#hehe coughs and giggles

[sqtorux]

gojo 'i am a man too' satoru when you keep teasing him about how he's younger than you and makes it his life mission to prove it.

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They're Drunk|Hyungline

Warnings: Mentioning of alcohol, Complete and utter shanagigans and tomfoolery

Maknaeline

Chan|

“Hehe.” You snapped your head back, looking for the owner of the noise that just blessed your ears. When you couldn’t find the perpetrator you turned back to cutting up vegetables for the soup you were making.

“Hehe.” 

You turn around again. Surely you couldn’t have imagined that. You sighed, shaking your head. Am I going crazy?

Not even a minute passed and you heard it once more.

“Hehe.” This time when you turned you felt your foot hit something soft and squishy.

Chris just side eyed the foot that just kicked his dimpled cheeks and then trailed those same beautiful brown eyes up to you.

“Christopher Bahng get up from the floor, that's nasty!” 

“Hehehehehe.” He continuously giggled as you stared down at him, not even trying to help him get up because you were confident in your inability to do so.

Instead you set aside the knife for your vegetables and slouched down on the floor as well.

“Hehehehehe.” 

“Whats so funny?”

“Carrot.”

You deadpanned at the Aussie in front of you and it sparked another fit of uncontrollable “hehe”’’s.

“Love, what on earth is so funny about carrots?”

His lips shot out into a kissy face as he shook his head. “You don- hehhehe - undertan-heheheh-the- jo-hehehe.”

You sighed as you watched him try- but fail in explaining what he thought was so funny about the crunchy orange vegetable.

“Chris, I think tonight is the last time you should ever drink alcohol, baby.”

Your boyfriend - fiance - looked at you, his dimples showing even more as the giggles kept coming out of him.

“But I had to celebrate!” He pulled your hand from off the ground and put it close to his face. He outlined the ring he had given you. “See? This is a cause for celebration.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the man in front you look at your ring as if he was staring at his laptop screen - with complete 100% undivided attention.

“Chris, you knew I was going to say yes to marrying you, baby. Who in their right mind wouldn’t say yes?”

“Mmmm…a lot of people. Hehe.” 

You got up from the ground, this time Chris coming up with you.

“Alcohol…it…hehe…hehe…hehe…” 

At this point, anyone would have been annoyed with this amount of giggling from a drunk person. But his giggle was so heartbreakingly adorable you couldn’t help but turn around and kiss the lips it was escaping from.

His eyes widened and he cocked his head. “Why…”

“Why did I kiss you?”

“Y-hehe.” He started laughing, his giggles becoming nearly uncontrollable to the point he started coughing- then gagging - then straight up heaving onto the kitchen counter.

Onto the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner.

You let out an exasperated breath, all while keeping a smile on you face as Chris stared at you wide eyed.

“I didn’t mean to!” He whined, a small hiccup accompanying the sad gesture.

“I know you didn't, baby. You just giggled too much.” You said as you took a damp cloth and began wiping at his face - taking the opportunity to poke his dimple.

“I’m sorry…” His lip poked out in a pout.

“Don’t be. It mighttttt have been one of the reasons I fell for you so hard in the first place.

He smiled and looked out you lovingly as you continued to wipe his face.

This time you were the one to let out the giggle.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Minho|

Minho was extremely drunk. You didn’t know how he got so carried away with his drinks. He usually was very careful with the amount of alcohol he ingested, just in case things were to potentially get out of hand and get leaked to the press. 

But even if it did get leaked- you know nothing bad would come of it. Because Minho was not an extreme drunk.

Unless he was extremely caring.

“Baby, you have to put a jacket on or else you’ll get cold.” Minho said as he stripped himself of his jacket and placed it over your shoulders. You chuckled as you took off the jacket, because you were sitting in the guys' dorms, and it was rather warm in there. 

Minho huffed and put his jacket over you again.

“Yah! Baby. You need to put my jacket on or else you’ll be cold.” He said his voice turned more stern in the slightest.

“Its hot in here though…”

“Thats just all the alc…ac..al…acl- thats because you drank too much, love.” His head was shaking as he gave a few tsk tsk sounds. “You had too much fun.”

You sure it was me who had too much fun?

When he turned away to walk to the kitchen you slipped off your cardigan so you’d be slightly less warm, and to make Minho happy by wearing his cologne stained jacket. You inhaled as you always did. His scent bringing every single thought of him to mind.

You smiled as Minho walked back into the living room on wobbly feet with Advil and water. 

“Baby take these. It will help when you’re hungover tomorrow.”

“I’m completely sober, love.” You say, laughter coating your voice. 

Minho groaned and hit his head like a frustrated toddler. “YA! Baby! You’ll be hungover tomorrow if you don’t take your medicine! Here. Here.” He said pushing the medicine into your hands. You tried handing them back but he just groaned. “You’re so stubborn when you’re drunk. I’m never letting you eat again” 

“Eat?”

“Drink I mean drink.” He said, looking up as if he was thinking. “Yeah, drink.” He poured out a few more advil but then the entire bottle fell and the medicine scattered across the floor.

“I can’t have my baby’s head hurt.” He said, shaking his own. He picked up a few medicine tablets of the ground and blew on them. Then he pat your head and shot up onto wobbly feet once more, making a beeline for the fridge to get you a snack, forgetting to hand you the medicine he intended to give you.

He came back with a tub of icecream and a spoon. “Here!” He pushed the tub into your hands, the warmth of his own contrasting with the frigid feel of the container.

As Minho placed both his hands on his knees as he knelt down in front of you, making sure you eat and take your advil, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love for your husband..

“Minho, can you take it first?” You stuck out your lip and gave your best pleading face. “I don’t like it but if you take it first I promise I will.” You said raising your hand.

Without question he swallowed a couple of pills, downing a good bit of the water.

“Anything for my babyyyyy.” He laid his chin in your lap and opened his mouth, waiting for you to spoon feed him. 

His lips wrapped around the spoon in a small “O” but pulled back with a big smile.

“Baby.” He said poking your leg. “And baby.” He said poking your tummy.

“And baby.” You said poking his nose. 

He gave a quick nod and opened his mouth again, as you pet his hair. Except this time he pulled back with a frown.

“Baby! Why are you drinking so much! YA YOU’RE PREGNANT YOU CAN’T DRINK.” He pulled his head off of your lap and was about to scold you again, but instead rushed up to get to the bathroom but made it as far as the kitchen sink before he let out the contents of his celebratory night.

He looked up after giving a long sigh, the exhaustion for the night hitting him almost immediately.

He whimpered and went to go hug you, putting his head on your shoulder. 

“I think I’m drunk…” He whined.

“And I think I’m pregnant.”

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Changbin|

“YAH!! WHY ARE YOU LOOOKING AT MY PARTNER?!” You had to hold Binnie back as he kicked his tiny little legs trying to get to the poor guy who had only glanced in your general direction.

“CHANGBIN JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

The angry little gym rat turned to you and pouted. “He looked at you.”

“Be so for real Bin.”

“I am. His eyes landed on you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Changbin deadpanned at you, and the guy quickly scurried away.

“Changbin you won’t bite, but you’ll sure as hell bark.”

“I will bite.”

“Really, now?”

Changbin nodded with determination. “Watch and learn.” He waddled up to his hyung and latched his teeth onto Christopher’s shoulder.

“HOLY SHIT-” Chris pulled away quickly and Changbin smiled a you. “I told you I bite!” He said as he mimicked the nerd and finger emoji combination.

Seungmin and Minho were laughing their asses off as Chris looked at your boyfriend horrified. The at you with a look of utter betrayal.

“Y/N… how could you even suggest that.” He said his eyes wide.

“I didn’t think he’d actually bite to be honest…”

Changbin waddled back over to you and latched his arm by your side. Looking around intently.

“What are you looking for baby?”

“Enemies. If another dares to look at my preciou- hnnnghh - Y/N I’ll rip their - hnnnghgh - face off.”

You all paused in the middle of the street, allowing Changbin a few minutes of fresh air and even breathing until his nausea passed.

“He gets really feisty when drunk, huh?” Felix asked as you guys all sat on the sidewalk, Minho patting the younger’s back while he bent over closer to the ground - even though with his height he was basically at the ground. 

“Yeah haha… I knew he was possessive but I didn’t expect him to be this possessive.”

Changbin looked up to a see a woman and her child walking and he yelled out again. “ARE YOU LOOKING AT MY PRECIOUS Y/N-IE???”

The woman looked at Changbin as if he was a psycho and ushered herself and her child off quickly.

Felix began to laugh which sparked a fit of laughter from all of the people. 

“He really does want to pick a fight with every single person that walks by.” Hyunjin commented as he shot a look towards a group of young kids walking towards you guys.

They saw a drunk man bent over and like the smart kids they were crossed the street.

“He’s a handful.” You groan as you lay back on the sidewalk. Not even considering the amount of germs on it. “But he’s my handful.”

“Quite literally too. Because he is about as small as Bangchan is old,  and Hyunjin is dramatic.” Seungmin commented without so much as a smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was.

“YAH SEUNGMINNNNNNN!! WHY ARE YOU MAKING Y- HNNHNDKFH-” Before he could finish his sentence Changbin was throwing up and you got up to go help him.

“Y/N…I don’t feel good.” 

“I know baby, I know.” You said. 

“Why do people keep looking at you? I only want to look at you.” He said as you guys all continued that last final stretch to the dorm.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m pretty?”

“No. You’re beautiful theres a difference.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to ask what exactly about you was beautiful, but Changbin ripped himself from your arms and started rushing towards a middle aged man who was stepping out of a restaurant with his wife.

“YAHHHH!”

You groaned and rushed after your little angry toddler - vowing to never let him get this drunk again.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Hyunjin|

Hyunjin sat across from you at the sports bar you guys were at. Seungmin had dragged you all along to watch the world series with him; and since you guys were in America you thought the Kids thought it would be a fun experience to experience an American sports bar.

Hyunjin had long since drunk his fair share of alcohol.

“Its not like in Korea…” He had said before he went down the rabbit hole of different beverages.

Chan had been glancing over in concern, but relaxed a little when he noticed how well you were taking care of your boyfriend.

You popped an onion ring in your mouth and Hyunjin was staring at the basket of fried goodness in front of you.“Do you like onions? Would you like one?”

Hyunjin shook his head- yet proceeded to grab one and place it on your ring finger, then placing one on his.

“See Jagiya? We’re married now.” He mumbled, his cheeks flushed, a beautiful but slightly concerning pink.

“Baby, I think its time we get you back to the hotel.” You informed Chris that you would be taking Hyunjin back.

“Are you sure thats safe? I can send another one of the guys with you-” You shook your head. “Okay. Just call me if you need anything?” 

“Of course Christopher. And don’t worry. I grew up in this city so I know my way around.” You say giving a friendly wink and helping Hyunjin up from his chair.

The night breeze was cool, and you figured it would help Hyunjin sober up slightly.

Which you were correct about, since about ¾ of the way back to the hotel he was coherent enough to make normal conversation - albeit his response time was somewhat slow and his answers slightly slurred.

You noticed a small group of girls lock eyes with you and widen them simultaneously.

“Jinnie. I think you have some fans.” You said, a smile appearing on your face as they slowly made their way over. You helped them get over their hesitation as you waved them over.

“We won’t bite!” You giggled.

They came up to you and seemed to struck to speak.

“I-Is that…you and Hyunjin?”

You chuckled. “Yeah we were going to go public soon, but they were trying to figure out how to break the news that Hyunjin was dating a staff member…but I assume a lot of you have peeped something out. Especially since we’ve been together over a year now. The only reason why we’ve decided to disclose at all is because you guys are so intuitive. Stay should the new FBI.” You joked. The girls immediately eased up and Hyunjin bowed to them, giving a slightly sloppy smile. 

“Can we get a picture?” One of the girls asked, you looked at Hyunjin but the girl corrected herself. “We meant like..with… both of you? You guys are adorable together!” You felt your heart almost burst at your first supporting fans of you and Jinnie’s relationship.

“Baby are you good to take a picture?”

He nodded- in a seeming state of almost complete soberness and posed happily for a few pictures with you and the stays.

“Are we allowed to post this?” One of them asked meekly.

“I would wait until JYP releases an official announcement of our relationship. But after that of course.” You dig in your purse and pull out a few photocards. “Here…I think Chris and…Seungmin signed these ones. And this one is… Binnie!” You said handing them the cards. “Baby…can you sign the cards too?”

Hyunjin nodded and signed the cards, and you heard one of the girls gasp in surprise.

Hyunjin still had the onion ring on his finger.

“Jinnie! Why the fuck-frick do you still have the onion ring on your finger?!” You asked in complete shock, correcting yourself in front of the girls.

“Because we’re married? Duh.” He said in complete seriousness. He bowed to the girls politely and then came up with force. “Remember when you post to caption Y/N as my wife. I’ll even let you take a picture with the rings too.” He nudged your shoulder, provoking you to stick out your hand as well, and the girls looking at each other with slight giggles as they all snapped pictures of your and Hyunjin’s hands.

Once they were finished they waved goodbye they scurried off in the opposite direction.

You let out a big guffaw. “I really hope you remember this Jinnie.”

~~~~

“Y/N? Why is there a picture of my hand with an onion ring going viral on social media?”

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209

[chiscaralight]

warnings: afab!reader x fratboy!zhongli except he doesn’t behave like one, drunk sex, lotsss of pussy eating, face riding,(as usual), dom!zhongli, he uses pet names here and there, 69, funny number hehe, probably missed a few tags but enjoy i tried my best

word count: 1.7k

zhongli. you’ve heard that name so many times around campus. Whether it was gushing over how attractive he was or trying to wiggle their way into the frat house for their latest party, the name was sure to come up in many conversations. granted, he is the leader of the fraternity so everything would have to pass through him first. but plagues your thoughts for … a different reason.

you'll never forget that day in class. your teacher was running late for whatever reason, and your eyes, much like the result of the class were glued on zhongli and one of the other frat members; scara.

your eyes were trained on the brown-haired man's profile before the words of some girl behind you grabbed your attention.

“-know right? i heard they made him head of the frat because he loves gettin' his dick sucked!”

the gasps and giggles that left her group of friends slowly dimmed out of your mind as your face flushed and your thighs began to press together. you suck your lower lip between your teeth as you close your eyes and imagine how good fucking him would feel. the slamming of the lecture hall doors is what draws you out of your shameful daydream as the lecturer walks in. Another student is trailing behind, carrying something presumably for the teacher. you move your eyes back towards him and you’re so sure you see his eyes lock onto yours. you’re even more taken aback when you catch the corners of his lips turning up into a polite smile before he faces the front of the class once again.

now here you are, stumbling towards the frat house with two of your friends on either side of you. pregaming in your apartment didn’t sound like a bad idea at first, mixing drinks and dancing as you got ready. now you’re starting to regret it as you can barely walk a straight line in your kitten heels, heat from the alcohol in your system barely helping you to keep warm from the cold breeze that blew against your exposed arms.

you sigh in relief as you hear the loud music coming from the house, motioning to your friends to go in first. the heat from the packed, sweaty bodies dancing around the living room hitting you once. you can’t decide whether you’re in the mood to dance or not, so you tap your friend and point to the kitchen, silently explaining you want another drink. she nods and turns back to your other friend to continue dancing.

the kitchen is less populated. you breathe out a sigh of relief and make your way toward the cooler filled with what you presume to be a party mix. you say a quick prayer before scooping the concoction into a clean cup and taking a sip. it doesn't taste half as bad as you would expect it to, but the flavor of the spirits still finds its way through and makes you wince.

you lean against the kitchen island and sip from your cup occasionally. your mind is everywhere but the party, and a deep, smooth voice draws you out of your haze.

“you really seem to like that drink.” you whip your head around fast and begin to cough quite violently as you register his voice. zhongli's large, hand pats your back firmly. it’s not the soothing action that stops the coughing though, it’s the way your name drips from his lips after he asks if you’re okay.

“you…you know my name?”

“of course i do. we’re in the same major.”

what a shit excuse.

“there’s a lot of people in your poli sci. if someone drags up three randoms on the street and tells you they’re in our class you’d probably agree with them,”

he pauses for a moment. “well that’s beside the point. you’ve been here alone for a while so i was wondering if you wanted to take a walk out back? i want to get away from the noise and i have a feeling you’ll enjoy it a little more than standing in the kitchen till the party’s over.”

you huff and nod, so he’s scooping up another cup of the mix for himself before guiding you out towards the locked door. he pulls a key from his pocket and quickly unlocks it. once you step out, you realize the whole back of the house, albeit how big it is, is fenced off. you’re starting to feel the liquor kick once again, the familiar buzz has you feeling hot all over as you cling to the taller man for balance. he glances down at you and you keep your eyes trained on the floor. it’s silent for a while, the two of you standing on the steps as the wind nips at your skin.

“hey,” he calls.

“hm?”

“i have an idea.”

you imagined yourself doing quite a few things tonight, but making out half-naked in the pool with the man who had been the object of your affection since the semester started was far from the top of the list. he’s pushing you against the wall, body pressing into yours to keep you from sliding down.

you’re pulling away to catch your breath and he’s chasing your lips again in a hungry kiss.

“please zhongli i-“

you’re gasping as he moves to kiss the skin of your neck.

“i need you. need you so bad.”

Your underwear is still pretty soaked for multiple reasons under your dress but it’s the least of your concerns as zhongli is pushing you into his room. the party is still going raging downstairs, bass reverbing through the walls as he’s yanking the dress off you again.

“you know why they made me the head of the frat?”

you nod. he pulls the strap of your panties, letting them snap back. you yelp.

“tell me.”

“because you like..getting head?”

you don't sound confident as he’s sliding them off.

“are you sure?”

“that’s just what i heard-”

“no.” he’s dragging you closer to the end of the bed.

“it’s because i love..”

he’s getting down on his knees in front of you.

“giving it.”

you can barely hear the blaring music anymore over your loud moans and the sinister sounds coming from between your legs. the back of your thighs are firmly pressed against his strong shoulders with his hands as he hungrily laps at your dripping cunt. you’re clenching around his tongue as it prods into you so violently and you can feel your orgasm starting to build fast. he only hums against you in response and the vibrations coax it out of you painfully slow. freezing up against him, your vision turns white, and your body trembles. you’re coming down, but he only gives you a minute before he’s back onto you again.

he’s pushing your back flat and shifting you higher into the bed, pressing quick kisses all over your belly. your breath is erratic, but he pays no mind to that as his lips find your clit. he’s sucking and nibbling on the sensitive bud and sliding a thick finger into your warmth. the new sensation causes you to cry out, back arching off the bed. he uses his free hand to push you back down, and you can barely get the words out of your mouth to tell him how good it feels. it’s almost understandable through your incoherent babbling. you can feel the ghost of a smirk grace his lips as he adds another finger in. he’s scissoring his long fingers into you and you’re rolling your hips as you can feel another orgasm approaching.

you can’t even tell how long it’s been before you open your eyes again. you look down to warn him, but he’s already looking at you through hooded eyes. his cheeks are flushed and his hair is pushed back, still wet from the pool. a certain curl of his fingers has you breaking away from his gaze first, eyes rolling back as the pleasure washes over you once again. you’re shaking this time, gasping for air as he pulls away from your cunt. you can barely hear his voice as he tells you how good you’re doing for him while he caresses your face.

you’re finally able to breathe calmly before his words cause your eyes to widen in disbelief.

"you think you can give me one more, beautiful?"

hands splayed across his chest, you’re trying your best to hold your body weight up to prevent suffocating him. obviously, he didn’t care about his oxygen flow as much as you so because he's dragging you down onto his tongue. you’re insanely overstimulated, but the way he’s rubbing against your slit with that mouth of his just hurt so good. you’re grinding against his face when you notice how hard he’s straining against the fabric of his boxers. you grip the band of his undergarments and he lifts his hips for you to drag them down and your mouth hangs agape at how big he is. his tip is blush red and leaking precum, so you waste no time in gathering spit in your mouth before lowering your mouth onto him.

the way he moans into your pussy is so vile as you slowly work your way up and down his length. you’re sporadic in the way you bob your head up and down, the vibrations from his throat sending shocks up your spine. you can barely keep still, but his arms and you’re sheer determination to cum for him one more time keep you grounded-well, seated on his face. you can feel him start to stutter against your clit. the heat from his breath sends you reeling as his cum starts to fill your mouth. you pull off of him to let out one final cry before you’re released onto him. it’s all too much for you, and the black spots in your vision begin to grow until you’re fading out of consciousness.

when you come back to, a wave of fatigue washes over your body. you stir under the thick blanket as you try to regain feeling in your legs. a warm hand draws up your side from behind you and the warmth from the kiss pressed to the back side of your neck has you relaxing back into the sheets.

“are you awake?”

you violently shake your head no, drawing a laugh from the man beside you. his arm draws you back into him and you lean into his body as he mumbles a quick goodnight to you.

a/n: took me a couple of days to write omg😭 he’s deffo a crazy pussy eater and this was kinda self indulgent! i’m for sure gna write a part 2 of this where he absolutely massacres readers cunt lol but thanks for reading :D likes, reblogs, comments and follows are reallyyyy appreciated

[formulawolff]

xx. dog days are over - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 6.2k

warnings: cursing, toto being a mess, discussion of injury, mentions of a car accident, some tension between team principals, age gap relationships, teasing, slight angst, mostly real fluffy shit hehe, yadayadayada

a/n: ummm.. how did we get here? well.. this is the last chapter of my baby :’) i really hope you enjoy the ending! i really am so proud of this series and what is to come! <3

prev. | next.

a muffled voice floods your ears. 

blinking, your lids open, weighed down by this heaviness.

there’s a buzzing pain in your skull, muscles searing with a fiery sensation, burning as you prop yourself up. your helmet is off, tossed approximately three or so feet away. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

you pant for just a moment, shaking your head as the air billows into your lungs. the action pours life back into you, leveling your racing thoughts, your blurry field of vision coming into focus.

alex hovers above you, concern plastered across his features as you stir, coughing slightly.

“what the fuck happ–”

his arms are around you, bringing you tightly against his chest. sobs wrack his torso, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck. h-holy fuck.”

“alex,” as you blink, your line of sight falls on your crumpled car, how the metal curled against the barrier, pieces scattered all around, littering the asphalt, “w-what happened?”

“there was a crash,” his voice is eerily quiet, “i’m not quite sure how it happened or who caused it, but you came flying towards the barrier. you rolled a few times. you were unconscious when i–”

another cry rings out, the driver burying his head in his hands. carefully, you squeeze him against you, “did you–”

you’re cut off as the medics jog up to the scene, an ambulance parked close by. 

“are you okay?”

“yeah!” you nod, “i’m fine.”

“we’re going to have to transport you to the nearest hospital,” the paramedic kneels to your right, “even if you show no signs of external injuries, we would still like to transport you. make sure that everything checks out.”

“do i have to?” you arch a brow, “i feel fine.”

“it’s just a precaution,” the paramedic’s voice is light, laced with a gentleness, “let’s get you on the gurney.”

“can i come with?” alex’s voice sounds to your left.

“don’t you have a race to finish–”

“i’m coming with,” alex repeats, his tone hardened. he rises to his feet, offering you his hands, “come on, let’s go get you checked out.”

“what about james?” you press, accepting his gesture, “what about your points? the fia? alex, you could get in so much trouble–”

“it’s one race.” he scoffs, helping you onto the gurney, “i think i can face the repercussions of leaving one race. i’m a big boy, i can handle it. besides, i’m your emergency contact. i need to be there with you. who’s going to call your parents? toto?”

toto. 

oh god. 

you eyes dart towards the pits, desperately searching for that mercedes logo. yet, it’s too late, as the paramedics start to haul you into the ambulance, alex following in suit. he clambers into the back end, taking your gloved hand into his. 

“you have no idea how fucking scary that was.”

“well that’s the perk of being a bad bitch,” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “and you know what that perk is?”

“you can’t kill a bad bitch,” the corners of his lips tug upward, fighting a smile.

“what about your phone?” you nudge the driver, “how are you going to get ahold of everyone?”

“simple,” he leans back, his head resting against the equipment, “once we arrive at the hospital and get you situated, i’ll use their phone to call lily. i’ll tell her to ask for access to my driver’s room. you’re lucky you left your phone with mine.”

“we can thank james for that,” you exhale, your body relaxing as the medic slips a pulse oximeter on your index finger. 

the adrenaline was beginning to dissolve, crumbling away to pain. sharp, aching, pain. the paramedic senses your shift in demeanor, clearing his throat.

“feeling some pain?”

“yes,” you wince as you adjust in the limited space of the gurney, “all over.”

“anywhere specific?”

“my neck,” instinctively, your hand reaches upward, rubbing the sensitive area, “i would say it’s a six out of ten there. the rest of my body is more like a two out of ten. i figure it’s just from the impact?”

“exactly,” a chuckle flows from the paramedic’s lips, “although this probably isn’t your first crash, and it won’t be your last, that pain is normal. especially from an impact-related injury. you’ll probably ache for a couple of days.

we’re mainly going to get you in for a ct scan. make sure you’re not bleeding anywhere internally. they’ll probably run a few other tests. i’m not the doctor, but i’m sure you have a concussion.” 

“will they keep me overnight?” the inquiry tumbles out, heart racing as you the anticipation builds, the paramedic sucking in a breath. 

“they probably will. just for observation.”

“great,” you fold your arms across your chest, a pout forming, “how am i supposed to give insight on my near-death experience if i’m stuck at the hospital?”

“don’t worry,” the paramedic shoots you a wink, “i could keep you company if you need it.”

“and she has a boyfriend i’m calling as soon as we get settled. he’ll be more than happy to keep her company.”

the iciness in alex’s tone takes you by surprise, the driver glaring daggers across the gurney. the paramedic shoots you an inquiring glance, earning a shrug from you in response. 

“what can i say? he’s right. and this man is probably losing his shit right now because he can’t be here with me.”

although your tone was lighthearted, in your heart you were well aware of the truth. 

the team principal was more than likely seconds away from losing his shit, barely maintaining his composure. 

and who knew how much longer he would keep it together before cracking completely. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“toto!” 

lewis hamilton pushes through the mass of mercedes crew, “toto!”

although there was much to celebrate today with the conclusion of the race, the british driver was well aware of the harsh reality. 

the team principal’s mind was nowhere focused on the team, his drivers, nor their accomplishments. 

he picks out the large stature of toto wolff, the team principal pacing back and forth, george situated in a chair, a hand holding his chin. there’s no clear emotion across george’s face, but there is a haze of pure and utter fear swathing the team principal, strings of curses flying from his tongue. 

“not doing too hot, is he?” lewis clicks his tongue.

“not at all,” george mutters, shaking his head slightly, “poor bloke is driving himself mad over here. i’m afraid he’s going to start a reign of terror over at the haas paddock.” 

“who caused the accident?” lewis arches a brow, licking his lips.

“hülkenberg,” george tuts, rolling his eyes, “it was a complete accident, really. toto has only reviewed the footage a hundred times or so in the last hour. he thinks it was on purpose, but really it was just a mistake. we know it happens all the time.”

“well,” lewis begins, a sly smirk forming, “when his precious angel is involved, it was no accident. hey, lover boy!” 

toto swivels on his heel, bearing a tight-lipped frown, “what?”

“any updates on your babygirl? do i need to drive you over to the hospital myself? we can storm in and demand her room number.”

“alex texted me about half an hour ago,” george answers, fishing his phone from his pocket, “she’s getting some tests done but we should be able to visit soon.”

“you’re going?” 

“why wouldn’t i?” george shrugs, scrolling along, “that’s my future teammate. i want to make sure she’s okay.” 

“aww georgie,” a chuckle rumbles in the driver’s chest, “are we all going to become besties? a little trio?”

“well your days here are numbered,” george counters, “we won’t be a trio for long.”

“just because i’m going to ferrari doesn’t mean i can’t be your bestie,” lewis puckers his lips, “so, what’s the word? are we going to the hospital soon or what?”

“you’re coming too?” toto’s voice from behind startles the driver, earning a flinch. 

“holy shit!” lewis clutches his chest, “you about gave me a bloody heart attack!”

“you’re not the only one today,” the team principal inhales sharply, “i’m just shocked i kept it together throughout the debrief.”

well, that was not necessarily true.

although george had managed a podium, lewis in p4, toto was visibly distressed. his shirt, normally wrinkled after the chaos of a race day, seemed even more disheveled, his hair a haphazard, fluffy mess. even his piercing, eagle-like gaze was filled with nothing but anguish, an anxious, darkened hue. 

his voice shook throughout the entire post-race debrief. he could barely formulate coherent responses while he was interviewed by the various media outlets. during the press conference, you could just tell that he was nowhere on this planet, his attention barely present throughout the entirety of the event. when asked about the williams driver, the team principal short-circuited, completely shutting down any and every reporter that came near. he even cussed out a journalist who inquired about the driver, asking if he knew her current status.

it was very clear that the team principal was on the brink of a complete breakdown. 

but lewis was not going to mention that.

not the time nor the place. 

which, not like he could really blame his boss. 

he loved that girl, oh so dearly.

and to watch, completely helpless as she barreled into those barriers? holding his breath as alex held her unconscious body, pleading for the medic? with there being no communication regarding her condition as they hauled her away in the ambulance, how was he supposed to feel?

without a doubt, he would be a nervous wreck, pacing violently back and forth. 

or curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing. 

“is she even allowed visitors?” george’s brow furrow. 

“if not i’ll just pull the ‘i’m lewis hamilton and very famous’ card,” lewis waves a hand, “it’ll work like a charm.”

“are you going to fuck a nurse while you’re at it?” george teases, springing to his feet, “well, i am going to have carmen make arrangements for a ride to the hospital. alex says that she’s doing okay. lily is already there with him. he said he would give us more details when we arrive. are you riding with me or toto, lew?”

lewis shifts in place, turning to toto, “how are you getting there?”

“theodore is driving me,” the team principal shoves an arm in his jacket, glancing at his phone, “he’s going to be arriving in a few minutes. i do not care who you ride with. you can come with me. it is up to you.”

the british driver bites on his lip, chewing at it momentarily, “well, i guess i’ll ride with you, toto. you look like you may need some company.”

“well then,” the team principal lets out a shaky breath, “let’s get going. i’m not doing any further press conferences, team meetings, or events this evening. it will all have to wait.”

“look at you,” lewis whistles, following his team principal and fellow driver as they stroll out of the garage, making their way through the paddock.

“everyone, everyone! make way for the knight in shining armor! he’s on his way to save his damsel in distress at the emergency room!”

meanwhile, at the montreal sacred heart hospital, a driver sits in her bed, fiddling with the fabric of her sheet. two visitors hover in the chairs beside the bed. one flips through the stations on the television, the other scrolling through her phone.

“you have no idea how terrifying that was,” a voice pipes up, trembling slightly, “i was so scared that it was a lot worse than it really was. when alex pulled you out of that car, i swear the entire circuit was holding their breath.”

“i thought i was going to start throwing up in my helmet,” another voice chimes in, “i have never had that much adrenaline in my life. i think that was one of the few times my body was truly in fight or flight mode.”

“thank god you didn’t start running away,” you fight a yawn, the exhaustion slowly creeping in. 

or was it the muscle relaxers? you couldn’t quite tell. 

the entire crash was a blur. there were no minute details, as it all just was just one big foggy, blobby, mess in your brain.

the only thing you could remember were the memories of toto as you flew through the air, propelling towards that barrier. 

once you were all settled in your temporary room at the hospital, alex filled you in on what occurred. 

from what he witnessed, he stated that nico hülkenberg of haas had a malfunction with the car, causing him to start viciously spinning out of control. unfortunately, you were an innocent victim, as his car hit yours with such a violent force it sent you rolling. nico was able to regain control of the car before crashing out, leaving you as the one who suffered at the hands of the haas engineers. 

the fia was not going to punish nico, as it was not intentional. 

which, was fair. you could understand that. it would have been a completely different story if he was trying to overtake and pulled a sketchy move. unfortunately, it was just the dangerous aspect of life as a formula one driver.

you were going to crash the car. sometimes more than once in your career. 

even if it was not entirely your fault. 

however, there was nothing more than you wanted than to get behind the wheel of a car. your car, and finish the race. 

too late for that, though. far too late.

it was nearing nine p.m., and visiting hours were going to conclude here soon. 

since alex was at the top of your emergency contacts list, he was granted access to stay the night with you. which, you didn’t mind. he had been extremely gentle with you since the crash, tending to your every need. 

he had lily bring all of your favorite treats, packed your trusty stuffed animal, and even ensured that all your jewelry was safely tucked away in your overnight bag. 

additionally, he called your parents for you, explaining the series of events between the start of the race and up to the moment you were wheeled into your room. although everything had checked out, they wanted to keep you overnight for observation. 

after all, it wasn’t everyday you were colliding into a rigid surface at nearly one hundred miles an hour. 

approximately five minutes ago, you received a text from toto stating that theodore was pulling up to the entrance of the hospital. lewis was with him, carmen and george about ten minutes behind them. 

although they had left around the same time, somehow toto had gotten there first. 

you almost didn’t want to know how fast the car was going.

“you should have seen the way i was tearing at the car,” alex remarks, putting his hands behind his head, “i felt like goddamn superman.”

“he sure was,” lily lets out an airy giggle, “speaking of which, where is your–”

“guten abend,” an oh so familiar voice interrupts, thick with the accent you adored so dearly. 

your head swivels towards the entrance of the room, toto standing in the doorframe. in his hands is a bouquet of flowers, a bag slung over his shoulder. the moment your eyes meet, he softens, his lower lip quivering. 

“and he brought a friend!” lewis chirps, poking his head out from behind the team principal, “how are you feeling?”

“tired,” you blink, face scrunching into yet another yawn, “they gave me some muscle relaxers for my soreness.”

toto crosses over to the bed, pulling up a chair. placing the flowers on the nearest table, he sets his bag on the floor. although the actions were simple, it felt like minutes until two hands found yours, bringing it to his lips. 

“ich hoffe es geht dir gut. die blumen sind nicht die besten, aber sie reichen aus.”

“mir geht es nicht so gut,” waves of drowsiness crash over, your head meeting the pillow as toto chuckles, kissing each one of your knuckles. 

“zumindest hast du medikamente und gute freunde.”

“ich liebe dich,” you whisper, tears welling up as he leans over the bedrail, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 

brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you swear you can see the hint of a sparkle in his gaze as he gives you one last kiss on your temple, trailing down to your cheek, “und ich liebe dich.”

“do we have the right place?” a new voice sounds from the entrance. 

before you drift off, the muscle relaxers sucking every last bit of energy, you make out george walking in the room, carmen giving you a slight wave as the world around you fades away. 

so much for visitors. 

however, the bunch remains perched by your side, conversing among one another as you doze off. toto remains as close as possible, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb, murmuring strands of hushed german. 

lewis can’t help but watch, his heart swelling at the pure, genuine love bursting in the team principal’s stare.

in that moment, you could have sworn toto was gazing at the stars.

“are her parents coming?”

george’s question is a pressing one, as this was something that had been on lewis’ mind as well. surely her parents would come, right? if his child was recovering from a gnarly crash, he would want to be there.

“no,” alex’s voice is thready, “her parents are still in the process of obtaining their visas. they are not able to make it, unfortunately. that is why i’m her first emergency contact in situations like this. toto is second on the list, actually.”

in the corner of his eye, lewis notices toto perk up, straightening in his chair, “w-what?”

“i’m not shitting you,” alex focuses his attention on the team principal, “you’re second on the list. she had it changed recently.”

“that’s–” toto begins, shock painting his features as he scrambles to formulate some sort of response, “i-i never would have–”

“i hope i’m not crashing the party.”

a new voice interjects, timid as it carries throughout the space.

glancing over his shoulder, at the sight before him, toto’s heart skips a beat.

there stands james vowles, hands shoved in his pockets as he leans against the doorframe. toto’s stare darts towards the clock, eyes squinting as he makes out the pointed direction of the clock hands. 

8:54 p.m. 

only six minutes until visiting hours were over. 

“no,” alex purses his lips, “come join us! the more the merrier.”

james saunters over to the bed, carefully selecting a place between alex and lily, closest to the wall. toto could sense the waves of anxiety radiating off the team principal, how his muscles were wound up tight from tension as he folds his arms across his chest. he swallows a lump in his throat, swaying slightly as he hovers behind alex.

hmmph. what a pussy. 

“hello–” a nurse pokes her head in, eyes widening at the large group, “oh wow! i was not expecting so many visitors! i was just popping in to remind you all that visiting hours will be wrapping up in approximately four minutes or so. those who are not immediate family will have to leave until the morning. the hours will resume at eight am.”

“is it okay if i stay?” alex pulls up his sleeve, exposing a wristband, “i’m family.”

“of course!” the nurse chirps, “those who do not have wristbands will have to leave. if you guys need anything, please let me know. i will be back in about ten minutes to make sure that everyone who is not family has left the room. it’s not the– oh my god. is that lewis hamilton?”

“indeed,” lewis waves, flashing a wide grin, “i’m just here visiting my friend.”

toto can’t help but roll his eyes as the nurse strolls over to the driver, a dusty pink hue tinging her cheeks, “is it okay if i get a picture?”

“of course!” lewis winks, “would you like a few? george can take them.”

“here we go,” george mutters, earning a chorus of laughter from the group, “sure, i’ll take them.”

as the three head over to the farthest corner of the room, toto wipes his palms on his pants, “i should probably head out then.”

“wait,” alex sticks out a hand, leaning over to dig through his bag, “i have something for you. they gave us three wristbands for the family. lily and i both have one, and she asked that i give you the other. you’re more than welcome to stay with us tonight. i’m not sure where you’ll sleep, but i’m sure we can ask for more pillows.”

“oh,” heat rises in the team principal’s cheeks as alex hands him a wristband, “are you sure?”

“she wouldn’t shut up about you,” lily adds, “she told us that if she fell asleep, she hoped that you would be the first person she saw when she woke up. she wants you to stay. we want you to stay.”

“all right,” his focus shifts towards the bed, where his golden girl was sleeping oh so peacefully, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, “i’ll stay.”

“we should probably get going, though,” carmen murmurs, glancing at her phone, “visiting hours are over. i’ll corral the two brits over there. we’ll probably be back tomorrow.”

“sounds good,” alex dips his head, “thank you for coming. i’m sorry she wasn’t awake long enough for–”

“don’t apologize for that mate,” george swiftly cuts off alex, placing a tender hand on his shoulder, “we wanted to come. besides, it’s always nice to see you.”

“it is always nice to see my boyfriend,” a chuckle flows from alex’s lips, “see you guys. thank you for stopping by.”

“of course,” george wraps an arm around alex, bringing him in close, “we’ll be back in the morning.”

“bright and early,” lewis brings a hand to his mouth, yawning, “let’s get out of here. i’m beat.”

“see you two tomorrow,” toto tuts, “you better get some good rest. especially you, george. no celebrating with the lady.”

“yeah, yeah,” george scoffs, waving one last goodbye to the group, “see ya!”

as the three exited the space, james runs a hand through his hair, “i guess it’s my turn to go, yeah?”

“you can stay a little longer,” alex shrugs, “i’m sure that nurse won’t mind. after all, she got her photos with the lewis hamilton. i’m sure her mind is other places.”

“actually,” toto begins, clambering to his feet, “james, i need to speak with you. out in the hall, please.”

james shrinks in his stature, “o-okay.”

as the two make their way out of the room, toto can feel his heart race, thumping against his rib-cage as james shuffles behind him. blood roars in his ears as he comes to a halt, bringing the team principal to a waiting area, settling in one of the chairs. james faces him, exhaling as he crosses his legs, his hands resting on his knee. 

this was the pivotal moment of the season. 

the defining moment in which determined toto’s success for the years to come. 

not only the success of the team, but the preservation of their reputation. 

this would be the start of contract talks among the two team principals regarding the release of the williams driver, where she would sign to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

all he needed was that blessing from james.

those few words that would give him the approval that he was desperately aching for. 

“surely you know what this is about.”

james forms a tight-lipped frown, “i do.”

“and what are your thoughts?” toto leans back, allowing james to take the floor.

“as much as i want her at williams until 2026,” james’ voice is nearly a whisper, “i know where her heart lies. she wants to go to mercedes, where she will be by your side. and you know, i have had to face the hard facts that i cannot stop her. she is going to do everything in her power to get to you. she’s made that very clear with me. 

and you know, i have had to do my own thinking about what is best for the team. if she is not happy with us, that is not ideal for the team as a whole. she’s unapologetically herself, and i know that she will speak out against us if she stays here. she will start to resent me, the williams name, and even start to resent racing. even the thought of driving a car will start to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. 

i don’t want that. she is an exceptional driver. one in a million, actually. i have never quite seen such drive and desire to win in someone that young. she’s the best fucking driver on that grid and i’ll be damned to see her lose that fire burning within. i don’t want to be that person to quench those flames. so, toto, here is what i am going to tell you.”

he pauses, catching his breath before continuing.

“you have my blessing. we can start those contract talks. you have to promise me one thing, though.”

“what is it?” toto presses, cringing at the desperation dripping in his tone, “i’ll do anything you ask, james.”

“that you will take care of her. no matter what. if you two decide to end things romantically, you have to promise me that you will still look out for her. she has a good head on her shoulders, but she is her own worst enemy. she will lash out at the media, get violent with other drivers, and worst of all, doubt herself.  i need you to be the person who will lift her up. always.”

james, you have no idea.

“i will be,” toto sucks in a breath, “i will be that person who loves her unconditionally. no matter what. even if things do not end well between us, i will be that person who will continue to support her and lift her up when she needs it. that is my job as the team principal. and you know i try my best to do a damn good job at that. james, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?” he raises a brow. 

“do you have any idea of how much i love that woman?”

james tsks, shaking his head, “i have seen the interview with sky sports. i’ve seen the way you look at her. i think i have an idea.”

“well then,” toto leans forward, sticking out his right hand, “are we good then? i will probably contact my assistant and have her start drafting the necessary emails. we will get the ball rolling.”

james reciprocates the gesture, his hand interlocking with toto’s, shaking it, “we are good. i will keep in contact with you. i have full faith in you, toto. i know you will take care of her. i just have this fatherly instinct when it comes to her. i hope you can understand. i just want what is best for my american girl.”

you and i both, james.

and she will thrive at mercedes. without a doubt.

“james,” the corners of his lips curl into a meek smile, “i can promise you that i will give her the best and only the best at mercedes. i can promise you another thing.”

“and what could that possibly be?” for the first time in weeks, toto heard laughter erupting from the team principal’s throat. 

“i can promise you that i will make her a world champion. she will be the 2025 world driver’s champion. and she will be the world champion in the years to follow. i will do everything in my power to ensure that she gets what she deserves. there’s no doubt about that.”

☽༺ sunday, june 30th, 2024 ༻☾

“golden girl! look who we brought!”

turning your chin, you glance over your shoulder to see george russell and lewis hamilton walking towards you, lewis’ hands cupped around his mouth. behind them is toto, donned in his sunday uniform. 

“who said that you could call me ‘golden girl’?” placing your hands on your hips, you can’t help but giggle as lewis pulls down his shades, rolling his eyes.

“i thought it was a universal nickname, my apologies!”

“that nickname is reserved for the one and only torger wolff,” sticking out a tongue, you gravitate towards the team principal, feeling his arms envelop your frame.

you’re showered with kisses, his mouth roaming all over your head and cheeks, “good afternoon, my love.”

“hi baby,” rising on your calves, you graciously accept a chaste kiss, lewis and george curling their lips in disgust. 

“please get a room.”

“no, seriously. there’s places in the paddock for that.”

“are you ready for today?” toto’s mouth hovers by your ear, voice soft. 

“of course,” you nod, “i was born ready, remember?”

today was the infamous austrian grand prix, hosted at red bull ring. fans from all over swarmed the stands, pumping their fists and raising the dutch flag, in favor of max verstappen. additionally, there was a plethora of mercedes fans, as this was toto’s home race.

although you had yet to officially announce your departure from williams, the contract was signed. all you had to do was verbally state your intention to race for mercedes at the start of the 2025 season. which, you were holding off that announcement as much as humanly possible, even if the media generated dozens of speculations with each passing day.

in the weeks since montreal, life was nothing but a blur, the days blending together. 

there were several lengthy flights, a brief visit back home in the states, a few days in monte carlo, and most importantly, time spent with toto. 

since you suffered a concussion in canada, you were grateful for the two-week period between montreal and barcelona. you were given adequate time to recover without feeling the need to rush back into racing. 

although you were anxious to get back behind the wheel again, toto urged you to take it easy. 

so, you did, taking your mind off racing for a while and flying back to arizona for a week. toto accompanied you, where you got to show him around your hometown, introduce him to your parents, and even give him a taste of that good ol’ american lifestyle. 

at first, your parents had their reservations. however, your predictions were correct. once they met the austrian, they were wooed over by his charming personality and witty humor. the two of you were able to discuss your move to mercedes. which, resulted in the three of you holding each other, tears in your parents eyes as they profusely stated over and over again how proud they were.

your father was over the moon, as he knew how driving for mercedes was a lifelong dream of yours. 

and thanks to toto and james, you were able to achieve it.

the second you were discharged from the hospital, toto had arranged for theodore to pick you up. from there, you were taken to the airport, where you hopped on a flight to brackley. 

upon your arrival to the mercedes headquarters, you were met with the williams team, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you began to connect the dots. 

toto was able to get james’ approval. which meant that you were able to begin contract talks.

the negotiations only lasted half an hour, as the team principals sorted things out amongst one another while you were in the hospital. of course, you questioned the fia’s involvement in the matter, as they had made it clear they were to be present during the meetings. 

yet, toto and james informed you not to worry about a damn thing, as they had discussed matters with the fia prior to your arrival.

so, all you had to do was sign the papers. check the boxes when needed, initial here and there. 

once the contract was finalized, you were surprised by george and lewis, the two of them embracing you so tightly that you were sure you broke a rib or two. additionally, you were introduced to mick, who was absolutely starstruck by your presence. 

although there was the setback in montreal, there was still much to celebrate.

you were still the leader of the pack in terms of the driver standings, max and lando not too far behind. even after recovering from your nasty concussion, you were able to pull off a barcelona win, sharing a podium with lewis. 

part of you wished that you, george, and lewis could all share a podium together under the mercedes name.

yet, that was not possible.

besides, lewis was already bound to join ferrari. george would remain with you at mercedes, with mick as the reserve driver. lewis promised that the three of you would still remain close, even if he was in that unforgettable ferrari red. 

you were well on your way to making history as the first female world driver’s champion. 

and god, did that leave such a fucking sweet taste in your mouth.

“if i win your home race, will you come and kiss me on the podium?” 

“we’ll see about that,” there’s the glitter of amusement in his mocha depths, his dimples forming as his grin widens, “i don’t know if our pr teams could handle another mishap like monaco.”

“that was not a mishap,” you counter, “that will go down as one of the most unforgettable moments in f1 history.”

“perhaps you’re right, my love,” taking your hands into his, toto intertwines your fingers together, “you’re going to be careful out there, right?”

“right,” you affirm, “i’m going to be oh so safe.”

“unless she wants to overtake kevin again,” george whistles, “we’ll have to watch for that.”

“good thing i’m pole,” you roll your eyes, “shouldn’t you guys be heading back to the paddock? we’re going to start soon.”

“yes,” lewis’ head turns, focusing on the track, “we should probably get going. i just wanted to make sure that loverboy got a kiss before the race.”

“well thank you–”

“all right people!” james’ voice floats through the garage, “it’s go time!”

“oh shit,” you exhale, “i really have to go.”

“good luck, my golden girl,” toto leans in, pressing one more kiss on your lips, “i love you.”

“i love you more,” you can’t help but feel heat burning in your cheeks as george and lewis snicker, making kissy faces, “i’ll see you on that podium for that kiss soon, yeah?”

“you bet,” toto squishes you against his chest one final time, “i have to go, my love. see you soon!”

“see you soon!” you nod enthusiastically, zipping up your suit, “good luck lew! good luck out there george!”

“where’s my american girl?” james inquires, searching wildly for you as you enter the garage, “i need my american girl!”

“i’m here!” you raise a hand, “i was just getting my good luck kiss.”

“oh god,” james lets out an exasperated sigh, “well come on, we gotta get a quick debrief in before the race.”

before you know it, you’re behind the wheel of your car, gliding onto the track. 

easing on the gas, you sail towards the pole position, the rest of the grid lining up in their respective positions behind you. the lights on the track gleam red, signaling that the race was merely minutes from starting. 

as the crew gathers around your vehicle, swiftly prepping in that thirty second period, you can’t help but feel your heart rate escalate, adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins. clicking the visor down on your helmet, your body tenses, anticipating that final light. that final signal before it’s lights out in austria. 

swallowing the lump in your throat, you hum under your breath. it’s a simple tune, really, a song by florence + the machine. 

the dog days were over. 

you had truly braved the worst of storms in the past few weeks, from a terrifying crash to the revelation in monaco. you were dealt horrid hate comments, bizarre headlines from the tabloids, and the falling out of a friendship with someone who cared so deeply for.

but here were you, despite it all.

on your way to win yet another grand prix. another event to add to your personal history book. 

another milestone for the woman referred to as america’s sweetheart. 

there’s a beat of silence before the final light flickers, the roar of engines deafening. 

“and the austrian grand prix is underway! perfect reaction time for the american girl! she is off to a magnificent start! will she make history yet again?”

in seventy-one laps time, you would have that answer.

but for the time being, you were going to savor the moment. the thrill of it all. 

and for now, that would be enough. 

racing was never in the cards. 

but fuck, were you oh so elated that you ended up here, behind the wheel of a williams car, destined for greatness. 

the american woman who made history as the first female world driver’s champion.

that had a nice ring to it. a real nice ring, actually. 

abu dhabi could not come soon enough. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[bunji-enthusiast]

Closer And Closer

Note || as requested by many, here is the sequel! This was a ton of fun to write 🤲

WC || 2,535

<(Previous Part)> <(You are here)>

Sypnosis || With your new friend in hand, you begin earning some unexpected honesty—and new understandings.

Once, there was a dream. Sometimes it would recur, coming back to you in the encroaching depths of your mind no matter how much you wanted to stop dreaming this very same dream. It was always on and off, how it can always come back–like a nightmare–just how can one describe it?

People can forget their own dreams long after they wake up, lest they be lucky to want to write down the dream. So you were one and the same, the trepidation always sneaking upon you, like an approaching danger that will never fail to make your nerves stand on end. 

“Mommy,” You tugged at the hem of the woman’s dress, a baby trapped within a limited consciousness; yearning for love, curiosity and just always wanting to be around your parents. It’s natural and in nature for a young child to always want their parents. “Why are you gonna be gone for so long?”

Oh, that sweet, sweet voice. How adorable could you be? The woman just looked down upon your small form with a smile, so very reminiscent of motherly love. Only a mother could bring a kind of peace like that to their child, the woman thought. She crouched down to your level, patting the crown of your head with a gentle hand, so very gentle as you remember her even gentler heartbeat. A voice came from her mouth, words carried with a saccharine tone. “My little sweet apple pie, it is only a work trip!” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around you and held you close. Causing you to giggle as well, laughter so joyous even the woman holding you now couldn’t help but feel such joy because of you alone. “I’ll be back before you can say Poppies!”

You look up at her, strangely the woman’s face was misty, enshrouded by black shadows. As if reality didn’t want you to see her, your own mother. Still, a smile remained upon your face as you nodded at the woman. “Hehe! Okay, mom.”

Slowly you blinked, the world suddenly began disappearing from sight, the environment twisting upon your peripherals. 

“What?”

You groan audibly, cursing to yourself under your breath. “Of-fucking-course.” 

Slowly, You remember where you are now. A hand comes into your view and holds you steady, a very familiar one. 

“Don’t get up too quickly, you will get weary Angel.” His voice warns, it still seemed so strained and worn worse for wear. Just what kind of things had Catnap done to DogDay? Perhaps you shouldn’t worry about it, something like that is a very personal thing to ask about, no doubt. 

You coughed, pounding on your chest as you slowly rose awake. Your companion had been waiting calmly for you to collect yourself, but that had made him a little worried as he winced when you coughed. Slowly enough, you ease yourself into standing with DogDay’s help, all that jumping and landing seriously hurt your body a great deal. No wonder you were exhausted as hell right now.

Right, no time to worry about that now. It was time to be more worried about what to do next, “DogDay, you think you can handle being carried around by me in that state?” You asked with an airy tone, you didn’t want to be too loud and accidentally attract any nearby toys who are under Catnap’s influence. DogDay slumped for a moment, most likely still very worn out from probably the way he had been hanged. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling everything coursing through him, he was very much here and alive.

He always had been continually reminded of this very thing.

Reminded of Catnap.

“No need to worry about me, Angel.” Your companion spoke, his fur ruffling about in his movements. You probably were gonna have to do something about that later, DogDay sorely needed some cleaning up. “I am tougher than you think.” 

It seemed his words carried a half-hearted weight, carrying no affirmed meaning to them. You looked at DogDay incredulously, clear as night and day that you knew this well; worn out, tired and cramping for a plan to end the Prototype. You’ve never gotten a good look at the Prototype, only a few times you have gotten a good look at the Prototype’s hand–there must be a whole body from beyond the shadow’s.

Awaiting, no doubt terrifying too. But, you dealt with adrenaline rushes and terrifying monsters from the moment you stepped foot into the abandoned Playtime Co. 

“Ah, well, just tell me if anything is bothering you.” You nodded at him, patting down your clothing, the dust falling in your wake. DogDay was quiet for a moment, taking a hand-step back as he looked around at the environment once more. He was considering something, considering how to go about the next phase of the way. 

“No safe places here, nothing good.” For a moment, you swore that you had seen his mouth contorting into a frown–though in every Smiling Critter, they always are smiling–So this was completely new, different somehow. “My apologies Angel, safe places are rare to find.” DogDay sighed, he in a sense was habitually instinctive to keep his loved ones safe; going so far as to make sure they have a good sleep. Even if it meant at the cost of his own health. 

He cared deeply for his friends, but they were gone now. Catnap was someone he could not recognize anymore, that wasn’t his friend.

DogDay’s only focus was making sure you are alive and safe.

Something of which is admittedly difficult to do, knowing all the horrors that had occurred in Playtime Co. but it wasn’t too troubling for someone like you. DogDay was glad for you about that, impressed even that you had managed to survive thus far before you had met him. 

You patted his head, causing him to look back at you. “Nothing to apologize for! Everyone’s just… a little too crazy nowadays.” You mutter, walking over to a dusty pile and finding a tape. There seemed to be thousands of these tapes all around the Factory, some of which you could’ve sworn recording yourself. 

Being a former employee for Playtime Co. is one thing to say, but being an engineer was a different process. You were only involved in the works of designing and constructing, not once had you ever really got hand in hand with actually building things. But you were highly proud of the work you had done and completed alongside your fellow co-workers, looking back on it now… all it had done simply saddened you.

How it seemed to be the way that the toys seemed to be so lifeless, once so full of joy, love and empathy for everyone in this place all together.

You wouldn’t mind turning back the clock and doing good for once more, the right way this time. When everything was said and done, the toys you came across were well justified in their anger for being abandoned–but you weren’t looking to be on the top list of being killed either. Considering how you had gotten lucky apparently by quitting the day before your co-workers had all disappeared.

Getting through this place was no trouble, you remember some good places of this Factory like the back of your hand. Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy of whom is his spouse, was rather different to the likes of the tall-blue furred beast. Rather inconceivable in behaviors, Kissy Missy was a perturbed ally, one you didn’t expect. All the toys you met so far, (save for Poppy, and Kissy Missy) had full intentions to kill you from going any further.

This Factory is a whole goddamn amalgamation of mysteries you weren’t sure you wanted to solve anymore. Let alone having any trust in every being you come across now too, how disturbing must this get? You sure as hell weren’t Elliot Ludwig. 

“I simply wish I could be of more help.” DogDay recounted with a mournful tune, breaking you out of your thoughts and consolation. You frown at him, wanting to offer comfort: the words could not come through. He shuffled around to begin looking for things too, but now something had crossed your mind. 

You still couldn’t piece together almost everything between DogDay and Catnap, some things he had said back at the heretic altar had stuck with you. Until now it was dismissable, out of sight and out of mind you supposed. Though you recounted some thoughts that had warmed you in ways you didn’t expect, at first meet he already was of great character–someone you truly wanted to be around.

The repugnant smell that had always seemed to be invading your senses was gone now, this particular area was an untouched one. “DogDay… do you mind if I ask you something?” You spoke, stepping over the rubbish and noting the sound footsteps that echo in your wake. Don’t walk too much, this area may be empty but it didn’t mean that Catnap wasn’t watching. That cat was terrifying to you. Permeating nightmares had run endlessly through your mind, and his gas before when calling back on previous close counters with the obsessed follower of the prototype were far too close. 

Continually he had gone about looking for anything that may be of assistance to you both, still he had spoken in reply, “Angel, I will answer anything. You deserve as such.” DogDay recounted, noting what he had said to you before you fell to the slumbers of sweet, sweet sleep. 

Cool, cool cool… that was dandy and nice of him. You just weren’t sure how to articulate the very question that lays burning in your mouth, for fear of the fact you might be gazed upon with ranicid and covert questioning, like an ornery old bitch. Pointedly you stepped around the rubble, in turn you came across an old set-up, as if there used to be children here. A blanket laying upon the ground and the ravaged pillows, still in condition that you could say that was okay to be recycled for use. Still quite in a-okay position to sit down on, waiting for DogDay to finish scrambling around.

“So,” You began, lacing your fingers together and intertwining them purely out of your nerves spiking in your body as of right now. “What’s… the deal between you and Catnap?” Abruptly, at those words, his very being felt as if he tensed up. You couldn’t read him right now, suddenly incomprehensible to understand. 

“I suppose you should know about it, in order to really understand Catnap.” He motioned, steadily crawling over to where you sat. “Catnap was someone you could get along great with, quiet and not much of a talker, but actions speak louder than words Angel.” 

Then, there was a lapse in his words; DogDay was doing his best to keep himself steady and calm. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to fall apart in front of you, that is not very leader-like of someone such as DogDay.

“Oh, his actions spoke so much more for him than one little word.” He nodded, laying his head upon his crossed arms. DogDay had made himself comfortable as he shifted to a proper position. “But, things happened. Very bad things.” You were albeit surprised he was willingly sharing such information with you, as personal as it would appear. 

Still, you had remained muted, this was something that could conceivably help you in dealing with the nightmare cat later on. “Something had happened to him, something I wasn’t aware of. Angel, he.. wasn’t the same Catnap. He wasn’t my friend anymore.” Now, you could understand this well.

You yourself never had a good trade off within all your relationships, no matter what kind of relationship it was… be it; platonic, romantic, friends even! Humans are odd and sometimes indescribable in nature, but it simply has always been this way. But friends change, sometimes partially and even supernaturally.

In DogDay’s case, it was gruesome and religious. Catnap by no means was someone to act fool with, something you could pick out with merely just from first impressions. In passing, this was no offense whatsoever–personally that cat looked scary as hell.

“All my friends just,” Then, DogDay allowed himself to breathe again once more. “I wouldn’t wish it even on my own worst enemy.”

“The Prototype?” You snorted, shifting your weight from one end to the other as you gave him a benign quizzical look. 

“Angel.”

“I'm messing with you!” 

You waved him off, then put your hands in your lap. It was oddly endearing in how you behaved, the normalcy around here is rare, DogDay would admit. “So it seems, Prototype is his god. I don’t understand every detail, but The Prototype saved him.” He beckoned, recounting the mention of the Prototype from not even two minutes ago. 

“So Catnap began viewing this, Prototype as such?” You finished for him, tilting your head. Your companion nodded, lifting his head to recover proper eye contact with you. 

“Poppy, the rest who are on your side want nothing more to end the terror of the Prototype’s reign. Come to save me Angel, I thank you so much for that.” Honesty was a fickle thing for DogDay since recalling recent events, but had it come to you? The fearless dog didn’t mind. 

“Oh it’s nothing to be thanked for,” You grin at him, ever so slightly. But he’ll take that, “You were in so much pain. That’s a position no innocent person, or toy deserves to be in.”

DogDay had to consider this for a moment, so much consideration had been done lately. Yet, it was all done to simply understand the chaos underlying this factory, no doubt it had caused a lot of trauma (to many in this place) alone. “You're right about that, Angel, I suppose I had gotten too comfortable in all my reckless decadence.” Willfully, he was well aware of his actions as a leader. Some of which he had questioned why he had made them.

Your hand on his ragged-torn furred head had snapped DogDay out of his conscious thoughts, “We all deserve peace, that means you too DogDay.” 

You were right.

It seems there are still many things to be learned.

“You are far too kind to me.” He sighed, leaning into your hand. You never moved your hand away from him. 

“Though we should probably get you cleaned up.” That sentence alone suddenly broke the comfortable atmosphere, still much rather comedic however. 

“Right,” DogDay barked, as if he really was laughing. His whole body shook, it was rather a wave of happiness. Something he had not often felt, it had almost shocked him a little. “I believe they would have some bandages and towels nearby, water too.” Your companion then noted it would most likely be at a medical station somewhere.

You raised a brow at this, causing DogDay to nod with an air of laughter about him as he spoke once more whilst you had hoisted him over your shoulders. “I worked with children quite more often than not, you would be surprised at the amount of things that happen during playtime Angel.”

[Taglist: @zacklover24 ]

[littleluvsie]

in moments | spencer reid x reader

a/n: little thing i wrote today maybe intended for longer series, not super edited (sorry hehe). trying to get back into the habit of writing with this new side blog. send me any requests if you'd like <3

wc: 1.9k

warnings: fem reader, use of she/her pronouns (reader), shy!reader, early seasons shy spencer, just pure fluff (for now)

There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in anyone’s mind that the BAU changed when you and Spencer seemingly arrived at their doorstep out of nowhere – both of you young and bright-eyed, but an undeniable force together, a wealth of intelligence. But sometimes – especially in moments like this – the team wondered how either of you managed to function in society up until now. Everyone is watching curiously, trying and failing to hide their amused smiles behind their coffee cups.

You’re nervous. They see it in the way you fiddle with the hem of your sweater behind your back, the way you squeak out your words like you’re afraid of them. If anxiety were personified, it’d look incredibly reminiscent of you. Spencer isn’t any better. From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, every inch of exposed skin is visibly tinted with a cherry-red hue, and his eyes continue to fixate on everything, everywhere except your face. 

“How are they even getting anything done right now? They look like they’re both about to throw up,” Emily mutters. 

Morgan nods, “My money is on both of them having nervous breakdowns in the next ten minutes.” 

Penelope tries her very best to swallow her laugh, but her efforts prove to be futile as a giggle manages to escape from her lips anyway. She quickly coughs and covers her mouth with her fingertips in an attempt to stifle it, but to no avail. Both you and Spencer hear it and glance over with adorably similar facial expressions, brows tightly knitted together and a hint of a pout gracing your lips. 

When you’re only met with silence, you tilt your head questioningly. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing! How is it going over there? Did you guys find anything?” 

“Yeah, actually. Spencer thinks that the Unsub’s location can be narrowed down to these specific neighborhoods given the pattern of…” As you turn to look at Spencer, you realize you’ve made the greatest mistake in your life. It’s as if every possible nerve ending you have in your body surges with electrical current, and you swear you can feel your heart pumping from the middle of your throat. His eyes meet yours, and he’s closer to you than you remember. Was he here the whole time? You have the sudden urge to crawl under the desk and stay there for as long as you can get away with it.

Do his lips always look like this? Has his hair grown out since yesterday? Is he furrowing his brows?

You realize that you haven’t spoken in what must be at least thirty seconds. Spencer would know how long. You feel even worse.  

“Given the patterns in where the victims were found.” you finish quietly. 

Spencer swivels his chair to face the team and continues with his explanation, but you can barely hear him as all of your thoughts focus on the fact that his leg is now pressed up against yours. You’ve come to the natural conclusion that your brain is no longer functional anymore, your career is over. Maybe if you beg on your knees, Hotch will let you take a sick day? 

“Alright, let’s send smaller teams out and cover all possible locations, see what we can find,” Hotch announces from behind you. As he begins assigning pairs, you breathe out a sigh of relief. Now, you’ll have at least a few hours before you have to face Spencer again, and hopefully, by that point, all of the residual awkwardness of your stumble will be completely obliterated from everyone’s memory.

“And (Y/N) and Reid, you’ll take the last of the locations. Let’s debrief here once we’re done.” 

As you stare at Hotch in disbelief, you swear there’s a very, very faint hint of a smile on his face. 

You’re going to kill him. 

~*~*~

Spencer reads through the case file for the millionth time since getting in the car with you. There’s really no point to it; you and everyone else knows he has an eidetic memory, he only had to read it once. If you asked, he’d lie and tell you he does it to pass the time or to just fill the silence with the sound of pages turning. But he thinks he really does it so that he doesn’t have to hear himself stumble over his words trying to talk to you. 

It’s torture, being around you. You’re pretty and smart and nice and so wonderful, and if he thinks about it for too long, it hurts his head. Spencer wants to be around you all of the time and simultaneously none of the time – it’s an unsolvable equation, and he hates it. It’s torturous. 

Even so, he knows his best days are always spent with you. 

Most of your shared time is inevitably spent dissecting the neverending influx of cases received by the BAU. But every once in a while, there are times scattered between the chaos. Sometimes it’s the early mornings before anyone else has arrived, and the both of you drink your coffees together in comfortable silence. Sometimes it’s the late nights spent sitting at your desks across from each other with hot takeout and tired eyes. In these moments, both of you can talk about the books you’ve been reading recently, the best classical music composers, or your favorite episodes of Doctor Who, without any hesitation or uncertainty. Perhaps the delirium of sleep deprivation gives you courage, or maybe it’s just that both of you feel safer in the quiet, when the world feels a lot less overwhelming and all of your focus can be devoted to one another. Regardless, it’s what Spencer looks forward to the most, above all else. 

So, he tries. 

He clears his throat, “D-Did you know that Carlo Lorenzini, the guy that wrote Pinocchio, was said to be obsessed with the human nose?” 

“Really? Huh… I wonder what the origin of the obsession was, y’know where it came from.”

And for just an instant, the anxiety has subsided, quickly replaced by a much stronger, fluttering from the depths of his stomach. 

“Not sure, but sources say that he frequently wrote about noses in his earlier stories, so whatever the cause was must’ve been prior to the 1880s, when Pinocchio was published.”

You hum in acknowledgement, “Have you heard about the Pinocchio Paradox before?”

“The one created by Peter Eldridge-Smith’s daughter?”

“Yeah, I think her name was Veronique. What do you think of the possible solutions?”

While he thinks of an answer to your question, he also thinks about how seamlessly you manage to fit into the fragments of his mind. He’s never felt more seen than when you glance over at him, when you think he can’t see you. You’re perfect in a way that feels whole and complete to him, as if there’s nothing else he could ever want or need. He thinks about all of this, and much, much more. 

~*~*~

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Spencer asks. He begins to rise from his seat, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you though, I think I need a break anyway.” 

It’s late, everyone else has gone home. All of the fluorescent, overhead lights in the bullpen are off, both of you opting to turn on a few of the surrounding desk lamps instead. 

You don’t particularly like the dark, especially when it’s this late into the night. The walk to the kitchen feels a lot longer this way, your path being guided only by the residual light coming from the streetlights outside. 

There’s a sudden crash to your left, and you yelp, jumping towards Spencer. 

“Sorry! Sorry, that was me. I accidentally kicked a box of files I guess someone left on the floor, it knocked into one of the desks.” 

“No worries! It’s okay. I’m just,” you sigh, “I’m just a little bit afraid of the dark.” 

As your adrenaline levels steadily return to baseline, you’re suddenly hyper aware of how your entire body is quite literally pressed up against Spencer’s side, your hands gripping onto his forearm for dear life. But just as you start to loosen your death grip, you feel Spencer’s fingers searching for you in the dim moonlight. 

Every thought you’ve ever had, every bit of information you’ve ever learned escapes you in a single breath as he intertwines your fingers with his. 

His voice is just barely above a whisper, “I’m a little bit afraid of the dark too.” 

Both of you walk the rest of the way to the kitchen in complete silence and at an incredibly slow pace, as if even the sound of your soles against the linoleum floors would ruin this moment. You almost want to keep the abrasive lights of the kitchen off as you finally walk through the doorway with Spencer in tow; you know that the very second you flip the switch, you’ll have to let go of his hand. It’s not realistic for him to keep holding your hand, you chastise yourself. How would he even make his coffee if you’re holding his hand hostage?

You turn the light on. The alternative would be standing in the dark and you couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for doing so quickly enough. 

A beat passes, your eyes adjust to the sudden change in brightness. You look down, and to your surprise, Spencer’s still holding onto your hand. Worse, he’s rubbing slow circles into the back of your hand with his thumb. I will never recover from this, you think. 

“D-Do you still want coffee?” 

“No, not really,” you respond. With how your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest, you really don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to consume any more caffeine. 

“Me neither,” he trails off. His eyes are glued to the floor as if he’s afraid to meet your gaze, as if it’ll make you realize with sudden clarity that it’s his hand you’re holding and you’ll pull away. 

“As you become drowsier, adenosine accumulates in the neuronal synapse and binds to the respective receptors located in the synapse of specific central nervous systems neurons causing further drowsiness,” you ramble. 

“And caffeine is an adenosine receptor antagonist.”

“Exactly, and knockout mice studies reveal that it’s specifically the adenosine A2A receptor which is a member of the G-protein coupled receptor family.”

“Interesting. Even though you only have one PhD, having it in biology seems to be proving pretty useful,” he smiles. 

“Yeah. I mean, it’s gotten me this far, wait what do you mean only one?”

“Dr. (Y/L/N), you realize I have three, right?” 

“Dr. Reid, please shut up.” 

You make him feel safe. 

“Okay, sorry,” he giggles, “Can you please tell me more about caffeine?” 

And because he asked so nicely, because he smiles at you the way he does, you tell him more. It’s nearly the middle of the night, but you’d still stay up and you would tell him everything you know, as long as he continued looking at you with his soft, brown eyes. 

You both talk about everything and anything either of you think of, all while holding each other in the palm of your hands. 

The next morning, he sits even closer to you. Luckily, it’s slowly getting easier to talk to him without losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, but it’s still hard sometimes. You still get nervous when he looks at you. You can still feel the butterflies flapping against the walls of your stomach, especially when he holds your hand underneath the desk. 

Both of you think you’re being subtle, but everyone notices. They pretend they don’t.

[groovyangelkisses]

no because im just thinking about how the fact that logan doesn't get ill would make him the best partner when you're ill :(

like he would give you so many cuddles and kisses because he knows he won't catch it and if you're freezing he'll put some fluffy socks on you and tuck your sweatpants into them and then use his constantly warm body as your personal hot water bottle :(

im so sick over a man who doesn't exist its not funny any more!! and idc that he's technically a weapon, he is a softie underneath it all and everyone that disagrees can argue w the wall!!

honey you are the cutest thing, this is so good! (especially because i'm dying from a summer cold right now hehe)

logan is absolutely the type to secretly love when your nose gets all red from tissues, though he'll consistently chastize you for rubbing your nose raw :( but it's okay because he'll always kiss your nose after <3

and if you try to get up and do work while you're sick? good luck! he is on your ass the entire day, and if he hears shuffling from your room, he's at your door, "what'dya think you're doin little miss?" and with a guiding tongue click "c'mon, back to bed, you know better, no arguing with the nurse" just to hear you giggle & it makes his heart shatter :(( you look so tired and uncomfy but hearing your congested giggle makes him feel a mix of relief that you're in good spirits, and sadness that you're not feeling as amazing as he thinks you are :((

i also feel that he'll just stay awake while you nap, running his hands over your (slightly sweaty, unfortunately) hair and humming to himself. humming so low you could barely hear it. deep, grovely, but my god. so loving.

he remembers his mother doing this for him when he was a sickly kid, and he remembers the joy and comfort of someone just being there. and even if this is just a little flu, he tells himself that he'll never leave you— sniffles, coughing & all <3

[writingjourney]

a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader

summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.

content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.

As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.

Evidently, he’s struggling.

“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.

“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”

“Of course.”

With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.

“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”

You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.” 

You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.

Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.

“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”

You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.

With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.

Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.

You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.

I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.

I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals

I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments

If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me.  Bye bye!

You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.

“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”

You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else. 

You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.

Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.

He feels so incredibly lonely.

This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.

As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.

His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”

You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”

“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”

“It’s the Cardinal?”

She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”

You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”

She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”

Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.

You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”

Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”

Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.

Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”

“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”

A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He could be disappointed.”

“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.

“Yeah but–”

You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.

“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”

You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.

You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up. 

Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.

This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.

His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.

His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.

As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.

No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity. 

“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”

“I’m truly so sorry.”

He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”

When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–

“Cardinal, are you alright?” 

Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.

“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”

“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”

“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”

 You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”

“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”

As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.

“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…” 

You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”

A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.

“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”

Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.

“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.

Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”

When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.

Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.

Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.

His ad. 

And one of the numbers is missing.

Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.

Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.

For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.

Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.

Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.

If only he was brave enough to change that.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?

In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.

The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.

Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.

Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–

“Hey, have you called him yet?”

You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

“What?”

“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”

Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”

You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.

Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.

Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.

Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.

He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.

No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer. 

Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for?  I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one. 

It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.

He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.

Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀

He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first: 

Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?

The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.

That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?

The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.

He’s got a date. Finally.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.

His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners  of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.

Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.

The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.

His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse. 

And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.

Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–

Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.

“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”

Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”

Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.” 

“Yes.”

“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”

You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.

“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”

You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?

After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.

“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”

“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”

“Cardinal,” you interrupt then. 

“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”

“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…” 

He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”

You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.

“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.

“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”

“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”

“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”

You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”

You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”

He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”

You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”

“I was hoping it was you.”

Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.

Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”

You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”

He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”

“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”

His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”

A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”

The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.

“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.

More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.

“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”

He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”

This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.

“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”

“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”

You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”

“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”

You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.

“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”

You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass. 

Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.

With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap. 

You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.

Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.

You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries. 

With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.

“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.

“Yes, I agree.”

You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”

You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”

He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.

You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.

“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”

You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.

Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.

When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”

It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.

“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.

Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”

You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.

Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.

As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.

Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.

“Please,” you whisper.

He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out  the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.

“Co–”

His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.

For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.

You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.

“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”

Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”

You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”

“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”

A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[meiiie]

a drew imagine pls! or concept about the innocent parts of their relationship. hand holding, hugs, forehead kissing and laying next to each other. love you thanks��🤍🤍

if drew starkey was your boyfriend, he would...

note Hi anon! I'm a bit too busy with school nowadays to make an imagine, but here are some things that I think he would do in a relationship hehe hope this is fine :) pairing bf!drewstarkey x fem!reader warning TOO MUCH FLUFF

ever since you both met on the set of outerbanks s2, you both IMMEDIATELY had a crush on each other.

he would be whispering to chase stokes and be like “yo who is she??? omg she's so beautiful”

whenever you'd be getting ready for a scene and the stylists would be fixing your makeup, he would just be in the background and secretly take pics of you

you would giggle because he'd think you didn't know, but you could clearly see him from the reflection of the MIRROR.

after some quite of time, you both decided to be in a low-key relationship, “accidentally” brushing your hands while on set and glancing at each other!!! the tension was so there and everyone could sense it ong

even if your role was a pogue and you both always had to act like you were fighting for the show, the fans would always be saying:

user8294793: holy shit why do they have so much tension while they're fighting, this doesn't make any sense?? ilovemadelyncline: GUYS IF THEY DON'T GET TOGETHER AT THE END OF THIS SHOW, I WILL LOSE IT

but little do they know you both were already together IRL 😭

okay so this is after making your relationship public!! i feel like whenever you're done with your intense crying scenes he would just say “you are so hot there baby omg i'm so proud of you” LIKE WDYM HOT!? but in seriousness, he would give you the biggggest hugs! and lots of praising “you did so great baby”, “i admire u so much”

intense neck kisses. feel like this is random, but he'd just give you a big smooch at the back of your neck just to tease you.

“eeeeewwwww oh my god” a big patch of his saliva on the back of your neck, and he'd be like “tehe u can't catch me”

after a very tiring day of shooting, you'd both always just lay down beside each other on the beach while he's just admiring your features, like everything. the way your hair falls perfectly, the way how your eyebrows are shaped, the way your eyes relax when he gives you forehead kisses, the way your lips smiles downwards when you realize he's admiring you

man was so into it you, you had to throw sand at his face to snap out of it

“PLEH *cough* plllfkfkfhhthfjj WHY DID YOU DO THAT”

“you were staring!!! it's rude to stare, y'know!?”

“i'm your boyfriend!!!!! i'm not allowed to look at my amazingly, stunning, gorgeous, girlfriend!?!?!?”

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 179 }

company.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ let's end each other's lonely nights | be each other's paradise | need a picture for my frame | someone to share my reign… }

you walked to school in the early hours of the morning, simply looking down at the novel you were reading in your hand. a smile paints your features the more you basked and read each scene, and as you were in the midst of turning the page, you felt a strange sensation creeping up on you-

the sensation of being followed.

your steps begin to slow just then, unaware of the large hand that reaches out to you-

as sung jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle of your name, wrapping an arm around you as he brings you closer to the front of his chest.

“morning, angel.” he purrs into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you give him a playful pout, lightly pushing yourself away from him.

you missed the lost expression seen in his gaze the moment you pulled away from him, trying to calm down your racing heart as you smoothed down the skirt of your uniform.

with a cough, you put your novel back within the confines of your bag, choosing instead to walk side-by-side with jinwoo to school.

you and jinwoo had a special relationship-

this didn’t mean that you two were a couple or anything, oh no.

what you meant was that you still had memories of another life with jinwoo…

where you and him were both hunters, taking on raids while supporting each other throughout it all.

jinwoo was your best friend during those times; he helped train you, a mere b-rank hunter, making you more proficient in your raids as you slowly rose up the ranks, given you freedom to attend more high level raids despite never being able to level up like he could.

your memories became a little hazy after the war, and once jinwoo used the cup of reincarnation one last time-

you found yourself being 14 again, living with your parents and little brother in your humble home. perhaps what came as the most shocking to you was how you retained all of your memories.

which was why you felt so happy when you and jinwoo ended up going to the same high school together. he was a great source of comfort during the times when memories of your past life became too much to bear.

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself-

you’ve since then gotten better at dealing with the hardships of your past life, even getting the tiniest bit upset when jinwoo admitted to taking on all the monarchs on his own, spending a total of 27 years within some strange, dimensional rift. you knew that he had won the war all on his own while telling you how he succeeded his mission, now living his life as a normal human despite how truly godlike he was.

jinwoo’s knuckles were suddenly felt being gently placed against the top of your head. “you’re dozing off again.”

“what? i am not dozing off, woowoo.”

a blush immediately paints his features when you refer to him by that stupid nickname. “h-hey, that nickname is dumb as hell, and that’s not even how you pronounce my name! the ‘woo’ in ‘jinwoo’ is more subtle than that, like a soft ~u.”

“heh, whatever, woowoo…!”

you giggle when his eyes flash purple in annoyance, running to catch up to you, but all while hiding his grin.

you would never know the depths of his feelings for you, and that fact alone was killing the shadow monarch on the inside.

{ … }

you and jinwoo end up enjoying lunch together back in the classroom, with you taking casual sips of your juice.

“so do you have track practice today?”

jinwoo takes a rice ball from your lunch box as you stole a piece of his bulgogi beef. “yeah, i do.”

“hehe, did you want me to hang out with you on the field?”

a soft smile paints jinwoo’s features, “if you don’t mind, then yeah. i could use your company.”

a teasing grin paints your expression, “you still trying to get with cha hae-in?”

jinwoo chokes on his rice ball, “w-what the- you know about that?!”

“what? it’s so obvious that you’re still into her! want me to look her up and give you her number or something?”

you giggle in response, basking in jinwoo’s embarrassed expression. you recall how jinwoo was pretty much dating cha hae-in in the original timeline, and they were truly such a cute couple in your eyes!

two of the most renowned s-rank hunters taking on high level gates, never once failing their missions or goals. because of jinwoo’s blossoming romance, you, being simply labeled as his best friend, took a step back and gave them the space they needed in order to let their romance bloom.

and now, with time going backwards due to jinwoo’s actions, you were certain he was going to try and capture her heart once more, leaving you more than willing to play as his wingwoman once more.

despite your playful words, jinwoo appeared uncomfortable, shifting his rice around his lunch box with his chopsticks, eyebrows furrowed in response. noticing the change in his demeanor, you softly ask him, “are you okay?”

your question snaps him out of his reveries. “i’m fine. here, you can have the rest of my lunch… i’ll be right back.”

you could tell something was wrong with jinwoo, watching as he stood up a bit too fast for your liking when you stop him, allowing your hand to wrap around his wrist. “wait, where are you going?”

he looks down at you with gentle grey eyes, allowing the pad of his thumb to grace at your cheek as he wiped away an imaginary stain. after that simple touch, he points to your empty juice bottle.

“i was going to get you more juice. are you opposed to it?”

your eyes go wide, but you shook your head in response. “no, i don’t mind it.”

jinwoo gives you a nod, shaking your grip off of his wrist, leaving you utterly confused as you kept staring at his quickly retreating form.

“how strange…” you look down at your shadow, seeing a few, glowing purple eyes glancing back at you.

at least he still wanted to protect you-

even when you knew you did something to upset him.

{ … }

jinwoo told you he didn’t mind you watching him at practice-

but you didn’t feel like your presence was warranted after upsetting him at lunch earlier. so, you hid out at the library, working on some assignments while doing your readings for your classes. you had thoughts about going home first, but deep down, you knew that avoiding jinwoo wouldn’t help with making this whole situation any better.

as you were writing, you immediately became aware of the shadow looming over you, a pair of solemn, glowing violet eyes staring down at you with a neutral expression.

“why didn’t you join me at practice?”

you tremble a bit, detecting the accusation in jinwoo’s voice as you let out a sigh.

“how could i join you when you’re mad at me?” you whisper back at him.

hearing his scoff tones down your anxieties the tiniest bit, and you felt your shoulders visibly relax at the sound of it. you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze, seeing jinwoo leaning closer to you while placing a hand on the table.

he was dressed in his track uniform, consisting of a purple and white shirt with matching shorts. he taps the top of his sneakers against the linoleum floors, giving you a nice view of his muscular calves.

you were ready to tease him about it, your lips puckered up as a low whistle escapes from them when jinwoo suddenly wraps an arm around the back of your head.

your words die against your throat, eyes going wide when your face was pressed directly against jinwoo’s chest. he runs his fingers through your hair, a pained whisper heard coming from him when he asks,

“do you really not feel a single thing from me? am i doomed to remain just friends with you in this timeline, too?”

your mouth goes dry when you hear his question, and you were uncertain as to how to respond to him. you felt your lips open and close, yet still, not a single syllable would come out.

jinwoo lets out a disappointed ‘tsk’ then, shoving you away from him as he gazes down at you with a neutral look. “forget about it. just… forget about it.”

you watch helplessly when jinwoo picks up his duffel bag and backpack, facing away from you as your heart clenched painfully in response.

if you didn’t stop him now, then you’d lose him forever.

shoving back your chair with such intensity that it nearly falls to the ground, you grab jinwoo’s wrist once more. his eyes go wide, and you catch his shocked expression momentarily before standing on the tip of your toes to fully kiss him.

his reaction was immediate- instinctive even when he wraps his arms around your back, bringing you achingly closer to him all while deepening the kiss.

you lost track of time, uncertain of how many kisses you shared when you finally found the strength to pull away from him. he keeps both of his arms wrapped tightly around you, purple eyes gazing down at you in amusement and love, all while running his hands through your hair.

“i… i always thought that you always deserved a girl like cha hae-in… because, well, you know… she was pretty powerful… and gorgeous, too.”

jinwoo scoffs at your admission, but remains quiet, wishing for you to go on and explain yourself.

“that’s why, i kept all my feelings hidden for you.” unable to meet his gaze, you play with the front of his shirt, smoothing the fabric while picking away at the imaginary lint. “i always figured you deserved better than me-“

“tch, stop.”

jinwoo then gently pulls you back by your hair, eyes becoming more passionate when he crashes his lips against yours. you could only whimper in response to his sudden kiss, hands remaining curled up against his chest as jinwoo presses you even closer to him.

he pulls away first, lightly panting before admitting to you, “please… i never wanted hae-in… but you were so determined to set us up that neither one of us knew what to do.”

you blink up at him in complete shock. “what…? but, she had such a huge crush on you…?!”

jinwoo chuckles all while tracing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. “well yeah… she liked me, but that didn’t mean that i liked her. how could i like her when i already had you?”

your head was spinning, yet despite it all, you couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “eh? but didn’t you say you wanted to join track to meet her someday?”

jinwoo lets out a huff, bringing your frame into his chest once more before coming clean to you. “forgive me and my poor attempts at making you jealous. joining track was just an excuse, really.”

his admission finally earns bouts of laughter from you, feeling so relieved and happy that your feelings were requited after all. after spending a few more minutes in each other’s embrace, jinwoo gives your body one last squeeze before pulling away from you, giving your forehead a gentle kiss.

“how about i walk back home with you, then, we can talk about our plans for our upcoming first date.”

you giggle, watching as jinwoo packs up your notebooks and assignments before carrying your bag for you, giving you a lovesick expression while you cling on to his side.

perhaps dreams do come true after all…

a.n. - this is so self indulgent, but oh so much fun to write! (/ω＼)

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[nishloves]

drunk; kim mingyu

mingyu x reader // words : 1k approx. genre : teeth-rotting fluff. warnings : too many kisses and life cycle of malaria, very slightly jealous gyu too // unedited.

you stumbled as you spilled water on your shirt, a dopey smile on your face as you tried to close the recyclable plastic bottle- only to turn the cap in wrong direction and dropping the cap in the process.

"shit-" you giggled as mingyu stared up at you, his eyes wide like saucers as his mouth fell agape on your ministerings.

"are you alright?" he asked, his eyes on your wet shirt as he looked up at you quizzically.

"mingyu~" you whined, a grin on your face as you stagger towards him, a stumble in your unbalanced steps as you tripped; mingyu was fast on his feet, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you on his lap while you giggled, making his lips quirk up in a smile too.

"are you drunk?" he laughed as you squished his face between your hands, you lips making a pout as you attached your lips with his, "mwah!"

"why do i think that you're drunk?"

"pak pak pakak!"

his eyebrows shot up in amusement as a huge laughter bellowed out of his chest, his eyes lining with tears as he endearingly laughed on your quite accurate representation of a hen.

"hehe~" you giggled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i don't smell any alcohol on you though-" mingyu said, tucking back a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"i am not drunk- that's whyyyyyy," you whispered in his ears.

"it sure doesn't seem like that-"

"won't you believe me?" you pouted, your eyes crinkling up in a perfect puppy eyes as mingyu cooed at you, nuzzling your nose with his, "i believe you."

"as you should!" you grinned up at him, "i am just very happy- i get like this when i am happy."

"what made you so happy then?" mingyu asked, his eyes soft as he admired your face, his heart beating at a rapid pace as he noticed just how close you are to him; mingyu had heard that sometimes you did get extremely silly and almost in a drunken like state when you were extremely happy and it was so contrasting to your normal calm personality that mingyu couldn't help but dote on you- at every given second.

"just-" you started saying but stopped, your brows scrunched up as you leaned in and connected his lips with yours for a short kiss again, your silly smile returning back to your face as you continued, "just because i am happy!"

"you are?" he asked, caressing your cheek.

"yes, i am! and oh! do you know the life cycle of plasmodium vivax?"

"life cycle of what-"

you rolled up your sleeves and puckered your lips, coughing to switch to your singing voice as you started, "when a mosquito bites a human! ow ow, she spits sporozoites in his blood! ew ew! then the little rascals travel up to our liver cells and multiiiiply till our cell bursts!"

"bursts!?"

"oh yeah! then they travel up to our rbcs~ travel yeah! reproducing asexually to bursts our blood cell so that we get a fever!"

"reproduce in our blood!?"

"mhm! and when the female mosquito bite bites us- fertilization take place in her intestines!"

"this isn't rhyming."

"then she bites us again and dun dun! you have malaria!"

"i love you," he said, his eyes soft as he stared at you, a genuine smile lacing his lips.

your lips froze as you grin up at him, engulfing him in your hug and squirming in his lap you said, "i love you too~", it seemed as if your senses had returned after his sweet confession and now heat rose to your neck and cheeks as you melted in his touch, hiding your face in his chest as you murmur, "sorry- sorry if i was being annoying."

when mingyu had not replied for a few seconds you looked up at him, a frown evident on his face as he looked away from you, "you would never annoy me."

"then why are you upset?" you asked as you tilted his face towards you; his face still in a pout and a frown as he sighed.

"how could you ever annoy me? and-" he paused.

"and?"

"and..." he breathed, his cheeks slightly red as he asked, "just how many have seen you in such adorable state?"

your eyebrows and lips quirked up in amusement as a smile broke out on your face, chuckling you made him face you, momentarily taken aback at how freaking handsome your boyfriend was.

"how many?" he asked again, his voice in a whisper as you almost cried because of how cute he was.

"many people- my friends, family members and some of my exes have seen me like this," you said, noticing his frown deepening as you kissed his jaw, "but..." you said.

"but?"

"you will be the one to see it the most, and the only one from now," you smiled at him as you saw his frown morph into a grin as he giggled alongside you, stretching his pinkie towards you he asked, "promise?"

you intertwined your pinkie with his, "promise."

[sturniolo04]

Sweatpants M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

Summary: savannah is obessed with her boyfriends sweatpants for very obvious reasons.

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

*you know I had to write this and post it after the vlog today hehe :)*

Just like any other non busy day in savannah and matt's career, matt spent the night at your house.

"good morning princess"

matt greets you at the kitchen counter kissing your forehead, clothed in just grey sweatpants and there it was. Matt's red waistband of his underwear. He knows what he is doing and its almost like his is mocking you everytime he does so.

"sav, savannah hello"

matt reiterates waving his hands in front of you face

"huh oh shit sorry"

savannah chuckles out lowering her head to her cereal in front of her for breakfast.

"where did you go girl"

he asks the girl sitting in front of him

"no where"

she states simply clearing her throat. You know exactly where her mind went, she could only think about stripping him of his sweatpants and just suck-

"savannah baby"

oh shit you did it again

"huh sorry baby but you and these god damn sweatpants I just want to pull them off"

you groan out

"be my guest"

matt chuckles at you walking over to you as you stood from your seat dropping to your knees, gazing up at him before yanking his sweats and boxers down in one motion, allow his erection to spring free.

"you know what to do yeah"

he hums out running his fingers through your messy hair form it into a makeshift ponytail, pushing your head to where his pink tip touches your lips.

"open up pretty"

he coos taking his length in his free hand tapping it on you lips as you slowly open up taking in just the tip, teasing him.

"fuck"

matt groans out as savannah continue to slip more of him in her mouth.

"oh god so pretty with my dick in your mouth like that"

Savannah pushes her head for her nose to meet her boyfriends pelvis slightly choking on it.

"holy shit girl how can you take that much in your mouth"

matt moans out tipping his head back in the air breaking focus from the beautiful sight below him. Savaanh pull off of him coughing and gasping for air, continuing to kitty lick his tip.

"fuck just like that im gonna cum in that pretty mouth"

matt groans out as you take him whole again in your mouth, nose touching his pelvis after bobbing your head along his shaft a few times.

"fuck fuck fuckk"

he groans out. You guys were so lost in the moment that you didn't realize that Chris was finally coming up the stairs from his room.

"OH MY GOD FUCK"

chris exclaims turning around at the top of the step as he is completely blindsided by his brother getting blown off by his girlfriend.

"uhhh fuck"

matt lets out one final groan as your head stills as he unloads in your mouth, swallowing and showing him your tongue as proof.

"you guys are fucking nasty go to your room for that shit its two feet away"

chris complains going back downstairs forgetting completely what he even came up for.

"oops"

savannah giggles out as matt pulls up his boxers and sweats leaning down placing a loving kiss on your lips.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @adirtylittleheart @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Death seeking creator with Zhongli idea

Whenever Zhongli remembers that it was their that the creator was hurt to this degree, he felt like he should go through the painfullest of deaths but he can't... Not right now, not while leaving the creator in such a state. So, he retired from the Funeral Palor and spend his days caring for the creator.

Today, too, Zhongli walked into the tranquil adobe of the creator as he carried the tea he personally brewed to offer the creator. The tea contained the calming effects that is very much needed for the creator's tired mind.

Maybe because of his relentless efforts or because of the effects of all the tea and medicine, the creator is becoming a bit more stable these days, meaning they are not asking him to squish them with the meteor he summon.

Relishing in the small change of the creator, Zhongli stood in front of the creator's room and asked, "Your grace, may I come in?"

What came back to him was the answer "Yes, you may," accompanied by the small giggles of the creator.

Zhongli opened the door and looked for the creator's form wondering what could make them so amused. And there they were, wearing white silk gown, sitting in the middle of the silk bed Ninggaung had presented to them. Their face bloomed into a full smile as they locked eyes with him.

The smile was so radiant that Zhongli would have liked to bath in all of its glory

.

.

.

if not for the gold, gold, gold everywhere invading all of his five senses.

The gold was staining the silk bed sheet, the white gown, the marble floor and the creator's arms, and legs and face.

In their hand was a hair pin Zhongli had presented to them a week ago, contented in the fact that they stopped asking him to kill them.

Sitting in the pool of their own blood, the creator said, "Surprise!", like a child whose prank was successful.

"You...r.... Your.... Grace.... What have you done?"

Zhongli asked as he dropped the tea pot tray in his hands to run to your side.

"Hehe, I... surprised you right!" They asked as they coughed up blood.

"I got the idea... from Kaeya. The best way to disappoint someone is by making them hope and breaking that hope."

That was their last words before they disappeared into thin air and left nothing but ash.

Ah-

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD

YOU

YOUR BRAIN, GIVE ME IT. THIS IS EXQUISITE. SO MARVELOUS. JUST ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY PERFECT.

I BOW WITH MY HEAD SLAMMING INTO THE FLOOR TO YOU, OH GREAT BRILLIANT ANON. OH HOW LOVELY THIS WRITING IS, IT IS LIKE IVE BEEN SHOWN THE WONDERS OF MY OWN MIND

GIVE THIS ANON PRAISE EVERYONE, GIVE THEM SO MANY PROPS AND HONOR. TRULY A WONDERFUL DISPLAY OF WRITING AND PUTTING FULL FORCE INTO THE IDEA OF OUR DEATH SEEKING CREATOR AU

[onyourmarkks]

i <3 big noses (L.Jn)

pairing: fem!reader Bf!jeno

sexual content!!

You’re currently enjoying your pasta dinner on the island sitting across from your, oh so handsome boyfriend. 

his features more prominent under the kitchen light, making you not able to look away from him, just the real thought of kissing those big pink lips, and having those big muscles hold your thighs down while yo-

 “is there sauce on my face or…?” he asks wiping his mouth

you immediately come to your senses, you were staring at him the entire time, engulfed in your perverted thoughts, your hand flies to cover your mouth out of embarrassment, “n-no no, it’s not you, i was just so deep in thought!!” you try to lie, “yeah? what were you thinking about?” he puts his fork down and leans on his elbows to place all his attention on you. 

you felt like you were in the hot seat, “just thinking about what i’m making for lunch tomorrow, you know” you nod, trying to sell the lie, he chuckles at your blant lie but he plays along. 

“what are you doing after this?” he asks, picking up his bowl walking to the sink, behind your back, “um probably a shower and then right to bed.” you answer putting some pasta in your mouth, “ride my face tonight” he says bracing his back against the sink, you immediately erupt in a fit of coughs and jeno gets concerned patting your back “oh god are you okay?” he asks concerned, you come down from your coughing fit trying to give him an answer. “yeah i can fit it in my very very busy schedule tonight” 

jeno giggled “i’m glad you can make time for me” 

——

you finished your shower and walked into your shared bedroom, jeno was sitting on the bed on his phone in a white t-shirt and black sweats, you ultimately wanted to bite your fists because he looked so hot. 

“come here” he said patting his lap, you shook your head “let me get dressed first” which was a stupid excuse “you’re literally gonna end up naked what’s the point?” he laughed at you, making you feel more embarrassed for your lie. 

even though you wanted it, being with him made you undeniably nervous. 

you dropped your towel and walked towards him, straddling his lap, letting your hands fall over his shoulders and eventually make their way into his hair, you could feel him get hard under you which made you immediately get wet. 

“so fuckin pretty..” he says admiring you before placing his lips on yours in a sensual kiss, you were burning up on the inside, his big veiny hands made their way to your sides to rub and eventually move down and grope your ass which made you moan into his mouth allowing him to move his tongue inside. 

you two continue on like this, basically dry humping eachother to no ends, until jeno leans back on the bed and ushers you upwards “sit on my face” he prompts you, “are you sure? is this even safe?” you question him placing both your knees on the side of his head, “i’ll be fine okay? and even if i suffocate like this, trust me i’ll be more than happy.” he says with a straight face making you giggle “okay hehe” you say lowering yourself down 

not exactly allowing all your weight onto his face, but jeno notices it and pulls you flush down onto his face 

his big nose hitting your clit as he eats you out like no tomorrow, this angle allows you to feel every thing. jeno is below you eating like a absolute mad man, which is driving you nuts, you grind down onto his nose adding to your pleasure while he basically tongue fucks you. 

“j-jeno… fuck” you moan his name repeatedly, you felt him hum against you, he eventually moves you to where your clit is flat against his tongue and he urges you to rut against his hot mouth. 

this was enough to send you over the edge 

“jeno… oh my god i’m coming” you announce to him as you literally let everything go on his tongue. you eventually ride out your high on his face, more like his nose. you move off of him so he can get up 

“so… how was it?” he was awaiting a review, mouth, chin, and nose glistening in your cum, “i love your nose. so much” you breathe out and a blush spreads across his face, “well if you love my nose… i know what else you’ll love..” he says toying at the band of his boxers, making you giggle.

—

eeeek my third post!!! let me know some feed back, also thank you guys for liking my jisung story!!! please send requests and let me know what i can do better!!!

[minminyoonjii]

What about minchan smut where they go out to a convenience store together to grab snacks for their movie night only to bump into someone and instantly fall head over heels with them and end up bringing them back to their house and railing them into oblivion turning them cock drunk and brain dead?

-🤍🦇 if I may

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Movie night snacks are always essential. Who knew bumping into a wall would lead to this?

💛AN

Definitely, 🤍🦇-nonnie hehe. First fic after a while, I hope it's good.

🌹CW

Cunnilingus|Oral Sex|Protection Used|Blowjob|Oral Fixation|Pussy Drunk! Lee Minho|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Dacryphilia|Needy! Reader|Slow to Rough Sex|Switch! Lee Minho|Spitroasting|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 2.3K

"Hyung, did you get everything?" Minho asked, hooking his chin over Chan's shoulder. "Looks about everything. Are you sure this is enough pudding?" he teased, running his fingers through Minho's hair. Minho tsk, nipping Chan's ear, "Very funny, hyung," he muttered. Chan chuckled, "If that's all, we should be good then," he said, walking ahead, facing Minho. A firm grunt escaped his lips when he bumped into something. 

You winced, thankful that the cans you held didn't fall on you. Chan's eyes widened, "Oh shit, sorry," he apologised, helping you up. You coughed up a laugh, "It's fine, but to my defence. I didn't expect a walking wall." you said, eyeing Chan's build. He chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "Yikes, sorry again," he said, picking up the things you dropped. Minho snorted at his boyfriend's blush-tinted cheeks. 

Chan gulped, taking a good look at you as he handed the cans. You smiled, oblivious to his blatant stare, "So, movie night snacks or just stock up?" you asked, gesturing to the handful of snacks. Minho blinks, hitting Chan's shoulder subtly, "Movie night, what about you? That's quite a number of canned fruits," he rambled, snapping out of his daze. Minho chuckled inwardly, "Don't you think it's rude to question a person's grocery choices, hyung?" he teased, rubbing Chan's ears. 

You giggled, "Well if he's being rude, then I'm ruder for bringing it up," you said, taking Minho aback. Minho's jaw dropped into a slight agape before he blinked out of it, "I didn't mean like that, I just-," he said, flustered by your comment. Chan chuckled, rubbing Minho's back, "Deep breaths, baby," he said, egging Minho on. Minho scoffed, biting his tongue before burying his face in the crook of Chan's neck. You cooed, "Aww, I'm sorry if I made you shy," you said, looking at Minho sympathetically.

"It's okay," Minho mumbled, peeking out briefly. Chan felt his heartthrob, "Since you have the drinks and we have the snacks, why don't you come to our place for a movie?" he suggested, letting his emotions take the lead. You freeze, "Huh?" you questioned, wondering if you heard wrong. Chan cleared his throat, "I meant what I said, would you like to hang out with us?" he asked, his fingers over Minho's firm arms wrapped around his waist.

You bit your lips, weighing the pros and cons until you decided 'Fuck it, they're hot,'. With a deep inhale, "I'm down," you agreed, smiling at them. Chan mimicked one back, "Great, our car is out front. If you don't mind we can ride it together," he prompted. You nodded your head, "Fine by me," you said, laying your purchases on the counter. Minho turned to face you, "My name's Minho," he said, waiting for yours in return. You chuckled, answering him, "And you?" you questioned, looking at Chan.

"Oh, I'm Chan. I didn't realise the late introduction," he said, carrying the items. You shrugged, "Me neither," you said, growing comfortable with their presence by the second.

"Nice place you got here," you said, setting the ingredients aside. Minho hummed, "It's very minimal," he said, pouring the snacks into containers. You nodded, "I bet your rooms showcase your personalities well," you said, mixing up the punch. Chan nodded, "Our shared bedroom has its spin, but if you really want to know our personalities I suggest a visit to our studio," he said, taking a sip of the punch you made. Puzzles connected in your head, 'They're a couple', you thought.

Minho stood far back behind you, instinctively eyeing the curve of your ass. He tried his hardest to look at something else but he wanted nothing more than to watch your bottom meet his palm. Chan was holding his composure slightly better than Minho, "What were the actual plans for your night?" he asked. You hummed, tasting the punch from the ladle, "Casual night in with shows to binge," you said, deeming the punch sweet enough. 

Chan nodded, feeling the drool pool below his tongue at the sight of your glossy lips, "Self-care is important," he said, bringing the things to a coffee table. You purse your lips, "Yup," you said, knowing damn well you were going to spend the night edging your aching cunt. A deep exhale escaped your lips as you tried to shake the idea away. Minho took a seat next to you, "What movie would you recommend to us?" he asked, subtly reaching his arm over your head. 

You hummed, "Well there was this show I wanted to start," you said, clicking it. Chan smiled, "Good choice, I think I heard it from somewhere," he said, getting comfortable as he took a seat. All was going well until you remembered why this show was infamous. You gripped the glass, staring ahead. Chan shifted, crossing his leg over the other to hide his growing semi. Minho took deep breaths through his nose, shutting his eyes every once in a while to distract himself from the sheer pornographic moans.

A weak whimper escaped your lips, body heated both from the alcohol and the initial neediness you had. Chan gulped, hearing your sweet whimper over the actor's grunts. Your thighs trembled, pleading for any form of pressure to subdue the craving in your abdomen. Minho grunted, turning down the show "Do you want our help?" he rasped, hair tousled from how much he was brushing it back to distract himself. 

You blinked, "Huh?" you questioned, voice barely above a whisper. Minho got on his knees, rubbing your calves, "Do you want us to help you, princess?" he whispered, careful to not make you uncomfortable. You gulped, embarrassment running through your veins at the thought of you being so utterly obvious, "Please?" you questioned, thoughts running through your mind. Chan stroked your hair, "Don't worry, we'll stop the moment you tell us to. Just give us the word and we'll back off," he reassured, patting your shoulder.

Minho nodded, "We just want to help you, sweet thing," he said, letting you rest your palm on the top of his head. You gulped, undeniably horny at the thought of two gorgeously looking men prioritising your consent. Chan hummed, "You can make the first move, little one," he said, tracing circles on your shoulder. You pressed your thighs close, "Kiss?" you asked, turning to face Chan. He chuckled, cupping your cheek, "Close your eyes for me," he instructed, pressing his lips against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling his plush full lips sync with yours. Chan groaned, slipping in his tongue, teasing the roof of your mouth with the tip. Minho grunted a whine, nipping at the fabric of your tights. "Shit, angel. You kiss so sweet," Chan chuckled, pulling back. Low heavy breaths huffed between you, and Chan couldn't help but lick your spit-glossed lip. You shivered a moan, lifting your hips for Minho to tug down your bottoms.

Minho wasted no time to mark your supple skin, nipping and sucking deep bruising bites. Chan cooed at his boyfriend's possessiveness, "Can't leave the kitten to his own devices for too long, princess. Why don't you tighten that grip of yours?" he prompted, kissing down your neck. Your cunt ached to be touched, soaking through those skimpy panties you wore on a whim. You tugged on Minho's roots, bringing his face closer to your warm pussy.

Chan removed his top, defined muscles on sight, "May I?" he asked, brushing his fingers up your top. You nodded, spreading your legs further for Minho to comfortably bury his face against your panties. Chan gripped your waist, pushing the fabric up to show your cute tummy, his thoughts spun at the idea of his cock bulging at that specific spot. "Fuck me," he mumbled, tugging the fabric past your head to admire your body. 

Minho worked his tongue the moment his face was inches from your clothed cunt. Drool pooled his mouth, soaking the panties you wore. He pushed the fabric aside only to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit. You bit back a squeal at the sudden zap of pleasure electrifying your abdomen. Minho moaned, hooking your thighs over his shoulders, "So fucking pretty," he grunted, licking down your slit. You whined, arching your back into his mouth "Ah! ah, ah," you moaned, breathlessly. 

Chan groped your chest, lips sucking around your sensitive nipples, "They're so hard, princess," he groaned, flicking his tongue. Tears pooled in your eyes, pleasure swimming in your head. Minho shifted lower, using his nose to press on your swollen clit as his tongue stretched out your hole. Your back arched at the intrusion, "There, please, please, please," you pleaded, clawing your nails into the sofa below. Minho huffed out a growl, adding his fingers with his tongue.

A silent scream escaped your lips as your orgasm broke over the edge. "Shit, shit, fuckk," you dragged, moaning. Minho licked your orgasm clean, sucking on the entrance of your cunt. Chan pulled off your chest, "I need to see that expression again, princess," he groaned, manhandling your body across the sofa. You moaned at his strength, arms wrapping around his firm thighs, "Chan," you whined, looking up.

Minho groaned at the aches in his knees, "Hyung,  the condom?" he slurred, shaking off the pussy drunk haze. Chan leaned back, grabbing a box, "Here, baby," he said, handing them to Minho. You furrowed your eyebrows, "Fuck, I forgot to ask if you both are clean," you grumbled, the underlying pleasure still clouding your mind. Chan chuckled, brushing your hair back, "We are. I'm guessing you are too?" he asked, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, "Got a test a few weeks back," you said, eyeing Chan's clothed bulge. Chan followed your line of sight, "Ask and you can have it, little one," he said, holding your jaw to face him. You bit back a whine, "Please, Chan. Let me suck your big cock, please," you begged, needing to feel the weight of his throbbing cock on your tongue. Minho moaned at the sight of your curved back, finally able to touch the mounds of your ass, "Sweetheart, this might just kill me," he grunted, slicking his wrapped cock against your folds.

Chan cooed, stripping off his boxers, "Such a sweet little girl," he praised, stroking his cock. You whimpered, slacking your jaw, sticking your tongue out. Minho spread your folds, lining the tip of his cock with your stretched hole, "Relax for me, darling," he whispered, pushing inch by inch into your cunt. You moaned, pressing your cheek against Chan's thigh, "Fuck," you hiccuped, crying at the burning white heat stretching your ribbed walls.

Minho grunted, leaning forward to pant against your shoulder, "She's so fucking tight, hyung," he chuckled, easing his length with gentle strokes for you to get used to. You mewled, urging Chan to shift closer so you could wrap your lips around his throbbing cockhead. Chan cooed, "Aww, don't cry, princess. My cock isn't going anywhere," he said condescendingly, tapping her bottom lip with his leaking slit. You whined, sucking on his sensitive cockhead, melting at the sheer taste of his precum hitting your taste buds.

Chan threw his head back, "That's it, gorgeous," he growled, thrusting his cock firmly. Minho groaned in tandem, dragging his hips to make languid thrusts. He smirked, hitting your ribbed gummy walls "Just look at her fall apart," he grunted, angling his thrusts just the way you needed it. You choked on a sob, bobbing your head to Chan's pace as he held your hair firm. Chan growled, "Uhm, she takes it so fucking well," he praised, feeling the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

Your face slicked with tears and drool, broken moans muffled by Chan's girth filling your mouth. Minho slipped two fingers into his mouth, drenching them in spit before reaching down to rub figure eights’ on your sensitive clit. A muffled cry vibrated through your throat around Chan's cock. He groaned, feeling the air get knocked out of him as your throat convulsed around his cockhead. Your body quivered, teetering at the brink. You sniffled, peeking up at Chan's half-lidded eyes.

Minho noticed, quickening his pace when your warm pulsing walls tightened around his cock, "Is our sweet princess about to cum? Go on and cum for us," he grunted, gripping your waist to lay merciless pounding. Chan felt his knees buckled when you sank your nails into his thighs, "Fuck! Gonna, shit, cum," he growled, thrusting his whole length down your throat. You choked, sputtering around his orgasm, trying your hardest to swallow every last drop.

Chan hissed through his teeth, easing his cock out, "Good girl," he chuckled, pushing back his sweat-drenched hair. Minho nosed your neck, marking your skin, "Please, please, princess. Need to feel you clench around my cock," he rambled, grunting into your ear. You whimper, moans falling freely as your body gave out, abdomen tense when your orgasm broke "Fuck, fuck, ah," you mewled, clenching hard around Minho's girth. 

He choked on a groan, veins on his neck apparent, "Oh fuck," he keened, filling the condom to the brim. Chan chuckled, kissing you to ease down your high, "Such a perfect little girl," he hummed, pampering kisses all over your face. Minho lifted his head, kissing your cheek, "Took my cock perfectly, princess," he praised, shifting to pressing his lips against yours. You weakly mimicked his movement. Chan brushed your hair back, "I've got a warm bath prepared, do you want to wash up now or more kisses?" he asked.

You gave him a fucked out smile, "Kisses, please," you whispered, growing sleepy by the second. Minho grunted, slipping his cock from your warm walls, "Let me help you up, angel," he rasped, lifting you onto his lap. Chan smiled, standing in front of Minho with your back facing his chest, "More kisses, as granted," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you until you're satisfied.