulaone

Charles Leclerc steps into the track alongside his strategist, Y/N today! Charles is starting P4 today - let's see what we'll get with Ferrari, especially with the upcoming title battle with McLaren! Today's going to be interesting.

liked by mlnmarta,joris_trouche, and 4M others

alexandrafp seriously charles it;s only been 2 weeks since you broke up with alex and you're taking y/n around in your car? wtf!

⤷ charlesfp y/n is charles childhood best friend , besides alex was toxic enough that he couldn't spend time with yn!

⤷ ynstrategistupdates frr- yn and charles have always stepped into the track together before this, where is your brains?

⤷ yndefender please what?! charles had ENOUGH with alex past 2 years! stfu and leave the sport if you're only invested in WAGS!

@F1Fanatic

"Okay, but Charles and Y/N arriving together in his Ferrari SF90 and the way he held her hand to help her out of the car??? Gentleman of the year 🥺🔥 #CharlesLeclerc #F1"

@TifosiForever

"Y/N in that dress??? Charles could barely keep his eyes off her. You’re telling me this is just ‘driver and strategist’ behavior? 😏 #Ferrari #COTAGP"

@GrandPrixGossip

"Did anyone else notice how Charles waited for Y/N at the lobby this morning? She’s clearly more than just a strategist to him. 👀 #F1Drama #LeclercNation"

@F1Moments

"The way Charles just casually said ‘I drive better when I know you’re watching’ to Y/N in the garage?? Sir, the cameras are ON. #SlowBurn #CharlesAndYN"

@FerrariInsider

"People are saying Charles and Y/N are just friends, but friends don’t exchange those kinds of looks before a race. 🫣 #F1LoveStory #CharlesLeclerc"

@F1Editz

"Charles Leclerc and Y/N arriving at COTA this morning >>> any romcom scene ever filmed. The chemistry is unreal. 😍 #F1Romance"

@LeclercNation

"If Charles wins today, it’s 100% because Y/N is his good luck charm. Someone check the stats on her presence at his podiums! 🏆❤️ #F1CoupleGoals"

womeninformulaone

Ferrari's Head of Strategy, Ms YN arrives on the COTA paddock alongside Ferrari's Charles Leclerc today. She is wearing a beautiful fitted navy blue dress. Let's see what she pulls off in today's race! 🏎 ❇

liked by carmenmundt,hannahstjohn,ursername,charles_leclerc and 8M others

ynsfp who is this DIVA?

alexfp cunning witch

⤷ charlesfp you should've been banned by now! Why do people like you still exist??

ursername WOW haha featured by this page? I thought this page was just for WAGs, never thought WOMEN in MOTORSPORTS could've been featured.

80K likes

RACE

The track energy was high as the team prepared for the race. Charles stepped into his car after having his debrief with his engineer, Bryan, Fred and of course, you- adjusting his helmet and getting settled in the cockpit. You stood by, watching till the clock hits 12.

Least to say, you were feeling nervous. But when do you not go through a whirlwind of emotions when you see your best-friend driving at 200-300km/h for 2 hours? Formula One is not a just a sport— if not done meticulously it'd be fatal.

Not were you only nervous on that but as a strategist yourself, you are afraid of letting the team down with ridiculous pits and scenarios which scares you. You weren't responsible for what happened at Montreal nor were you responsible for the mishaps this year. But as a woman in motorsports where women are highly downgraded and treated not well — you were determined to make a change in this sport where misogyny has no place and uplift young girls to dominate this world of motorsports.

As you sit on your chair at the pit-wall, you laugh as you remembered your last conversation with Charles making you shake your head.

“I’m going to win today.”

“Confident, are we?”

Charles: “When you’re the one calling the shots, how could I not be?”

There was multiple times where Charles would've said that and not win. So him being overconfident made you remember those moments. However, you always wanted your best-friend, Charles to win every single race if you could. You both grew up dreaming about winning the constructors championship for Ferrari and here you are together working together.

Life is so unexpected and magical.

The Circuit of the Americas roared with excitement as the lights went out, marking the start of the Austin Grand Prix.

As Max and Lando fought aggressively into Turn 1, their cars went wide, forcing both drivers to compromise their exits. This split-second miscalculation opened the door for Charles and Carlos Sainz, who took full advantage. Charles made an audacious dive on the inside, slipping past not just Max and Lando but also gaining a crucial edge over his Ferrari teammate.

Suddenly, Charles found himself in P1 by the end of the first corner, with Carlos right behind him. The commentators were stunned by his opportunistic brilliance:

"Leclerc from P4 to P1! That’s unbelievable! What a move from the Ferrari driver!"

"His race-starts are on point, isn't it?", you ask Fred

"He's definitely perfected it," Fred replied

From that point on, Charles showcased a masterclass in race control. Lap after lap, he extended his lead with precision and consistency. While chaos unfolded behind him, with Max and Lando locked in a fierce battle for P3, Charles focused on maintaining a steady rhythm.

Even the pit stops—often Ferrari’s Achilles’ heel—were flawless. When Charles came in for his stop on Lap 18, the team delivered a lightning-quick turnaround, allowing him to rejoin the track without losing his lead.

"Just keep it steady, Charles. You’re doing an amazing job," his race engineer said over the radio.

"Copy. Let’s bring it home," Charles replied, his voice calm but determined.

As the final lap unfolded, the crowd at COTA erupted in cheers. Charles crossed the finish line with a commanding lead, having led every lap of the race—a feat that underscored his strategic brilliance and racecraft.

"YESSS! Let’s go, ragazzi! What a race!" Charles yelled over the team radio, his joy evident.

As the garage burst into cheers and celebrations, someone nudged your shoulder. “He’s going to be insufferable after this,” one of the engineers teased, and you laughed, shaking her head.

“I think he’s earned it,” you replied softly, unable to hide the affection in your voice

His team congratulated him on a flawless performance, and the commentators lauded his exceptional drive

Leclerc didn’t just win today—he dominated. From P4 to P1 by the first corner and never looked back. This was a perfect race from the Ferrari driver."

Your hands trembled as you lowered the headset, a wide grin spreading across your face. Pride swelled in your chest, almost overwhelming. You clapped along with the team but couldn’t shake the warmth bubbling inside you. This wasn’t just a win for Ferrari. This was a win for him

In Parc Fermé, Charles leaped out of his car, visibly elated. The Ferrari garage was a sea of red, celebrating what was undoubtedly one of their best performances of the season. Charles hugged his team members before making his way to the podium.

You had tears visible flowing down your cheek- they call it the happy tears. Your heart beaming in joy and proud.

You wanted to run out there and hug him, tell him how incredible he was. But instead, you stayed rooted, heart pounding, waiting for him to arrive in Parc Fermé

As the Monegasque driver stood on the top step, the Monegasque national anthem echoed through the Austin sky, marking a moment of triumph for both Charles and Ferrari.

As he made his way to the podium, you stayed back, watching him from the sidelines. Your heart was full, pride immeasurable. You pulled out your phone, snapping a quick photo of him standing on the top step of the podium, champagne in hand, the Monegasque flag behind him.

The camera's were all on you, Ferrari and Charles — capturing the special moment that will last an eternity.

@F1Fans: "Charles Leclerc’s drive today was a masterpiece. Calm, calculated, and utterly dominant. Driver of the day, no question."

@LeclercNation: "From P4 to P1 by Turn 1, and he never gave up the lead. Charles Leclerc is a star! #AustinGP #TeamLeclerc"

@F1Memes: "Max and Lando fighting each other in Turn 1: 'This is fine.' Charles: 'Don’t mind if I do.' #Masterclass"

@FerrariOfficial: "Victory in Austin! Charles Leclerc secures the win with an exceptional performance. A day to remember for Scuderia Ferrari! #ForzaFerrari #CharlesLeclerc"

ursername

story, 5mins ago

What a drive. Proud of you @Charles_Leclerc

When Charles returned to the garage, still beaming, he sought you out immediately.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice cutting through the noise.

You turned, laughing softly at the sight of him—his race suit slightly damp from the champagne, his hair a mess, and his face glowing with happiness.

“That was incredible,” you said as he approached, eyes sparkling with pride. “You didn’t just win—you owned that race.”

He grinned, a little bashful despite the confidence he’d displayed on track. “You think so?”

“Charles,” you said, stepping closer, voice dropping slightly. “I think the whole world knows so. That was a masterclass.”

His grin turned softer, more genuine. “Means a lot coming from you.”

For a moment, there was silence between them, just the buzz of the team celebrating in the background.

“You owe me dinner,” you teased, breaking the tension. “You promised if you won.”

He smirked, his signature charm returning. “Guess I better make it special, then. For someone who’s apparently my lucky charm.”

You rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the warmth creeping up her cheeks. “Don’t get used to it, Leclerc.”

“Oh, I’m already used to it.” His tone was playful, but there was something deeper in his gaze, something unspoken.

@F1Updates:"What a dominant win by Charles Leclerc today at the Austin GP. From P4 to P1 by Turn 1 and never looked back. #CharlesLeclerc #AustinGP"

@F1FanGirl:"Did anyone see Y/N’s story? That caption! She’s so proud of him, and honestly, same. #CharlesAndYN"

@GossipGrid:"Y/N spotted in the Ferrari garage during Charles’ win. These two are definitely giving ‘something’s going on’ vibes. 👀 #F1Drama #CharlesLeclerc"

@FerrariOfficial:"Victory is red! 🏆 Congratulations to Charles Leclerc on a flawless drive at COTA. #ForzaFerrari #AustinGP"

charles_leclerc

Another one . The team have done such an incredible job recently and it's paying off, so happy we achieved a 1-2. Thanks to everybody for the massive support too, always special to come back to the US.

liked by ursername,scuderiaferrari,joris_trouche and 10M others

maxvertsappen1 amazing masterclass bro

lewishamilton always amazing to see young generational talents winning🥇

ursername well done leclerc! 🥇

ursername

merci charles, you proved yourself right, you earned this win with pure talent and crafted art- to more wins!

liked by mlnmarta,charles_leclerc,maxverstappen1,lewishamilton and 6M others

charles_leclerc finally got a good caption huhuu

scuderiaferrari cota will be in the books!

anthoinethrouchet amazing job charles, merci y/n!

@LeclercNation:"THAT race win. THAT walk back. Charles texting someone during the press conference. Coincidence? We think not. #CharlesAndYN "

@F1Gossip:"Y/N was glowing after Charles’ win. And the way he kept looking at her? We need answers, stat. #F1Tea"

You two stepped into the elevator, the hum of the machinery filling the quiet. Charles leaned against the wall, glancing at you.

“You didn’t stick around for the real celebration,” he teased, his voice low.

You smirked, arms crossed. “I figured you’d be too busy soaking up all the glory.”

Charles tilted his head, his lips curving into that signature smirk. “Maybe. Or maybe I was saving it for someone more important.”

Her heart skipped, but you rolled your eyes, playing it cool. “Always the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Only when it works,” he shot back smoothly, the elevator dinging open just in time.

As he stepped out, he glanced back at you with a small grin. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Charles,” you whispered as the doors slid shut.

all rights reserved @bykshre

[chimcess]

Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre:  One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell. 

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response. 

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.” 

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen. 

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for. 

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen. 

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp. 

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room. 

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss. 

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?” 

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?” 

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.” 

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within. 

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly. 

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me. 

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine. 

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper. 

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance. 

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time. 

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me. 

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions. 

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.” 

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[tsukii0002]

I liked your mc calling the brothers their husband post. Would you do something similar with the undatables? Absolutely fine if not!

Hello!!, Thank you for you message 🥺. Apart from the dateable ones I include the non dateable ones because they deserve it. This time the situations are longer and more elavorate, a little bit of love for the side characters. Although it took me a little while, I hope you enjoy it.

Part of the brothers

Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.

Diavolo

Diavolo had to go to the human world to close some deals with the Corvo company and you decided to accompany him. But it was a matter of minutes before people approached him to ask if he was a star or a celebrity. Following his friendly nature, he talked to everyone and even took pictures, a small group of people approached you, seeing that you knew him.

Woman: How handsome, is he a model?

Man: Who is he?

Mc: He is my husband *smile* and he is not a model.

Diavolo didn't dissimulate, he didn't wait, he turned quickly and walked briskly beside you. His eyes were shining, crystalline, he didn't know what to do, that was unknown ground for him. He was trying to tell you a hundred things so fast that you didn't understand him. You took him by the arm and pulled him away from the crowd. Despite his excitement, he put his hand on yours with extreme gentleness, as if he was afraid that his touch would make you suddenly disappear.

Mc: Did I say something I shouldn't have?

Diavolo: What? No, no, you haven't said anything you shouldn't….

He looked away totally blushing.

Diavolo: Are you sure… that despite of everything, of who I am… you would want me as your husband?

Mc: *moved* I couldn't think of anyone else Dia.

Diavolo: *shining like the sun* I couldn't be anyone else but you either, spouse.

Barbatos

You had agreed to help Barbatos tidy up a room full of relics, the demon was very grateful to you.

Little D: It's very sweet of you to help Mr. Barbatos.

Mc: Well, it's only natural to help my husband.

The little demons put their little hands to their mouths while laughing excitedly. You laughed too, but you stopped when you felt a whisper in your ear, when you turned around there was Barbatos, with a kind smile and his cheeks a little colored, he was looking at you with immense affection. He put his hand to his chin and began to watch you curiously, now you were the nervous one. The Little d's laughed mischievously.

Barbatos: It is, without a doubt, the greatest treasure I could find in this room.

Mc: Th- the what?

Barbatos: Ju, ju, the time I spend with you, my spouse.

Barbatos held you by the waist and hand, as if to dance, you grabbed his shoulder and let him guide you around the room. He hugged you as he caressed your face with his cheek. It was hard to read, but his eyes exuded an endearment rare to see in him.

Barbatos: I never considered having a spouse before.

Mc: *laughing* No?

Barbatos: No, but now that I've found myself having the best spouse in the three realms, I've realized how much I wanted to have them.

Mc: Damn *totally blushing*

Little D's: Kyaaa!!!

Solomon

Solomon had gotten into an argument with a demon, the sorcerer seemed to be having fun, but you knew you had to stop him from getting into more serious trouble (with Barbatos). The demon was throwing in his face certain problems with his artifacts and conflicts of the past while your master just laughed, you jumped in the middle without hesitating, the demon looked at you.

Mc: Stop it, you are not going to achieve anything arguing with him….

Demon: Do you even know who this shameless guy is?

Mc: Of course I do, he is MY husband.

The scene was hilarious, Solomon with his hands up grabbed by the collar of his shirt by a demon, the chaos stopped, the second one looked with a face of disbelief and the first one at first had his usual smile, but then he suddenly turned red and seemed to emanate heat. He began to gesticulate, the demon let go and the crowd dissipated. Solomon stood looking at you, very still, his face had no trace of his usual amused expression, he looked unusually shy.

Solomon: *taking his hand* Really… would you want a husband like me?

Mc: *squeezing his hand* I can't think of a better one.

Solomon laughed, that cute laugh, shy he was also charming.

Solomon: The two most powerful wizards in history, as husband and spouse… no one will stop us Mc.

Simeon

You and Simeon were going to run some errands in Devildom, you used to go together, because you were not intimidated to go out alone and Simeon felt better if he accompanied you. Some demons still had problems with the angels, (you are already mimicked), and some were not afraid to approach to provoke.

Demon: Oh? Who could this little angel be?

Mc: My husband.

Simeon dropped all the fruits as he looked at you, surprised, very surprised. The angel then started looking around and picking up the fruit with a nervous smile. With a look from you the demon left, embarrassed. You crouched down beside Simeon and could see that he was avoiding your gaze with a rosy face. You both stood up and laughed, though Simeon still avoided your gaze. You set off again and after a while Simeon spoke.

Simeon: I thought it was just me… *brings his hands to his face* I thought I was the only one who wanted to be your husband.

Mc: Well *acting surprised*, I'm pretty sure I've had an angel husband for a while.

Simeon: If so, *grinning nervously again* then I've had a human spouse for a long time.

The angel carries all the bags in one hand and holds out the other to you. Determined, you take it.

Raphael

Raphael had convinced you to go to a knitting club in the human world (how ????), the grannies loved it and when they saw you enter they began to whisper excitedly. You sat down in the ladies' circle next to Raphael and started knitting (or trying to), as conversation began to arise. One of the ladies asked you kindly.

Granny: Tell me, my child, what is your relationship with Raphael?

Mc: Raphael is my husband

Raphael blinked, then looked up with a look of confusion and looked at you even more confused, cocking his head like a puppy. The ladies began to whisper even more excitedly. Raphael looked around as his colors rose, pulled his chair closer to yours and looked you in the eye. The grannies left you alone.

Raphael: You…. *pause for reflection* are you serious?

You didn't really know what he meant, but you nodded, he seemed to reflect, with that serious face of his. The angel was an indecipherable person most of the time, it was part of his charm.

Raphael: I… I promise to be a good husband, I will always take care of you and I will make sure that…

Mc: *being cautious* What?

Raphael: *smiling* That my spouse will always be happy.

Mephistopeles

Mephisto had invited you to a party at his family mansion, despite denying it he tried to be by your side the whole time, trying not to leave you alone, but being the host it was too complicated. He talked to all kinds of demons while you watched him, you could see how he constantly looked in your direction in a hurry. Several of the guests approached you.

Demon: Why are you here *smugly and* how would you know Mr. Mephistopheles?

Mc: He *looking him up and down* is my husband.

Mephisto's face was a picture, he had heard it. It didn't take him two seconds to approach you, striding towards you, totally flushed.

Demon: Are you serious? That's impossible.

Mephisto: *raising his voice* I am their husband! And they are my spouse!

You remained silent, he had embraced you in a protective way, interposing himself between you and the demons, it was your turn to blush, the guests left. Mephisto held out his arm to you, you took it, he was looking straight ahead with a pout on his face totally blushing, but he put his other hand on yours, firm. I didn't know what else to say, you laughed.

Mc: I won't be a problem, husband?

Mephhisto: Don't separate from me, there is no problem… *almost stuttering* spouse.

Thirteen

You had promised to take Thirteen to a punk band concert upon the recommendation of some class friends (because yes, you had a social life in hell outside of the brothers and the others). Thirteen was trying to make every possible plan with you, and seeing her face colored with excitement or thrill was totally worth it. There you recognized a friend.

Dyed hair demon: Mc! How nice to see you, who is your friend?

Mc: Oh, this is my wife.

Your friend's face colored, Thirteen seemed to have stopped working as her eyes opened wider and wider, while her face blushed more and more, but then she let out a big laugh and hugged you tightly, giving you kisses and kisses all over your face, leaving her lipstick marked. Without taking her eyes off you and with the sweetest smile in the world she laughed again.

Mc: It's our special night, just for the two of us.

You circled her waist, then she took off one of the earrings hanging from her ears and put it on your finger, to then link her hand with yours.

Thirteen: *with very flushed cheeks and a mischievous smile* I love making these plans with you, spouse.

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Thanks for reading🌸

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[livelaughlovesubs]

hello hello!!! as for the event can i ask lyney (if you write for him, ofc!!) with "making them perfom tricks" plus "begging"? i thought about him right when i read the first prompt. 😭

hope you have a nice day!!! :D

Thank you :] I was a little lost on what to do as ‘tricks’ but @illustrious-ia helped me brainstorm

Dom!reader x sub!lyney - reader is GN

Warning: strip tease, anal play, dildo & bullet vibrator, teasing, voyeur (?)

Anniversary event

The click of the door, loud footsteps as he walks up the stairs, a heavy sigh before he enters your room, all blushy already when you two locked eyes. “How did your performance go?” You stared up from the bed, sitting up, smiling softly. “Everything went well, you’d expect nothing less from the greatest magician.” Lyney said, ruffling one hand through his dirty-blond hair. “A shame you weren’t there to watch me.”

Slowly, he got closer to you, kneeling down at the bed post, looking at you with such adoration. “You are right, so, won’t you give me a private performance?” His eyes lit up at that, and he smirked mischievously, “my pleasure.” Afterward, he stood up again, undressing himself with a teasingly slow pace, feeling your gaze on his body. “Please watch me carefully.” The boy mumbled, untying every single ribbon on his body. This was a game he enjoyed to play, to test your patience and to egg you on.

“You shouldn’t let your audience wait so long, they might get bored and leave you know?” You said, hinting at something, though you knew he wouldn’t fall for that. “I have no need for an audience who can’t appreciate the art of waiting.” Lyney answered you confidently, now taking off his gloves and peeling off his leg wear. The way he did it was provoking, wriggling his hips around, doing his best to show you his chocolate side. Seeing how much effort he was putting in, you decided to give up, “mhm, is that so? Fine, I’ll wait.”

Once he was entirely stripped of his clothes, he did a little twirl as if to showcase a pretty dress, though he wasn’t wearing one. He let you take a good look at his body, not an ounce of shame present in his actions. You clapped sarcastically, saying, “oh lyney, our greatest magician, please show us a worthwhile trick~” he bowed at your two faced compliment, replying with, “why of course, I’m sure the next act will be splendid!”

Then, to your surprise, he grabbed a nearby chair and put it in front of you, so that you’d have a good view of the object. After that, he grabbed his black hat and continued his little show. “Next, my lovely audience, I’ll pull an item out of my hat~” he kept going with this persona of his, acting as if he was searching for something with an arm completely buried in that hat of his. “Ahh, my apologies, it seems it’s quite cramped in here.” You waited with bated breath, staring at him intensely as he pulled out… some cards, some tape, a plushy, a rose bouquet that he drew at you, some vibrators and a suction dildo.

“Haha, sorry for the long wait, there it is, what I was looking for.” Now he was grinning all excited, pressing the toy against the chair, strapping the vibrators to his chest and already fully erect member. Once he was done, he hovered above the silicon toy, using the tip to poke at his entrance, before slowly taking the gland in. He didn’t use lube nor did he prepare himself, and with one swift motion he sat down completely. “Nghh~ w-what do you think, y/n? Pretty impressive, huh?” Finally he broke his facade, one hand clenching the edge of the chair, the other one holding a book.

You caught the bouquet with a confused look, wondering if it was a part of the show. It must be, considering he doesn’t do useless things. When you looked closely at the bouquet, you found remotes in it, which were probably for the vibrators on his nipples. With a big grin, you turned it on, listening to the low vibration sound and his lustful gasps. He was withering, an aroused look across his features as his insides tightened around the toy. You stared at the way his small body eagerly swallowed the huge toy, clenching around it with such fever. “Yes, I am enjoying myself. Go on, mr. Magician.”

He took a while until he could maintain eye contact with you, then declared with a shaky voice, “n-now, I’ll read you a s-story, hnnGggh.. while riding this, ah, toy.” So, basically he was saying, ‘watch me while I become a needy bitch for you’. You wanted to comment on it, to maybe stand up and ‘help him’ as an assistant, but he continued his speech with, “p-please stay seated until the end. When I’m done, we can gladly do some fan meetings ♥︎”

[foxy-eva]

Dad!Spencer Headcanons

(requested by anon for my New Year's Celebration)

Spencer could not be happier when you tell him that you're ready to have kids. He always wanted to be a father.

When the baby is born he goes on parental leave to be able to spend as much time with his family as possible. He might even decide to take time off from the BAU and take on a teaching position so he can be there more.

He is so excited to finally be a dad and reads every book about parenting he can find.

He proves to be a great dad from day one. You can always rely on him to be there for you and your child.

He is used to an irregular sleeping schedule due to his job so it doesn't bother him to get up at night to take care of his kid.

It doesn't take too long until you decide you want to have another child and Spencer is just as excited as the first time to start this journey again.

He loves to read or recite children's books to his kids and they love listening to his voice. Soon they start sharing his love for books.

Spencer loves to watch them grow up and learn new things. His eyes are always filled with wonder and adoration when he sees their unique way of discovering the world.

He is really involved in his children's lives. They feel very safe with him and always tell him when something is on their mind. It warms your heart to see how much they trust him.

He keeps every single drawing and art piece they make. He would never throw away anything his kids created.

He loves to spoil his kids and he has a hard time saying no when they ask for something while looking at him with their big eyes. Sometimes you have to remind him to not overdo it.

Spending quality time with his family is really important to Spencer. It quickly becomes a family tradition to do some fun activities on weekends.

He makes sure that his children can explore different kinds of activities to find out what they like and what talents they have. It doesn't matter if it's art, music or sports, he will be there to support them.

Other kids from the neighbourhood or from school are always welcome at your house. Spencer really likes to entertain his kids' friends with little magic shows. He wants his children to have everything he missed out on as a kid.

Spencer has a hard time letting his children go when they grow older and need him less. He accepts it of course but sometimes he wishes that they would stay little forever.

If you liked this post you should check out my Pregnancy Headcanons and my Family Time Headcanons!

Please make sure to like, reblog and comment. Your support really helps me to come up with more stories!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @khyleereads

[rangerbarbz]

Study Sessions

“Study Sessions”

Author’s Note: Had some time to start another blurb! (After reading Book of Bill I’m thinking about writing about Ford possessed by Bill idk) I hope y’all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think lovelies <3 EDIT: OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT SEE ALL THE INBOX REPLIES I HAD I AM SO SORRRYYYY I HAVE SOME REQUEST IDEAS IN THERE I’D LOVE TO DO 

You had conquered every single class at Backupsmore with either an A or a B as your final grade. You wouldn’t say you were a genius by any means, but you took pride in your schoolwork and wished to graduate as soon as possible. This changed when you began taking physics. You had never been so stumped by a subject. The equations, the laws, and the Godforsaken labs were the bane of your existence. 

Your determined nature refused to let you fail, so you decided to ask your professor for help. He began doting on his star student Stanford Pines who had taken his class the previous semester and was excelling through the upper level classes. Your professor suggested reaching out to him because he had recently become a S.I. for the introductory physics and chemistry courses. He handed you a Post-It note with his name and the hours when he was going to be in the library. 

After your last class of the day, you strolled over to the library on campus, nervous for your first session. He was so smart and you were afraid that he would get frustrated with how little you understood this subject. You made your way to the S.I. lab on campus and tapped your knuckle on the wooden door that was open. There was no one at any of the tables, but there were scattered notebook paper scribbled on and a textbook open. 

“Hello?” you called, looking around for a sign of anyone. Suddenly, a head popped up from underneath the table. He had ruffled brown hair and black, square glasses. 

“Hello!” the man replied, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. I had dropped my pen before you walked in.” He then sat on the rolling chair and scooted it closer to the table. “I’m Stanford, but you can call me Ford. I assume you’re here for physics help?” 

You smiled. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ford. Yes, I am here for physics. My professor recommended you to me.” You placed your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair beside him. “I just want to go ahead and warn you, I’ve had trouble in this class. I hope I don’t frustrate you too much.” 

Ford chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re a smart girl. Do you have any homework that needs to be completed?” You felt your face become warm. Smart girl. You enjoyed him calling you that. There was nothing quite like academic praise to a scholar. 

“Uh, yes I do actually,” you answered, not letting your train of thought derail. You pulled your binder from the first pocket of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you two. “It’s ten problems, so if I miss more than three of them that means I have a D,” you continued as you removed the worksheet from the rings. “I am shooting for at least a C in the class overall.” 

He grinned at you like he was happy about doing physics. “Well, I believe you’re going to get no less than an A in that class.” You laughed at his confidence in you. 

“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it, Ford,” you replied, twirling your pencil between your fingers. You gazed into his eyes; the sunlight from the window brought out hints of gold in his dark brown irises. Wow, they were so pretty.

He then cocked his head to the side. “Pardon? Did you just say ‘pretty?’” he asked with a smile tugging at his lips. 

Your face immediately became hot. Oh my God you spoke out loud not meaning to. Okay how do you save this conversation. You laughed nervously. “Pretty excited to start learning that is! Ha! Let’s get started, please. I can’t wait!” you exclaimed, all in one breath. 

Ford nodded. “What a great attitude to have, Y/N!” He then picked up his pencil and began to explain the first problem to you. He was so good at going into detail about every little thing. He was patient with you as well which was good because he kept on distracting you. 

The more you focused on him, the more features you noticed. His glasses had scratches on the wire rims, he had a prominent, square jaw, and he had unkempt sideburns. He was so damn good looking it made you want to study thermodynamics forever if it meant you got to look at him. 

You had actually gone through the homework quicker than you thought you would, so Ford asked if you would want to practice some extra problems on the blackboard. Of course you agreed. You walked up to the board ready to write whatever he threw at you but feeling self-conscious about being the center of his attention like this. He was still sitting at the table reciting the equation back to you while you stood out in the open. You then pushed your insecurity to the side in order to show him you had actually learned something today. He carefully observed you as you wrote, watching the cogs in your brain turn. He also was watching the way your face contorted in concentration and the way your fingers tapped against the chalk tray. 

“Alright. I think I’m done, Ford.” You moved to the side so he could see your final answer. 

He smiled at you, putting his hands on his knees to get up. “Let’s see what ya got,” he responded, walking over to stand beside you. You didn’t realize when he was sitting how tall he was compared to you or how broad his chest was. He began to mumble under his breath, making sure there were no mistakes present. “Everything looks good Y/N!” He then turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Look at what you accomplished in just this short amount of time! If you keep on coming to my sessions, I know you can get through this class without worry.” Ford paused and looked back at the board, hands held behind his back. “It would make me happy to see you succeed.” 

You beamed back at him. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him right now? 

You (obviously) continued going to Ford’s S.I. sessions because your grade improved with each one you went to. You had also spent some time outside of the library together  by doing some photography of the wildlife around campus while Ford doodled in his sketchbook. People usually clocked him as an introvert, but he was not like that with you. He had opened up quite a bit to you about his past and what he wanted to do in the future. 

Today, you had met Ford on a bench outside his dormitory after your physics class had let out to share some good news with him. “Ford!” you called out. He looked up to see you waving a paper marked with an A+ in red ink. “Guess who got the highest grade in the class on the test last week?” you squealed. 

“Yes!” Ford said triumphantly, standing up quickly to pump his fists in the air. His sketchbook fell to the ground with some of the loose papers coming out. “I’m so proud of you!” You put your hands on his strong shoulders and jumped up and down. 

“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m just tickled pink right now,” you responded happily, bending down to pick up his drawings before the wind caught them. Ford’s face suddenly fell.

“Oh here I’ll get that,” he started, kneeling down on the concrete beside you. He was trying to pick up the papers that fell out as fast as possible, but you were faster. 

Your eyes grew wide as you picked up a paper with drawings of a woman reading a textbook, in a tree taking a picture of a bird, and one where she was just laughing. They were all you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at them. They were so beautiful. 

“Y/N I’m so sorry. I- I can explain,” Ford stammered. “I- I have…liked you for a while now. You just are always on my mind, so I end up drawing you sometimes.”

“I like you too,” you cut him off. 

His face was flushed beyond belief. “I, well, uh-” 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you stated. Ford’s eyebrows lifted as you closed the gap between you with a sweet kiss. He let out the tiniest sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering close. You held his face in your hands and separated your lips from his to see his reaction. He was still blushing with a goofy smile on his lipstick stained face. 

“That was nice. Should’ve done that sooner,” he joked. You giggled and began to kiss him rapidly on his cheeks and forehead. You had left red stains of your lips with each smooch you gave him. 

“Yeah, you should have, smart guy.” He rolled his eyes and held your chin between his thumb and index finger to pull you in for another kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“I can’t wait to tell Fiddleford about this,” Ford murmured. 

“ And I can’t wait to see Fiddleford’s reaction to my assault on your face,” you laughed.

[bowsnstrings]

No More Hiding!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character ✌️🏾

Summary: Milana is tired of being the shy, dorky, campus “weirdo”, but isn’t so sure about how to open up. When put in a situation where she has to at least communicate will she sink or swim?

Warning MDNI!: Mentions of weed, Mentions of food, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist: 🍃

Word Count: 2.3k

What’s the difference between being antisocial and cast out of society? Milana wasn’t really sure as she felt a mix of eyes on her, trying to make her way off campus to get home after a long day of lectures and homework.

There was still so much to do when she got home, looking around and seeing people’s heads turn as she walked by, feeling the anxiety grip her quickly. Even with headphones and strictly looking ahead she could still feel their eyes boring into her skin.

Gosh, why are people so rude? Couldn’t they just let her live? She didn’t even know why they stared, just knowing that when they do, she just wants to shrink in on herself and hide away from the world.

That didn’t sound like a bad idea at this point, just wanting to see her cat, Oreo, and smoke a nice joint to kick off the weekend as she wrote some poetry in her journal. The perfect stress relief, and to top it all off, she’d order in sushi, turn on Insecure, and watch her favorite comfort show.

Nothing could ruin this for Milana, not even her nosy neighbor, Shelly, who was trying to peek into her doorway as she cracked it open. Simply ignoring her and kicking the door shut, unbothered for the first time in ages.

Milana practically ran to her bedroom, excited to get started, pulling out her remote and sticker covered book as Oreo jumped on the bed. His lovely little face stared up at her as she went around the room searching for the last item.

“Where is it?” She asked herself, pushing her curls out of her face as she leaned down on hands and knees to look under her bed.

Milana reached and grabbed the familiar tin jar, hoping to see a pre roll in there all ready for you to spark up, but found the entire container empty. “Nooo!” She whined softly.

Oreo laid his paw on her hands, meowing and trying to get some extra cuddles, which she provided as she tried to think. Who could she hit up last minute… She didn’t really know that many people on campus either.

Sasha’s boyfriend? Connie! He knew some guy who dealed right? What was his name though, it started with an “E”. Eric? Eren, maybe? Yeah, that was definitely it.

She could’ve sworn she saw those two together a few weeks ago, and when she clicked on Eren’s Instagram he was posting pictures of wrapped up cannabis in pouches ready to sell. It wasn’t too much of a shock either given how much the guy likes to party.

Without a second doubt she was pulling out her phone to text her best friend. Sasha asked Connie, her boyfriend of three years, and sent over Eren’s number to hit him up. She definitely owes Sash a manicure or something to really thank her.

Eren was slow to reply, mostly sending abbreviated messages that were like reading a new language, only to tell her that he can’t make the drop. Milana sighed, defeated and ready to give up when he sent a new message asking if she’d like his friend to drop by with something for her.

At this point she was desperate. Milana told Eren his friend could stop by and tossed her phone on the charger. She figured she could kill time a bit while she waited since it’d be a while.

Nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix to get started, hopping up from the floor and making her way to the bathroom. She flipped the handle to hot, and ran to the kitchen to start the kettle, deciding some tea will really make this all better.

She shed her clothes on the way back, dropping them off into the hamper, and stepping into the steaming shower. It was just as relaxing as she hoped it’d be, sighing in relief, feeling the scalding water cascade down her body.

Milana took time to really wash herself down in her baby pink body wash, the scent wafting through the entire bathroom as she did. Scrubbing her skin then stepping out onto the bathmat, turning off the shower and jumping into a towel.

As she made her way back to the kitchen she checked the time to make sure that she hadn’t accidentally lost track, pouring hot water into her mug. It was a pretty special tea blend she was using, really wanting to celebrate today and all her little wins for herself .

She took the tea with her to her bedroom to steep as she rubbed herself with lotion, smiling happily at the smell. Taking small sips of her drink in between getting dressed, trying to keep Oreo away from her mug before he knocked it off her nightstand as she shimmied into a skirt and crop top.

Eren never specified who his friend was, so she tried looking at least a bit presentable, at least enough to quickly grab her weed in the doorway and lock herself back in her room to get in some pajamas and into bed. A knock at her door had Oreo’s head peaking up curiously before scurrying across her apartment to hide in his bed.

At least they didn’t show up at a crazy hour, but she didn’t expect them this soon. Better for her actually, she thought to herself as she made her way to the door, grabbing a cardigan from her coat hanger and wrapping it tight around her body to protect from the cold.

Her hand paused before she opened the door, a sudden wave of anxiety as she took in her appearance in her closeby mirror. Oh God, what if they made fun of her, or started talking about her to Eren? What if word gets out on campus? Maybe she should change. Another knock sends her out of her spiral and scrambling to answer the door.

“Sorry, I was just-” As she looked up to speak it was like coming eye to eye with a literal piece of art. Her eyes taking in all six foot something of him as he towered over her.

Lifting her head from his clean white Air Force ones to his lax black jeans, barely on his waist. They were only slightly covered by a baggy black hoodie that couldn’t even hide how muscular he was.

Her jaw nearly went slack when she got to his face. Sexy goatee and rich dark skin, with a beautiful white smile directed her way? She couldn’t even get to his eyes before she realized that she must’ve been staring with how amused he looked.

This was literally Milana’s worst nightmare. She took a deep breath of air and straightened up, throwing her arms around herself in case he could see she wasn’t wearing bra.

“Hi…” She wheezed out, hands trembling at the first bit of human interaction she’d had in while.

“Hi.” His voice was firm. Deep and warm with mirth. Her neck craned up to really see him, his hood on with a satin black durag and brown eyes that anyone would want to swim in. Just perfection.

Deeply, immensely, intimidating perfection. One that had her wanting to just slam the door in his face and not face him ever. Oh well, she was here now, might as well try not to make a complete fool of yourself.

“Right, are-are you Eren’s, uhm, friend?” Milana felt like a bug leaving its cocoon for the first time. She really had to get better with talking to people, it was starting to get embarrassing.

“Yeah, I am.” Straight and to the point. No extra filler words or anything, she didn’t really know how to respond, nodding and waiting for him to say anything else. “You just need a “G” right?” He asked, tilting his chin up to reveal a shining gold chain around his neck.

She went to speak until she tried to think of something cool to say, pausing mid air only to sigh out a shy, “Yes please.” Speaking under her breath while trying to hold her composure. She watched his hands come out of his hoodie to rub together in the chilly night air.

“I’m Ony.” He nodded to her, and she smiled politely at his name. “You said cash right?” He confirmed, and she realized that he might’ve been rushing her a bit so he didn’t have to stand in the cold.

“Sorry, right!” Jumping straight into autopilot she turned around to go inside, quickly turning back so she didn’t look rude for just leaving so suddenly. “I will- I’m just going to- let me go inside!” She rushed out all jumbled together as she spun on her feet.

Ony’s eyes nearly went blank as she turned her back to him, Milana’s hair swaying her scent in his face. Mhmm, strawberries, vanilla ice cream, and marshmallows. She smelled like the perfect dessert, and he had to adjust himself while she wasn’t looking just so she wouldn’t see him nearly drool.

As she went back inside to find the money she took a minute to breathe, hiding behind her bedroom door with a hand over her thumping heart. Oh my gosh, that man was so fine, like actually gorgeous! The only man she’s ever looked at and actually wanted to even attempt to flirt with.

It took a minute to calm her racing heart, but she had to remember what her real mission was here! Milana made her way to her vanity, grabbing the small ceramic dish containing some cash she kept for rainy days, pausing to actually get it together and cool down.

As she made her way back out, she tried to put on a braver face, smiling and focusing her energy into seeming relaxed. She was about to hand over the bills until she heard a needy meow behind her. She could recognize the sound of her hungry cat anywhere.

Oreo slithered out the door behind her, making her do a double take and open the door to let him back in. “No, baby. Pst, pst, pst.” She kneeled down trying to coax him back and watched in awe as he slithered around Ony’s legs instead.

The cheeky little boy decided to take a seat right between his feet, purring in content. “Cute cat.” Ony finally acknowledged him, smiling with amusement as her pet leaned its head back to look up at him.

“Thank you, he’s not normally so friendly.” Milana smiled as she scooped up Oreo in her hands and deposited him back inside. Quickly, she closed the door before he could escape again and stood back up, noticing Ony’s eyes on her the entire time.

“So he’s the one holding you down here, huh?” He said distractedly, eyes moving up and down her figure, almost committing it to memory.

She shrugged, ignoring his stare and looking down at her sandals as she answered. “Ah, y’know. He’s the only man in my life, so.” She laughed at her own joke before getting embarrassed at how lame it sounded, shrinking in on herself by trying to pull her cardigan around her body.

“What’s your name?” Ony asked, shocking both himself and her. That wasn’t typical for this type of interaction, to give your random plug your name while trying to buy some prerolls. She didn’t know what to say, but he was so assertive that it was hard to just do nothing.

“My name is Lana- Milana, sorry.” Oh no, why did she give this man her government name? What was she thinking? “Milana is my real name, but I never give it out. Everyone calls me Lana, except my professors, but they can never pronounce it right anyways so…”

She shut herself up before she could ramble anymore. “I’m Onyankopon.” Ony smiled, reaching a hand out smoothly, starting over with her. He never gave out his government name either, but something about her was just too good to resist.

Gorgeous girl, natural beauty too. Not an ounce of makeup, but he couldn’t even imagine how good she’d look wearing it too. Her curls were long and tight, shiny, just as healthy and moisturized as she looked.

When she stepped outside for the first time, it took everything in him not to pull out his phone and thank Eren for wanting to smash some random chick tonight. With the way her body was looking too, he’d really have to make sure this wasn’t the last time he came up here.

“If you need anything,” His hand gently took hers as he stepped forward, her eyes dropping down then jumping to his face. “Give me a call. I’ll have Eren give you my number.” She didn’t even notice how he slid the small baggie into her hand until he pulled away.

Offering up her cash, he took one look at the slightly crumpled bills and shook his head. “Just gimme five and we cool.”

“Five?” Sputtering softly in surprise, she held out two bills instead. “No, no. That’s not enough right?”

He almost laughed at how she nearly gave him twenty five dollars for a twelve dollar bag.

“Call it a discount. For my new favorite customer.” Ony plucked his five out of her hand and let her keep the rest, allowing the silence to wash over them as she felt the weight of his words.

Was he-No. he definitely wasn’t flirting. No way. He’s being funny or nice. He had to be, right? He for sure wasn’t sending her a wink and another smile as he left, walking away and leaving her in the doorway to ponder about what he said.

She felt like she was in a daze as she made her way back into her apartment. Replaying everything in her head as she changed and sat back in the covers, finally lighting up the preroll.

She didn’t know how to feel, the weed calming her down enough to not feel so embarrassed, but that didn’t mean she stopped thinking about Ony. Or Onyankopon? Which one should she use? More importantly, would she even see him again? Milana didn’t know, but she definitely knew who’s number to hit up if she ever needed him.

[heyitstam]

dr. robert chase x reader - the chase itself (smut)

hi guys :D i know i haven't posted in a while, but i recently asked a VERY good friend of mine to cook me a fanfic of this very beautiful man, and HE DELIVERED. like all out jaws on the floor type delivered. i love this man fr, so i'm posting it here with his permission. it's his first fanfic ever, and in my humble professional opinion he overdelivered - so have fun reading this beautiful smut fic of reader and dr. chase <3

I. Humble Beginnings

Taking place in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey, you are a fairly new nurse who pursued a medical career in quite a common way. The way being that it was more so your parents’ wish for you to go to medical school than your own, but you don’t necessarily hate that fact; at least it gave you a direction, so to speak.

It’s early in the morning, so there’s not a whole lot going on. You went around doing your usual checkups already and what not, therefore you decide to go on your well deserved coffee break. However, right as you are are on that, and you step out of the cubicle you are in, you glance over to an unfamiliar face through an operating room.

Some would call it love at first sight, but it really is more than that. It’s the kind of tingly sensation no one could forget. It’s almost shameful, but you can’t be bothered by that feeling right now. As if you physically couldn’t take your eyes off of them, you lose all sense of purpose, standing there, unable to think. Suddenly, someone bumps into you, which wakes you up from your total amusement. You feel the need to know more, so as you squint your eyes, you can read their name off of the shirt they are wearing.

“Dr. Robert Chase..?  I need to.. have a talk with him. I just need to.” – you think to yourself, ponderingly.

You go back to working with a saturated mind, unable to concentrate.

II. The Chase Itself

As days go by, you’re quite hesitant to reach out to him, but you seriously feel the need to. Why is that, really, you ask yourself. You ache to even have a talk with him at this point, but you long for more. Way more. You can’t think of anything else.

After contemplating for a good while, you decide to ask around to know what time he gets off from work, since you want to surprise him at the last minute. That’s the only way you see that you could have a one-on-one with him anytime soon.

With that out the way, you now know everything you needed to know. The only thing that divides you from your desire is to actually act up on it, so you gather all your courage. You look at the time, and you’re actually pretty shocked how caught up you were thinking about him. If you don’t hurry then you’re going to miss him that day entirely, so you start sprinting.

You notice him as he is turning around the corner, all dressed up, ready to leave, and you stumble right into him.

“I need to tell you something inside, it’s.. it’s important, alright. And it might just take a while” – you tell him, struggling with your words. “Great. I was just about to leave, you know. Whatever, show me, I don’t have much time for this. Is it really that important?” – he answers abruptly, being quite impatient.

You suddenly catch a rush of excitement. This is all that you were planning for the past few days or so, to get close to him, and it looks like you’re on track.

III. An Uneasy Start

Chase swings open the door of the office he’s just been in, ushering you in and closing the door behind him, since there’s quite the commotion even late into the night, it’s a hospital after all. It’s dark inside, the only light sources being a dim lamp he accidentally left on and the Moon seeping through the closed blinds faintly. The room has a surgical bed, a cabinet behind it with all kinds of training supplies, a desk with an office chair and a hanger stand. He puts his white coat on the stand, then undoes his tie, putting it into his pants pocket in a really apathetic way, with most of it hanging out.

Seemingly being quite contempt with the situation, he sits down onto the office chair, facing you, and he seriously doesn’t look like he wants to be there.

As a last effort at trying to ease up the situation, you grab the glass of water that is sitting on the desk and you splash it at him, in a playful way.  Not surprisingly, this backfires, since he doesn’t seem too happy about, not in the slightest. He stands up from his desk and goes on to wipe off his shirt to make it slightly less messy, all without even muttering a word. You do feel pretty stupid for that.

With another attempt at getting his attention, you arousingly start to cut the strings off of a few upper buttons on your blouse with a surgical knife, as he turns back to you, giving him a snarky look.

“Was that really necessary? What was so important about any of this? Can we get to the damn point?” – he asks you with a loss of temper. “I might have lied about that important thing.” – you answer him not so bravely.

He's visibly frustrated at you, and with a change of demeanor, he stands up and is now closing distance between you in a rush, as you are backing up. He halts as he catches up to you, towering over you.

With both hands on your shoulders, clenching them hard, he asks you, in an almost belittling tone: “Is this what you wanted? “ “I don’t know, is it?” – you answer him in a pretty similar way.

Like the kind of tease you tend to be, you start gliding around your fingertip on his chest, which he.. seems to enjoy, and lets you do for a short while, for then to push you to the nearest wall.

IV. Lust

Fueled by lust, you immediately grab his chin and assertively start kissing him, which absolutely catches him off-guard. In reaction to the advancement on him, he forces your body onto his as he caresses your back. After this goes on for a bit, he grabs you by the thighs, lifts you up and tosses you onto the surgical table.

With your arms behind you, you’re sitting halfway up as your legs are pulled up. You lock eyes while he is still holding you by your thighs. He leans over, drags you closer and is now standing between your legs.

You clumsily unbutton Robert’s shirt, one by one. In contrast, he carelessly tears off a few more of your buttons, making the blouse slide off your shoulders, which then falls onto your lap, flustering you in the process.

He then puts a hand on your lower abdomen, which feels surprisingly soft, even though his hands are quite firm. Most notably, it’s warm. So warm in fact, you feel like you could melt into him, and you are all about that feeling. Starting from your thighs, continuing to your hips, he brushes his both his hands across all the way up to your chest in a painstakingly soft and throughout way, but at the same it’s quite the calm moment.

An intrigued nervousness starts to pile in you as he suddenly starts to unbuckle his belt, which was undoubtedly the loudest noise in the room so far. In the meantime, like the obedient girl you feel like you are, with each rattle, you can't wait to obey. As if you were a household maid, you’re more than ready to satisfy the head of the house, as if he shook a bell around.

He tosses aside his pants and boxers and you feel like you can’t catch up with your heavy heartbeats as he rests his rigid cock on your stomach. It all just feels so sudden, and it’s starting to grow on you in a pleasurable way. He goes onto removing your bra, while you’re simultaneously stroking him slowly and briefly, before he goes down on you again.

You can feel it throb against you, and it’s just as, if not hotter than his hand is, which he has below your stomach again. He needily grinds against you over and over, lifting your skirt up with it every time, and rubbing against your inner thighs.

He doesn’t wait around before removing your panties, which are drenched by this point, and neither does he wait to penetrate you, as he is inside you now.

“Maybe I did need this.. “ - you hear him talk out loud quietly.

At once, as he is slowly, but forcefully thrusting into you, you see him pulling out the tie out his pocket, which he puts around your neck now, instead of his own.

It’s tightened real well, and he’s gripping it by the base, close to your neck. In the meantime he’s constantly pulling on it upwards, as it’s digging into the back of your neck, scraping your chin against it’s band, making your head tilt backwards considerably. With every moan you make, he tightens more on it, leaving your neck all bruised up. As he is fucking you, you’re nails deep in the sheets. You can’t help yourself but feel pleasured.

As he’s starting to get rougher on you, you begin to develop second thoughts and try to resist him, but as you’re doing that, he immediately tugs you closer, rendering your attempt futile. As you look at him, he seems to be way too into this, as his eyes lose all focus and glare, and you can only watch as his control over himself fades, railing you without a care in the world. This creates even more neediness in you, as you cross your legs behind his back, clinging onto him.

You can barely even keep your eyes on him, and you’re not even resisting his pull on your neck anymore, so you fully commit into tilting you head back in joy. All this sexual fulfillment demands you to do so, as you are slipping out of control more by the second. You feel like you could finish at any time, and as he’s also getting close, he’s painfully grazing your stiff walls more and more, with your moans sounding pitifully more helpless.

Ejaculating with a quiet grunt, he blasts the majority into you, leaving two strings across all the way up your body, all for you to feel ecstatic about. You really do feel like you owned up to it with your services, as if it was his way of rewarding you. Not to forget about you, he pushes you over the edge too, as you’re desperately gripping his shoulders. No matter you could barely take a break after your climax, he leans closer over your stimulation filled shivering body, and goes for a deep passionate kiss. Not even bothered by the fact you are still desperately panting and gasping for air along with him.

V. Not So Aftercare

After standing up from the bed, he comfortably hugs you by your hips, to which you endearingly put your hands onto his. After romantically rocking you slightly around with his hug, he leaves his hands off of you to start dressing up. It’s getting quite late.

As he is about to button back his shirt, he looks at you still standing there, still looking a bit shocked from everything that happened so far. Deciding to help out, he steps besides you, getting your bra back from your bed, and putting it on you. He’s slowly buckling the back together, and you are simply just unable to look him in the eyes, since you're becoming increasingly shy in a sudden way, blushing like you never have before.

"You.. didn't have to, you know.." - you tell him in a higher pitch voice.

You really enjoy his care, it does fill you with joy. Then you reach out for your panties, but as you are pulling them up, he slides his hands under yours, taking the lead again, which surprises you even more. You are so overwhelmed with emotions at this point, you shake right into his hand as he pulls it all the way up, giving you a slight friendly chuckle, and blowing you a kiss right above the lining of your briefs, gaining him an immediate gasp from you. You're truly mesmerized by him.

He continues dressing himself, and as you calm down, you rush into his arms, facing his chest. He caresses and pets your face and head with one arm, for him to go onto groping your ass, and going down to your thighs. His hand lifts your skirt away from time to time, letting colder air in. After he finishes clothing up, he swings you to his other side and pushes you right to the desk.

“I need more of you. I need to feel you in more ways.” – he tells you with a shaky voice.

You almost even stumble, and with an utterly scared look on your face, you glance at him. Without precaution, he pushes you down onto the floor. You look down onto your legs. Your knees are together and your feet are far apart, completely side-tracking you. You even put your hands on your knees in a cute way, but as you lift your head, his cock gets into view, poking through his pants fly, which takes you aback.

Your first and immediate reaction is to press your lips all around him, kissing and licking his shaft as it pumps against your mouth. After growing tired and wanting more, he puts his thumb in your mouth, and with a few fingers latching onto your chin, he pushes downwards on your jaw. With closed eyes, you stick out your tongue, waiting for him to enter. He lets go off of his fingers from your face, following up with exactly what you expected. It feels way bigger than what you anticipated, leaving your mouth sore in the first minute, already. He’s being frantic with you, mouth fucking you without relent. You’re huffing for air as you whimper, but you aren’t getting any. You start to sob as he goes deeper down your throat. As you move your tongue in a swing like motion, from side to side, you circle the bottom of his shaft as he shoves himself in an out. You soak his cock with your saliva, blending with his precum. No matter how much of it you gulp down, It’s flowing out your mouth.

Resting his elbows and head above you on the desk, he looks down at the top of your head, as you suck him off. From the table, as he rocks you around, all kinds of documents fly off. Not that he cares, really.

Without even telling, he comes into your mouth, throbbing against your lips. You stomach it all as you look up to him, initiating eye contact, and smiling. After spewing out his cock, you grab it by the base and gently rub it off with a napkin. He pulls his zipper up, and kneels down. He parts your hair slightly and greets your forehead with a last smooch.

Looking back at you for the final time, he waves at you, winks in a mocking, yet sweet way and leaves though the door. You can only wish to meet soon in a similar fashion.

VI. Reflection

You’re at a loss of thoughts. He’s been so careful, yet so careless with you at the same time, and that’s just messing with your brain right now, so you lean your head against the desk, you close your eyes and give into the bliss once again.

Even after he left, you’re sitting in the dark, in the same position he left you in, with his tie still around your neck. You feel embarrassed, but you can’t help yourself as you take in the scent of his tie, pleasuring yourself through your clothes, while thinking about him. He has a hold on you, and you know that well.

[ma1dita]

don't blame the kids

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> not your goddess | next -> trouble's coming for you words: 7.6k summary: (established relationship (kinda lol)) The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. The Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: the Chapter—set during the winter solstice; tldr: your dads are besties + hera is a good judge of character.... more d & trouble as requested, enjoy! eh ill edit this once i get back from class later tonight, taglist & ao3 update to be posted then as well

—

Your head falls against the metal of the school bus with an audible thunk. The sound of discordant cackles wakes you up from a dreamless sleep, making you jam your mouth shut and feel your spit go stale on this chilly winter morning.

“Rough night?” 

Keeping your cool despite the pounding headache, you mumble out an incoherent reply to your younger brother, whichever one he was. The old leather seat sighs as one of them sits down, the added weight jostling your legs as you groan and open your eyes to see two blond heads staring at your tired form. One of them peers from over the seat in front while the other leans over your lap, rifling through your backpack for snacks—there’s no such thing as personal space with these two for siblings.

You blink slowly as your vision clears, the cold grayscale interior of the bus still too bright on your eyes.

It’s too early for this shit.

“You’re talking to yourself again,” Pollux grins, noticing briefly that you’ve made an internal thought external. He hands his twin a granola bar from your backpack and leans back against your shoulder.

“Need this weekend to be over already,” you mumble, “just wanna sleep a bit longer and forget all of this. You two helping me later or are you gonna do that juggling bit again with the bottles of ambrosia?”

“Too bad it’s just begun,” Castor chuckles, before flopping back into his seat, then calling out, “and we’re playing the water glasses, thought it would make dad laugh—HEY!“ You tossed your water bottle at him and missed only because he conjured it into his hand and not your intended target of his skull. 

“We’ll be around if you need an extra hand up there,” Pollux murmurs over a hot chip, the crunch reverberating into your ear, “Are we gonna talk about why your boyfriend is on the opposite end of the bus?” Or why he didn’t come to cabin 12 last night… The stealth of sons of Hermes aside, the twins always know when he drops by— Luke usually leaves bags of stolen candy and tiny trinkets tied to their doorknobs when they lose teeth. To be honest, they’ve known the tooth fairy hasn’t existed since they were ten, but Pollux has one last molar he was looking forward to cashing in for a Push-pop.

“Nope.”

“Good talk,” he nods, before belching so loudly you shove him into the aisle, “Ow!”

The rest of the bus is filled with quiet chatter and excitement as you decide to take the chance and get up to survey the handful of campers who join you for the winter solstice. Some of the younger ones are crammed like sardines with bobbing heads as the bumps and turns of the Long Island Expressway rock them in and out of sleep, which is a privilege you were just robbed of. The others that are still excited to see their godrents move animatedly as they clamber over each other and practice their performances for later, a dissonant symphony of prose and instruments out of tune, vines growing from the Demeters’ row, and multiple charcoal pencils rolling along the floor towards the driver sitting up front.

There’s only so much you can hide on a bus, and now that you’re awake…

“Beck!” you hiss as the smell of burning hair wafts through the enclosed space, “No fire on the bus!” The dark-skinned boy looks at you sheepishly, fanning his younger sibling’s singed eyebrows and cracking open a window. Ironically (no pun intended, but while we’re here, ha!) Hephaestus will love his kids even if all of Olympus goes up in smoke. You wish you could say the same for the rest of your campers. The ones left to consider—like those of Hermes, watch the blur of the road whizz past their peripherals, lacking their usual sense of merriment and mischief in knowing their father will be a no-show even on the one day a year they’re allowed to visit. Though a worthless trip off the island is way better than cleaning wine glasses with the nymphs—to them, kitchen duty ends when one’s fingers are about to fall off the bone. 

Making a mental tally of your kids in case any of them have decided to fall out of the vehicle during your much needed break (demigods can get into twice the amount of trouble mortals can in half the time after all), you notice Annie’s waving you over towards her and her seatmate who is coincidentally the only person you wish would drop into the East River.

You make your way over feeling like you’re walking to your death, with your knees buckling with the movements of the bus, momentarily stumbling to a stop in front of their row and conjuring a juice box for Annie with a small smile. Your boyfriend(? — could you still call him that? You remember falling asleep in the storage room counting the sleeping bags, waking up in your bed alone and not much else) looks up at you expectantly as if you’re the one who should have something to say now. You avert your eyes quickly. 

Even on the shortest day of the year, being under his gaze makes time pass slowly like being dipped in molasses. The feeling sits at your throat uncomfortably, and your resolve makes your stomach feel like an endless pit.

“Yeah, Annie?” you say simply. You don’t mean to, but the smile on your face fades ever so slightly. They both notice and don’t say anything—one in contemplation and the other in disappointment. 

“You look awful.”

Okay, what the fuck. Between the thousand-yard stare you gave your wall this morning and the amount of time you spent slathering makeup on at the crack-ass of dawn, you would think that at least your eyebags were concealed enough.

But Annabeth Chase is nothing if not honest, and even if you were the best actress she’s ever met (which you are), there is no way of hiding heartbreak. 

Can you call this that? 

Heartbreak. 

You’re still unsure of if it’s really over—can you say that Luke broke your heart if there’s no way of being certain? What is a break, anyway? Are there terms and conditions you should follow? Is this the part where you two just never talk again and it’ll always feel like this?

But if the boy sitting across from you broke your heart, you think you’d be able to tell—so let the evidence show (or lack thereof) that you’re pretty sure he took it with him, wordlessly and selfishly like a son of Hermes would. With no remorse. 

Let’s not call this heartbreak then. Perhaps the more accurate word to describe your expression is despondence—he chips away at you further with how he looks at you now. Luke catches himself admiring the way you’ve done your hair and the glitter on your eyelids and then honey meets amethyst as your eyes lock. In between an obvious sigh and the way you bite your tongue, he realizes that despite your beauty always rivaling that of Aphrodite (at least in his honest opinion), there’s something hollow in the way you look back at him this morning. He doesn’t know how to feel about that either. 

You both didn’t end off on a good note yesterday—and that much, plus the rare occasion of sleeping alone in the months you two have been together was disconcerting, to say the least. 

“Thanks for that. If that’s all, I’m gonna go back to my seat,” you deadpan, turning back towards the front of the bus. 

You can’t even look at him, you realize. In the almost five years you’ve known Luke Castellan, your favorite thing to do was just look at him, from the way his nose scrunches when he laughs, to the fluttering of his eyelashes when he gets tired, because one of the easiest parts of loving him was by just watching him to see if he was looking right back at you.

And you can’t even do that, because it comes with a whole bunch of feelings you have no time to unpack right now. You decide to focus on the scar that spreads across his cheek instead when Luke calls your attention back towards them. He says your name so softly you almost miss it, gentle, like how someone talks to a child. It’s infuriating.

“I thought you were driving the bus today?” 

Somehow a simple interaction like this feels like the hardest performance of your life. Breakups never came easy, but dear gods, why right before the winter solstice of all days— you mumble a reply so quietly even Annabeth leans a bit closer to hear, “Didn’t sleep well. Big day today.” You brace against the seatback in front of them, tightening your core as the bus whips around a bend.

“Thought it’d be safer if I got one of the satyrs. Had to promise him unlimited access to the kitchens for a month though.”

Almost slamming into a full stop, your eyes widen as your body hits leather, properly leaning over the both of them as the daughter of Athena holds onto your leg and one of Luke’s hands grabs your arm.

“Gods. Look how that’s going,” the younger girl jokes, before looking up again to see her brother and you staring at each other motionlessly. Everything goes quiet—you don’t hear screaming campers or see Clarisse shaking one of her younger siblings upside down for a candy bar. Your knees shake slightly under the weight you figuratively carry on your shoulders. How will you show face to the gods when you can’t even keep a smile steady?

Time stops for a moment, and if it’s only been 12 hours, you’ve already lost count— but its felt like a lifetime since he held you like he might still care. It’s hard to tell, the both of you are too stubborn and it reminds you of a time when all of your conversations went like this—vitriol and annoyance leaking from each word, but at least when you were fourteen it felt like the build up to something great.

But what happens after great is exhausted? The comedown is a terse conversation that almost flies over Annabeth’s head—said in a way that adults do when everything is veiled and heavy, not meant to be seen by prying eyes and younger hearts. 

“I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way,” Luke mutters from beside her. You retract your arm like you’ve been burned and shake your head, “Well, it did.”

The wise girl starts to put the dots together, face scrunching as she deciphers the hidden meaning behind your exchange. She should’ve known Luke didn’t actually want to sit with her and talk about her latest chess match—the son of Hermes loves a good game but has no interest if he’s not the one winning. They both watch you rush back to your seat, the swaying of the bus pushing you farther and faster until you fall away out of sight. 

When she gathers her thoughts, the words lay heavy on her tongue like a hot iron until she spits it out at her older brother. Annabeth Chase sparingly cusses, you see, mostly under her breath and really only when she’s stumped by a situation, especially since she’s only just turned eleven a few months ago—but she looks at him like a foreign object she doesn’t know how to dissect.

“You’ve got nerve, Luke. How do you always fuck up this bad?” Her dark braids drag over her shoulder as she turns to look the other way, away from him.

Luke swallows dryly, biting down on the flesh of his cheek. Between his plan for today and his impeccable timing of monumentally screwing up his relationship with you? 

It’s like Annabeth hit the nail on the head, and he couldn’t agree more.

—

“Alright, places everyone,” you drone, tapping your pen against your clipboard like a gavel before a session in court. The Hall of Gods is just as unruly as your campers when you don’t water down the juice boxes, you realize—Olympians are mulling about the throne room, chattering and making it known that they’d rather be doing who knows what on the only day of the year that it’s mandatory for them to be parents. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you silently agree—there are much better uses of your time that you can think of right now, like making sure to hand Michael his epi-pen before lunch and hoping Connor and Travis aren’t scamming every seller blind at the street-markets of Olympus.

Everyone else is enjoying their free time and you’re…here, watching Apollo, god of music and truth, annoy his twin by sending birds to fly circles around her head. 

Cacophonous laughter startles you, turning to see Hades watching the chaos with his arms crossed over his chest. Draped in black, his chill expression looms over the papers in your hand as he peers at the schedule.

“Siblings, am I right? Sorry you have to deal with mine.”

“Divine Hades,” you bow your head slightly, “they’re erecting your pedestal for the solstice as we speak, I apologize in behalf of—”

He waves a hand dismissively, “No need, child. I know you’re just doing your job. I can wait.”

“Well, I can’t if they’re all acting like children,” you mutter, the both of you watching Zeus bicker with Hera with increasing volume before she storms out, not before addressing the god of the Underworld with a nod.

And he smirks, letting out another laugh that the sound of it quiets the Olympians and sends them towards their seats like obedient students in a classroom. The nymphs are finished pushing the newly-fashioned slab of a throne into position, twelve turning into thirteen and Hades makes his way over as well, gesturing back at you, “Remind me of your name again?”

You say it calmly, clicking your pen. Your dad is sprawled out on his throne, legs over the side as he stares at the ceiling, “Alright princess—let’s get this show on the road.”

“Will we be waiting for…” your voice trails off, briefly looking towards the door.

“Nonsense. I’m sure you can brief her afterwards,” Zeus booms, and you swallow. There goes your lunch break.

“Of course. And Hermes?” You ask, eyes flickering to the only empty seat.

“Working.”

Clearing your throat, you stand tall to address the deities in the room and though you can’t look any of them in the eye, (besides your father that’s already guzzling his fourth cup of ambrosia at eleven in the morning, but you're not any better---you're on your third can of Redbull) it does not deter you from what you came here to accomplish. Might as well do the job well if there’s nothing else to look forward to for today.

You go over the schedule of events like an automated system, not stopping even when Ares starts sighing at the end of your sentences and Demeter sends daggers toward Hades with her eyes. It’s enough to wonder why those without children present today even stay. Formalities, you presume.

“Any questions? Good, I’ll see you all in here at four o’clock,” you quickly say, not giving them a chance to interject—spinning on your heel to walk out of there with even a shrivel left of your patience. 

You find yourself running through your list again by the time you reach the end of the hall: you need to grab the tapestry that cabin 6 wove for their mother’s shrine from the bus, Lee needs help bringing in the harp after lunch, and your brothers need enough wine glasses to fill with water for their performance since they haven’t mastered the conjuring trick so well yet.

Her presence imposes itself upon you before you spot her perched next to the windowsill—the queen of the gods is not meant to be a decorative wallflower, after all. 

“D-divine Hera,” you stutter and stop short, “Would you have a moment to go over the schedule?”

“I know the schedule, child. I’ve been here longer than you. What is it, your fourth year running this thing?” She’s expressionless, maybe even a bit bored with the topic as she looks down at you. You stare at the peacock feather shawl that hangs off her shoulders.

“Third, ma’am.”

Hera smiles (or at least it sounds like she is, talking to her has always felt like twirling on a minefield), “It doesn’t surprise me that all of this falls on a woman. Where’s your husband?”

“My what?” 

You don’t mean to, but your knee-jerk reaction is to look her in the eye and the both of you are surprised by that. Hera’s perfectly arched brows are sky high now, but you haven’t been incinerated yet, so you can deduce that she might like you (or is still contemplating the matter), “The one with the pretty face, such a shame about that scar. You two were inseparable last year, I just assumed…”

With a face on fire, you clear your throat, “Oh. Luke and I aren’t…” Your eyes press closed, hot-red embarrassment brimming into tears you don’t expect to surface. Another reminder that he’s not your…anything right now.

“Mm,” she hums thoughtfully, “Sometimes I forget what year it is. Human societal norms and all that.”

A soft wind billows through the open air, and you hug the clipboard to your chest. You are not about to trauma dump on Hera. Though in a way, she might understand you more than you think.

“I sent him away, I guess. Sometimes it’s much easier to do things alone,” but even you don’t sound convinced. The side of Hera’s lip quirk upwards and she looks at you knowingly, “I agree. Though I guess there are worse things in life than sharing the hard parts with someone you love.” 

Looking down at your shoes, you’re not sure of what else to say. It reminds Hera of her and her husband, before time complicated everything. In the early years, every obstacle feels world-ending until it passes and all you can do is laugh with the person who was by your side. 

“I don’t have to be there later, don’t I?” the queen of the gods mutters. You shrug. Your opinion doesn’t matter, clearly, because she continues, “I don’t have any children in the show that are performing but…I want to be there.”

“I get that,” you say awkwardly, shaking your head to not fumble this conversation further, but she smiles, patting your shoulder as she walks past—it almost feels like a blessing. 

Or maybe she wasn’t even listening to you at all. 

She stops at the end of the hall.

“Trust is a fickle thing, child. It has more value once it’s been broken, and rebuilding it takes two sets of hands. Catch and fall, push and pull, go and follow.” Hera looks back at you again, her white dress swishing at her hips, “Do you agree?”

“I guess.” 

The queen of the gods looks at you thoughtfully, a girl humbly offering her heart out to her divine presence and wanting her partner, a son of Hermes at that— over any glory Olympus can provide. 

Oh, to be young and in love—it makes one invincible.

“Then I hope he makes it worth your while.”

She leaves you to your thoughts and they echo to meet her like a bittersweet greeting. Hera smiles, seeing them run through your head like a video on loop—replacing bloodied bandages in a dark train car, glitter and giggles in a locked room, burnt chocolate chip cookies, and face masks in the dim light of a bathroom. 

The ritual of marriage has definitely changed over the millennia the goddess has lived through, but what you and Luke share is what she considers to be its truest form—that of two souls choosing one another over and over.

—

There’s not a lot of things that can make the herald of Olympus stop in his tracks. He holds as many titles as the letters that fly through his fingertips—though Hermes delivers mail with gratifying ease. The job has always been second nature; being a father…not so much.

But all the power in the world cannot compensate for the fact that you cannot save your children from themselves.

So when he sees you leaning against one of the ornate marble doors outside the Hall of Gods that afternoon, he wills himself to join you in real time. Infinite versions of himself scatter across the Earth with every second that passes. But you look familiar, and well, the trickster loves solving a good puzzle.

“I know you,” he says matter of factly, yet he can’t put his finger on it. His voice is deep, like a howling wind; it blows your hair back even when he stands still in front of you. Your gaze lifts from your clipboard to travel across his face briefly, but you don’t look him in the eye. You can’t even if you wanted to—incineration by divine form and all, so you weren’t about to test your luck with him. Tempting though—you’ve heard enough about Luke’s father to want to burn holes through the god’s head like he could yours.

“Shouldn’t you be inside with the other campers for the rest of the show?” Hermes prompts again, despite your silence. He is the god of communication after all. But there’s not a single thing you could think of telling him besides, “Shouldn’t you? Your kids have been waiting all year to see you.” Mortal lifetimes pass in the blink of an immortal’s eye—but he can’t spare a few minutes to see his kids? Hermes shrugs, like it’s nothing of the sort. Nothing he can do about it. Olympus takes priority. 

“The work never stops. You would know that.”

There’s a startling shriek that escapes from the seam of the doorway as little Will Solace shuffles through the doorway shyly. He tugs at your sleeve, keeping his head bowed and mumbles your name, “Where’s the bathroom?” The god replies to the kid instead, looking at the tiny fractals of light that reflect off the boy’s hair, “Uhhh…down the stairs and to the left, fourth door.”

“Need me to go with you buddy?”

He squeezes your hand and shakes his head, undeterred by the fact he interrupted your conversation with an Olympian, instead going to hop down the stairs without looking at either of you, “Miranda tried to sing again. She should really just stick to plants.” 

Perhaps the presence of gods isn't as impressive to a mortal when their godrent regularly visits them.

“So why exactly did you want to speak with me?”

You cross your arms and lean against the cool wall and wonder why Luke’s dad is still in front of you. After all, he has to have better things to do than make conversation with a moping girl with a workload stacked to the heavens.

Hermes repeats your name slowly as if he’s memorizing the way it sounds coming off his lips, “You look a little lost. So much so that it made me take a moment here with you.”

“I’m right where I need to be unfortunately, so…thanks but no thanks.” He’s the god of many domains—finding lost things being one of them, good luck being another, among the others. He can feel—actually, he knows that you’re searching for something even if you yourself don’t know what it is. The force that summons him to you feels thick, like quicksand that pulls him in planting his winged feet to the ground. Hermes observes your standoffish attitude and wonders if he’s offended you somehow. 

Pushing down the yearning you feel for his son who sits inside the marble doors, you wonder if it would’ve hurt less had Hermes not made your want known to you, an ugly, embarrassing thing that feels like a lump in your throat. His caduceus vibrates loudly in his pocket and with a sleight of hand it appears in front of him, clacking buttons. It’s annoying to be treated like an inconvenience, especially in a time of need. Like father, like son, you suppose.

But unfortunately he’s right. You’re a lost little thing, mind scrambled from this hellish week and where you left off with Luke. You want him with you in all senses of the term, both right now as you glare at his father and in the way one breathes air through their lungs—autonomic, because you simply can't help it. Hermes looks at you again, scratching at his ear as if everything about standing in front of you is making his ears ring, “Who do you belong to again?” He’s trying to remember where he’s seen you before. The sound of trumpets pierce your ears when the door opens again, this time Castor catching his breath as he calls your name, “Hey. Where’s the little pipsqueak? 7’s going on soon.” Everyone seems to know you except him. 

How intriguing.

Rolling your eyes, you grumble, “Bathroom. Go back inside Cas.”

“See that’s the problem, Luke asked me where you are, should I tell him you’re…” The blond looks at who you’re speaking to and swallows, “busy?”

“That’s it. You’re Luke’s girl—” the frown that deepens on your face makes him pause, “I thought your name was Trouble?” The god looks even more confused, scratching his goatee—his son, through his nightly devotions, has asked for a lot of things from him in his short lifetime. The realization comes to the forefront of Hermes’ mind like a thumbtack pierced through a map as you respond. 

“Sometimes.”

In the past year, Luke’s narrowed it down to two things: to guide him onto the right path in life and to make sure you live well enough to be on it with him. That’s what was sacred to him—but Hermes could only see himself fulfilling one of them, if we’re being honest here: an unfortunate trick of the trade.

You grimace—maybe being in there and facing Luke would be better than having this conversation with his deadbeat dad.

“Only with him,” Castor smirks, and you shove your brother towards the stairs to go find Will. 

“How did you know that, anyway?”

Hermes chuckles, looking you up and down as if seeing you clearly for the first time, “His thoughts are even louder than yours. Even though he probably has nothing nice to say about me, he thinks about you all the time, that son of mine.”

“And what do you do then? Let it fall on deaf ears?”

“Listen, I’m not allowed to meddle,” he murmurs, a twitching hand ghosting over your shoulder. He wonders if can offer comfort —you know Luke better than the idea he has of him in his head, the glimpses of his son’s life that he’s allowed himself to see. You’ve been there these past few years to live it with him. Hermes swallows, retracting his arm to put it back against his side. The door swings open again—and it’s your father this time, cradling a wine glass that fills with ambrosia when he swirls it in his grasp.

“Kid, what’s the holdup—where’s the little sunspot and Thing 2?” Mr. D raises his glass with a grin, clapping his best friend on the back— “Hermes, my friend. Making a pit stop?” 

This just got even weirder—your head starts to spin a bit. 

Talk about a nightmare blunt rotation.

Between their lighthearted banter, Will and Castor skipping up the stairs towards you, and Pollux popping his head out of the doorway to yank the glass out of your dad’s hand (“SISSY! He’s drinking my musical instrument!”), you shut your eyes to center yourself. This might be the worst day of your life. Chaos becomes you and your blood is boiling at being surrounded by too many men when the only one you care about won’t even lo—

“Kid, you okay?”

Breathing heavily, you don’t realize you’ve clenched your hands into tight fists, and your dad doesn't know what to do. There's a thought that passes his mind as swiftly as his friend can scale the world that Luke would know what to do. Mr. D doesn't mean to, but he scoffs under his breath, shaking hand extending to reach out to an equally trembling shoulder and you flinch before it makes contact. 

"M'fine, I just need a second to think."

Pressing your palms into the pits of your eyes, your father watches you inhale a breath that seems to calm the storm brewing in your core, even for a moment, “Cas, take Will inside for his cabin’s performance. D, next time, don’t touch things that aren’t yours,” you say calmly as you conjure another glass of water and hand it to Pollux, not before taking a few sips to steady your resolve and perfect the tone of the vibrations. 

Sip. 

Too sharp. 

Sip. 

Perfect.

Putting the now fully functional instrument of water in your brother’s hand, he happily walks back through the door and now you’re just left with two gods that look at you somewhat impressed. 

“Can I help you with anything else, or are you both just going to waste my time?” Tapping your foot, your face is expressionless again, any previous traces of emotion wiped clean.

“Princess, you know you could talk—”

“Nope,” you protest, “Nothing’s wrong at all. Just ready to get this day over with.” It’s rude and to the point, but you have no patience left, “ and all offense D, I’m not gonna talk about my boy problems with you, and especially not you,” you grit pointing at Hermes, “neither of you would get it and I don’t even fully get it, and partially you two are the reason why we’re like this!”

“What did Luke do?” your dad says incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. He’s sobering up from the buckets of ambrosia he’s consumed—itching to find out about what the golden boy could ever do to agitate you like this.

The gods will never know what it feels like to love someone like this—every fiber of your mortal being constantly anticipating an end without knowing when that is. You sigh helplessly, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I don’t know who I am without you, and he only knows who he is because of you,” spitting the words out like acid, you seethe, “we’re not exactly normal teenagers, you know, so thanks for that. I can handle it from here.”

And you push past the both of them and walk through the marble doors like nothing even happened.

"Makes sense he'd fall for her," Hermes mumbles, “your girl is a force to be reckoned with.” If not a bit insane like his best friend. 

"Yeah. Just remember I can tear your boy limb from limb. Just because she can handle it doesn't mean she should. Pray your kid fixes it or fucks off. " It’s the truth—poor Penthus was just an example of Dionysus’ contradictory behavior. Ruthless punishments were like a walk in the park for your father. A jilted noise escapes Hermes's throat as if his own truth was trying to claw its way up his esophagus. The future of humanity rests on the shoulders of his favorite son, and for once, the messenger god is still---in fear? Guilt?

His thoughts are still trying to catch up with the rest of his body, but as he watches the door shut softly behind you, his winged shoes start to flap to signal his imminent departure.

“He's a good boy. He knows the worth of being loved by the right person at the right time. If he’s anything like me, he’ll cherish it while it lasts,” Hermes smiles as he fades from view, “and if he’s not like me at all—he’ll make sure it’s forever. But it looks like we’ll be in-laws, bestie!”

Mr. D groans, waving him off and conjuring another glass of ambrosia—when he walks in to rejoin everyone for the show, his boys are killing it on the musical glasses. He surveys the crowd, watching Luke Castellan only have eyes for you even in this dark crowded room.

“Shit.”

—

Nights on Olympus are prettier than what you’re used to. The stars are much closer than they would be if you were still on Earth, and they act as a natural nightlamp hanging over the enchanted ceiling of the ballroom you and your kids occupy for your one night stay. Yawning into your fist, you spot Charlie Beckendorf who’s already fallen asleep directly on top of his sleeping bag, sweatshirt on backwards and tennis shoes still on. Offering to take the last thirty minutes of his shift after watching him nod off earlier against a marble column while doing everything in your power to try to fall asleep was a no-brainer. But now that you were actually wanting to stay awake yourself, your eyelids didn’t seem to want to cooperate. 

Figures. Nothing you ever wanted has ever happened the way you wished for.

Sleep pricks at the corner of your eyes like dust from a sandstorm—presumably Hypnos forcing a hand on you getting rest. Here on Olympus he’s only a few doors away, after all.You rub your knuckles into the sockets of your eyes quite unkindly, hoping it’ll do the job. Even blinking is taking an added effort.

Patting your own cheek lightly to stimulate your senses, you cross your arms and decide to take another lap around the room. The rubber of your boots clomp louder with every shaky step and—

Tap-tap. Tap. T-tap.

D is rapping his knuckles against one of the glass doors on the perimeter like he’s playing the drums.

“Shhhh!”

Arms outstretched, you slip past rows of sleeping children, narrowly missing stretched out arms and fallen backpacks as you glare at him, “Are you trying to wake up all of Olympus?”

He looks at you with amusement, rumpled clothing and looking like a tiny, angry raccoon. You must’ve forgotten to take off your eyeliner, but he doesn’t mention it.

He brandishes two cigarettes in his hand and nods toward a door he left ajar leading onto the sprawling, wrap-around patio. And you swear you start floating towards him like an enticed cartoon character—surely you’re dreaming. 

Is there even a designated smoking area on Olympus?

“How long have you known?” 

The words almost slur out of your mouth as you swipe at his fist like a man starved—Mr.D can’t tell what exactly you’re asking. He’s known you’ve smoked since he found ash in the windowsill of his office. He’d known you and Luke have been having problems since you both started to sit at the opposite sides of the room during counselor meetings. Some things about you are harder to catch onto than others, and Mr. D is known for always being a little late to the party.

Dionysus, the god, was a late arrival to the Pantheon. Him as a father, he’s often late to discerning the happenings in his daughter’s life.  But he’s also known that boy has loved you long before he drunkenly stumbled onto his porch. Could smell it off of him— love makes people do crazy things after all. Out of all of your partners, he always thought the golden boy was just as bad—if not worse than you, gods willing. But you two were good kids, and the thought makes him chuckle, “I’ve always been able to read you, kiddo. I get there eventually.”

“Besides when I first showed up at your doorstep.”

“Shock of my life, actually. And that says a lot. You should be honored,” there’s a stupid smile on your father’s face now as he looks out onto the darkened horizon, glittering city lights on the floating mountain top. Olympus has changed in the years he’s been gone from it without him noticing. He looks over to you and realizes you have too—no longer fourteen with your hair sticky from Kool-aid, or multiple sun-tan tattoos. You always liked making a project out of your boredom.

Laughing gruffly—the base of your throat itches and you surface for air sounding like something being strangled. Blame it on the lack of sleep or teenage angst as he so aptly calls your temper tantrums, but he pulls you in to rub your back, leading you further down the walkway with a shushing, soothing coo as you whine, “What if this is the best I can be?”

“You’re nineteen, princess. A hell of a long way to go. To be honest, it gets worse as the years pass.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” you groan, smacking your head against the cool marble. “That's like a blink for you. For me it feels like I’m constantly getting off on the wrong foot. How do you do it?”

He sighs and looks at you—and all of a sudden you see your father’s age in the way he grimaces. Left to do the dirty work, the things the gods don’t want to talk about, meant to endure because every ion of his existence has reeked of resilience. 

Because it’s what’s expected of him. 

You see the resemblance now.

His wrinkles are prominent and eyebags are heavy when he doesn’t fortify the image of a silly asinine man as he lets it all melt away in front of you.

You light a cigarette and puff life into the lit end to burn the other one, breathing out and handing it over. Smoke billows around the two of you as you lean against the marble railing—-but nothing has ever been so clear. It rolls through your lungs, warming you inside and out. You lean your head against his shoulder.

“I think you could shake this whole place up if you wanted to. Never met a more stubborn kid in my life,” your dad mutters, jostling when you elbow him, “I mean it. For a lack of better words, you’re a once in a lifetime kind of girl.” He’s not looking at you, but the sentiment wavers in the air and settles slowly until you learn to appreciate it. 

“You mean that?”

D has had a share of his own struggles, from being ejected from his mother and birthed from Zeus’ thigh, to being curb stomped by Hera herself, and of course the occasional trip to the Underworld. Suddenly your life pales in comparison. 

“Get that look off your face and stop thinking so badly of yourself. Life is not a dress rehearsal—just give it your best. I'll be in the wings for as long as you need me,” he swallows, “If you want that. I’m the only one dealing with this prison sentence, anyway.”

“I would like that.”

The god scratches his neck before dragging his Birkenstocks toward the door, swiveling to point at you, “Get to bed. You've got an early morning tomorrow.”

“I know. Is that an order?” 

“Yeah, twerp,” he mutters, lingering by the glass, “Quitting cold turkey is never fun. Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. I've always been more of the type to go and get it myself though.”

“Cold turkey,” you repeat, nodding distantly. 

Letting go means to accept that you let it in. And if you’re not ready to let it go, fight for it. 

For a bunch of wordweavers, you both suck at talking to each other. It must be an Olympus thing to talk in riddles, but you’ve never been deterred by a challenge. Your fragmented conversation means a lot more than he’ll ever know. With a newfound appreciation for your dad, you smile and take a few puffs of the cigarette, taking a seat against the wall to let everything sink in. The comfortable weight of nicotine in your lungs lulls you to sleep, a momentary reprieve from everything. 

You swear you shut your eyes for just a second. Just a moment—to rest them a tiny bit.

And Luke slips out the glass doors in the other direction towards the throne room without you noticing.

When you wake up, it’ll all be over.

—

It’s snowing by the time Luke comes back. Biggest day of his life—something he’s been waiting for for months now, and it was just too goddamn easy.

And yeah, Luke understood that it is so irrevocably wrong to steal from the gods. 

But then why was it so easy?

Of course, it was all thanks to you. You don’t know it, but you helped the pieces fall into their perfect places. Keeping you up last night with the fight and leaving you to your own devices all day kept you indifferent enough about him to not notice the smaller details—him switching the night shift schedule around to his liking and making you the only obstacle between him and the Master Bolt and the Helm of Darkness (well, Ares was too, but onto more important things).

Everything happens for a reason, right? 

Getting on your last nerve has always been easy, and though he hates seeing you cry—it almost makes him feel guilty that there’s a certain thrill that soars through him when you two fight. You love him like how you argue, with an unbridled passion he loves to sink his teeth into.

And he loves you. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. So despite the tear in his side that makes him clench his teeth, his first objective after his completed mission is to sidle over to your slumped form with a smile. Luke slings his jacket over your body and wraps his arm to bring your head against his shoulder. The grounds are weather-protected like at camp, yet a few stray snowflakes still catch onto your hair. You stir, “Lu?”

“I’m here. Not leaving you.”

If salvation could manifest itself into something akin to human form, perhaps it would still look like a god. Being saved is a feeling unfamiliar to Luke—the only person he was always sure could save your ass was himself.  But he wants this, you nestled against him for as long as you want, until his arms ache and pins and needles ravage his body. Luke knows he would crawl to the ends of this earth and the next if it means he’ll be with you. 

Gambling with fate will be worth it if he can find a way to make this love last forever. 

This has to work. You did what you had to do, he thinks.

Sniffing, he kisses your forehead and his jacket faintly smells of smoke. Snowflakes dot his eyelashes and he rubs your arms to make sure you’re warm, “Let you sleep longer. Looks like you needed it.”

“How long have I been asleep?” you say groggily. His thumbs wipe at your eyelids gently with the hem of a fresh shirt, “Don’t worry. I took care of everything.”

It makes him grimace, emotional manipulation and a quick escape—hello Hermes!

“I’m tired, Luke.”

He sighs, and you turn to him, the both of you knee to knee, slowly being illuminated by a blanket of cool toned hues from the rising sun, “I know. Let me make it better, baby.”

Wistfully, you tangle your fingers with his in the space between you as if sealing a vow. 

”Every future I envision includes you with me. I need you to know that.” 

Overwhelmed by the events of the night, hell, these past few months—Luke starts to cry. A single rivulet cascading on the cheek adjacent to his scar and you catch it by pressing your lips to his jaw.

“Could you still love me?”

Inching closer, he feels as if you’re not close enough even when you’re breathing against the nape of his neck like this and you mumble, “You’re saying that like I ever stopped, angel.” The line blurs with each breath he takes—to earn a spot to walk amongst the gods, to live a completely ordinary life, or to be stuck in the strawberry fields of Delphini Farms forever. Luke was never awarded the privilege to want for himself before he met you, the absolution to all his wrongdoings. He can feel the quaking of your jaw under his fingertips as he slowly turns you to face him and all you have left to give him is a shattered breath.

“No matter what?”

Pressing his lips to yours as an apology feels like being saved. Lightly, until he pours himself into it and you relent, until the only thing that matters to you is that he’s with you now. Luke would merge your souls right now if he could—a tangled mess of eight limbs and head to head and everything is as it should be.

“Even if you don’t sit with me on the bus,” you smirk. He scoffs, kissing you harder and locking his lips with yours feverishly before resting much gentler ones against your tired eyes, “Oh don’t worry. Can’t get rid of me that easily, Trouble.”

A new day breaks on the horizon the longer you stay out there. But he takes these last final moments and keeps them under lock and key for safekeeping. You leave Olympus in a few hours, and by then there’ll be no time for regrets—his perfect crime with his perfect partner.

—

"I weep because you cannot save people. You can only love them." -Hanya Yanagihara

[sonotdaiisy]

TAKE A GUESS ⸺ Haerin x reader

Asking your supposed enemy who she has a crush on

GENRE ⸺ Fluff, enemies to lovers (ish)

WARNINGS ⸺ short, I’ll make like three short posts while I’m actually writing something long :P, wrote this at like 3am so it’s barely proofread, saw an imagine on Pinterest and decided to do it, so just the idea isn’t mine but lowk the entire plotting is :D, wrote on an app called notion I think (a friend recommended) so that’s why there are spaces TT

WC ⸺ 1.3K

You’re going to be honest. Haerin was really intimidating. Everything about her just screams “don’t talk to me or I’ll kill you”. Her face, her eyes, her glares, the way she talks, literally every single thing about her.

She talks to absolutely no one but you. She’s more playful, sweeter, annoying and teasing towards you.

Everyone including you has no idea how and why she started to talk to you.

One time when another school came to your school just for a basketball match, rumors spread that Haerin liked someone from the opposite school leaving everyone in curiosity and thought. But they knew they could never get their answers, no way they were going to walk up to Haerin and asks one of the most irrelevant questions. She’d probably scream or death glare at them. Right now their only option is you.

It was a normal afternoon, you remained in the library to observe break. Drowning yourself in a bunch of novels. Until a person tapped you on the shoulder.

You looked up to see a familiar girl from one of your classes. A small smile plastered on your face so as not to come off as rude or anything like that.

She looked down, embarrassed of what she was about to say next. “Hey umm yn This may seem weird to ask but could you kindly please ask Haerin if the rumors are true? The one about her liking someone from the other school?” She requested shyly.

“Please….you’re the only one she likes, the only one she talks to” she pleaded after seeing your raised eyebrow.

“The only one she likes?! Girl she lowkey hates me“

“But fine whatevs, I’ll ask her about it” you added shutting the Novel that was placed between your palms shut.

“Thank you thank you thank you so much” she thanked a hint of excitement in her tone.

“Yeah” you shortly responded, making your way out of the library to find Haerin.

You were about to go searching round the school until you remembered her favorite spot. The rooftop.

Of course it was her favorite spot in the whole school. She was short from people, short from human interactions.

Just as you thought, you saw Haerin standing by the railings staring down at the others who observed their break; eating, giggling and chatting away.

Moving closed to her, you gave her shoulders a light tap until she whipped her head around to see you.

“What’d you want?” She asked her tone not very welcoming but much rather hostile. It was no big deal since you were pretty much used to it.

“Hey umm I know this may come off as weird, what am I even saying it’s weird but like a girl asked me to ask you if the rumors are accurate you like someone from the other school. You know the school that joined ours during the basketball game that time.” You explained waiting with anticipation for what she was about to say next.

She scoffed looking at you like you had just said the dumbest thing ever. “What are you saying? You’re in my class” she briefly responded turning back to stare down at people.

“Huh? Wait what? What am I supposed to do with this?? That literally just has nothing to do with all this, come on just tell me yes or no?” you demanded but all you got in response was a shrug.

“I’m not telling you, take a guess from the hint”

A small scoffed escaped your lips. You were almost on the verge of smacking her head. What does this all have to do with you? You’re in her class, yes you can totally see that.

Without asking too much you left the roof top now on another mission to find the girl.

It was as if the girl was spying on you because the next thing you knew you got jump scared by her on your way down the staircase.

“Oh my I’m so sorry for the sudden jump scare” she apologized scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“So what did she say? Is it a yes or no? Did she even answer? Did she leave you on a cliff hanger?” She babbled not taking breaks.

“Yes she did leave me on a cliffhanger”

“You mean she didn’t tell you if she did or not?” The girl asked raising an eyebrow.

“Not that she didn’t tell me, all she said was and I quote. ‘What are you saying? You’re in my class’ “ you repeated the words from earlier.

“Wait what’s that supposed to mea— wait you don’t get that?!” The girl asked her eyes widening in shock.

“Duh”

“You’re literally so dense” she added shaking her head before waking off.

“Umm that’s rude of you to also put me on a cliffhanger you know?!!” You yelled from up the staircase hoping she’d hear from wherever she is.

Everything seemed irritating to you maybe because you still didn’t understand what Haerin and the other girl meant earlier.

“You’re in my class, you’re….in….my…class” you repeated the words slowly analyzing each words.

“You’re, me, in, my, her, class…. This whole shit if confusing!” You ruffled your hair in frustration constantly playing the memory from the roof top again.

And then it clicked. “YOU ARE IN HER CLASS!!” You gasped quietly. “I’m the person she likes!!” you mumbled to yourself.

After finally understanding the statement, you find yourself growing more and more impatient as the last period seemed to be taking forever.

Finally it came to an end, Haerin had dashed out of the class before you knew it.

You fumbled with the zip of your bag, darting your eyes to the door, praying you won’t loose sight of the girl.

After successfully packing your bags you rushed out of the class, stumbling and bumping into people on the way.

You dashed out of the school glancing around once you thought you’ve lost sight of Haerin until you saw her by the sidewalk with her headphones plugged in.

You finally caught up to her, tapping her on the shoulders to get her attention. She turned around slowly removing her headphones. “Yeah?”

“Wait…. What you said earlier—“

“I thought I told you I’m not giving you any more hint”

“Yeah I know, I just wanted to know if it was true or not” you asked biting the inside of your cheeks.

“What do you think? Of course it was!” She stated turning to face front, walking away from you.

You sighed in frustration catching up to her again. This time stopping her by holding her arm stopping her in her tracks.

“I thought I already told you—“

“So does this mean we’re together?” You asked softly looking her in her eyes. “Like you’re my girlfriend now?” You added.

A hint of softness and warmth could be seen in her eyes. She was a bit confused at first but when realization hits, she blushed a bit at your statement. “So you like me back?” She asked confirming just to be sure.

You nodded smiling at her.

Before you could even move she pulled you closer, drawing you into a really tight hug. “Yes it means you’re my girlfriend”

She pulled away noticing someone from the same school as the both of you standing behind you with a bouquet of flowers and chocolates, a blush spread across his face.

“YN these are for you…I’ve liked you for a really long time now… would you be my—“

“Ah ah ah! She’s not straight, plus she’s my girlfriend so back off!” She scowled judging the boy up and down.

The boy nodded running away in embarrassment earning a satisfied smirk from Haerin. “Just as I thought”

[anachronismstellar]

Just in case no one asked yet: You could feed us, the like 3 WarPlane fans in a trenchcoat?

Mayyybe even some LQG POV? A little bit of "Why I want to fight him so bad?" with a pinch of misundertandings? 🥺

Oh. I just realized that all of the SQH gotta get them all asks I wrote in the Peak Lord POVs fjsbskdnsm

Anyway, WarPlane with a side of fighting and misunderstanding, right away! :D

Also a little bit kinda of a sequel to this post

Omg sorry it took so long but this one is a big boy fksnskdns I hope you like it <3

------

Shang Qinghua didn't show up next morning.

Or the other one.

Or the other.

Then he had to go on a mission, followed by another one, and when he blinked it had been weeks since that day in Shang Qinghua’s office.

So Liu Qingge decided to take matters to his own hands.

Because Liu Qingge wasn't stupid as Shen Qingqiu was so fond of calling him. He knew that he had a strong presence, and at any given opportunity, Shang Qinghua would run away from him as if Liu Qingge were a Demon.

Except.

Except when he had caught the other by surprise.

The scene kept coming back to his mind during training and during... Some odd moments.

During training it made sense. He kept chasing the rush of being thrown on the ground, excitement running through his bones at the possibility of finding a new sparring partner, making his heart race. It also opened his eyes for his weakness in hand to hand combat, a skill he had to confess he had been neglecting. Part because his sword training took so much of his time already, part because people hardly dared to walk towards him in an empty corridor, to dare punch him in a spar match would be unthinkable, apparently.

The other times that were a bit confusing. In the past days, he would be writing a report and the smell of ink would make him pause and think of strong arms pressing his hands against the floor. Or during their peak lord meetings, he would stare at Shang Qinghua, thinking how to drag him to training but instead of imagining an exercise routine his brain would get stuck on the memory of thighs embracing his waist.

He drew the line when the scene came up to him during his bath, making him hot all over even though he was using snow water.

BANG!

He barged into the room with sword in hand, ready to drag the other to the training grounds if needed to, being greeted by the rarest sigh of all times.

Shang Qinghua's office with no Shang Qinghua on sight.

"I-I tried to tell you, Liu-shishu, shizun is not here today," a girl wearing the white robes of the head disciples stopped by his side, panting, as if she had ran after him all the way from the rainbow bridge. "He's with the little ones, so please, if you want I can schedule-"

"Nonsense, I'm going to see him now," he turned to look at the kid, a bit impressed she didn't crumbled in fear by his glare. Although she seemed to be as tired as her Shizun, she had a lot of more spine by the way she put her hands on her hips now that she had recovered her breath, ready to scold him.

"Liu-shishu might be able to push his way through in other peaks, but here we do things by the book. You can either schedule an appointment or leave."

This is why he had wanted to see Shang Qinghua directly, he didn't have the patience to go through all the bureaucracy An Ding was so fond of.

So he took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to not tap his foot at the kid just doing her job.

"Very well, when can I see him?"

She made a point of flipping her sleeves while passing by him to get to Shang Qinghua's desk, opening a small but thick booklet, flipping all the way to the end while humming. Then, with a smile that was eerily similar to Shang Qinghua's when he was about to scream at them about damage reparations, she said:

"He's free next month, on the third week, would that work for you?"

Liu Qingge squinted his eyes at her as he licked this teeth, making a tsk sound.

It felt as if she was lying. And at the back of his head he could hear Shen Qingqi dry chuckle.

"Nevermind," he turned around to leave the building, not bothering to wait for her reply. She wanted to play games and help Shang Qinghua hide from him? Fine. If words didn't work, he would use the good old intimidation.

"You!" He shouted at the first yellowed robe person he saw, pointing at them with his sword. "Where's Shang Qinghua?"

"Liu-shishu-" the boy tried to bow without stumbling on his feet while two disciples ran past them, pulling each other by their robes while whispering: "Liu-shishu? Really?!" and "Fuck yes I'm gonna get so much money-".

Honestly, cursing in front of your elders? The kids had no respect nowadays.

But he had no time to educate the youth.

"Where. Is. Shang Qinghua?"

The boy- because he couldn't be older than sixteen, stuttered while pointing at the west side of the mountain, slowly but surely trying to back away from Liu Qingge.

Not on his watch.

"Show me," he said as he put his sword away. It took him some minutes and a glare but he got the boy to start walking, guiding him all the way to a smaller house where he could hear children laughing, some of them running around a garden.

And in the middle of a huge group was Shang Qinghua, a low table set in front of him, surrounded by smaller ones as a group of kids seemed to be having a class.

Shit.

Before he could stop it, the An Ding disciple hurried to Shang Qinghua, whispering and then pointing his head at Liu Qingge's direction. And like candles being blown by wind, one by one, the kids started to quiet down, their huge eyes turning to look at Liu Qingge.

Was... Was he that scary?

"Okay, everyone, off you go. Class dismissed. And remember to finish your numbers today, I will check them!" Shang Qinghua said with a clap of hands, breaking the heavy mood with a bright smile. He helped some of the children clean up until an older disciple arrived, taking over the group.

Liu Qingge could feel he had ruined a precious moment. Realms, it might have been the first time he had seen Shang-Shixiong smiling, relaxed. And he actually felt bad when his theory was proved right by the way Shang Qinghua calmly walked towards Liu Qingge, his smile dropping as he tilted his head down, a deep sigh moving his broad shoulders.

"Liu-shidi," and right when he got closer enough, his usual too polite smile back on being plastered on his face.

"Shang-Shixiong."

"What can this one do for his shidi today?"

Liu Qingge felt his heart skip a beat before picking up speed. He shouldn't make him so tense, it was Shang Qinghua for Heavens sake!

Besides, he had thought about this for weeks. He had rehearsed lines and proposals, and he would never admit, but he even asked Mu Qingfang how to talk to Shang-Shixiong, he was ready, he-

"Fight me."

Maybe Shen Qingqiu had a point.

"I'm sorry?" Shang Qinghua blinked a couple of times before putting his hands up, waving them in front of him as he took a step back. "I'm sorry! Is this about the day in the office?! I'm so sorry shidi, I swear I am! Please don't-"

"I mean in a spar," he managed to spit it out, crossing and then uncrossing his arms, forcing his hands to stay down and relaxed. "This one is requesting his Shixiong to help him train in hand to hand combat."

Then he bowed, frowning at Shang Qinghua's surprised gasp. What was this with everyone thinking he was a brute?! He had manners! Has everyone forgotten he was from a noble family?!!

"Liu-shidi honors this one with such request, but I'm not good, really! It was uhh luck! I could never teach Liu-shidi in the matters of fighting-"

"Why not? Shang-Shixiong clearly has the knowledge, and I have just seen that he is a good teacher. Why you can't teach me your techniques?"

Shang Qinghua grumbled something he couldn't understand about changing points and skills, pressing his finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose as the other hand waved something to his side.

"Fine, Liu-shidi. You do have a point. But we are not going to go to do it at Bai Zhan Peak. I don't want this to be a big thing."

"Very well. Where should we meet then?"

"Tomorrow, their teacher will be back from their mission," he explained with a tilt of his head towards the house. "I'll have the morning free. We can meet at my house and use my garden, no one will disturb us there."

"I'll look forward to Shixiong's lessons."

They said their goodbyes, off to their duties. Liu Qingge again went back to staring at walls, tapping his fingers over his crossed arms, unable to focus on his disciples drills, deciding to go hunting to see if he could shake off his nervous energy to no avail. At night, he kept tossing and turning, and no meditation technique or set of exercises helped him to rest.

The next morning he felt as if he were a ball of condensed energy, ready to bounce and run towards An Ding Peak.

"Shizun? Are you okay?" his head disciple asked at some point during breakfast, a healthy distance away from him.

He finished his meal in less than three bites, leaving the table with just a "I'm going to An Ding Peak" as explanation, ignoring his Head Disciple calling for him.

And what if he flew instead of walking? He had an appointment with his fellow peak lord, no one would dare to comment on his eagerness.

"Liu-shidi, come in," Shang Qinghua greated him as soon as he set foot on the ground, waiting for Liu Qingge by the door.

The usual yellow robes were nowhere to be seen, swapped by a practical dark gray uniform, tighter to not get in the way of their fighting. And without the additional loose layers, it was impossible for Shang Qinghua to hide his broad chest and tonned thighs, strong enough to carry boxes and boxes of documents and parcels.

Strong enough to trap Liu Qingge and sque-

"I've set aside some clothing for you, so you don't dirty yours while we train," Shang Qinghua interrupted Liu Qingge unexpected thought, but still, the rest of the sentence echoed in his head. What was that?!, he through as Shang Qinghua walked them through the house until they reached an internal garden, lush grass covering the entire floor but for one patch of dirty right in the middle.

"Thank you," he took the clothing from Shang Qinghua's hands, looking around, doing his best to not stare at the other. "Where can I change?"

"There's a room right there, you can call me if you need any help."

Right.

No time to nonsense, he was waiting for this for a while now, he would learn as much as he could.

The offer for help wasn't necessary, the uniform was pretty straightforward to put on, nothing like Peak Lord clothing. He ignored the tingling down his spine when the picture of Shang Qinghua helping him undress came to his mind, leaving the room to face his opponent for the morning.

Shang Qinghua, with his legs in a split, stretching.

He felt his face warm up.

"Okay, shidi!" Shang Qinghua got up in a small jump, rotating his shoulders with a satisfying cracking sound. "Better start easy, I know you can handle, but hand to hand is a bit different than sword fighting. Now, stand up like this, good! Spread your legs a bit more- perfect."

They haven't started yet, and he was already sweating.

The first long minutes was just like any other martial class, Shang Qinghua helped him with posture, correcting his pose here and there. It was an odd sensation to have his usually skittish Shixiong touching him so freely, moving his body around without caring about Liu Qingge grunts or scared of Liu Qingge pushing back.

"Okay, this is for the basics. Do you remember the leg movement?"

Liu Qingge nodded as he pushed his hair out of the way, the strands sticking to his neck, itching his skin. Maybe that's why Shang Qinghua kept his hair up, because it had barely been an hour, and it felt as if he had been training for days.

They got into position again, Shang Qinghua letting him start the fight and run towards him to get tackled so Qingge could practice what he had learned. And, he understood where Shang-shishu was coming from by holding himself back.

But at the same time he was frustrated. He could feel under Shang Qinghua's skin a strength he had never felt from the other peak lord, an agility that took Liu Qingge breath away, and an intelligence to use Liu Qingge's own body and weight against him that he wished his disciples could see.

If anyone had told him that, of all the twelve peak lord's, Shang Qinghua was the one he would be considering to give lessons on his peak, he would have laughed at the person's face.

Now look at him, chest once more on the ground, wheezing as the air got knocked out of his lungs with Shang Qinghua pressed him down, fingers digging the back of his neck while the other arm hugged him by the waist, and powerful thighs hold down his legs.

"You're getting better each fight, Shidi," Qinghua gasped next to his ear, body sliding all over Liu Qingge's back. "You're going to master this in no time."

Liu Qingge could feel something shift, the air between them getting heated. Yes they're fighting, but he felt more as if he were about to face a dangerous creature instead of sparing with a fellow cultivator.

"Another round?" Qinghua's voice rumbled against his back, and Liu Qingge couldn't keep his eyes open, arching his back just enough so he could feel Qinghua's body pressed all over him. "Or we can take a break, we did good progress."

"No!" He used his legs to twist his body, their spar becoming more shoving and pushing than an actual martial fight. Then, in a moment of luck, Liu Qingge finally trapped Shang Qinghua.

Just like the first time they fought, they stayed frozen for a long moment, but this time with Liu Qingge on top, victory tasting like dirty and sweat. He realized that he should get up, their faces so close they were sharing the same air, Qingge's eyes caughting the glimpse of Qinghua's tongue.

His arms went numb and his brain got deafening quiet as he got just a tiny little closer, just-

Shang Qinghua raised his legs until they seized Liu Qingge by his waist, twisting their bodies again until Qinghua was on top, one hand immobilizing one of Qingge's legs by pushing it up until his knee was almost touching his chest, the other pinning both of his wrists to the ground.

"Seems like Shidi lost." And Liu Qingge was starting to think he had hit his head during their fight because... Who was this man? Where this confidence came from?!

And most importantly, why was it making him so- So!!

Oh.

Oh no.

"Is Liu-Shidi satisfied with the lesson?" Shang Qinghua smiled, and this time it was the furthest thing from his usual blank one. Oh, no, this smile was of a man who was about to have a feast.

And Liu Qingge was laying in a silver plate.

"Hmm. Liu-shidi did very well. This Shixiong thinks he deserves something nice for being such a good student," he said as he pressed his body down a bit more, tearing a moan from Qingge's throat. "What do you think, shidi? Would you like to have another round? Maybe somewhere a bit more... Comfortable?"

The line was cheesy, something straight out of one of his sister's books, and it shouldn't work, it shouldn't-

It shouldn't work but Liu Qingge felt himself nod, whispering "Yes" over and over again, moaning as Shang Qinghua threw him over his shoulder, carrying him all the way to his room.

And if he had gone back to more lessons later that week, and the week after that, well. He wouldn't be War God of Bai Zhan if he passed the opportunity of a good fight, right?

[killuakiru]

KILLUA AND KURAPIKA HCS for an s/o that gets quiet when she feels left out and jealous? Like when she’s upset she’ll just stop talking unless you talk to her first and she can be rlly sensitive about it 😔 (I’m going thru a weird time dude)

ANYWAYS THANK YOU BYE HAVE FUN TAKE CARE DRINK WATER!💦‼️

HELLO !! Not to fear, for kiru is here to feed you !! ( I hope you're doing okay pookie, thank u for requesting this ily <3 ) I will generalize reader as an introvert here !!! Okay chat I double post since I will be busy tmr !! I will come back prbly during Sunday or Monday !! No promises tho,,, ( PLEASE REQUEST MORE ALKJSDN )

⊹₊⋆ Jealousy is a Strong Emotion!ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Gn!Reader x K.Zoldyck, K.Kurtaᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

╰┈➤ What they do when their s/o grows quiet during a gathering !

༉‧₊˚. Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Honestly, with how engrossed he is during the conversation, it takes him a painfully long while to notice that you have suddenly became so quiet and just stared off into the distance.

• When he does though, it's either half way during the conversation, or long AFTER the gathering.

• It's not that he isn't watching over you or paying attention to you, you know that full well because he has his hand intertwined in yours the whole gathering.

• It's js that, sometimes he gets so excited over seeing his friends after a long time, you can't blame the boy! D:

• When he finds out, he instantly assures you, mumbling a soft "I'm sorry if I made you feel left out. Just tell me next time, okay? I got you."

• He isn't the best at giving assurance, and it's painfully obvious. But give him time, you're his first time in literally everything!!

• What happened during though? This is the scenario :

• It was when the og trio + Alluka had finally decided to meet up after all these days. Killu and Alluka was the most ecstatic to finally meet Gon, and you were too! To finally meet one of your best friends after a long and hard time is a dream come true to the both of you.

• When you four met, everything was amazing at first! You four conversed a lot, and you four caught up. Then it just soon came so suddenly where you were just listening in the conversation, even while making small comments. They both would just give subtle acts of acknowledgement that didn't really feel like you were being acknowledged, y'know?

• Feeling suddenly left out despite having a hand in Killua's hand, you grew quiet and upset. The two of them seemed to be having so much fun talking amongst each other, and that's understandable. Inevitably, they were both closer because they were boys, and it is said that two of the same gender get along easily, that's how you and Alluka got along quickly, after all.

• Speaking of Alluka, she was the one that noticed your sudden distance, she tried to tell her beloved older brother, only to be stopped by said significant other, whispering a gentle and soft : "It's okay, Alluka. Let your brother enjoy."

• Alluka gives you a sad expression and hugs you, what a cutie she is, seriously. You absolutely love each other so much, it was so precious.

• After the interaction and you three were heading back, Alluka marched to her older brother with an angry look and pout, upon noticing this, Killua automatically went into internal panic mode. "Your a big meanie, brother!" She exclaims with a huff, making Killua blink twice in confusion, "Wh- Huh? What do you mean, Alluka?" Killua asked in genuine confusion plastered on his face.

• "You made yn cry!" Alluka exclaimed, COMPLETELY exaggerating your reaction. Face palming when Killua whipped his face to your direction, "I didn't cry, Alluka.." You mumbled in an exasperated manner, removing your hand from your face to look at Alluka. "But you were going to!" "Was not." "Are too!"

• "Can we normalize explaining before making conclusions?! What is happening?!" Killua exclaimed to the two girls before him and whipping his face from Alluka and to you. "You were ignoring yn!" Alluka exclaimed in a straightforward manner, running to you and hugging your waist while giving Killua an upset pout, as if she was the one that was being left out.

• "..Well that's the short story, I guess..? It's- it's nothing. Just felt, dunno, left out when you and Gon were just barely acknowledging me. Could be that I'm just tired so let's just go back.." You hesitantly explained and kept things hidden, mostly because you didn't want to annoy Killua for being so easily saddened. Gently grabbing Alluka's hand, you three silently walked back to the inn you three lived in for a few days.

• Upon arriving back, Alluka headed straight for her bed, leaving you and Killua alone face to face, literally. "I'll uh.. go back to bed now, see you." You mumbled awkwardly, "..sorry, yn." He whispers in a sincere manner, leaving you a bit dumbfounded. "..are you seriously Killua?" You say in a subtle baffled manner, blinking twice, receiving a light-hearted glare from Killua.

• "I didn't think you'd feel that way. Truth be told, I thought you didn't want to be pestered by us, so I just gave you subtle looks.. so I'm sorry, that was on my end, too." Killua mumbles sheepishly, walking towards you and pulling you into a gentle hug. "Clearly, I'm not the best with these, and you can see how stiff and awkward I am.. but be more vocal with it, it's hard to understand someone so quiet like you.. Just tell me next time, okay?" Killua says in a hushed tone, and you reciprocated his hug.

• Breathing in his scent, he smelled like a bed of Gardenias, it was always so comforting. "Thank you, Killua." You softly whispered into his ear and you felt his head nod. "I got you, yn. Always."

༉‧₊˚. Kurapika Kurta !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Kurapika is definitely one to notice instantly.

• You CANNOT tell me this man doesn't have some sixth sense when it comes to you.

• He's genuinely so charming whenever he assures you that his intentions aren't to leave you out of the conversation or gathering.

• I think he's very intelligent when it comes to emotions such as distress and saddened emotions, so he takes care of you very well.

• He's a very busy guy so plzplz be patient w him too !!

• But he and I can assure you that he loves you very much and would sacrifice so much for u !!

• This is probably what happened :

• It was probably during one of his missions as a Bounty Hunter. You were with him because, well, you too were a Bounty Hunter, and it's your job!

• But you can't help but feel upset after he dismissed one of your many plans once again because some other member had a plan too, yours was a brilliant plan too!

• After your probably 5th plan being dismissed by your beloved, you had grown silent and decided to just close yourself off and listen. This, was most definitely noticed by Kurapika.

• He faced your awfully distant expression, he knew what was wrong, he just couldn't speak up because you both were doing your job, to successfully do this mission, you both had to pay close attention to the details.

• Evening soon fell upon the Hunters, and the mission came to a commence, and you were both paired up ( As per Kurapika's request, surprisingly. )

• "yn, please tell me what is on your mind." Kurapika gently spoke up, turning to face you as you both walked to your designated location. Snapping out of your hyper-focused trance, you looked at his ever so gentle eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

• "I'm okay, Kurapika." You gave a light-hearted assurance, "There is something weighing your mind, my dear. Please do not be so unkind to yourself and speak what is within your mind.." He ever so softly requests, that vulnerability on his face, the subtle affection and concern hidden in his voice of toughness,

• This all reminded you why you fell in love with Kurapika, the reason why you chose to love each other, because of the very limited times you both show your vulnerable sides, the most sensitive emotions a human can feel.

• "It isn't that serious, Kurapika. It's just that I didn't feel like an equal to everyone after you've quite literally dismissed many of my plans." You explain your feelings in a half hurt and half amusement at how stupid your plans probably are to be dismissed by Kurapika.

• "I see.. I apologize, my dear. My intentions were not to make you feel unimportant, rather to keep your plans as a secret. Your plans are brilliant– extraordinary, even. However I believe that we individually have to discuss it amongst ourselves." Kurapika explains why he was dismissing it, well– more on like being possessive over your knowledge.

• Truth be told, there were some weirdos in the mission you were both in and they had a thing for knowledgeable people, so Kurapika felt heavily possessive over you and ultimately decided to rudely dismiss your plans.

• "Oh.. I see.." You mumbled with a slow nod, blinking twice and looking down, "So.. I didn't sound stupid?" You mumbled, looking for his approval, he softly smiles and nods. "Absolutely not. You have a brilliant mind, my dear. How about we start discussing about your plans? I do wish to know more about the details."

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !