#i enjoyed how messy and chaotic it was

[immobiliter]

there were so many things i loved about that demo, but special shout out to "please boss, put your umbrella away" and the last shot of navia putting her shades on while there are explosions in the bg

[ohbueckers]

EXTRA POINTS. blurb!

pairing, paige bueckers x fem!reader. notes, glasses p fic per request of a few queens… MAMA WORKED AS FAST AS SHE COULD! @thaatdigitaldiary @absolutelydreadful & credits to @justliketoreadsowhat ‘s anon for the detail. warnings, none just fluff? sexual jokes as well because who am i without them, like…

the night air is still pretty warm, the scent of freshly cut grass still tingling your nostrils after the soccer game you attended with paige and her teammates. it had been a long night—filled with cheering, concessions, and paige’s arm constantly draped around your shoulder as she proudly showed you off. she somehow convinced you to tag along, but watching her light up during the game made it worth it.

now, you’re walking back to the dorms, the sound of sneakers and laughter being the only thing heard off the empty sidewalks as the team stalks a few yards in front of the two of you. paige has her hair slicked back into a messy low bun, a few strands falling loose, and her purple glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose. the lenses catch a subtle blue tint from the streetlights, a little detail you can’t stop staring at—honestly, she looks so good, it’s borderline unfair. you never thought purple glasses could be your weakness, but here you are.

“you enjoying the ice cream, or are you too busy staring at me?” paige teases, glancing over with that signature smirk. she knows exactly what she’s doing, making it impossible to look away from her.

“shut up, paige,” you reply with a scoff, although there’s no ruthless intent as you nudge her with your elbow. “i’m just enjoying the quiet now that your fan club’s calmed down.��

“oh, you love it!” she laughs out, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “don’t act like you don’t love watching me be all famous and stuff. plus, you looked cute taking all those pics with me. so i ain’t complainin.’”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile creeping up on your face. paige had been asked for a picture more times than you could count on your hands, and obviously the tiktoks came with that. she’d dragged you into most of it, keeping you close the whole time, making sure everyone knew you were hers. it was chaotic and you were used to it at this point, and you could admit there was something fun about watching her be in her element.

“alright, maybe it was kinda fun,” you say, taking a bite of the spoonful of ice cream she’d held out for you so casually. the cold hits your tongue, and you savor the flavor for a second before narrowing your eyes at her. “but you still owe me.”

paige jerks her head back, grinning and clearly enjoying herself. “owe you? i’m literally spoon-feeding you right now. how do i still owe you?”

you quirk an eyebrow up at her, leaning in a little as you held her gaze, and it was the kind of look that said enough.

she chuckles, leaning back slightly, still holding the spoon in front of you like she’s ready for round two. “aight, fine, i’ll give you that. but let me get you back at home, baby—i got some ideas.” her voice drops a little lower, clearly playing but also half-serious. she may be all jokes, but she definitely knows how to back them up.

before you can even respond, she takes her own spoonful of your ice cream, the nerve, flashing a cheeky grin before planting a wet, playful kiss right on your lips. the cold of the treat and the warmth of her mouth clash, leaving you squealing and half-laughing, trying to push her away. “paige!” you protest, wiping the ice cream from your lips, but there’s no hiding the wide smile breaking out across your face. she’s such a menace sometimes.

as if one cue, everyone seemed to have glanced back at the right time, catching sight of something straight out of a rom-com.

“yo! they really can’t keep their hands off each other.” kk’s voice cuts through.

“really can’t take them nowhere…” aubrey quips.

sarah laughs, chiming in. “oh, we see you, paige! real smooth,” and morgan practically doubles over in laughter beside her.

paige smirks, and you swore she would’ve thrown up those rizz hands if her hands weren’t full. “what can i say?” you smile yourself, shaking your head at her and leaning into the blonde’s side as the banter from behind fades into the background. as much as paige plays around, the way she’s been with you tonight—keeping you close, showing you off, feeding you ice cream like it’s the most natural thing in the world—it’s those little moments that make it so easy to fall for her. every laugh, every teasing smile, even the way she annoys you, it’s like she knows exactly how to keep your guard down. and honestly, you don’t mind one bit.

“you know, you didn’t have to buy me ice cream,” you say softly, looking up at her.

“nah, i did,” paige replies, her voice gentle. “had to make sure my girl knows i take care of her. plus,” she smirks again, looking away like she’s cooking up some mischievous ass reply. “i’m tryna’ score some extra points for later.”

you laugh, shoving her off of you yet she barely flinches. “yeah, okay, keep dreaming.”

paige pulls you even closer, kissing the side of your head as your arms fall to your sides. she murmurs, “dreaming? nah, i’m ms. make it happen.”

[jjenthusee]

Safe House

Pairing: Red Hood x Reader

A/N: I love the idea of being afraid of Red Hood, but at the same time sharing only one brain cell with him lol ENJOY :) comment, reblog, and like if u can <3

check out pt. 2 here!

Summary: The Red Hood took you back to his safe house, as a hostage? a witness? Doesn’t matter when you can’t help but snoop around the vigilante’s safe house.

Tags: unhinged Jason, annoying that muscular man would be my love language, chaotic duo, banter, another part if u all want one??

Word Count: 706

If someone told you that you would spend your evening sweeping the floor of Red Hood’s safe house, you would not be expecting to be ten dollars richer, but you stood there, diligently sweeping the entire box of loose-leaf tea that you accidentally dropped while snooping around.

Dark tea was scattered across the old, but clean floorboards. You grimaced at the thought of tiny tea leaves permanently stuck in the crevices of the wooden floor.

You figured that when you are a leading crime lord, you constantly deal with too many unknown bodily fluids and pick up a few award-winning cleaning habits.

What’s worse is that you clumsily dirtied that leading crime lord’s current home.

“I’m so dead.” You stared wide eyed at the mess you created.

After sweeping together a neat pile, you went back to the small storage closet you found to grab the dustpan. It paid off to snoop because you found Red Hood’s broom and hopefully could clean everything before he came back.

All his supplies were neatly arranged with a proper place for all of his cleaning products. Broom and mop hung on the wall, shelves organized by the type of disinfectant, towels and rags neatly folded.

It was scarily neat.

“Maybe I can offer a lifelong employment as a maid?” You somberly laughed to yourself, almost in a craze that you were on the verge of panicking and laughing hysterically.

As you murmured to yourself, you spotted some sprinkles of tea that escaped you.

“I just don’t want a bullet hole between my eyes.” You sighed.

You located the dustpan hanging where you grabbed the broom earlier, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the gun mounted to the edge of the shelf with the disinfectant sprays.

“I’m so screwed.” You told yourself.

“Yeah you are.” A voice boomed behind you.

You threw the dustpan in your hand at the direction of the voice, in your frightened state you didn’t even bother aiming and the plastic dustpan flew past Red Hood’s side.

You stepped back into the closet as you panicked, hearing numerous bottles fall behind you. One by one crashing into another as a final bottle rolled to your shoe.

Your face scrunched at the clear mess you couldn’t see but heard.

“Red! Hey, oh wow, you’re back. I missed you, really, I stayed just like you said—“

“I said to stay over there.” He lazily nodded in the direction of a lonely wooden chair in the corner facing the wall.

“Are you kidding me? I look like I’m a toddler in time out if I sit over there.” You were in disbelief.

“You are.” He looked at the mess you made behind you and the small pieces of tea still spread out on the floor.

A modulated sigh voiced out his helmet.

You were so dead.

“Move.” Red nudged you aside, making his way to the doorway of the storage closet. “How did you make such a mess?”

You saw him bend down, picking up bottles and reorganizing the messy shelves. You curiously looked over his shoulder when you noticed he stopped, he reached for something out of your view.

You froze, remembering the mounted gun.

Your heart started to race as your eyes nervously glanced his way. Then, like you were in slow motion, you watched Red slowly stand up, towering over you as you could only watch the back of his shoulders straighten.

He turned, so slowly you wanted to scream.

“Don’t shoot me!” You yelled, covering your hands over your head in a lame attempt to somehow protect yourself from a bullet.

“You idiot, I’m giving you a dust brush!” Red held out the brush in his hand, no weapon in sight.

“Oh.” You moved your hands back down.

“Now sweep up the shit you spilled. You threw the dustpan earlier so find it.” Red spoke in annoyance.

“Dammit.” You sighed.

“Do I need to remind you that this is your mess?”

“Fine, fine. Don’t get your helmet in a twist.” You grabbed the dust brush, trying not to give the Red Hood one last side eye. You failed. “Stupid tin can.”

“I don’t hear you cleaning!” Jason yelled over his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

[blackenedsnow]

I have never requested before I hope I'm doing this right. You can feel free to ignore this.

But can I have Billy and stu (separate or together is your choice), Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers (original or Rz are your choice), Jason Voorhees, Norman Bates, and Billy Lenz. You don't have to do all. I don't really care who or how much you do. But them with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling. Kinds like the oldest sibling being a parent of their younger sibling

You can choose the age and gender but I would prefer a male and 4 year old kid but it doesn't matter. I just haven't really seen much of this and would really like more. I love your writing btw. Again you don't really have to do this and I feel like this request is long but just wanted to write it

slashers with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader, Bubba Sawyer x Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Norman Bates x Reader, Billy Lenz x Reader

NOTE: I’m so glad you love my writing! Your request is perfect, and I really enjoyed putting this together for you. Hope you enjoy!

BILLY LOOMIS

At first, Billy's not sure what to think.

Kids are loud and messy, not really his thing, but he’s intrigued by how seriously you take your role as a caretaker.

He gets protective over both you and your little sibling in his own way.

He doesn’t interact with the child much but will keep an eye on them, especially if things seem off.

Billy admires your strength and responsibility

He didn’t grow up in the best family environment, so seeing you take on that parental role makes him respect you even more.

If you ever need help with your sibling, he’s reluctant but won’t say no.

He’ll watch over your little sibling in his way—just don’t expect him to read bedtime stories.

STU MACHER

Stu doesn't really care for kids, but your little sibling is an exception.

He’s the chaotic big brother type, always joking around, making silly faces, and playing rough

...in a way your sibling enjoys.

He’s surprisingly great at distracting your sibling when you need a break, even if it involves a bit too much sugar or wild games.

Stu admires how you handle your responsibilities, but he’s also the type to encourage you to let loose and have fun with your little sibling.

He'll say something like

"Being a big sibling can be fun too, y'know!"

Sometimes, he’ll get your sibling involved in harmless pranks—nothing too serious, just enough to make you roll your eyes at the bullshit.

BUBBA SAWYER

Bubba has a natural, gentle side that shows around your little sibling.

He’s great with kids because of his own childlike nature and will immediately want to help you out with your sibling.

He’s protective but in a soft, nurturing way.

He’ll help with basic care—making sure your sibling eats, plays safely, and feels comfortable.

Watching you care for your sibling touches something deep in Bubba.

Family is everything to him, and seeing you take on that role makes him feel connected to you on a more emotional level.

Your little sibling will probably love Bubba’s playful, kind-hearted nature, and they’d get along well

Almost like having a second big sibling!

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas is awkward around your little sibling at first.

He’s not used to kids, and his intimidating presence might scare the child a bit.

Once you show him how to be gentle, though, Thomas is (not surprisingly) good at it.

He’s careful and protective, and though he’s not talkative, his actions speak volumes.

He respects your role as the older sibling and quietly supports you in whatever way he can.

He’ll help carry your sibling, fix things for them, and even craft toys if necessary.

Thomas feels a sense of admiration for how you juggle being a caregiver.

It reminds him of the family dynamic he grew up in, where responsibility was a big part of survival.

MICHAEL MYERS

Michael is eerily silent around your little sibling, but he watches the way you care for them with curiosity.

He doesn’t fully understand the concept of caring for someone, but he’s fascinated by your commitment.

He won’t actively interact with your sibling, and in some strange way, he becomes protective of both you and the child

Like he’s observing a small piece of humanity that he’s long forgotten.

Michael doesn’t interact much with your sibling, but if anyone or anything threatens them, Michael steps in without hesitation.

He’s drawn to your strength as an older sibling.

It doesn’t make him soft, but it earns you a twisted sense of respect in his mind.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason has a soft spot for children due to his own troubled childhood.

When he sees how much you care for your little sibling, it stirs something in him.

He’s fiercely protective, acting as a silent guardian over both you and your sibling.

He doesn’t speak, but his presence is always there, watching to make sure nothing bad happens.

Your little sibling isn’t scared of Jason for long.

Once they see how Jason watches over you, they warm up to him.

Jason might even offer small gestures of kindness, like finding things in the woods for your sibling to play with.

Jason admires your strength and responsibility, seeing you as a protector like himself.

It forms a quiet bond between the three of you.

NORMAN BATES

Norman is gentle and polite around your little sibling, offering to help with anything that might make things easier for you.

He’s fascinated by the idea of family dynamics and your role as both sibling and parental figure.

It reminds him of his relationship with his own mother, in a twisted way.

Norman tries to make things comfortable for your sibling, offering snacks or games to keep them occupied.

He’s surprisingly good at calming your sibling down during tantrums.

However, there’s always a sense of unease around Norman.

His overprotectiveness can feel stifling at times, especially when he becomes too involved in your sibling’s care, as though he sees you as part of his own family.

BILLY LENZ

Billy is unpredictable, and your little sibling might be a bit nervous around him at first.

Billy has strange behavior, but he never intentionally tries to scare your sibling.

He doesn’t understand kids well, but once he realizes how important your sibling is to you, Billy makes an effort to be less creepy around then.

There’s a strange protectiveness that comes over Billy when he sees you caring for your sibling.

It’s almost like he’s trying to impress you by not being chaotic around the child.

He’ll watch your little sibling from a distance, occasionally making weird, quiet noises, but he’ll stay back unless you need help.

If anyone threatens you or your sibling, though, Billy’s unpredictable nature can quickly become dangerous.

[808airsoftbros]

My Scary Noona (Kim Gaeul) (BXG) (S)

Author: A requested oneshot by an anonymous user, if you are reading this I hope you enjoy it, and if you all want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

"I swear to God Yujin and Wonyoung, your guy's room is always a mess!"

Hearing my Noona, Gaeul once again yelling at her members for having a messy room and Yujin and Wonyoung pouted trying to act cute to get out of their predicament.

But if I know Gaeul no tricks are going to work on her as she's the oldest and made them clean up. Of course, Yujin and Wonyoung reluctantly did so as we all knew not to mess with her.

Even if Gaeul isn't the leader of IVE, she is still someone you don't want to cross with and she'll make your life a living hell.

Meanwhile, I was in my room playing Helldivers 2, wearing noise-canceling headphones, I didn't hear much of the commotion outside until I smelled that same autumn perfume that Gaeul always wears.

The scent was strong like it was being held right at my nose and when I turned around I saw Gaeul right behind my chair and I gulped.

"Y-Yes, Noona...?" I gulped.

"You, you and I are going on a date, you're not busy right..?" Gaeul asked and I shook my head.

"No... Well maybe..." I chuckled nervously and she rolled her eyes.

"And what exactly is keeping you busy today? Sitting your lazy ass playing video games?" She sarcastically asked.

Without saying anymore, Gaeul tossed me clothes for me to wear, and ordered me to get dressed and meet her outside. I sighed seeing that my video game sessions ended so soon.

After I finished changing into the clothes that Gaeul gave me which was a pair of Addidas sweatpants and jacket, I wear a Vans black shirt and all complimented by Addidas shoes.

Coming out of my room, Gaeul gave me a small grin before taking my arm leading me out of the dorm.

"Will be out all-day girls, you all better not make a mess!" Gaeul announced and the girls nodded.

"Of course, Unnie... You won't have to worry about a thing..." Yujin casually says while on her phone.

"You better keep your word," Gaeul warned and we left the dorm.

Walking hand in hand out of the dorm into the cool autumn breeze, Gaeul took a deep breath and sighed relaxing herself after constantly yelling bossing around her members all-day.

"Noona, do you always have to be this strict?" I curiously asked and she huffed.

"Well, someone has to keep things in order, and besides you know how chaotic those girls can get right?" Gaeul pointed out and sighed knowing she was right.

"Yeah, I cannot lie, they do get crazy sometimes... Even for my own liking," I answered and she grinned.

"Aren't you lucky you have a girlfriend like me to handle them~? Otherwise, you'd go mad," She cheekily said and I chuckled.

Afterward, Gaeul walked me into her favorite ramen shop, the waiter guided us to our table and left us alone to decide what to eat on the menu.

Gaeul took her time looking over the specials and then at me with a small warm smile the same look when she knows exactly what I'm going to get. Though I do sometimes doubt that...

"Let me guess... The shoyu ramen?" Gaeul guessed and I was baffled at how she knew what I was getting and once again proving me wrong.

"How do you always know, Noona...?" I asked confused and she giggled.

"Because you always get the same thing every time, it doesn't take a detective to figure that out don't you think? Perhaps try something new for a change," She suggested and I sighed.

Gaeul knew I was quite a picky eater, it's always been like that since childhood which gave my family a headache trying to get me to try foods that I may or may not like.

Although I always hesitated food from my parents, Gaeul is the opposite case not because she's scary or threatens to shove it down my throat but because I was less reluctant and open because of her warm and caring personality.

Unlike others who only saw me as a failure, weak, and stupid because of my health and mental disorder, Gaeul was the only friend I have who truly saw me as who I am and accepted me nonetheless.

Sure Gaeul may scold me from time to time but I eventually learned that it was for my own good and I have a lot more to learn about relationships even if we've been together for a few years now.

"Well, well, I can't believe my eyes... It's the weird kid..." I heard a familiar voice I hope to never hear again.

Looking up I sighed to see Jackson and his gang walking up towards us, they're all idols like Gaeul, and she too was surprised to see them.

"Jackson? What are you doing here?" Gaeul asked raising an eyebrow.

"Darling, why else would we be here? We came to grab some food is all. What are you doing with him?" He asked and Gaeul rolled her eyes.

"Jackson, this is my boyfriend Kim Y/N, we were on a date and we would appreciate if you didn't interrupt our quality time together," Gaeul answered and he seemed surprised before laughing his ass off.

"Boyfriend? Are you serious? You're a famous idol like us and this guy is who you choose? I mean come on you're better off dating some rookie guy from a shitty company instead of him, don't you think?" Jackson asked with a hint of mockery and I looked down not daring to look at him.

Gaeul on the other hand was furious about his words and immediately stood up before him almost as if she was ready to fight him as her fists was closed tightly.

"Take. That. Back." Gaeul warned coldly glaring at him but Jackson only sneered.

"Or else what? He's worth nothing and you are stooping so low dating him," Jackson replied and Gaeul scoffed.

"Oh please, that's quite rich, you always think you're so high and mighty because you walk over people to get on top, you always exploit, bully, and extort everyone to make yourself feel like the king of the world, but no, it's pathetic. Just admit it, Jackson, you're nothing but a goddamn coward," Gaeul coldly spoke to his face and he was livid.

"You fucking bitch! You dare speak to me like that to your senior?! Did you ever learn respect for people like us?!" Jackson angrily asked gripping Gaeul's collar tightly shooting her a deathly glare but she wasn't fazed one bit.

"Oh, I do... But you're not worthy of my respect unless you apologize to my boyfriend and recognize putting down others only makes you a weaker man," Gaeul retorted and Jackson lost it.

Jackson's anger took over him as he raised his fist to deliver a punching blow but he froze a painful sensation was felt in his groin from Gaeul kicking his balls causing him to let go of her collar as he groaned in pain.

Gaeul didn't even give him time to react, she grabbed his shoulders before delivering a cross punch to his jaw knocking him on the floor.

"Get up," Gaeul sternly demanded.

Jackson limply got back on his feet but it wasn't for long as Gaeul delivered a heavy front kick to his face knocking him down and she scoffed almost pitying how weak he was.

"Get up," Gaeul demanded once more.

Jackson's friend stood back not daring to intervene, Jackson tried to get up but it was harder as his body was sore and devastated from Gaeul's punches and kicks to his face and groin. Again without warning Gaeul slapped so hard that everyone in the restaurant heard it and he crashed into the wall and fell down groaning in pain.

"Not so fun when you're the one that's helpess, isn't it?" Gaeul asked sternly.

"Y-Your fucking insane..." Jackson weakly said and catches his breath.

"Well, that's what happens when you mess with one's boyfriend, I'll let you go but mess with my boyfriend again and I won't be so merciful and I'll do everything in my power to ensure you suffer for all of eternity, got it?" Gaeul warned and Jackson looked down in defeat.

"I understand..." He weakly groaned.

"Good, now you roaches get out of my sight!" Gaeul ordered pointing at the door and the boy quickly ran out of the restaurant.

Letting out a huff trying to calm herself down, she walked back to the table and sat down in front of me as the waiter comes back to take our orders.

I ordered my usual while Gaeul ordered the special spicy beef ramen, the waiter writes it down and leaves us for now. Shortly after, the waiters returned with our ramen orders.

Trying the new shoyu ramen recipe was absolutely immaculate despite the major change proving that not all changes in my picky habits are necessarily a bad thing to occur.

After we finished eating, we head back to the dorm to see the girls mostly asleep with Leeseo hugging Rei and Wonyoung and Yujin cuddling one another.

"Aww~. How adorable is that darling? But you know that means... right?" She whispered into my ear sending shivers down my spine knowing exactly what she means.

"Are you sure, Noona?" I nervously asked keeping my voice down to not disrupt their slumber.

"Do you know how long I've been craving you~? I haven't gotten your juicy cock inside of me for weeks... And I want it now," She seductively purred.

Without wasting time, Gaeul dragged me into my room closing the door before locking it, she shoved me into the bed and crawled towards me like a hungry tigress about to devour her prey.

The look in her eyes would make any man shit his pants as there was no escape for me as Gaeul cornered me on all sides as she pinned me down with her strong grip.

"Hmm... Where to start first~? So many ways~," She wondered as she licked her lips thinking of all the unholy things to do with me.

Taking some time to ponder on her first move, she smirked before going to my ear, her lips just inches from my neck as she nippled my earlobe a bit sending jolts of excitement and nervousness.

"Why don't you be a dear and take off my clothes~," She whispered and I nodded.

Sitting up I reached my hands on the straps of her dress pulling them aside and slowly pushing it down revealing her black laced bra and panties barely covering her assets.

"You like what you see don't you~? My body is just perfect for you baby~," She said in a husky tone and she bit her lip as she began working on my pants to free my erection.

Gaeul slides my pants off along with my boxers revealing my 9 inch dick making her lick her lips and biting it as this size was more than perfect for her.

"God, the words cannot describe how much I miss having your cock inside of me..." She muttered as she went down taking my length into my mouth.

Feeling her warm mouth and tongue swirling on my cock felt so amazing as always, Gaeul always knew all the buttons to push on me, and in turn, I'd pound the shit out of her.

Gaeul began bobbing her head faster and faster making me moan as I grab her hair as she began deepthroating me and soon enough I was reaching my limit but she wasn't stopping.

"Fuck... Noona I'm going to cum..." I warned and Gaeul took my cock out of her mouth before opening it wide sticking her tongue out as she used her hand to finish me off.

Almost instantly, I shot my line of cum onto her face most of it ending up on her tongue and she purred as she licked the cum off her lips and fingers.

"Mmm~. Thank you for the meal baby but now it's your turn~," She spoke in a commanding tone as she gestured me to take off her undergarments.

Obeying her commands like a good boy, I unclip her bra revealing her perky and luscious boobs, and slid off her panties revealing her perfect shaved womanhood.

Diving into her pussy I began eating her out making her moan my name as she wrapped her thighs around my head pushing herself onto my face more.

"Fuck baby~. Such a good fucking boy eating mommy out~! Keep this up and Mommy will treat you~," Gaeul wickedly grinned as she kept moaning as I eat her out.

Inserting my tongue inside of her not getting enough of her tasty juices she moaned louder as I began hitting her g-spot with my tongue and I feel her walls tightening.

"Shit baby~! I'm going cum and you better not waste a single drop..." She warned and she squirted all in my mouth despite her strong thighs tightly wrapped around my skull.

When Gaeul unwrapped her thighs she opened my mouth making sure I swallowed every drop of her juices and she smiled wickedly.

"Good boy, you didn't waste a drop and mommy is very proud of you~. Now it's time for your treat~," She praised.

She went on all fours displaying her firm and rounded ass to me and her glistening pussy and teasingly twerks inviting me to take her.

I didn't waste any time getting up aligning my cock to her pussy and slamming inside making her yelp as she didn't expect me to enter so abruptly but she didn't seem not to like it one bit but rather the opposite.

"Shit baby! You want me so badly don't you~?" She teasingly asked and without hesitation, I began fiercely pounding her pussy giving her my answer.

Gaeul moaned loudly as she gripped the sheets of the bed tightly as I rammed her like an angry bull and took out all my sexual desires and love on her.

The tightness of her pussy of my cock and the feeling was heavenly and I went all out to ensure Gaeul is pleased and happy with me.

"Fuck! Fuck! Just like that!" She screamed as I began hitting her g-spot with my cock nearly penetrating her.

Picking up the pace, I grabbed her ass as support as I pounded her faster and deeper making Gaeul nearly scream in ecstasy and slightly worry if I was going to finish too fast.

But I managed to hold my ground as I knew this was all out of love and our desires of one another, Gaeul was the only woman I'd ever want to share this rough lovemaking with.

Time was lost in our minds and before we knew it, we were both getting to our edge.

"I'm so close baby~!" Gaeul yelped.

"Me too... I don't know if I can hold it much longer!" I replied as I continued pounding her.

"Do it! Don't hold back! Let's do it together!" She demanded and I came deep inside of her as Gaeul squirted all over my cock.

After the massive orgasm we collapse onto the bed exhausted and sweaty from our passionate lovemaking. Gaeul gave a weak smile as she was catching her breath.

"That was amazing, baby... Better than I can imagine..." She whispered as she caressed my cheek.

"Y-Yeah, it was because of you... I'm the luckiest man to ever be with you," I replied as I hugged her pressing my face against her boobs and she giggled.

"No, honey, I'm the one who is lucky to have such a cute boyfriend and I can never ask for a better partner," She replied and sighed contently as she began playing with the strands of my hair.

"I love you, Noona..."

"I love you too, baby..."

[pearlymel]

A Dragon and his Muse— Neuvillette

SUMMERY : As days turn to weeks, a wordless routine develops. You arrive, set up your workplace, then you lose yourself in your art. Neuvillette takes his usual seat, sometimes pretending to work but secretly admires at your creations.

WC : 8.5k

WARNINGS : Neuvillette x afab!reader, reader is a painter, fluff, smut, crack, a sprinkle of angst, love at first sight (?), inexperienced Neuvi, NSFW mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, premature ejaculation.

NOTES : this is one of my favourite piece out of everything I've written, probably because neuvi is my main and he's very sweet <3. I wish it was more slowburn but i suck at thoseI hope you enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it.

His office is too quiet. His mind is too loud. Too messy.

Everything seemed just not in place, it was the constant overwork and less appreciation, not that he’s really complaining. But it was taking a toll on his energy nowadays.

Constantly for 400 years.

A thud on the glassy window wasn’t enough to grab his attention, but once the noise continued, he finally turned his attention away from the papers

Ah, it was a bird. Knocking on the window using it’s beak.

oh dear, it’s friend joined, but rather than knocking on the window, it flew straight into the glass and fell down.

Neuvillette stood up slowly from his stiff cushioned chair, walking towards the large window, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room.

Upon reaching the window, he gazed contemplatively down, lost in thought, his gaze was drawn once more to the two birds. The first bird, still pecking at the glass with a persistent curiosity, seemed undeterred by its previous failure to gain entry. The second bird, now recovered from its fall, fluttered its wings and joined its companion, pecking at the window with renewed vigor. There was something almost endearing about their determination, a small yet poignant reminder of persistence and companionship.

He reached out to open the window, so they can fly away. This place isn’t suitable for them after all.

His eyes fell to a certain melusine, unmoving. Just like a statue.

And there you where, someone he didn’t recognize, he noticed how your hands were covered in all sorts of paints and stains. Your hair had random streaks here and there, and the look on your face… you were enjoying yourself, despite looking a bit serious.

Hm, he tilted his head and continued to watch you paint the melusine, it was a bit relaxing to say the least, though he couldn’t help but observe your features more and the way you dressed up.

You definitely weren’t from Fontaine.

Perhaps… a tourist? He thought then leaned against the edge of the window, crossing his arms.

He was too lost in thought that he didn’t notice the paint on your fingers that are now on your face. A smudge of dark blue paint right under your eye.

The dear melusine abruptly stood up from the wooden stool chair, and it’s like she was able to read Neuvillette’s thoughts, she gestured you to bend down so she could wipe the stain off your under eye.

You both laugh, a sound that seemed to break the tranquility of the room in the most gentle way, although not quite audible from above, it was calming to hear such noise. Neuvillette observed this interaction with a faint smile, feeling a strange sense of warmth in his chest. It had been a long time since something so simple had brought such a calm feeling to his chaotic mind.

This is embarrassing…

With a shake of his head, he took one last glance down then returned back to work, where he unfortunately belonged.

—

he doesn’t even know why he’s standing by the window again, it’s been days since he admired, observed you painting.

One day it would be the nature, the next another melusine, then a random couple or a best friends.

But you weren’t there today like he expected you to be, it’s has only been a week since he was watching you, did you already leave Fontaine?

He sighed, he knew it wouldn’t be forever to watch some random stranger have fun with the colors, but he was a tad bit disappointed to find you gone so soon.

And now be finds himself in lyney and lynette’s magic show, sitting with the crowd on the front row, hands resting politely on his lap while he waited for the preparations and people to join in.

“I’m so sorry,” he hears a voice from behind him, followed by a gentle thud, the person most likely apologizing for bumping into somebody, he doesn’t pay much mind to it to turn around.

This person walks through the narrow row, carefully stepping past other seated passengers, muttering quiet ‘excuse me’s’ with each step. They finally reach his row and, with a polite nod, maneuver past him, their bag brushing lightly against his arm. After what feels like an eternity, they let out a long sigh of relief as they settle into the seat next to him, adjusting their belongings and making themselves comfortable.

Today is crowded, he thought, glancing around the packed space.

He blinked in surprise when there were fire poles starting at the stage, everyone clapping and gasping in excitement. A laugh emitting from next to him, followed by the rapid claps of their hands.

The laughter rings in his ears, it was almost familiar, listening to it in the air… relaxing as the colors splash—

Oh,

Oh.

Neuvillette is too afraid to even look to confirm it was you, sitting next to him all along. He was frozen in place, gloved hands gently clenching on his thighs as he kept his eyes glued to the stage.

Wait, why would he even be nervous? Maybe it was odd because he kind of knows you in a sense, but you don’t.

He finally got the courage to glance at your way, trying to be as discreet as possible. And there you were, the same paint-stained fingers now clutching your bag, probably full of brushes, eyes wide with wonder at the magic unfolding on stage. You turned slightly, catching his gaze for a brief moment, and he felt like he was caught in his act, both of you awkwardly staring at each other for a good five seconds before you awkwardly speak.

“It’s like a cinema,” you utter out to him, and he’s bewildered. A… cinema?

You both then awkwardly adjust back to your seats, continuing to watch the magic unfold like nothing ever happened.

Maybe he should’ve said something instead of leaving you hanging like that.

At the end of the magnificent show, the crowd claps in sync, and Neuvillette notices how your eyes shined in awe at the twins bowing down.

“Your first time?” Neuvillette decides to speak this team with a lot of thinking through.

“yes.” You nod, “I've never seen something like this…”

And he hums, observing how you were excited over this little thing he sees occasionally. Was it that rare?

“I feel like it is rude to be speaking to you without letting you know of my name,” he clears his throat, “I am Neuvillette.”

Such a unique name, you think. “I'm…” you say your name out firmly, “I'm a painter or an artist.”

“i know.”

You raise both of your eyebrows in shock, have you gotten famous already?

Upon seeing your expression, Neuvillette's eyes widen slightly in horror, it now sounds like he was some sort of stalker watching your every movement.

“What i meant is that.. that I've seen you paint.” he clarifies quickly, keeping his voice smooth and composed.

Seems like you've really earned yourself a medal.

“It's nice meeting you, Neuvillette. But i have to go…” plus you suck at small talks, so this was a good excuse.

“right, my apologies. Be careful on your way out.”

Neuvillette feels… odd, to say the least as he watches you leave in a hurry with your bag slinging over your shoulder.

You seem interesting, like a new breath of fresh air, and he wanted to know more about you. Anything to talk to you more to ease the unfamiliar fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Alas, he doesn't have time to make new friends, he'll only have to hope to bump into you next time.

—

Another broken quill.

Neuvillette watches as the ink runs down on the paper, completely ruining it, and he sighs to himself.

The weather is awful today, the rain just continues to pour down because of today's trial. What even is justice anymore?

He pushes himself out of his chair, maybe watching you paint will ease the amount of work—

But all he's met with is the harsh rain, remembering that obviously you wouldn't paint in such weather.

I ruined their day, Neuvillette thinks. And it only causes another frown to appear on his face, although the frown leaves as quickly as it came when he narrowed his eyes outside the window, watching a figure sitting under the building, seemingly waiting for the rain to pass.

Upon the realization it was you, Neuvillette doesn't hesitate for a moment. Without a second thought, he leaves his office with quick movement, the rain is still falling heavily, but he doesn't care. All that matters to him is reaching you.

There you were, sitting unbothered right outside, your legs stretched on the concrete with a notebook on your lap.

“You…” it was the first thing he managed to utter, and yet it was enough to catch your attention. “Oh, it's you.” You smile at him, standing up while dusting the dirt off you.

He should've told you to stay seated, to not bother you.

“I'm sorry about our last encounter, i didn't know you were the Chief Justice of Fontaine.” You quickly say out, your hands behind your back and your head lowered.

“No apology is needed.” He tries to reassure you, “I am more concerned about your well being. The weather is inconvenient for your art.” And the slightest frown appears on his face again, but you surprisingly don't seem as sad as he was. “When the sun comes and the rain stops, the prettiest rainbow and sight touches the sky. And it's worth waiting for—besides, I'm not bothered by it at all.”

Neuvillette only stares down at you when silence follows after, he feels reassured back that the rain, caused by his emotions, didn't make you upset.

And you notice, the way his shoulders seem to relax, his eyelids no longer weary, showing the slightest softness to it, and the downward curl of his lips disappearing in a matter of seconds.

The rain.

“Oh,” you watch as the rain starts to slowly stop, leaving only a few patters and drops of the earthy scent lingering in the air. “The rain stopped.” You seem more cheerful, he noted. You sat back down on the concrete, watching the sky brighten once again.

It's been a while since Neuvillette had seen something so simple and pure. And he would like to join you this time as you talk about your love for colours.

“I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask someone like the Iudex to sit with me,”

“… i would love to join you. But please, just address me by my name.”

—

Today's sight was different, it was more colourful, more cheerful, was he the only one who was cooped up in his office while missing out the fun?

Neuvillette looks around, left and right, there are melusine's with colours and drawings adoring their faces, adding a bit or—more personality to each Melusine.

Even children and adults.

"Good morning, Sedene," he talks to the melusine right outside the door of his office, his eyes lingering on the butterfly painted on her cheek.

"May I ask what the face paints are for?" he inquires, his curiosity piqued by the unusual sight. “It's from the artist, Monsieur. One person asked for their face painted, so everyone wanted one.” She responds instantly, pointing at the drawing on her cheek. Neuvillette's eyebrows raise in surprise at Sedene's revelation. It seems your artistic skills continues leaving a lasting impression on everyone.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he processes this piece of information. "I see," he murmurs, his curiosity only growing stronger. "And where might they be at?”

Sedene hums, turning around to point outside, “they should be right outside.” his gaze flicks to the entrance. So you're nearby, and he can't deny the flutter of anticipation he feels at the thought of seeing you again.

He clears his throat, "thank you, Sedene," he says before nodding in farewell and making his way towards the entrance.

There you are. Giggling while talking to each one in a soft matter, and the Iudex can't help but be mesmerized by the way you work, the concentration and care you pour into every brushstroke.

The sight of you amidst the children and melusines, their faces adorned with vibrant colors, is both heartwarming and intriguing.

“Monsieur!” Neuvillette visibly freezes when you call out for him, and he glances at you, your hand waving for him in the air.

He must've been too occupied admiring your work.

His legs seem to lead the way towards you on command, watching how your smile only brightened, “take a break, want me to paint your face? Or maybe your hand?” You ask, gesturing him to sit on the stool infront of you, and the others giggle.

“i suppose I can't say no…” he replies softly, taking the glove off his left hand to stretch out for you.

“and what symbol would you like?”

“a water droplet, perhaps?”

You begin almost right away, taking some blue and white paint, blue for the colour of the droplet, and white for the shiny details.

Your hand envelopes around his, and while it's a normal gesture, it doesn't stop Neuvillette to make him have weird feelings stirring in him, how your fingers brush against his skin, he notices that. Or when you squeeze his hand unintentionally to focus perfecting the shape, he also feels that.

“you have nice hands, Neuvillette.” You whisper while now adding some white highlights, and this time, he squeezes your hand unintentionally. “Thank you.” He manages to say something back to your compliment.

Just a normal compliment, nothing to overthinking about.

“All done.” The warmth of your hand leaves his, and he raises his hand infront of him to look over at the final finish.

A symbol that represents his love for water, he couldn't be more satisfied with it.

“I will see you next time.” You wave once again at him before tending to your other ‘clients’.

Next time, it's like you're also wishing to see him again.

That day, Neuvillette tried not to wash off the symbol on his hand, wanting to keep it on for as long as possible.

And now, here you both are again, about the next day.

Neuvillette listens intently as you talk to him over a cup of tea, his eyes fixed on your face as he absorbs the details of your story. The mention of your journey from one nation to another makes him sit up a bit straighter, his curiosity piqued.

"Indeed, that sounds like quite the long and eventful journey," he muses out loud, "But to uproot your life and come a lomg way here, it's quite a bold move.”

You take a long sip from your tea cup, “how so?”

"Well," he begins, "it takes a certain amount of courage and determination to leave everything behind and embark on such a journey. It's a significant change and a leap into the unknown, which most people tend to shy away from.”

To be fair, it was your first time travelling out of your nation, you never intended to visit Fontaine first, but you heard about the lovely views this nation has.

"I understand, for me... I just needed to see the other nation's aesthetic and culture. So I won't be staying here forever."

Won't stay. That's all Neuvillette heard that came out from you, "Ah," he whispers, his voice stiff, "I see. So you don't plan on staying in Fontaine permanently, then?”

You shake your head, "Oh no, i plan to stay for a certain time before visiting another nation... Maybe sumeru next.." you continue talking, not noticing how stiff the Iudex has gotten, mindlessly speaking and spouting about your next travel. Each word out of your mouth about your future travels and eventual departure from Fontaine causes a hint of disappointment to grow in Neuvillette's chest. He listens in silence, his expression growing more sullen with each passing moment.

He had grown accustomed to your presence, enjoying your cheerful banter and easy conversation. The realization that you don't plan on staying in Fontaine for good is a bitter pill to swallow.

—

“Monsieur, you have a gift.”

Neuvillette remembers Sedene delivering a vase filled with white flowers earlier, she says it's a gift from you.

And until now, hes continues glancing at the vase sitting on his desk while he handles some papers. The question was, what was your intention behind this beautiful gift? Or was he perhaps overthinking the whole situation? Maybe you just gave it because it has art or some meaning behind it… sure, he could think of that.

But he wants to think that you gave it because of something more, because your heart raced everytime you both talked, or how his whole mood would change when he hears you laugh as he makes a silly joke to try and be light-hearted.

Poor Neuvillette, he doesn't understand these feelings that he felt for you, he thinks he's being a creep with you.

What if you weren't comfortable in his presence? He doesn't know, he wants to understand, understand these human emotions he was feeling deep in his heart.

He feels hot from overthinking, even though the weather is good enough to walk around without sweating, his hands clench against the sides of the tables.

He can't concentrate.

Neuvillette calls for the melusine again, informing her that no one is allowed to enter his office for the next three days.

—

“he's sick?” Your frown deepens when Sedene explains to you to why she barricaded your way from entering the Iudex’s office.

“Monsieur Neuvillette told me not to let anyone enter for the next three days.” Sedene says cautiously and you both just stare at eachother. “What if he needs medicine?”

“he insists he doesn't.”

“Being sick isn't good, what if he's unconscious right now?”

“oh no, don't worry.” Sedene smiles to try and reassure you, and your shoulders slump in defeat. “… can you send him this instead then?” You hand her a paper bag filled with different desserts you both agreed to try—for a break.

“Right away.” She takes the paper bag and skips her way through her desk to put it on the back.

You're so evil for this, but you're determined.

You hurriedly and quietly make your way inside his office while she was distracted, and when she peeked her head up to see you gone, she just shrugged it off, thinking you left already.

You don't move further when you see his head resting on top of his desk, his hair splayed out messily and his arms under his forehead.

You're concerned, just how could anyone leave the chief of justice to suffer all alone when he's done so much? It didn't make sense.

You don't mean to startle him when you were by his side, your fingers brushing over the burning skin to check his temperature and your eyebrows furrow.

But your wrist were suddenly being grabbed by him, and you gasp. His eyes half-lidded when he starts examining your wrist, still unaware that it was you in this very room with him.

When Neuvillette takes in your scent that seems to linger on your skin, his eyes snap up towards yours and he pushes himself away.

“I-i’m sorry—” Neuvillette was quick to fix his disheveled self, one you've yet to see. The Iudex that always kept a presentable appearance seemed to be dazed at this very moment.

“I'm sorry,” you echoed his apology, not meaning to entirely frighten him with your sudden appearance. “I heard you were sick, so i wanted to check up on you.”

Neuvillette had one had gripping the wooden desk to the point his knuckles turned white, and his eyes diverted his attention away from your face, “i assure you.. I'm fine.” he stands up, hurriedly, turning around to somehow avoid you.

Only if you know, you'd be disgusted from him. He needs to drive you away from here—or else you'll drive him towards insanity.

“can i.. check up and take care of you?”

damn it. Who is he to refuse? Especially when you asked so nicely.

Neuvillette is now seated on the couch per your instructions, a blanket wrapped around him because you were convinced he felt cold despite his fever.

Sedene is now not even surprised you didn't listen to her, she only sighs as she brings the herbal tea you asked from her.

“It won't work.” Sedene tells you flatly at the door, but you take the cup anyway, “call me if you need anything more.” She says one last time before you wave her off.

“here, herbal teas are the best when you're sick.” You carefully hand him the tea cup, “it's hot.” You warn him softly, and he takes the cup just fine—thanks to his gloves.

“did you get the tea from Wriothesley?”

“… who?”

“no—nevermind, thank you.” He offers you a weak smile before nearing the cup close to his lips, then inhaling sharply to take in the scent of the strong herbs, just anything but your scent.

“Are you comfortable like this?” You ask while adjusting the blanket around him and he only nods while taking a slow sip.

Leave. He wants to tell you, it's already dizzying.

He crosses his legs before clearing his throat loudly, almost like coughing on purpose.

And you are already scooting closer while patting his back, you're doing the complete opposite of what he's trying to let you do. “Are you okay?” You tilt your head to take a better look at his face, his neck twisting to the other side. And you notice just how red the tips of his ears were.

“How about i fetch you some cough medicine?”

“I will be just alright without it, thank you.”

You press your lips together into a thin line, he seems to be refusing everything. Or maybe he's just stubborn when sick?

“you need to eat,” you stand up to grab the paper bag filled with croissant that you bought earlier from a nearby bakery.

You don't know what his favourites were, so you bought a variety of things.

“this one is not sweet, it's buttery.” you rip a small piece for him to try, but he still keeps his head away from you.

You are already frowning, “Neuvillette, are you upset with me? Could you please look here? I just want you to get better…”

That's all it took for him to snap his head back to your attention, he would hate to be the source of your sadness, and that little change in your tone said it all.

You smile when he faces you, “say ‘ahh’.” You laugh quietly to yourself as you near the piece closer to his lips, and he only watches in amusement at first.

“i didn't poison it.” You joke, and it manages to make his lips curl, “I'll eat it first to prove it to you,” you now piece of croissant between your teeth before on it with your mouth closed while humming.

The remenats of the croissant lingered on your lips, and he can't seem to tear his gaze away from your bottom lip.

You notice, of course. Assuming it was crumbs, you glide your tongue along your lower lip, leaving a glossy sheen to your lips.

You weren't even trying, his mind just decided it was attractive coming from you.

And his breath quickens, his pupils dilate, his hand slides along the couch right to your side, and god you smell just so swe—

“Neuvillette?” He blinks, and he's met with your confused face. Just then he realizes his head was tilted to the side, gestured to leaning in.

Oh god. You're going to so hate him.

“leave.” He abruptly stands up, brushing the blanket off his shoulders to walk towards the window, opening it for him to breath some fresh air. “… please.”

“Okay.” You don't argue back, you respect his privacy of being alone. And you stand up to carry yourself out of his office before shutting it close.

Sedene wants to ask you what happened, but she doesn't bother when she sees how your hand is resting above your chest to feel the quickening of your heartbeat as you slowly make your way out.

What was that?

—

“I owe you an explanation.”

“you literally don't owe me anything,”

“Do you hate—”

“Neuvi, i don't.” you tap at his arm, giving him a sincere smile before laughing. “It's not a big deal. Sick people tend to be stubborn.”

Neuvillette has healed after a week, and he immediately asked for you to hang out together again after he fully recovered, and you suggested you both talk over a picnic.

That's how you find yourself under a tree, above the cottony blanket beneath both of you with a basket of goodies on the side. You also brought two canvases with you, because why not?

Neuvillette contemplates whether he should tell you about his true nature, he fears you'll never talk to him afterwards.

“Something's on your mind,” you mindlessly speak as you put the canvas on his lap, “let's paint together, I'm sure it will ease our minds a bit.”

He now focuses on the way his brush strokes the white canvas, now filling it with different colours, he wants to try every colour, and you encourage for him to do so.

“i am not who you think to be,” Neuvillette starts as he continues gliding the brush.

“Mm, do tell. Are you a fairy?”

You earn a chuckle from him, and you chuckle right back, “or perhaps a merman?” You raise an eyebrow, yet your eyes don't leave your art.

“neither.” He sighs, “I am the… Hydro Dragon Sovereign.” He mutters under his breath, and he could see from his peripheral vision how you seemed to stop your work.

Both of your eyes meet, his of worry, and yours of curiousity and shock.

“no wonder,” your voice lowers and his eyebrows furrow before his eyes widen when you reach to brush your fingers along the shape of his ear. “It makes sense now. This is very interesting.”

He's at a lost. You were not upset, nor angry or anything, you were more amazed than any of these pessimistic emotions.

His shoulders relax, he was worried about nothing. It was you after all, the most understanding, gentle human being.

“thank you for telling me.” You now keep your hands to yourself, “as for me,” you turn to hold your canvas again to show him your newly art piece.

“I'm actually a turtle.” You try not to burst out laughing when you show him the detailed drawing of a baby turtle next to a pond, he looks quite shocked and mortified.

“… i would not like you to be a turtle.”

“why? Because they're slow?”

He shakes his head while trying to hide his smirk, “That's one,” he quips before it was his turn to show his canvas, “you remind me art.” You witness his painting, and you think it's the most beautiful sight.

It's a brown canvas with all sort of colours that blend well together, and you could clearly see the flower at the bottom of it, showing that it was growing. “I'm jealous,” you pout, “i should've painted a dragon, had i known you were one much earlier.” You groan before making a mental note to yourself of what your next art should be.

Neuvillette laughs. A genuine sound coming from him as his hand finds his cheek to try and hide any signs of redness. The sound makes you feel the familiar feelings whenever you were around him, shyness, happiness and the racing of your heart.

He calms down after a breath before speaking again, “I trust you won't spread our secret.”

“The secret will die with me.” You reassure him. “though i am curious now, maybe i should buy books about dragons?” You speak your mind while smiling mischievously and he shakes his head in response, “you shouldn't tire yourself with such matters.”

“it's not tiring, it's more interesting.”

"I understand your curiosity," Neuvillette replies with a gentle smile, his eyes softening at your enthusiasm, and he keeps his attention to you, since you're everything he ever thinks of these days.

“I will miss this.” You prop your elbow on your thigh as your chin rests on the palm of your hand, “i know you're a busy man, and having the privilege to meet you like this so often… i feel lucky.”

No. You? Lucky? He's the lucky one. You're the only person he's excited to see after a long trial. The only person he's enjoyed having company with in a very very long time.

He had grown quite fond of you in the short time you've known each other, he forgets that you'll leave soon, "When... when do you plan to leave Fontaine?" He asks, his voice reluctant.

“… in two weeks.”

Neuvillette nods slowly. A week... That's all the time he has left with you. He's quiet for a moment, processing the information. Then, he speaks up, his voice quieter than usual, "just a week, huh?”

You can feel his mood shift, and you can't help but be upset. You think you have upsetted him a little too much, you want to reach your hand out to him… but you keep them to yourself when you see how he seems to ponder in his own thoughts.

—

The weather is bad. You note, the clouds seem to darken as you continue your walk, a few droplets falling from the sky and right on your cheek, and you quickly hold your bag close to you, you can't afford ruining your art supplies now.

You wanted to pass by Chioriya Boutique, you hear it's a popular fashion label, but with the current change of weather, you will most likely postpone your plans to tomorrow.

Oh no, you need to seek shelter. Rain is pouring harder now, and you witness how the citizens expressions turn to disappointment.

The kids playing nearby stop their feet from kicking the ball around as well.

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon! Don't cry!” You're surprised to hear one of the kids chant and run, was this some fontanine thing that you didn't know about? Come to think of it, you heard it once when you were painting on one rainy day, but you didn't pay much mind to it.

You smile at the silly words as you try to imitate them, “hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't…” your smile drops when you realise something, and your eyebrows furrow.

Hydro dragon? Crying? Could the rain possibly be—

You don't waste time when you begin running towards Neuvillette's office. The only place where you're guaranteed to see him.

The rain is pouring harder now, drenching your clothes and hair, the puddles splashing from your feet and dirtying your shoes and pants, but you're too focused on getting to him to care about your condition.

Finally reaching the doors to his office, you barge in, panting slightly from the rush.

“Neuvillette!”

Neuvillette turns away from the rain-soaked window, his eyes widening with surprise and a little startled as you burst into his office, panting and calling out his name. He takes in your drenched appearance, confusion and surprise etched across his face.

"Are you okay? Hurt?" He asks, striding towards you. He's worried. He's afraid of what must've happened to you.

"N-no but—the rain, are you.. upset? Is the rain from you?”

Neuvillette's eyes flicker away for a moment, avoiding your gaze. He had hoped no one would catch on to the connection between his emotions and the weather, but you being here, figuring it out after that children's chant, means he can't deny it.

His heart aches, yet he doesn't want to lie to you, "yes," he admits, "the rain is... it's a result of my emotions.”

You take a step forward while water drips from your hair strands, “is it my fault?”

He shakes his head vigorously as you blame yourself for his upset. "No," he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. "It's... it's not entirely your fault. Yes, you're leaving, and I'm... I'm not taking it well, but my emotional outburst isn't your responsibility." He, as well, moves closer to you, his fists clenched to his sides.

“i don't know, i don't like upsetting you.” You frown.

Seeing the sadness in your eyes, he reaches gently to touch your damp hair, his fingers brushing a few stray strands out of your face, "you're not upsetting me," he reassures quietly. "I... I'm just struggling to accept the thought of you leaving. That's all. It's not your fault.”

Your arm reaches out for him, Neuvillette stiffens a little when he feels you wrap your arm around him. Your shivering body against his own, your face buried against his shoulder... it's both soothing and stirring.

His heart races in his chest as he gently returns the embrace, one arm encircling around your waist, and the other holding you close, it's comforting, you feel warmer, even when you feel your eyelashes dampen a little.

His hug is gentle, tight, it's as if he's hugging your soul. Just when you were the one who wanted to comfort him.

“I will miss you.”

“so will i, although I'm just a normal person.”

“No, you're not.”

“how so?”

Neuvillette presses his lips together, "You make me feel things I've never felt before," he confesses quietly. "You make my heart race, my palms sweaty, my mind confused... yet, in a good way. You make me feel alive.” you lift your chin from his shoulder, your hand coming up to caresse the smoothness of his face, and your lip curls upwards.

“Can i…” your eyes are glued to his lips, and you don't sense yourself nearing closer to his face. Neuvillette's were wide when you come closer and closer to his face, his hand fisting the fabric of the back of your clothes too tightly, and he gasps quietly as your cold, damp lips meet his own.

he's too stunned to respond.

But as your lips remain pressed against his, he slowly melts into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. This was his first kiss, and it was with you, the person who'd stolen his heart in such a short span of time.

Neuvillette can't believe what's happening. Your lips against his, the way they fit together perfectly, it makes his heart race in his chest, his head spin. He reciprocates the kiss, his lips moving gently against yours.

Your arms wrap themselves around his neck to push yourself closer, your fingers brush at his hair, and it makes him shudder.

you kiss him harder, your lips ravishing his own. He follows your lead, his inexperience showing in his slightly clumsy, but enthusiastic response as you smack your lips in soft kisses over and over again.

You seperate your lips away from his, but it doesn't last before your thumb parts his lips gently, “open your mouth.” You whisper, he obeys, slowly opening his mouth, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

An involuntary moan escapes Neuvillette's lips as you plunge your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his own. He's never experienced anything like this before, his arms tighten around your waist, his fingers digging slightly into your hips, as he responds to your kiss, his own tongue clumsily trying to match your pace.

It's addictive. His taste, his touch, you feel selfish enough to want him all for yourself.

You both pull away when you fell the oxygen run out from your lungs as you inhale back sharply. Your hazy gaze meets his half-lidded one's and you think you've never seen such a prettier sight.

“… have i gone overboard?” You whisper, and he swallows thickly before resting his forehead against yours to close his eyes, “no..”

The rain has stopped, the pattering against the window nothing more than a soft drizzle.

He runs his fingers through your damp hair, feeling how it clings to your face, and how your eyes seem to lit up.

A soft smile plays on his lips as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. The world outside seems to have calmed along with his emotions, mirroring the peace he feels in your presence. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, savoring this intimate moment between you.

“you have your own life, your own path to follow. I can't keep you here, it's not fair to you.” He wants to keep you to himself, he's too selfish, and he knows it.

And you're greedy, and you know it.

You part your lips to protest, but his eyes tell you everything. He just wants you happy, to continue living your human life and not waste it.

That he, will be just a memory to you. A precious one. Just how you will be the most treasured memory that he will keep in his heart.

—

“Monsieur Neuvillette, i got you the macarons.” Sedene taps his desk lightly to grab his attention as sets the plate and water cup in front of him.

“Ah, thank you, Sedene.” His fingers pull at the plate to take a better look at them, ever since you left Fontaine about a month ago, Neuvillette never stopped ordering the sweets you used to give him every now and then.

Every day, Neuvillette finds himself missing your presence.

He goes about his duties, attending to his role as Iudex, but his mind is often elsewhere. Despite his attempts to focus on his work, he keeps finding his thoughts drifting back to you, memories of your time together replaying in his mind.

At night, he lies in bed alone, the silence in his quarters almost deafening. He finds himself reaching out, almost subconsciously, as if looking for a body that isn't there.

Or when his fingertips brushed along his lips to try and feel your cold lips that day, was it a goodbye kiss?

“Is it about that artist?” Sedene speaks her mind when she notices how dull the Iudex gets as the days go by, even though he tries to act unaffected per your words. He wouldn't want the nation to drown in his tears just because of his own reasons.

“This reminds me,” She takes out an envelope from the pocket of her uniform before standing on her tip toes to hand it to him before making her way out.

The envelope was neat, with a pretty designed stamp on, Neuvillette opened it carefully before taking out it's contents.

It's you. Or, a photo of you. Smiling brightly with the aranaras, it makes him smile to himself as he traces the photo. You look even more charming than he remembers.

There's another note with the photo, but it's a vague message. A written location here in Fontaine, with a specific date and time.

Neuvillette is confused, was this a message of your return? And based on the date, it's three days from now. He will try to clear his schedule for the set time, he doesn't know what to expect, maybe a gift awaits for him, he wishes you wrote more, but that was the end of it.

—

Neuvillette stands in front of the wooden door, hesitant to knock on it. This is the place, the exact date and time. The sun is disappearing for today, and it's the moon's turn to show it's face.

He knocks twice, the sound ringing in the still air. Just as he was about to go for another knock, the door opens, and he barely comprehends what's going on before he feels a hand pull him in, and he gasps.

He's startled in the moment, but all of Neuvilette's worries and frustrations melt away when he realizes it's you who threw their arms around his neck, he wastes no time in returning the embrace, pulling you tight against him.

He holds you close, his arms practically enveloping you as he buries his face into your shoulder, relishing the feel of you in his arms again.

“Such a vague message you sent me,” he tries to speak light-heartedly, and you giggle in response. He's now assured it's your laugh.

“I've missed you.” He whispers next to your ear to make sure you hear the words, “I've missed you more.” You whisper back, mimicking his gesture.

“impossible.” he retorts, the corner of his wrinkling from how much he's been smiling.

And the moment your lips meet his to shush him, Neuvilette feels like he's come alive again. He responds instantly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him.

He knows how to kiss you now, hopefully he does it the same as the last time.

He kisses you passionately, now devouring your lips, hungrily trying to make up for every moment you were apart. The taste, the texture, the feel of your lips against his, it all floods his senses, reigniting the spark that's been missing since you left. And he remembers it all.

Neuvilette follows your lead, stumbling a little as he's guided backwards towards the bed. His mind is filled with a haze as you strip off your coat, he finds his hands roaming over your body while panting softly as you staddle his lap. His emotions are a mess, but what he knows is that he needs you more than he's ever thought.

“Neuvillette,” you utter his name in a soft, low tone. It makes his jaw slack a bit when you kiss at the skin of his neck, and he tips his head back to give you more space. He's all yours.

He thinks he's about to go dizzy, it's all unfamiliar, he's overwhelmed that he doesn't know what to feel first. But you going slow for him makes him want more and more—

His head goes blank when your middle and ring fingers slip inside his black glove to feel his skin against yours. You slide the material off with each to intertwine your fingers together.

You're incredible, he thinks—knows.

“Can i go further?” You ask, and he doesn't hesitate to nod, “paint your lips on my body.”

He expected to feel the graze of your teeth along the curve of his collarbone, what he didn't expect was for you to palm his bulge, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. The tips of his ears grow redder and this is the most embarrassed he's ever felt. He can feel himself growing harder with each touch, his body reacting instinctively to your ministrations, and he can't help but thrust upwards.

“M-mon amour, i… i—” he cannot bring the words, not when you're showing him too much love and affection all at once.

He's never experienced such intense pleasure before, and the thought of reaching his release so quickly is both exhilarating and terrifying. He wants to savor every moment, to prolong this incredible feeling, but his body apparently had other plans.

You stop when you hear him almost whimper, it takes you by surprises. When your eyes search for his—all you're met with is his half-lidded full of lust gaze. You realize what had happened when you felt the damp spot sitting on the fabric.

he grabs the back of your neck gently to pull your face right in his hair, “give me… a minute.” He clears his throat before giving your intertwined hands a squeeze.

“May i?” He mutters, “mhm,” and his hands beginning to undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing the smooth skin beneath. He leans forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts, which makes your grit your teeth together because you know you'd be moaning too fast with whatever of his touch landed on your skin.

His fingers trace the lacy edge of your bra, feeling the material before Neuvillette's lips find yours again, his tongue delving into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, and his hand slips beneath your bra to cup your breasts. And this time it successfully managed to make you moan against his lips.

One clasp, and your bra falls from your body to reveal your bare self, he thinks it's a sin to stare at such a perfect body.

“you're perfect,” he rasps against your skin. His hands map the contours of your body, memorizing every dip and swell, as he trails lower.

Neuvillette's mouth finds one pert nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hand cups your other breast. He lavishes attention on your chest, alternating between licking, sucking, and gentle nips, until you are arching into his touch, your breathy moans and whines filling the room.

His other hand slides down your stomach, fingers dancing along your hip bones before dipping between your thighs after having rid of the unecessary barrier between you both.

He wants to touch you in the way you like it, and so sensing his hesitation, you take his hand in yours, and he groans at the wetness he finds there, his fingers gliding easily through your slick folds.

When you guide his fingers through your slit, you stop at your clit, and he takes it as cue to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb which ultimately makes you moan louder, your hand leaving for him to take control.

Neuvillette captures your lips in a searing kiss as he keeps your thighs parted for him when he feels you wanting to close them together.

Your heart races, with each tight circle around your sensitive nub, it makes you pant softly, your lips parted before gasping in surprise when you feel him slowly pushing one long finger inside you, relishing the way your walls grip him tightly.

It's warm, it's tight, how would he even fit inside you?

He experimentally curls his fingers repeatedly before setting a steady rhythm, curling and thrusting his finger to hit that perfect spot inside you. He was already so hard that it was starting to ache and throb, he wishes to have some self control just for now.

“gonna cum—” the minute he heard you say that, he withdrew his finger out of you which makes you whine at the loss. “Wh—” the words die on your tongue when you watch him undress, his hand holding his prettily flushed cock right at the base to position himself between your legs, “I am an impatient and greedy man, forgive me,” his voice is soothing as he pecks your lips before you feel his fat tip starting to stretch you at your entrance, and you both groan in relief.

Your hot and tight walls clamped around him when he thrusted forward to bury all of himself in you at once. Which literally, almost makes him cum if not for the way his gripping your thighs so harshly.

He presses your thighs down until they reach the sides of your ears, it makes your back arch, and your cunt swallowing all of him as he buries his face into your neck, “H-hah please relax—i can't, you're going to make finish sooner again—” you listen to his quiet pleas, and you try to relax your body, you also want this to be a lasting moment.

Neuvillette's heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his thrusts, he can feel your nails digging into his shoulders, your hips rocking to meet his movements. The sounds of skin slapping together in the air is so lewd that he tries to divert his attention elsewhere.

His thrusts grows sloppier by the minute as he breathes heavily, his cock twitching inside you before he starts increasing the pace to reach both of your release, one hand leaving your thigh to rub circles around your swollen clit, and suddenly, you're crying out, your body convulsing beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you. He groans, the shivering sensation of your cunt squeezing aroud him sends his face into your neck, muffling his cries of ecstasy as he empties himself inside you. He cums harder than the first time, as if emptying everything he has to give you until a white ring forms at his base.

Your eyes roll back when you feel so warm and full, your legs giving out tiredly as you both relax in the comfort of one another.

Yeah, you're tied to him now.

—

“I'd like for you to treasure this painting.” Neuvillette frowns when you gesture towards the large canvas that took you months to finish.

It's you, and him.

Living with Neuvillette feels right, although he doesn't steal your freedom and passion to continue travelling around different nations, as long as you come back to him, your home.

you wish for him to travel with you one day. He already promised you to after all.

“It's marvelous,” he comments, almost breathlessly. He'll have to hang it where it's only visible to his and your eyes.

He knows why you do this, why you create simple art that's a memory of both of you. Favourite food? You'll draw it. Favourite hobbies together? You'll catch the moment right on the canvas with extra vibrant colours.

“One day when i—” he doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to hear how one day you'll leave this world permanently and he'll have to live on. Painful years after years without you.

“I want to treasure every second with you,” he lifts your hand up to his lips, for him to kiss the back of your hand before his thumbs rubbed over your knuckles.

You give him a reassuring smile, “you are going to be a wonderful experience until then.”

“and you… will be everything to me, even after that.” Neuvillette smiles back before exhaling deeply.

[apollowhoo]

could you pleasee do a gravity falls one shot?

so basically Bill Cipher meets the youngest Pines member but they're like 3-4 years old. And basically Bill doesn't know how to react, he's all confused but also in awe. Make it fluff and i know it's going to be hard to write this as canon Bill Cipher so you can ignore if you want <33

Bill Cipher x Child!Reader (PLATONIC)

The forest surroundcing the Mystery Shack was quiet. Somewhere between dimensions, floating lazily, was Bill Cipher, his single eye half-lidded with boredom. His typical schemes to cause chaos were on hold, and for once, he was simply… existing.

That’s when he heard it—a soft giggle, light as a feather. Bill’s eye snapped open, immediately. There, standing among the wildflowers, was a small figure with messy hair, chubby cheeks, and a bright, curious gaze.

The youngest member of the Pines family.

His eye narrows slightly. A little kid, no older than three or four, was staring right up at him. Her tiny hands gripping a stuffed animal that seemed to be some kind of hybrid between a cat and a duck—perfectly nonsensical, just the way Bill liked things.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Bill floated closer, his voice carrying its usual sarcasm. “A little ankle-biter out all alone? Shouldn’t you be with your oh-so-boring family?”

The girl tilted her head, eyes wide and sparkling with the kind of innocence Bill found really weird. She didn't seemed scared. She suddenly reaches out, poking Bill with a tiny finger in pure curiosity.

Bill’s eye widened a little in surprise. Most people who encountered him would either scream, run, or try to strike some ridiculous bargain. But this little human? She just poked him like he was some new toy.

“Hey, hey! Hands off the merchandise!” Bill exclaimed. He wondered, why wasn’t she afraid? Why wasn’t she running? And why, in all his chaotic glory, did he find this child so… interesting?

The child giggled again, a bubbly sound that seemed to echo in Bill’s mind. She pointed at him with her free hand, her other continuing to clutching her stuffed toy close.

“Triangle!” she declared proudly, their voice high-pitched and filled with wonder.

Bill let out a bark of laughter, genuinely amused. “Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? That’s right, kiddo. I’m a triangle, the best triangle you’ll ever meet. Got any other shapes in that little brain of yours?”

The kid smiled. They started babbling, half-formed words about god know what, pointing excitedly as if expecting Bill to just understand them. The demon was used to others feeling fear, but this… this innocent curiosity was something else.

“Alright, kid, slow down,” Bill said. “You think I can just whip up stars and moons like a party trick? You’re talking to Bill Cipher, not some street magician.”

For the first time in… well, forever, Bill felt utterly out of his element. He could outsmart the smartest, scare the toughest, and twist anyone around his finger, but this kid? She just saw him entertainig.

Bill hovered beside them, his eye following them every move. He had cought a small, harmless ball of light, flickering in and out of existence.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while it lasts, kid,” Bill mumbled, though there was no more venom in his voice.

The girl just grinned, leaning her head against his triangular form as if he were just another friend, not a demon with a penchant for chaos. Bill let her, floating there quietly as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

For once, he wasn’t planning anything. No schemes, no deals, no manipulation. Just a strange, peaceful moment with a little human who saw him not as a threat .

And for reasons Bill couldn’t quite fathom, he didn’t mind it one bit.

[potatosaresweet]

shang qinghua's final ''it's just that he really liked the story he made" means so much to me i don't know how to explain it. this man wrote this world. this messy, chaotic, disasterous world. some things( he loved) he kept in the drafts and some things (he didn't enjoy) got published but the full story was in his head. he put a bit of himself in every character, creating them from scratch. his protagonist with flaws and all. his perfect idea of what a man should be. his dissasterous understanding of what wuxia novels should include (ahem why are yall using carriages you can fly on swords). it's flawed. it's messy. the outcome wasn't what he hoped for initially. so many things we left unexplored. but it was his. it was his and he loved it. it was his and he was able to stay there and live his own story, and even expand it, and if that's not the dream of every author i don't know what it is.

[wandasaura]

THE BEST THING THATS EVER BEEN MINE

summary — when you take the dogs to the park, jealousy takes control when wanda gets too comfortable with someone else.

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, domestic fluff bc i couldn't help myself, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, mommy kink, biting, love bites, oral fixation, teasing, slight humiliation, brief dumbification, jealousy, bratty reader, thigh riding, mentions of fingering, clothed sex, punishment, aftercare, men/minors dni

authors note — the promised second part to love is a ruthless game. jealous reader finally makes her appearance as requested!

You decided very quickly that however curious you were about adopting a dog, you never wanted Wanda to agree with that decision. Although the sun was already peaking past the horizon when Lucky came scratching at the guest room door,  effectively rousing not only you, but Natasha from sleep, it wasn’t even eight in the morning. It wasn’t often you woke up with the Russian still in bed beside you, typically being the last one to wake and the first to fall asleep, and now that you had her warm and soft beside you, you weren't even able to enjoy her clingy cuddles like you wanted. Lucky was persistent, his whines and whimpers thin but effectively audible despite the heavy door trying its best to block him out. Wanda’s voice echoed through the house in tandem with the pitiful whimpers, trying to beckon the pup back downstairs, but the retriever was adamant about wanting you awake. 

Natasha groaned beside you, her face shoved into the pit of your neck where the impeding sunlight was darkest. Her hair tickled your cheek as she wiggled further into you, soft breaths fanning across the expanse of your shoulder. You giggled softly at the sensation, twisting into her arms until you were chest to chest, then leaning in to press a kiss to her clothed skin right above where her beating heart laid. You sighed blissfully, thankful that Wanda has managed to distract Lucky, but knowing that despite the reclaimed silence, you’ll be unable to go back to sleep now that youre awake and focused on Natasha. 

“I love you.” You whispered against her chest, laughing when her lips puckered against the skin of your neck and kissed you sweetly albeit sleepily. She was always affectionate, always wanting to assure you know how loved you are, but you’ve discovered that when she’s tired theres no amount of physical contact that can satisfy her. As if determined to prove that statement, she tugs you closer into her chest, fingers loosely threading into the knotted ends of your hair.  “Do you need more lotion on your wrists?” You question softly, untangling your arm from between your chests so that you can trace the tips of your fingers along her cheekbones. 

As if she wasn’t sure about the question, Natasha rolled her wrists in circular motions, testing just how badly the irritated skin ached from the aftermath of being restrained. You scoffed amusedly, deciding that her answer wasn’t going to be trustworthy when she finally did respond. You pulled yourself away from her chest before she’d even returned her gentle grip to your hair and lower back, though you giggled when needy fingers poked and prodded at your ribs trying to get you to stay. 

“Come back.” She whined, rolling into the center of the bed, and although she was covered by blankets, you could make out the soft rising and falling of her chest as she turned onto her back and finally peeled her eyes upon to drink in the sight of you still messy from sleep. Your hair was frizzy, cheeks flush and adorned with indentations from the pillows prominent and deep against your skin. You slept like dead weight, but Wanda’s rustling always found a way to tousle strands of your hair that she inevitably got caught between. You looked like sheer beauty as sunlight dawned upon your features. “Duckling.” She pleaded, arms outstretched and pleading with you to step close enough to touch. 

You smiled fondly but remained persistent, already turning toward the door and leaving Natasha to lay amongst the ungodly amount of pillows and thin summer bedding as you searched for the lotion Wanda used last night. When you opened the door, you were met with the indicative sounds of breakfast being made down in the kitchen. The clattering of metal and plastic made you smile, still not accustomed to how a house could feel so lived in each and every day. It was a mystery what the Sokovian would be preparing as she clattered around in the kitchen accompanied only by Yelena’s dogs, but desperately you hoped that it was something sweet; sweeter than the fruit that she’d been forcing you and Natasha to eat everyday for the past three weeks. 

The bedroom was two doors down and directly across from Natasha’s office. Deciding that a detour wouldn’t hurt the already pouty woman, you broke away from your intended path and verged off into the office where paperwork and files sat meticulously stacked on the left side of her desk. The right side was dressed in personal items, namely a picture of the three of you from the Memorial Day barbeque, and little trinkets that you assumed came from Russia. You’d have to ask how frequently she visited her native country, noting that some of the figures on her desk looked shiny and new. You smiled softly when you noticed a ring sat beside her keyboard, knowing that it wasn’t hers, but Wanda’s. You wondered just how many small traces of them existed within the others personal spaces, but that would have to be a scavenger hunt for another day. 

You smiled softly when you pulled open her desk drawer, finding your now voided contract at the top of the pile she kept. You don’t think she’d ever part ways with it, telling you that it’s a reminder of how far she’s come since you met her last year, and you can’t disagree with her logic. The sticky notes she keeps are right beside it, all annoyingly mundane and lacking bright colors. Wanda’s the one with the plethora of color options, which had thrown you for a loop when you’d initially assumed Natasha was the fun one. Either way, you pulled a single piece from the pad, reaching for a pen that was laid across her other documents. You didn’t have the time to dwell on what you wanted to say, settling simply for the three words you loved the most and a deformed smiley face that would surely make her laugh. Natasha always did find amusement in your mindless doodles, something you found extremely endearing. You adhered it to the monitor of her desktop, assuring that none of the glue residue touched the actual screen because she’d surely lose it. When you were satisfied that it was in a place she wouldn’t miss, you slipped back into the hallway and carried on into the bedroom, eager to be back in her warmth for at least a handful of minutes before Wanda called you both down for breakfast. 

The bedding had been stripped from the bed, all that remained was naked pillows and the fluffy mattress that begged for your weight to sink into it. The collection of your clothes that had adorned the hardwood floor were all missing as well, and you assumed that in her need to find order, Wanda had thrown them in the washer as well. She really was horrible at letting a mess exist for longer then a handful of hours. With the sunlight bleeding into the room, adding warmth the wooden furniture and floors, all that remained from last nights scene was the bottle of lotion on the nightstand table, the other toys and instruments already cleaned and back in the combination locked briefcase. 

You freshened up in the bathroom, not wanting to linger in your sleepy state for any longer then you already had, and the water you splashed against your face felt exquisite after receiving so many licks and kisses from Fanny and Lucky yesterday. With your hair tied up into a ponytail and the rest of your routine completed in full, you left the bathroom behind you, eager to find Natasha once again. 

The Russian was in the same place that you’d left her in ten minutes ago, sprawled out on her back with wild red curls splayed angelically against the pillowcases in a fashion that was reminiscent of a halo. You grinned sweetly, climbing over her body until you could settle against her belly, not saving her the experience of your full weight plopping down on her in seconds. You giggled at her grunt, calloused hands holding onto your thighs as she peeled her eyes open and looked up at you with faux annoyance. 

“Wake up.” You more or less demanded, your bright smile significantly more electric than it had been when you’d first laid your eyes on her that morning. Natasha couldn’t resist smiling back, and her hands reached to rub at her cheeks as she forced herself awake. She and Wanda always resisted rubbing their eyes in the morning, claiming that it was damaging and not the best habit, but you couldn’t be swayed, and secretly, Natasha found it adorable when your closed fists dug into your eye sockets like a sleepy toddler as you stretched out the muscles in your body only to curl up into a tight ball again. “Wanda’s making breakfast.” You informed her gently, unscrewing the cap on the lotion and squeezing a generous amount onto your palms in the same fashion that you’d seen Wanda commit to. 

Unlike last night when she was adamant that all she needed was cuddles from her ‘two favorite girls’, Natasha didn’t fight against you when you reached for her wrist and held it tenderly in front of your chest. You inspected the irritated skin, pleased that although it was red and adored with the faintest traces of ligature marks, the skin wasn’t torn apart nor angry. You rubbed the lotion into her skin tenderly, not wanting to further irritate the area, and Natasha appreciated your efforts as she sighed in relief. You giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips against the tip of her nose before you repeated the process on her other wrist. 

“Can I bite you?” You questioned randomly, breaking the silence that had come to sit overtop of your warm bodies as you devoted your full attention to Natasha’s wrists. 

Amused, Natasha’s lips settled into her infamous smirk that always had you weak in the knees. The green within her eyes was sharp and calculated as she watched you play and twist at her fingers now that your initial task had been completed. “You’re going to bite me anyways.” Her voice was smooth as it reached your ears, not outright refusing your request of biting down on her fingers, but not entirely compliant with the idea. You smiled down at her eagerly, wanting to have her full permission before you sunk your teeth into her soft skin. “Once.” She agreed, nodding her head at your unasked question. She was never able to deny you when you looked so sweet and eager sat against her, and after all of your efforts to make her feel loved since coming down from the scene, she didn’t really want to say no anyway. She could handle your incessant need to bite her if it would make you happy, however her permission didn’t come without an ultimatum. “Then I’m sending you off to Wanda.” 

You laughed at her threat, but nodded anyways, bringing her fingers up to your lips. You kissed them sweetly, your lips soft and barely there as you just existed in this soft moment with her. Your delicacy didn’t last for much longer, and the second she had relaxed against the bed, your teeth sunk into her skin harshly; harsher then you’d ever even consider biting Wanda. You giggled at her yelp of shock, scrambling off her lap and out of the guest room before she could think about retaliating. 

You raced down the stairs, throwing caution to the wind as you forced yourself to forget about all the lectures Wanda had bestowed upon you about how dangerous to run down them. Natasha was hot on your heels, her footsteps light and calculated as she called for you to come back to her. The sounds of Wanda rummaging through cabinets became clearer with each step you took toward the kitchen, and when she was in sight, already showered and dressed for the day, you wasted not even a single second before you were throwing your arms around her torso and hiding your face in her chest just as she had spun around to find whatever the commotion was about. 

Lucky and Fanny barked with glee as you unintentially riled them up, their tails wagging as they made laps around the island, knocking into the chairs that sat on one side of the counter after each successful lap. Wanda gasped at your tight embrace, but one of her hands fall onto the small of your back without hesitance. 

“Save me.” You pleaded, looking up at her with wide eyes that held mischief and chaos. You didn’t spare Natasha a single glance when you heard her enter the kitchen, more than certain that she wouldn’t do anything with Wanda present. 

The Sokovian hummed thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at you with adoration clear in her sage stare. Her pink tinted lips quirked upward into an amused grin, scrambled eggs on the stove momentarily forgotten about despite how they sizzled and begged to be removed from the heat. “What did you get yourself into, moya utenok?” She grinned, tracing a gentle finger against the slope of your nose that felt ticklish before it was gone and her hand cradled the back of your head protectively. 

“Nothing!” You shook your head frantically, clinging closer to her chest when you felt Natasha come up behind you, her hands cold as they ran up the exposed skin of your thighs. There was disbelief written across Wanda’s expression, the sunlight bleeding in from the open window practically a spotlight as it highlighted each and every freckle that adorned her naked skin.

“The little devil bit me.” Natasha exclaimed though her voice was perfectly level as she held her hand up for Wanda to see, the sunlight falling into the soft craters your teeth left along her skin. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking up at Wanda with a bright expression on your face. 

“She said I could!” You explained mischievously, your eyes bright and enchanted as the organic light reflected across your face. Your entire disposition wasn’t dissimilar to the state of Lucky and Fanny who had begun to chase each other through the house, still hyper on your own excitement, though now they barrled into glass doors and walls each time they turned to bark at the other. “I asked nicely and she said I could, Mommy.” As your voice raised three octaves, so did your height as you pushed yourself up on your tippy-toes and left a sweet kiss on the corner of Wanda’s jaw, attempting to pull her beneath your trap as Natasha gasped at the scene. 

“Do not play the Mommy card you little minx!” You shrieked in laughter when Natasha grew tired of caressing your thighs, her cold hands taking you by the waist and pulling you back into her chest, though your eyes still lingered on Wanda who merely shook her head in amusement at the sight. You attempted to squirm away from Natasha’s fingers that dug into your ribs, but her grip was persistent around your waist, not allowing you freedom. 

Your eyes closed against your will, your head falling backward as laughter filled the kitchen alongside the barks and yelps of the puppies who didn’t understand what was going on, but wanted to be a part of the fun anyways. Fanny’s tail drummed against your shin as she circled your feet, but you had no time to show any attention to the retriever as Natasha blew a raspberry against your neck. Your laughter ended abruptly when in that same spot, her teeth sunk into your skin. A choked moan slipped past your lips as her tongue shot out to ease the spark of pain before you could even recongize its presence. Your fighting stilled, body falling slack against her chest as she trailed kisses up your neck before biting again, this time just below your ear. A shuddered whine fell off your lips as you craned your neck to the side, eager for her to do it again. The position allowed sunlight to kiss against your features, warm and welcoming as you basked beneath it. 

Natasha’s arms stayed tightly around your waist, but her teeth never left another impression amongst the smooth expanse of your neck. You whined softly when you realized she had no intentions of continuing, a pout taking over your lips as you peeled your eyes open and looked up at her pleadingly. 

Natasha leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose, but her unbroken stare as dangerous and calculated as she maintained eyecontact, her hand cupping your chin to assure you didn’t look away before she was willing to let this moment fall away into just another memory.  “Don’t forget who you belong to, malen’kaya.” 

You pouted deeper, wriggling out of her arms at the first instance that she allowed, instead seeking out Wanda who was thoroughly amused at the stove, an apron half tied around her waist and dusted with what you could only assume was powder from the pancake mix she’d thrown together. The Sokovian didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a one-armed bear hug, keeping you flush to her chest as she flipped a pancake with a matte black spatula. Even their utensils matched the aesthetic of the kitchen, sometimes it felt like they had everything so meticulously planned out that not even an apocalypse could throw them off. You nuzzled your face into her neck, inhaling that fresh scent of grapefruit that lingers on the collar of her t-shirt, eyelashes tickling her skin as you let your eyes flutter closed. “You’re wife’s being mean.” You sulked against her, your voice muffled and thin as you listened to her heart beat evenly in your ear. 

You yelped in shock when a warning tap langed against your ass, entirely unexpected and harsh within your soft little moment. Your head shot up from Wanda’s neck, searching for Natasha who looked down at you with a challenging gaze. “Do you want to try that again, little one?” She questioned, arms crossed over her chest as she stood beneath the unfiltered sunlight that allowed the green in her eyes to shimmer like a million stars. Your head shook feverishly, fingers curling into Wanda’s shirt as you held her tighter, your lips turning downward into a pout as your body finally caught up with what had happened and the ache in your ass settled over your mind. One spank always hurt more then multiple, you’d never be able to understand why. “No, who?” 

You shrank into Wanda, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you fought between looking at Natasha and hiding away in the woman who kept a comforting hand against the small of your back, her thumb rubbing soft circles over the thin shirt adorning your otherwise naked body. When the words finally fell off your lips, they were no louder then a whisper. “No Daddy.” 

“That’s what I thought.” She muttered, nodding her head curtly before she turned toward the refrigerator and sought out the pitcher of fresh juice that Wanda routinely assured was fully stocked at the start of each new week. This week, she’d gone with grape juice from the local farmers market, and it was particularly tart when you were least expecting it. You whined softly, digging your face into the lawyers neck, fingers still keeping a tight grip on her shirt. 

Wanda, feeling no sympathy for you, merely patted your back encouragingly. “You shouldn't have started a game you didn’t want to play, dorogaya.” You whined, shaking your head against her neck. Wanda wasn’t in the mood to play into your game, and her hand on your back trailed across your spine until it sat firmly against your hip, her ring clad fingers squeezing warningly. “Don’t get fussy with me. You’re the one who bit your Daddy. What did I say about biting?” 

You pouted, just wanting one of them to take pity on you, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for you this morning. Lifting your head from Wanda’s neck, you met her eye and meekly muttered, “That you’d bite me back.” 

Smiling softly, Wanda kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary, but you’d never complain, reveling in the soft touch. “Exactly. Now go help Daddy set the table. I was thinking we can take the dogs to the park today. Yelena left their leashes and I’m sure Natasha had a couple balls laying around here somewhere.” 

You’d never even considered taking the dogs out for a play, but as the suggestion rolled off of Wanda’s lips you nodded eagerly, tightening your grip on her shirt as you practically bounced on your toes and forced your chests closer together, practically one body beneath the radiant glow of summer sunlight. You’d miss it when fall came around, and the soft glow adorning your girlfriends skin dissipated into nothingness. “Can we go to the park with the big fields? Lucky will love that!” 

Wanda smiled at your excitement, glad to see a smile gracing your features again. “If you get your little ass in the dining room and help Natty, I don’t see why not.” She laughed, laying another little kiss on your forehead before you had the chance to untangle yourself from her completely and dart off in the direction that Natasha had trailed off in. 

“Deal!” You giggled in excitement, your sockless feet pounding against the hardwood floors as you made a break for the dining room, unintentionally colliding with Natasha who had only just turned around to grab the needed silverware for your breakfast of pancakes and eggs. You didn’t find it necessary to step away form the lawyers chest, standing right before her with anticipation clear on your smiley face. Your arms extended at your sides, palms raised toward the ceiling as you bellowed, “Natty, we’re going to the park!” 

“I heard, detka.” Natasha laughed at your excitement, gently taking your arms into her hands and holding them closely to her chest. Her lips pressed soft kisses against your wrists. “I also heard that you needed to help me with the table.” 

“Yeah.” The smile on your lips didn’t leave fully, but it dimmed as you pulled away and began the search for Wanda’a favorite cutlery, because leave it to the lawyers to have multiple sets all intended for different events and holidays. “Do you think Fanny will run away if we let her off the leash?” 

“She won’t run away.” Natasha laughed, dragging her fingers against the small of your back as she joined you beside the long dresser filled with different assortments of serving plates and utensils. She pointed toward the intended set, and you collected three forks and knives with a hum, unable to contain your excitement. 

-

The beating sun fell harshly against your sunscreen slathered skin, provoking sensations of warmth and comfort as you and Natasha chased after the softball she’d dug out of the garage. Lucky had decided that your game of fetch was no longer worth his attention, and had retreated back to Wanda’s side after you’d thrown the ball far off into the field for the umpteenth time. Your laughter bellowed through the park as Natasha bumped her hip against yours, sending you sidewalks on your walk to retrieve it. 

Although the grass was luscious and green, concealing many lost toys and objects, the lime colored ball stuck out like a sore thumb just inches ahead of you. The hours had rolled by quickly, afternoon soaking up the last of its stretches as nightfall became an approaching promise that no amount of pleading could stall. You’d spent the last four hours beneath the rays of delicate light, enjoying the practically abandoned park for what it was. Birds chirped at the very tops of tall trees, squirrels carried acorns across the sidewalk and scurried up the bench only to drop them and begin the process over again, only occasionally did another dog owner come trailing through and stopped for friendly conversation, but Wanda always responded eagerly. You hadn’t had a day this simple in weeks, spending most of your time either out beside the pool or trailing after your girlfriends as they tagged each other in to be CEO for the day. It felt utterly domestic to be beside them surrounded only by nature and traffic sounds, far away from paperwork and the house that had begun to feel confining. You soaked every second up eagerly, knowing it would end far too soon. 

You reached for the ball when you were close enough, batting away Natasha’s hands as she fought to retrieve it first. The Russian laughed loudly when you attempted to shove her body out of the way, yet despite all of your strength being put behind the shove, she remained perfectly in place. You huffed, but quickly your lips curled into a grin when the ball was safely between your fingers. Natasha merely rolled her eyes because you both knew that she had let you win despite her dirty tricks. You spun around to show Wanda, your smile wide with pride, but your eyes didn’t find the Sokovian alone beside the bench where the bag of treats and water was left. Instead, you found her in deep conversation with a woman she looked all too comfortable beside. 

You weren’t a jealous person, you could let a lot fall off your shoulders, but there was something about the way she was talking with the stranger that made your belly sick with envy. The green eyes you’d fallen in love with were creased around the edges, bright and full of radiant light as she continued on with the conversation that had her laughing. Her head was inclined to the side in that same dominating manner that she’d bestowed upon you mere hours ago, and although one of her hands scratched at Fanny’s coat, the other reached out to brush against the stranger's forearm. She wasn’t Wanda as she stood beneath the dark shadows branches on the tallest tree in the park projected, she was Mommy. Your smile fell quickly, the ball no longer anything interesting. 

Natasha’s hand falling onto the small of your back startled you enough for the ball to fall back into the blades of grass, slipping through your fingers like it wasn’t really there at all. You watched it slip into the tall blades, nearly concealed entirely, and you made no attempt to retrieve it as you turned your frown in her direction, the falling sun still bright enough to force you to squint as the light hit your eyes. The Russian laughed softly, her thumb rubbing softly against your clothed skin. “Got a problem, moya lyubov’?” There was a mischievous gleam in her equally squinted eyes, and you took the time to notice that surrounded by the clear blue skies and open fields, the color around her pupils was electric and undeniably green.

“Mine.” You huffed out, wanting to wriggle your body if only to make a point that you were unhappy with the entire arrangement happening before you. Your slitted eyes trailed over to Wanda once more, but the Sokovian was still oblivious to your heavy stare.

“Yeah, she’s yours, dorogaya. But, she’s also friends with Daisy.” Natasha smiled understandingly, her hand on the small of your back guiding you closer into her side. She wraps you up entirely, her cheek falling onto the top of your head as the both of you steady your glances on Wanda, and apparently Daisy. You decide quickly that you don’t like the latter. “She’s still yours, nothing is going to change that.” 

“I wanna go home.” You pout, aware that you’re being petulant, but not willing to change your mind as you detangle yourself from her arms and collect the softball without so much as a nod of acceptance from Natasha. 

It takes seventeen steps exactly to end up directly beside where Wanda’s standing with Daisy, you count each and every one as your feet pound against innocent blades of summer fresh grass. You’ll miss the softness that squishes beneath your feet when winter rolls around and everything becomes muted and harsh, but for now, you’re content to overlook the beauty of this moment in favor of getting out as quickly as you can. 

“Hey, utenok.” Wanda smiles sweetly down at you, her hand brushing against your forearm as she attempts to draw you into her side. You shrug off her touch, lips settled into a scowl as you make your way toward the bag packed with everything you could possibly need for not only the dogs, but for yourselves. You’ve been snacking all day, the tupperware of strawberries and pineapple nearly empty as you and Natasha had shoved your mouths full of the fruit an hour into your park visit. 

“We’re going home.” You say curtly, already holding onto the two solid purple leashes that would soon be attached to the solid black collars adorning the puppies necks. Wanda’s eyebrows raise not only in question, but in challenge, your dynamic having lingered in the air since that morning, but you weren’t willing to submit anymore. 

“Oh, are we?” She hums, both her and Daisy turning to watch you as you beckon Fanny and Lucky to your sides, fingers already clamping around their collars and clipping the leashes to them. You're as gentle as you can be, but Fanny’s wriggling around makes it harder to attach. You sigh in frustration, getting down on your knees to softly coax the retriever into momentary stillness. “That’s my cue Daisy.” Wanda decides to give into your decision, if only to uncover the reason behind your attitude if nothing else. You merely huff when Daisy says goodbye to not only Wanda, but you, her black painted fingernails wiggling softly beneath the setting sun before she’s back to jogging down the path, her ponytail swinging with every step she takes. 

“Nat!” You call for the Russian, watching her frolic through the field like you hadn’t told her you wanted to leave. The softball is between her fingers, and every couple of minutes she throws it back up into the air and lets it crash against her palm. Her sharp eyes find you smugly, but you’re in no mood to let her win. “Let’s go!” 

“I don’t like this little attitude, detka.” Wanda warns evenly, her eyes slitted into dangerous daggers as she peers down at you dominatingly. You merely huff at her stance, only able to picture her standing in such a way in front of Daisy. When you don’t bend like you typically do, she cocks her head to the side, green eyes begging to understand what’s happened in the last ten minutes. “What’s the problem, you were having such a good time.” 

Unable to help the eyeroll that follows her question, you don’t even bother looking up at her as you begin to set your pace for the entrance of the park, both leashes tightly between your fingers. “What does it matter to you.” You mutter, just barely able to step around her before her hand is grabbing onto your wrist and keeping you still. 

Wanda pulled you back to her chest, assuring that you wouldn’t move before she let her words slip against the softest area of your neck, chills falling down your spine as her breath tickled your sensitive skin. Her words were dangerous, calculated even, but all you could picture was her hand on Daisy’s arm when she should’ve been paying attention to you. “I would think about who you’re talking to like that, detka.” She warned, but you merely huffed and tugged your arm free. 

“Leave me alone.” You snapped, fingers curling possessively around the two leashes in hand. Lucky and Fanny, who had been more than thrilled to go on a walk, pulled at their leads with eager excitement, their golden tails wagging in tandem with the other. You didn’t fight against them, letting them lead you in the direction of the entrance, not even craning your head to assure that Wanda and Natasha were following. 

-

Much to Wanda’s annoyance, your attitude seemed to be around for the long haul. Dinner was an awkward affair, filled only with the sounds of silverware clanking against plates and the occasional comment from Wanda who had given you several chances to amend your little issue. You weren’t receptive to any of it, though each attempt dampened your panties that were now stuck uncomfortably to your throbbing core. Her hand had fallen firmly against your thigh halfway through dinner, and she spared you no ounce of pain as she squeezed the sensitive flesh each time you had the courage to roll your eyes at her or even worse, Natasha. The Russian had been merely collateral damage, but every time she chimed in at Wanda’s defense, you found yourself growing more annoyed, but worse than that, sexually frustrated. Despite the scene last night, neither of them had touched you, and with Wanda’s hand lingering so close to where you needed her, that fact had turned you into putty quickly. 

Yelena had come to pick the dogs up just after eight, only sticking around for long enough to inform Natasha of the grueling activities she’d been forced to oversee for her company’s annual donation fair. You’d never understand what it was that Yelena did exactly, but each time she talked about the job that kept her busy and moving, it was always with exuberant pride and happiness. You were happy for her little life that she adored, but you were even happier when she left and you could throw yourself at Natasha with a bruising and desperate kiss. 

Your arms looped around her neck, chests flush together as you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, hardly caring that you were making out with the highest profile lawyer in the world right beside the open window. Anyone who was unfortunate enough to pass by could see how desperately your fingers curled into the curls at the nape of her neck, your hips having a mind of their own as you attempted to push your bodies into one. Natasha was more than receptive to your embrace, but the second you thought you’d won the fight for dominance, she backed you up against the wall, your wandering hands pinned above your head. 

“You’re not mine to have tonight, d'yavolenok.” Her hot and heavy breaths fall across your lips as she settles her forehead against yours, effectively ending whatever you had anticipated to come from the impromptu kiss. You whined, hips arching off the wall and pushing into hers, desperate to change her mind, but there was no winning tonight. The only way you were getting even an ounce of pleasure was through Wanda, and the Sokovian sat unamused on the couch, not even attempting to join in on the game you’d initiated. 

“I want you, Daddy!” You whined, pouty eyes searching for hers, but Natasha had already made up her mind, and as quickly as her hands had pinned your wrists, the touch was falling away and she was walking back toward the couch where her body sank in without protest. Wanda didn’t make any move to embrace the Russian, but it didn’t seem like Natasha had expected her to, because she curled into the arm of the couch and settled her attention on the television, entirely uninterested in your high pitched whines and stompy feet.  

“If you want something, I suggest you end your little tantrum and bring your ass over here, dorogaya. I will not tell you again to cut it out.” Wanda’s voice is stern and cold, but your feet find their way closer to her either way. You don’t ask before you settle into her lap, a pout on your lips as you press your face into her neck and hold onto her tightly. She doesn’t push you away like you’d anticipated, but you should’ve known by now that Wanda would never push you away, still the fear lingers in your mind anytime you push against her authority. Instead of handling you harshly like you’d thought would happen, her hand comes up to cradle the back of your head tenderly while her other hand settles on the small of your back beneath the t-shirt adorning your torso. Her skin is warm, not entirely cold but not exceedingly hot either. She feels perfect against you, but there's more that you want, and she’s making no indication that she’s going to give it to you. “Do you want to tell me what’s got you so fussy?” 

When you don’t answer, Wanda’s fingers tangle into your hair and pull your face away from her neck sharply. A guttural moan falls off the tip of your tongue as your head cranes backward and your eyes flutter closed. Your hips, still with a mind of their own, twitch against the thigh you’ve found a seat on, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your lower belly that rages with a fire demanding to be extinguished. “I made myself very clear, utenok. I’ve been very lenient with this attitude of yours, do not be so foolish as to think I won’t have you over my lap in the next thirty seconds.” 

You whined at her words, hips still grinding against her thigh. You’d never found yourself in this position before, never desperate enough to search for release against her thigh adorned with only freckles and the lingering presence of sunscreen, but there’s not a single coherent thought in your brain that tells you to stop and maintain the little dignity you have left. Your shorts are thin, your panties even thinner as they become soaked through entirely, and each pass of your hips against her skin feels beyond pleasurable. “M-Mine.” You just barely get the words past your lips before Wanda’s pulling at your hair again, provoking a shuddered whine that sounds entirely too high-pitched to have fallen from your lips. 

Wanda’s silent for a moment, but when she speaks again, your cheeks flush pink and you whine in embarrassment. Hearing her verbally address what’s been bothering you makes it seem so pathetic. “Is this little attitude of yours about Daisy?” She questions, the hand in your hair slipping away to instead hold tightly to your chin, forcing your eyes to meet hers beneath the lamplight drowning the living room. 

“Mine.” Your whimper is soft, entirely breathy as you search her eyes, pleading with her to understand. Wanda merely hums, a soft smile gracing her lips that had been pressed into a thin unimpressed line before she’s drawing you closer and slotting her lips against yours in a passionate embrace. You groan into her mouth when her tongue, hot and light, swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t fight her for dominance, instead allowing your lips to fall slack and accept the presence of her in your mouth. She searches every part of you with passion, her hands falling down to your hips at some point, dragging you against her thigh with intent, helping you find a steady rhythm whilst simultaneously distracting you with a bruising and head swimming kiss. 

You only pull away when you can’t handle both sensations of pleasure at once, your head swimming in fuzzy thoughts as your hips begin to stutter desperately against her thigh. Your shorts are equally as drenched as your panties, and you’re sure that with each forced drag of your hips she can feel the wetness seeping into her skin, hot and sticky with desire. You’re so painfully close, but the stimulation isn’t enough. “M-More.” You pant, head thrown back as your eyes flutter closed, your fingers tangling into her hand that’s hanging loosely down her shoulders. 

Wanda merely laughs at your desperation, the sound cruel and entirely condescending as it pairs with your desperate whines and moans. “Oh, honey. Did you really think I was going to give it to you easily? My poor little duckling, no. Either you cum on my thigh, or you don’t cum at all. Only good girls get what they want.” She taunts, dragging her teeth against the expanse of your neck, humming in contentment when you release a shaky sigh, your fingers grabbing at her desperately. 

“I-I can’t!” You cry out weakly, your hips losing their rhythm as you try to chase the pleasure that's ebbing away with each failed thrust. Her hands have stopped guiding you, sitting heavy on your thighs that frame her waist. 

“My dumb little baby needs Mommy’s help with everything, huh?” The Sokovian ridicules, but her hands find a home on your hips either way, beginning to guide your pace again. She’s ruthless, quick with her motions and entirely controlling, but it gets you back at the top of that mountain of bliss in seconds, and your whines of frustrations become moans of desperation. You’re so close, so painfully close that you can taste the wisps of pleasure that dance across your vision, but it’s still not enough. Wanda’s enjoying herself entirely, each rock of your hips forcing your body to roll against her own dripping core, and the sounds of Natasha’s moans fill your ears albiet vaguely, your own pleasure drowning out the sounds of hers. Still, you don’t even have to look at the Russian to know that her hand has disappeared beneath her shorts and her fingers are glistening with her own arousal. “Come on, detka. Cum for Mommy, be a good girl.” 

Your moans become frantic when Wanda flexes her thigh beneath your weight, giving you just the right addition of something more. Thatall it takes for you to fall off the edge and cum on her thigh, your panties absolutely saturated in pleasure when you finally stutter to a stop against her chest. The Sokovian’s moans are broken and soft as her head tips backward and she meets the same fate as you. You sink against her chest, pushing closer into her as you whimper in sensitivity, trying to wiggle away from her thigh and settle fully in her lap. 

“Mine.” You whisper against her skin, inhaling the traces of grapefruit that have dissipated throughout the day, but if you focus on her scent hard enough, the faintest tinge of fruit still linger around the collar of her shirt. Your hand searches for hers, and she allows you to grab onto it easily, guiding up to your lips as your eyes flutter close and you embrace the darkness that comes with it. Her thumb is heavy against your tongue as you bite at it softly. 

“All yours, detka. Just yours.” Wanda promises, her lips ghosting across the top of your head when she adjusts the position she’s in so that she can lean against Natasha’s chest, assuring that you're safe against her chest as her own eyes flutter closed. “Nothing is going to change that.” 

The hand that isn’t held captive dips beneath your shirt again, and her nails scratch soft lines across your spine as you melt further into her, eyes only peeling open when you become desperate to hear the same reassurances from Natasha. “Mine.” Your words vibrate against Wanda’s skin, and the lawyer smiles fondly down at you.  “You’re mine, sweetheart.” Natasha’s hand falls gently onto your cheek, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone as she holds you tenderly. “You’re ours.”

[chestersturniolo]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

based on this request

part two • part three • part four • part five • part six

Warnings; mentions of alcohol/drugs. persistent/pressuring behaviour from a filler character. if this might trigger you please don’t read, or skip this part🫶🏼

•••••••••••••• ~SATURDAY~

The pounding bass of the music could be heard from down the street, and as you approached the frat house with your friend, you felt your nerves tighten. This wasn’t your scene at all—loud, chaotic, and filled with strangers. But your friend had convinced you to come. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” she assured, dragging you along, her excitement infectious despite your hesitancy.

You stepped inside, the hot thick air filled with the smell of booze and weed. People were everywhere—dancing, shouting, laughing. 

y/f/n grinned at you “I’m going to grab us some drinks!” she shouted over the music. “Stay right here, I’ll be back in a sec!”

You nodded, trying to find a spot where you wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. As you stood awkwardly near the wall, you noticed a group of guys at the other side of the room, their boisterous laughter drawing attention. One of the guys eyes landed on you, and a slow, leering smile spread across his face as he adjusted his cap on his blonde messy hair.

You quickly looked away, but it wasn’t long before you felt a presence beside you. 

“Hey there” the guy slurred, his words heavy with alcohol. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?”

You forced a polite smile. “I’m just waiting for a friend” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh yeah? Well, looks like you could use some company” he said, stepping closer, his breath reeking of beer. “How about we get to know each other better?”

You took a step back, your back now firmly pressed against the wall, your discomfort growing. “Uhm-i-no , thanks”

But he didn’t seem to hear you—or maybe he just didn’t care. He leaned in even closer, his voice lowering to what he probably thought was a seductive tone. 

“Come on, don’t be like that. We could have a lot of fun ya know”

Your heart raced with a mix of fear and frustration. Why wouldn’t he just leave you alone? You glanced around the crowded room, looking for y/f/n, but she was nowhere in sight.

“I said no” you repeated, more firmly this time, scowling at the persistent frat boy. But he only smirked, clearly enjoying what he saw as the “chase”

Just as you were about to try and push past him, another voice cut through the noise. “Derek, back off”

Your head snapped up, your breathe hitched slightly at the familiar face. Chris. 

Everyone knew Chris, he had a huge reputation, and he was very popular, effortlessly so. You hadn’t interacted with him much, honestly he intimidated you slightly. But you had a few classes together, you had shared the odd lingering glance. Apart from that you pretty much admired him from afar, which you hated. 

You had scolded yourself many times for it, for admiring a typical “alpha male” frat guy. But there was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was intriguing to you.

Chris strode over towards you,his eyes, however, were focused intently on Derek.

“Chris, what the hell, man?” Derek laughed, though it sounded more nervous now. 

“I’m just talkin to her”

Chris’s gaze didn’t waver. “She told you she’s not interested. Leave her alone”

Derek hesitated, glancing between you and Chris, clearly not wanting to cause a scene. After a tense moment, he threw up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Whatever, man. Just trying to have some fun” With that, he staggered off, mumbling something under his breath.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-yeah” you nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

“Thank you”

Chris smiled, and it was a warm, genuine smile that immediately put you at ease. 

“Derek’s not a bad guy, just… too much alcohol and not enough common sense”

“Hmm” you nod slowly whilst letting your gaze pan the room, feeling your nerves settle. 

“I’m not really… used to this kind of place” you admit

Chris leans against the wall next to you and lets out a small laugh  “Yeah, it can be kinda overwhelming, especially if you’re not into the whole party scene. I wasn’t really into it either at first”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? You seem pretty comfortable here”

“It’s my house, just got used to it i guess” Chris said with a shrug.

Of course this is his frat

“Would you maybe wanna…go somewhere a little quieter? My room is just upstairs?” He suggested 

You hesitated, raising an eyebrow at him, your instincts on high alert. Did he mean to hook up? 

Chris sensed your reluctance and quickly raised his hands in the air.

“Just to talk, I swear” he said, his expression softening. 

“I promise I’m not trying to pull anything”

You bit your lip, weighing your options. There was something in his eyes that seemed genuine, but the warnings in your head were hard to ignore. It’s Chris Sturniolo for god sakes. 

But, curiosity got the better of you. 

“Okay” you shrugged  “Just to talk”

He grinned as he turned and began leading you through the crowd. You followed closely, navigating the sea of bodies, trying to ignore the lingering doubts in your mind. Chris glanced back, his hand extending backwards for you to grab.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before guiding you through the chaos of the party.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you suddenly locked eyes with y/f/n, both of her hands firm around two red solo cups. She immediately stopped in her tracks, seeing you with Chris, her jaw dropped slightly, surprise etched across her face.

You could see the wheels turning in her mind, and before you could even process what was happening, she raised an eyebrow and gave you a playful wink. You shook your head, unable to suppress a small laugh at her antics, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“Don’t!” you mouthed silently, but she only grinned wider, clearly amused by the scene unfolding before her.

With a final roll of your eyes, you turned your attention back to Chris as he led you up the stairs, the sounds of the party growing fainter with each step. 

••••••••••••

MASTERLIST

taglist;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom

[snowballseal]

okay halloween request... PUMPKIN CARVING WITH THE BOYS ? for some of them I feel like it'd be their first time, and for others I think it could get so chaotic and messy 😭 it's always something I've personally enjoyed and look forward to every year, so I'd super interested to see your take on it !

Carving pumpkins with them (LaDS)

Note: LOVED this! This is what I was hoping for this season. I honestly just went with the first idea I had for each, and I hope it suits what you wanted!

Also, there might be a few mistakes because I just really want to post it. I'll go through and edit it later.

Hope y'all enjoy!!!

---

Rafayel

“Rafayel! Hey, wait- No-!”

“Inspiration can’t wait,” the artist declares, twirling his scoop theatrically before diving into his pumpkin. “Sometimes you have to make a mess for the sake of creativity.”

“You can’t just wait ten seconds for me to put the tarp down?” You can’t help but laugh, desperately trying to spread the plastic out before pumpkin guts end up everywhere. And failing, you might add. 

“It’s my studio, it’s used to my mess already.” Rafayel shrugs his shoulders with one of those stupidly charming smiles. “Now hurry! This lighting is perfect for carving.”

“Okay, okay, don’t leave me behind,” you chirp, all but abandoning the stupid tarp. If he doesn’t care about the mess, why should you? “Scoot over, fishie!”

Rafayel easily makes room for you to jump onto the couch next to him. Besides the tarp, everything is already set out. Your pumpkins, the tools, even a few sketched designs you both worked on. While yours are all pretty simple, or classic as you would so vehemently insist, Rafayel’s are intricate and full of life, much like the rest of his art. Much like him.

A warm mix of nostalgia and giddiness swirl in your chest as the smell of pumpkin slowly fills the air. There’s something so satisfying about hollowing out your pumpkin, sticky, orange insides falling to the floor around you. It’s a mess. A huge mess. But that makes it all the more fun. It feels exactly like when you were a kid.

You glance to the side, biting down on a smile when you take in the equally excited look on Rafayel’s face. He looks so carefree in the golden light of the evening, completely focused on the task in front of him, tongue poked out between his lips ever so slightly. So adorable. 

“How are you going to finish if you stare at me the whole time, cutie?”

Rafayel casts you an amused look, having completely caught you in your moment of admiration. Heat creeps up your neck, tinging your skin an adorable shade of pink in his eyes. He loves the rare moment he catches you off guard, leaving you a sputtering, flustered mess. Like now.

“I wasn’t staring,” you try to defend yourself, though your voice pitches up, a telltale sign of your lie.

“Mhm.” The artist’s lips quirk into a smirk and he leans his chin against his hand, eyes never leaving yours. And that only flusters you more.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Heart racing, you give Rafayel’s cheek a playful push, just to break away from the warmth in his eyes, the warmth you could drown in if you look for too long. Though the low chuckle he breathes out against your palm only makes you blush darker. “I was just- I was just thinking. That’s all. And I just happened to be looking at you when I spaced out. That’s all.”

“Hmm, and what were you thinking about?” He presses, leaning into your touch with that infuriating smile, trying to find your gaze, though you keep it stubbornly locked on your pumpkin. 

“Well, I was uh- I was thinking about um- How we could put a wager on who’s pumpkin will look better?” Oh, that’s a stupid idea. A really stupid idea.

And Rafayel knows it, too. He perks a brow, smile turning almost wolfish, “Oh yah? Alright. What would you like to wager?”

Time to backpedal. “Ummm, maybe the winner gets to pick the movie for our next movie night?”

“That’s not very interesting,” he hums, that all too familiar mischievous glint sparking in his eyes, the one that makes your pulse flutter. You’re totally done for. “How about the winner gets one wish from the loser? And they have to fulfill it, no matter what.”

Yup. Definitely done for.

But you can’t back down, right?

“Deal.”

“Alright then, you better try your best, because I don’t plan on losing, cutie.”

“You’re on, fishie.”

What begins as an excuse quickly fans into a real competition. You dive into your pumpkin with a new enthusiasm, as does Rafayel. Even if you have no shot at winning, you’re not just going to give up and let him swipe victory out from under you. You may not have an artistic bone in your body, but surely your determination can make up for some of that.

Or not.

You bite back a laugh when you finally draw back to survey your sad carving. It’s definitely a step up from the ones you carved as a child, in no small part to the skills you’ve developed in handling sharp objects, but it’s nothing jaw dropping. Still, you’re proud of your little pumpkin pal. You do your best to hide him from Rafayel’s curious eyes, determined to have your big reveal.

“Done, yet?” You ask, unable to hide your building anticipation. You’re practically vibrating on the couch.

“Just one mooore…aaaand…” Rafayel pulls back to appraise his work, the look on his face brimming with satisfaction. “Finished.”

“Okay, okay, let me see!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks his tongue, turning his pumpkin away. “We have to do it at the same time?”

“Fine.” You pout, but oblige. “Three. Two. One-”

You both reveal your masterpieces.

And your jaw drops when you see his.

Sure, you expected Rafayel to go all out. The man isn’t just a painter after all. While he doesn’t sculpt often, you’ve seen his work from school and the few commissions he’s accepted, and each one blows you away.

So of course carving a pumpkin is a piece of cake for him.

He’s designed a full underwater scene, the main focus being a somewhat spooky looking angular fish. He’s carved layers upon layers into the flesh of the pumpkin, so with the light inside, it gives the piece a depth, the shadows practically moving with the flickering flames.

It’s stunning.

“I think we have a winner,” you admit with a low whistle, “Yours puts mine to shame.”

“You did better than I was expecting,” Rafayel hums, inspecting yours with pensive expression, as if it were some deep work and not just a silly, little face.

Your eyes narrow, “That doesn’t sound like a compliment, Raffie.”

“It is,” he insists, though you can see the teasing glint still in his eyes when they meet yours. “Your line work is clean and you used a lot of details. I’m impressed, really.”

“Mkay.” You shake your head, amusement curling in your chest. Even if he’s making it up, you’re still proud of your work. “So, what’s your wish, winner?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” Rafayel says, giving you an all too mischievous wink that tells you that whatever he has planned, it certainly won’t be good. “I can’t let this opportunity go to waste, now can I, cutie?”

---

Zayne

“I’m really okay,” you grumble under your breath.

“I’d prefer to check myself, if that’s alright,” Zayne murmurs, hand held out expectantly.

A blush spreads across your cheeks. There’s really no point arguing with him, you know that, but you can’t help but feel a touch embarrassed.

It was just meant to be a fun night. Both of you finally had the time off, so you spent weeks planning the perfect fall night. You would carve pumpkins and watch the classic seasonal movies, just like you did when you were kids. You’d gotten everything ready before he even came over, hot cocoa, a fall scented candle, everything. It was going to be perfect.

Until you go to actually carve your pumpkin, and end up cutting your finger. You, one of Linkon’s best hunters, fumbling with a simple carving knife. How could you not be embarrassed?

And, of course, Zayne immediately switched into ‘doctor’ mode, dashing whatever hopes you had of breezing by the incident.

“Your hand,” he insists again, slipping into his usual professional tone. It’s only when you give him a sharp frown that he softens a bit, voice taking on a soothing warmth, coaxing you to listen, “Please, my love.”

With a defeated sigh, you give up your injured hand, “Okay. I really am fine, though.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, as your doctor.”

You almost shiver when his fingers circle your wrist, his touch overwhelmingly gentle, his skin cool against yours. It almost feels like a chilly autumn breeze brushing your skin. You watch, heart fluttering uneasily, as he examines your finger. It’s nothing too bad, you weren’t lying. You’ve definitely experienced worse as a hunter, but you also know Zayne to be overly cautious with you. He would put you on bedrest for the most minor fever if he could. And some days, you’ll let him, since it means he’ll spend the day taking care of you, but you’d rather tonight not be like that. Tonight you just want to have fun and enjoy the season with him.

“It’s nothing concerning,” he hums eventually, “We’ll simply apply an antibiotic and wrap it for the night.”

You practically deflate at that. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you in a long, relieved sigh. Zayne’s eyes narrow a little at your dramatics, amusement burning in their depths. He gives you wrist a slight squeeze, thumb brushing thoughtlessly over your pulse.

“Were you that worried we would have to reschedule?”

“I mean, a little, yah.” You shrug, cheeks going red for a new reason. “It’s already hard to find a night when we're both not busy, you know? I’ve been planning this for weeks…”

“Well, we certainly can’t let your plans go to waste.” Zayne says, somewhat teasingly, the tiniest smile flickering along his lips. “Is your first-aid kit still under the bathroom sink?”

You nod. With one final squeeze, he slips away to go retrieve it. You turn your gaze to the untouched pumpkins on the table, letting out another sigh. It really has been a long time since you’ve done this. You remember the times when you were young, when you, Zayne, and Caleb would carve pumpkins while your Grandma would bake the seeds. Afterwards, you would all settle in and watch a movie, tucked up in thick blankets with massive mugs of hot cocoa. You remember you would always wedge yourself between the boys so you could hold the snacks…

Maybe that’s why this felt so important to you. Maybe doing all this was a way of keeping their memory around. And a way of keeping him around.

“Are you alright?”

Blinking, you jump when the couch sinks beside you. Your eyes flash back to Zayne, a forlorn smile pulling at your lips.

“Yah, just thinking about when we did this as kids, you know? With Caleb and Grandma,” you hum. Zayne nods understandingly and reaches for your hand. You let him take it, mind still lingering on the past. “I don’t think I’ve carved a pumpkin since that last time we did it together. It never felt right without you…”

Zayne stays silent as he cleans your cut. You hardly notice the sting of the alcohol, keeping your eyes focused on his face. The focused draw of his brows. The slight purse of his lips. A shadow of something you can’t quite describe passes over his eyes, something worn and aching.

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t continue the tradition…” He murmurs, voice tight, as he applies the antibiotic.

“No need to apologize,” you chime softly. You let your gaze fall to his hands, watching the way he works, efficient and quick, yet devastatingly gentle. Always fixing things, even when it’s not his fault. “From now on, we’ll make sure to keep doing it, yah? It was just on pause for a little bit. I bet Caleb and Gran will be happy we’re bringing it back.”

The doctor stills as he finishes wrapping your finger in a bandage. He traces the edges of it, thoughtful and slow, before lifting your hand to his lips. They brush tenderly against your knuckles, a whisper of a cool touch.

“I’m sure they will be, though I’m certain Caleb would scold you for being so careless.”

You snort, eyes crinkling, “Yah, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Though I bet you’ll make sure of that anyways.”

“As your doctor, it’s part of my job to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” Zayne rumbles, his breath warm against your skin in contrast to his touch. “Speaking of which, change the bandage once a day and reapply the antibiotic. If it begins to look infected, please come see me at the hospital.”

“Yes, doctor,” you answer, nose scrunching a little impatiently, “Now can I have my knife back? We need to get carving!”

“Will you be more careful this time?”

“Yeeeess.”

Zayne bites back a smile, “Good. If you cut yourself again, I will have to confiscate all your knives. I can’t have my favorite patient getting hurt at home as well as at work.”

“Zayne-!”

---

Sylus

“What’s all this, sweetie?”

A gleeful laugh escaping your lips, you dump an armful of materials on Sylus’ table. He raises a fine brow at you, looking mildly unimpressed as you spread it all out.

“We’re having a pumpkin carving contest at work!” You explain, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So I decided we’re going to make a night of it! I got the pumpkins, carving knives, a fall scented candle, for ambiance of course, and a vinyl with my favorite halloween tracks! Also for ambiance, but I thought you might appreciate it, too.”

“And if I already have plans for the night?” Sylus hums, leaning his hip against the table as he surveys your bounty.

“You’ll reschedule them,” you sing, stretching up on to your toes to curl your arms around his neck with an absolutely innocent smile, “Because you loooove me, right?”

The tilt of his lips stretches into a full smirk as his hands settle firmly on your hips, his voice low and teasing, “My, what a brave kitten you’ve become. It almost sounds like you’re not asking.”

“Sooo…is that a yes?” You peer up at him questioningly, still holding the innocent facade.

“Hmm…” Sylus hums, as if mulling the decision over. You fuss with the strands of silver at the nape of his neck, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you can manage. And despite what he might say, Sylus has never been good at denying you. So, carmine eyes dancing with a touch of fondness, he softens into your touch and concedes, “I suppose I can rearrange my schedule just this once.”

Though that’s what he said before, and this certainly won’t be the last time either.

Still, you let out an excited squeal, dragging him down to press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ah, we’re going to have so much fun! Let me lie out the tarp, I know how much you like this table.”

Sylus chuckles as you jump out of his grasp to get everything ready. It’s like watching a little bird flutter around, rearranging its nest to perfection. You move as if he might change his mind at any moment, though he subtly offers his help, using his evol to set the vinyl. The music crackles softly in the air before it smoothes into the familiar tunes you adore, only adding to the buzzing excitement in your chest.

Once everything is ready, you drag him to sit down beside you. Sylus lets you push him around, amusement curling his lips at the unbridled enthusiasm in your voice.

“Okay! So I got everything we need. Even stencils, though to be honest, I’ll be really disappointed if you use one. I really want to see what the leader of Onychinus can create. Have you carved a pumpkin before?”

You plop down on your chair, round eyes set on him expectantly.

Brow perking, Sylus huffs, “What do you take me for? An uncultured heathen?”

“A little.” You bite back a giggle at the deadpan scowl that earns you. “I’m kidding! Kind of. It’s not like you’ve told me a lot about how you grew up and all that. And I don’t really care, not for now at least, but I figured it’s better to ask.”

“How considerate of you, sweetie,” he hums sarcastically. His eyes shift over to observe the pumpkin you’ve set him in front of, head tilting ever so slightly in thought. “While I didn’t carve one when I was young, I’ll admit that after seeing them over the years, I grew curious. Luke and Keiran insisted on having a contest one year, so I decided to join.”

Now that, you believe. Sylus could also be remarkably lenient with the twins at times. You’re still not exactly sure of what kind of relationship they all have, but it’s certainly cute at times. You can just imagine the boys begging Sylus to join them and him giving in begrudgingly.

“Good,” you chirp, snatching up a marker from the table, “Cause I really want to win this, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Wouldn’t it be considered cheating if you were to submit a pumpkin carved by someone else?” Sylus still follows suit, picking his own marker and setting to work. “What is the prize you so desperately want? You are aware I could just buy it for you myself?”

“One, no, it’s not cheating. They said it could be a family submission, so for all intents and purposes, you’re my family in this.” You try really hard to ignore the look Sylus gives you at that, your cheeks already tinging a soft pink. You’re quick to move on before he can tease you, “Two, the prize is a set of tickets to that new movie that’s coming out on Halloween. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about. And three, it’s not as fun if I don’t earn it!”

“You know, sweetie, there are other ways you could earn-”

“Shush!” You cut him off, ears burning the same color red as his eyes. “Just start carving!”

Sylus chuckles, but obliges. The two of you fall into comfortable conversation as you design and carve, talking about work and the twins and all the plans you have for the season. For the most part, Sylus just listens. Your excitement is nearly tangible as you talk, lighting up the room more than any light could. And it’s quite entertaining to watch you gesture so animatedly as if you’re not holding a knife in your hands. 

You eventually focus in, though, falling into the groove of carving out your design. It’s been too long since you’ve done this, you think to yourself, but it’s just as fun as you remember. And getting to look over and see Sylus working with the same level of dedication he gives everything else? Well, you’re not sure a more perfect night exists.

“Aaaaand…” You draw back, surveying you work with narrowed eyes, before clapping your hands together. “Done!”

Sylus, who had been done for a while, raises a brow. He subtly leans over, eyes scanning your carving. Biting your lip, you watch, delight warming your chest when you catch the flicker of surprise pass through his eyes.

“Is that…Mephisto?”

“Yes! Isn’t he so cute?” You twist the pumpkin so he can see it more clearly. While it’s maybe a little rough around the edges, “I think I captured his essence pretty well.”

Sylus leans back, lips twitching with a suppressed smile, “It certainly is…accurate to his character.”

“I’ll take it! What did you carve?” You jump from your chair and drape yourself over his shoulder. And the sight in front of you makes your jaw drop. Because of course this is Sylus, and of course Sylus is good at practically everything he does. “Is that a wanderer? It looks so accurate!”

“It seemed to suit the theme.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing, though a tiny smile twitches at the corner of his lips, betraying his satisfaction with your reaction. “So which will you submit to your little work contest?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, resting your chin on his head. 

Sylus huffs, reaching up to squeeze one of your arms, glancing up at you with a smug look, “Perhaps you can think about it over a movie, hm? We still have much of the night left, afterall, and I did move around my schedule for you.”

Something warm flutters in your chest, and you nod, “Yah, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. Then, shall I grab some wine?”

“I’ll grab the blankets!”

---

Xavier

“What are we doing again?”

“We’re carving pumpkins!” You cheer excitedly, dashing back into the room with the pack of carving knives you bought. “You said you’ve never done it right? It’s basically a right of passage!”

Xavier sits perched on your couch. Two large pumpkins rest on the coffee table in front of him, on top of a rather large tarp. There’s no way you’re getting orange stains on your rug after all, but getting messy is half the fun. You drop down onto the couch beside him, biting your lip to hold back some of your giddiness.

“And what do we do with them once they’re carved?” Xavier asks, peering down at his pumpkin as if it might attack him suddenly, like some kind of Wanderer.

“We put them outside your front door, so everyone can see.”

“Why?”

You shrug, using your teeth to break through the packaging of the carving set (though you definitely have scissors somewhere). Xavier watches you carefully, wariness shifting from the pumpkin to your feral techniques. You just shoot him an unabashed grin when you successfully get it open.

“I think people used to do it to scare away bad spirits. Now it’s just a part of the season.” You carefully lay out all the tools, going through a mental checklist of everything you need. “We carve pumpkins, bake the seeds, and watch scary movies.”

The mention of snacks makes Xavier perk up. A glint of curiosity brightens his sleepy, blue eyes. “Baked seeds? Like the ones sold in the stores?”

“Yah, but way better,” you hum, “We can season them however we like! I like to make them how my Grandma used to, but we can also try some other seasonings if you want?”

“I’ll rely on your expertise,” the hunter murmurs with a small, teasing smile, “You seem to be quite the master of this season.”

Your cheeks flush a faint pink. You do love this time of year. You always have. There’s something about the chill in the air, the scent of pumpkin spice drifting from the cafes, the perfect crunch of the leaves under your boots. All of it just makes your heart feel so…happy.

And now you get to share it with your favorite person. Your partner. Your star.

How could you not love that?

“Okay, first things first, we draw our designs.” You snatch a sharpie from your pile of tools and hold it out to him.

Xavier takes the pen, looking almost hesitant, “And it’s meant to resemble a face, correct?”

“It can be whatever you want,” you tell him, “Most people try to do scary faces or silly ones, but I’ve also seen plenty of tombstones and moons, stuff like that. That’s the fun part, it’s all up to you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination then,” he murmurs, as if the concept is completely foreign. Which, honestly, given his straightforward tendencies, wouldn’t be surprising to you.

“Exactly.” You lean over and nudge your shoulder against his playfully. “Just have fun, Xav. We don’t even have to put them outside if you think your pumpkin will get bullied. This is just for us.”

Xavier huffs out a faint laugh, some of the tension finally slipping from his shoulders. “One might think you’re doubting my artistic capabilities.”

“Xavier, I once turned in some paperwork that you doodled on and Captain Jenna asked if my nephew was visiting.”

You watch with a rather delighted smile as his ears go positively red, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he tries to move right past your truthful jab, “Shall we begin, then?”

Of course. You don’t even hesitate in snatching up your own marker, if only to give him a moment of peace, even though you really want to tease him further. Cradling your pumpkin in your lap, you start by mapping out a classic jack-o-lantern face. You don’t want to do anything too fancy and actually make him feel bad. This isn’t about making the best one, after all, it’s about doing it together. And the classics are classics for a reason, anyways.

Every so often, you steal a glance at the man beside you. There’s something divinely sweet about the moment, the contented breath in the room, the slight shuffle of your sweaters brushing against each other every so often. 

It almost surprises you how much Xavier seems to get into it. His brow furrows ever so slightly, eyes taking on that serious gleam they only get when he’s focusing. The sleeves of his sweater bunch around his elbows cutely, like a little kid trying to stay clean, though you can already spot a small fleck of orange on his cheek.

How adorable…

“Shouldn’t you be more focused on your work?” Eyes never leaving his pumpkin, a small smile tilts the corner of Xavier’s lips, his ears still a pretty shade of pink. Embarrassed by your staring but confident enough to tease you back a little now.

“Hmmm, but it’s so fun to watch you,” you tease back, tone dripping with something soft, “And you have something on your cheek, by the way.”

Xavier blinks, eyes widening a fraction. He quickly swipes at his cheek - the wrong cheek - and glances at you expectantly, to which you shake your head.

“Here, let me-” The hunter freezes when you lean across the couch, reaching toward his face. You don’t miss the way his breath falters, or how his skin flushes even darker when your thumb brushes against his cheek. Drawing back, you give him an amused grin, “All gone. Just a little pumpkin. Now, back to carving, mister.”

Your grin only grows wider when he grumbles and turns back to his pumpkin, as if ducking his head can hide his blush from you. For someone who’s so impassive most of the time, he’s so easy to fluster when it’s just the two of you. Like a cute little bunny that doesn’t want to admit how cute it is.

Biting back a giggle, you turn back to finish your own carving.

It doesn’t take long for you both to finish, since neither of you went with particularly complex designs. You went with a spooky face, sharp teeth, horns, the works. And you’re definitely proud of how sinister it looks.

Xavier’s also turns out much better than you were expecting, all his experience with swords and daggers really paying off in a strange way. It’s adorable really. You can’t help but smile when he turns his pumpkin to reveal a small star with a smiley face on it. It’s a little wobbly and uneven, but still absolutely cute.

“That looks great, Xav! He’s so cute!” You gush, tracing the outline. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, unable to hide his own glow of pride, “So now what do we do?”

“Noooow…we bake the seeds!”

---

I'm incapable of writing short blurbs apparently, which is really annoying. Sylus' was my favorite though. Best spooky boy.

[reallyromealone]

This request is random and it’s all up to you if you want to write it

So say muzan makes the upper six to watch over his infant son and I’d imagine it be chaotic

Like baby reader cries whenever akaza carries him, hates doma and throws his toys at him, maybe his enjoy chasing hantengu (which would lead to hantengu to run away crying), maybe gyokko would teach baby reader about art, maybe for gyutaro he’d be a decent care taker while daki is confused on how to take care of baby reader and kokushibo is baby reader baby reader favorite person and likes to be carried by kokushibo

This is totally up to you if you want to write it

Ohohohoobnonoo

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Muzan was a very attentive father despite himself, his son; his /heir/ was his world.

(Name) was precious and perfect, given anything he could desire in the world.

An absolute papas boy.

So when the moons had to watch the little bundle...

It was a nightmare.

"WAAAAAAH!" (name) screeched as tears rolled down his face, smacking the demon angrily as his barely present fangs bit at Akaza, not harming the demon in the slightest.

"Please behave, our Lord will be home soon!" He tried soothing the babe who wailed louder.

Doma was treated no better though instead of crying it was violence.

"Please little Lord, I just wanna be your friend~" Doma said playfully as he shook a raddle infront of the little one who looked absolutely furious that he cult leader was touching his rattle "ABABABA!" He screeched and smacked his hands against the tatami mat and the blond cooed but glared when a stuffed toy hit him "that's very rude little lord~" Doma said and lifted (name) who immediately tugged at his hair with force "why are you so full of hate~!" He said with almost sadness in his voice "I'm the best one here!"

"Dada!"

"He's gone right now little one!"

(Name) was /facinated/ by hantengu and followed him around everywhere, Shakey little feet as the upper moon tried to get away from the little one, tiny Muzan picking up speed wit his waddles as the poor demon tried running away.

And that's when they learned little (name) could crawl on walls.

"GET AWAY!" He said anxiously and (name) made loud happy baby noises.

Gyokko looked fond as the little one finger painted, messy and colorful and proudly showed it to the other, it was a mess but he could see a vague shape of Lord Muzan based on the black blob with little red eyes.

"Very good little one" (name) beamed at the praise.

Gyotaro was an excellent care taker, soothing the little babe for his nap as Daki played dress up, she wasn't sure how to care for a baby having never had done so but she always thought infant clothes were precious, the siblings watching him as he sleeped on a blanket.

But out of all the moons, (name) always prefered Kokushibo who sat in silence reading as (name) sat in his lap drinking his bottle, the demon glancing down as the babe pat his arm "do you wish for me to read to you?"

"Ababa..."

"Very well..." Kokushibos voice was deep and relaxing to the boy, reminding him of his papa in a way and Kokushibo was reminded of his own children with (name).

Rarely did he think of them but occasionally he wondered what lives they led.

He wondered what life (name) would lead.

The babe sneezed and Kokushibo was confused as a daisy bloomed from the tatami mat.

Well then.

[cosmic-expressions]

❝ MARIGOLDS ♡꒱

ೀ ⋮๋࣭⭑ i'll support you forever

dan heng x fem!reader, fluffy smut; cowgirl, some light marking, overstimulation; yall needy for each other, it's messy, chaotic but it'll make sense after I drop part2 words: 443 (man.) a/n: hi hello! this is part1 of a smol thing I thought would be cool to write but anyway enjoy <333 reblogs, feedback, etc is always appreciated!!! love ya <333

the slapping sounds have been going on for hours now and you’re sure the whole crew is hearing how good DAN HENG is doing you. do you care, though? absolutely not.

moaning desperately, you hold on to him, arms over his shoulders as you pull him in for messy kisses. it seems you can’t get enough of him (and that’s true), so desperate and needy for him and his touch. aeons, how much you missed being in his arms.

“d-darling! oh- darling, i-!” DAN HENG can’t speak clearly, words slurred together as he too, is getting lost in the pleasure. with his lips on yours, DAN HENG is swallowing every moan and whine of yours, groaning between the messy kisses instead.

you ride him like there’s no tomorrow; bouncing on his still rock-hard cock, you can’t get enough of the delicious stretch and how good he’s filling you. with eyes rolled back, you move rapidly and chaotically, doing anything to just feel him and feel good.

“DAN HENG- DAN HENG, fuck-! nnngh-!” all you can cry out is his name paired with curses and sweet, sweet whines of pleasure. “fuck! DAN HENG! dan- DAN HENG!”

kissing his neck urgently, you leave a trail of gentle nips all the way from his jaw to his shoulder. it’s clear you’re getting tired and it’s not surprising; you’ve been riding him like that for a long time now.

“i got you, baby- i got you,” DAN HENG mutters into your ear and kisses your temple, his big hands holding your hips tight. with his aid, you’re able to go on again, crying out his name in wild pleasure that’s taking over you.

DAN HENG has never seen you so desperate, needy, and almost feral, but he’s not really… surprised; he himself has been missing your touch, your pussy, and the way it envelops him tightly each time… that mission was too long for both of your likings. but now that you two have each other’s back in your arms, life is worth living again.

with his hands guiding your hips, he wastes no time and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking gently on it, kissing the hardening bud, and twirling his tongue around it.

you’re screaming, crying in pleasure, so overstimulated, and yet… you’re hungry for more. holding his head against your chest, you encourage him further to suck and take care of your nipples, all while your pussy clamps down on DAN HENG’s cock just right. your juices paired with his cum make it easier for him to slide in and out, stretching you right and hitting all the right spots nestled deep inside...

[PART2] (tba)

[M-MLIST] [HSR-MLIST] [KO-FI]

[xoamiiren]

SPOILED, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 as expected, you came back

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, as toxic as it may be, Ni-ki has you wrapped around his finger… and you like it. PAIRING. Toxic Rockstar!Ni-ki x Supermodel!Reader GENRE. Suggestive, comedy, fluff (?) WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, toxic relationship, cheating

ren note ୨୧ I actually enjoyed writing this one.

─────────

The morning light spilled through Ni-ki’s floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow.

You lay still, wrapped in tangled sheets, the quiet hum of the city below contrasting the chaotic thoughts in your head. The mattress on the floor gave the place a raw, unfinished feel, much like your relationship with him — if you could even call it that.

Ni-ki was too cocky for his own good. You were no better for stroking his ego. He could say the same thing about you. He liked your attitude, your snap, the way you could flick of paparazzi with no care in the world, the way your smoky eyes pierced the cameras with every runway you stepped onto.

You liked the rush. How unpredictable his behavior could be. The way he found your eyes in the crowed at every concert he had, the way he’d lick his lips as he held your gaze, his fingers still effortlessly working his guitar knowing you wished it were you. The curious pit in your stomach whenever you were escorted backstage without him texting you first…

You’d kiss, rushed and rough, bruising each other and leaving marks for later days to come… only where no one could see of course. Then you’d fight, and you’d go back to your boyfriend leaving Ni-ki wanting more, and also knowing you’d be back to give it to him.

You knew Ni-ki had cut off every other female in the game for you, going from his usual routine of bringing home the hottest idols and actresses for the night, to now blowing up your phone when his jeans got too tight.

Call it magic.

You never asked him to do that though, so you handled him accordingly… like a fan. That was until you quickly realized you wanted him too… so bad.

Leaving you where you are now.

With a sigh, you shifted, your gaze drawn to the skyline. It was moments like this that made everything feel so surreal.

Ni-ki stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over. You glanced at him briefly — his dark bangs fell over his eyes, lips pouting, the edges of his face still carrying the softness of sleep. He looked unfairly pretty in the morning, the kind of pretty that made it hard to think straight.

Before you could get lost in those thoughts, he moved closer, the warmth of his body immediately enveloping yours. You felt his lips press gently to your back, the soft trail of kisses making your skin tingle. He traced the lines of the moon phases that ran down your spine, and you shivered at the intimacy of it.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered, voice heavy with reluctance. “I really need to go soon.”

“Don’t…” His breath was hot against your skin. “Stay here.”

You closed your eyes, heart battling your mind.

“I wish I could. But we had an agreement, Ki. And Jake—”

Ni-ki cut you off, his lips brushing against your shoulder where a cluster of inked flowers lay.

“I don’t give a damn about your boyfriend,” he muttered, voice low and dark. “He can have you when I’m done.”

A weight settled in your chest as you let your head fall forward. You could already feel him pulling you under again, his body pressing you down, the heat between you two simmering, all-consuming. It was too much.

Toxic. You knew that...

You opened your mouth to protest, your boyfriend’s name barely leaving your lips again until he groaned, rolling off of you and burying his face under a pillow, frustration seeping from him.

“Fuck, (Y/n)… aren’t you bored yet?”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I never said I was leaving him. You know that…”

Ni-ki sat up, running a hand through his hair, messy bangs falling back into his eyes.

“Alright… fine, I’ll leave you two alone.” His tone was mocking, careless.

You hated how easily he could get under your skin.

As you pulled the sheets tighter around yourself, standing to gather your clothes, he stood too, slipping into his gray sweats.

“Stop it! You always do this, Ni-ki,” you said, frustration boiling over. “Stop acting like you think I’ll choose you—”

He cut you off, wandering the room as his eyes gleamed with that familiar defiance.

“Oh, shut up. Look around, baby. You’re in my apartment, not his.”

The truth stung. You frowned, tugging his oversized shirt over your bare skin, trying to shield yourself from the cold and the reality of his words. You hurried to collect your things, your voice laced with anger.

“You’re such an asshole.”

He smirked, leaning casually against the doorway, watching you with those piercing eyes that always saw through you.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Shut up!” You snapped, pulling on your shorts with an exasperated huff.

The tension in the air was palpable, but as you stormed toward the door, he followed, that smirk never leaving his lips.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” he teased, trailing after you.

You stopped in your tracks, whirling around to glare at him, flipping him off. “No. Fuck off, jerk.”

But before you could reach for the doorknob, Ni-ki caught you, pulling you into a back hug, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

His voice, still rough from sleep, whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

You squirmed, trying to resist the pull he had on you, but your body betrayed you, knees weak under his hold.

“Whatever…” you muttered, already defeated.

Ni-ki grinned against your hair, finally letting you go, the victory clear in his eyes as he watched you leave.

And as you stepped out into the cool morning air, the weight of your choices pressing down on you, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep letting him pull you back in.

Nishimura Ri-ki was too spoiled for his own good.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Carl Gallagher x male reader

Carl flirts with him every chance he gets. But one day the reader flirts back and he freezes up.

When the Tables Turned

Pairing : Carl Gallagher x M Reader Tags: Flirting, Fluff. Word count : 777 Y/n: Your name  L/n: your last name

It was a typical day in the Gallagher household, a chaotic symphony of mismatched sounds and messy lives. The sun barely peeked through the dirty windows, illuminating the clutter and the occasional flying object that signified a Gallagher squabble. Y/N had been a part of this chaotic world for a while now, friends with Ian, and somehow having found a home amidst the uproar that was the Gallagher family.

Carl Gallagher was a force of nature. He was wild and unpredictable, a spark of energy in the house, always seeking thrills and pushing boundaries. Known for his charming grin and confident swagger, he had made it a habit to flirt with Y/N at every possible moment—joking about their compatibility, bragging about his latest escapades, or simply teasing them with playful banter.

"Hey, Y/N," Carl shouted from across the room one evening, his eyes bright and mischievous. "If you need a partner in crime, you know where to find me. I mean, who wouldn’t want to commit a little friendly arson with me?"

Y/N rolled his eyes, a smile creeping onto his  face. "Sorry, Carl, I have morals. Jury might be out on you, though."

"Oh, come on! I’d only set the house on fire a little bit. Just a tiny blaze. I promise I won’t let you get burned!" he shot back, a twinkle in his eyes, making it hard for Y/N to resist the playful banter.

This was their routine—playful exchanges followed by Carl's relentless charm. It was endearing, in a way. But this time, Y/N felt a wave of courage wash over them. There was something exhilarating about the banter, and maybe they could turn the tables just once.

Days went by, and with each passing moment, Carl continued to flirt with him, seeming to revel in the way he teased back. They knew he liked the attention, and they couldn't help but play along for fun. But ever since Y/N started flirting back, Carl’s confidence began to chip away bit by bit.

One evening, as the chaos in the Gallagher house reached a new level Y/N found Carl alone in the kitchen, raiding the fridge.

“Hey, Carl,” Y/N called, leaning against the door frame with an easy smile. “Looking for something to eat? Or just trying to find another excuse to flirt with me?”

Carl’s head snapped up, caught off guard. His signature smirk faltered for a fraction of a moment. “You know, I was just—uh, checking for snacks. Ever heard of a balanced diet? You can’t have fun on an empty stomach, right?”

Y/N stepped closer, determination bubbling in his chest. “Well, maybe if I promised to keep you fueled, you'd consider taking me to a party sometime. You know, you and I could be the hottest couple that place has ever seen.”

Carl opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him. For the first time, the boy who could charm anyone stumbled over his own tongue. He blinked, his expression flitting between surprise and disbelief. “Wait, what?”

“The hottest couple? You know, it’s a compliment. Imagine the chaos we could wreak together! And I’m sure I could keep you out of trouble. Or, at least, help you look good while getting into it,” Y/N winked, fully feeling the thrill over the boldness of his flirtation.

Carl’s cheeks flushed, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. The confident, swagger-filled boy who normally thrived under pressure felt like a fish out of water. “Yeah, um…” he stammered, running a hand through his hair, which only added to his charm. “I… I’m down for that. I mean, yeah, party. Sounds cool.”

His usual bravado had vanished, replaced by a bashfulness that sent a strange exhilaration through Y/N’s veins. He enjoyed seeing this side of him — the boy who was invincible suddenly looked almost... vulnerable.

With the atmosphere thick between them, Y/N laughed, stepping a little closer. “So you’ll bring the chaos, and I’ll bring the snacks? Sounds like a plan.”

Carl regained his composure, a soft grin breaking across his face, the glimmer of his usual charm returning in an instant. “Deal. But just remember, if anyone gets burned, it’s not my fault.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Y/N teased, knowing he had somehow shifted the balance of their playful repartee.

With a smirk and a playful shove, he  turned to leave, leaving Carl stammering a little longer in the kitchen, a smile spread across his face as the warmth of the moment sank in.

[lulujeno]

sk8er boi — park jisung ᡣ𐭩

summary : he was a punk, she did ballet. what more can i say?

warnings : none...? just y/n looking down on herself a lot </3

wc : 3.2k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns!! skater!jisung & older brother!chenle ^^ kind of enemies to lovers...? crush culture pt. 2 SOON, enjoy this for now pls <3

Neo Academy was a world of polished marble floors and perfectly pressed uniforms, where every student moved with precision, like chess pieces in a grand game. The academy prided itself on excellence, and the students knew they were part of that polished image. The neatly ironed white shirts, forest green blazers, and plaid skirts or trousers were more than just uniforms; they were symbols of control, a constant reminder of the high standards expected of them. Everything had to be immaculate, pristine. Perfection wasn't just encouraged, it was demanded.

This was your life. You had mastered the art of composure, keeping your head down and excelling in everything you touched. Academic success came naturally to you, but ballet was your refuge. The dance studio was the only place where you could truly express yourself without the weight of expectations, where you could shine as an individual, not as someone's sister. On stage, you were known for your grace, gliding as though you were weightless, every movement precise and deliberate. Yet outside of those studio walls, you were often overshadowed by your brother; Chenle, the basketball captain and student council president, beloved by everyone.

Chenle was the golden boy, effortlessly charming with a smile that could light up a room and a natural confidence that drew people to him. You, on the other hand, preferred the quiet precision of ballet, a world far removed from the chaotic cheers of the basketball court. You were reserved, focused, content with being in the background while Chenle basked in the spotlight.

Then there was Jisung. He was the anomaly, the skater boy who seemed to break all of Neo Academy’s rigid rules just by existing. He never looked like he belonged in this polished world of straight lines and structured schedules. His uniform was always wrinkled, his tie forever loose, and his hair tousled as though he had just rolled out of bed. His skateboard was a permanent fixture, hanging off his backpack or tucked under his arm, and more often than not, he'd skate through the marble hallways with little regard for the disapproving glares of teachers. If Neo Academy was a meticulously ticking clock, Jisung was the hand that moved out of sync, wild and unpredictable.

Despite how much you tried to ignore him, Jisung was impossible to avoid. He was always around, especially since he was close friends with your brother. Wherever Chenle went, Jisung followed: at the lunch table, at basketball practice, and loitering in the hallways between classes. He had a habit of slouching with his hands in his pockets, flashing that lazy, confident grin that always seemed to irritate you. He didn’t follow the rules, and worse, he didn’t seem to care. You couldn’t understand him. How could someone so messy and carefree survive in a place like this?

Your friends didn’t share your disdain for Jisung. To them, he was refreshingly different from the other boys at school, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand out. But to you, Jisung was a nuisance, someone who disrupted the perfect world you had carefully constructed. As much as you wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, he was an enigma you couldn’t quite shake. He was everything you weren’t: spontaneous, carefree, and utterly unconcerned with rules.

The day was winding down, and the sun was beginning to set. You had finished your classes earlier but decided to stay back, hoping to find some quiet time in the dance studio to practice without distractions. It was a space usually occupied by various dance clubs during the day, but in the evening, it was often deserted — perfect for the solitude you craved. You walked through the empty halls, your pleated skirt swishing lightly with each step, ballet shoes in hand. The school’s bustling energy had faded, leaving behind a tranquil silence.

The dance studio was your sanctuary, where you could shed the role of Chenle’s sister and the burden of perfection. As you entered the room, the familiar scent of polished wood and resin greeted you. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a golden glow on the mirrors that lined the walls. You set down your bag, exchanging your uniform for the leotard hidden beneath, and tied your hair into a tight bun. Your reflection in the mirror was calm, determined, ready to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music.

The first soft notes of a piano filled the room as you began your warm-up. The movements came easily, your body remembering every pirouette, every plié as though you were born to dance. In the studio, you were in control. Here, nothing could distract you from the elegance of the routine you had perfected.

Or so you thought.

The sound of wheels rolling over tile echoed through the hallway outside, breaking the quiet peace of the studio. You frowned, your brow furrowing in irritation. It didn’t take much to guess who it was. The door creaked open, and without needing to turn, you already knew who stood in the doorway.

Jisung.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, his skateboard under one arm, his blazer slung over his shoulder. His shirt was untucked on one side, his tie hanging loosely in that signature careless way of his. “What, no applause?” he smirked, sauntering into the room with an air of nonchalance, as if he owned the place.

You sighed, your exasperation barely contained. “Can’t you find somewhere else to skate?” you asked, your voice sharp with annoyance.

Jisung grinned, kicking his skateboard forward so it rolled across the wooden floor before coming to a stop near the ballet barre. “Why would I? This place has the best view,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shot him a glare, folding your arms over your chest. “This is where I practice. Alone.”

“Alone’s boring,” Jisung shrugged, moving to sit on the floor, leaning back against the wall as if he had every right to be there. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

You knew better than to believe him, but arguing was pointless. You turned back to the mirror, determined to ignore his presence, even though you could feel his gaze lingering on you. As you began your routine again, the elegant movements came less easily. His presence was like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You tried to focus, but it was impossible to block him out completely. Each leap, each spin felt heavier under the weight of his eyes, and soon enough, your rhythm faltered. A misstep during a pirouette sent you stumbling, your frustration boiling over as you heard Jisung’s barely stifled laugh.

“You’re distracting me,” you snapped, shooting him a withering look.

“Maybe you just need to lighten up,” Jisung replied, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You clenched your jaw, turning back to the mirror with renewed determination. But no matter how hard you tried, the tension wouldn’t leave your body. Every movement felt stiff, and the control you usually held so effortlessly was slipping away. Finally, you stopped, admitting defeat. It was pointless to continue with him there, his presence an unshakable distraction.

Since that night, he’s been a fixture at your late practices, an unexpected yet oddly consistent presence. You’ve gotten used to him lingering in the dim studio as you rehearse. But tonight, everything seemed to be testing your patience — even Jisung.

After multiple failed attempts at the same turn, you finally let out a frustrated sigh and dropped to the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you. You leaned back on your hands, staring at the ceiling as your chest heaved from the effort of hours of practice.

Jisung was still leaning against the barre, watching you with an expression that somehow only deepened your irritation. He pushed off, sauntering over with a lazy grin before plopping down beside you. “That rough, huh?”

You shot him a look, though there was little actual venom behind it. “Why do you keep coming here?”

He shrugged, tilting his head as his gaze shifted toward the mirrored ceiling. “I dunno. It’s kinda fun watching you try so hard.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Try so hard?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You’re always so serious, like you’re chasing some kind of impossible perfection.”

You scoffed, though his words hit closer to home than you’d admit. “Maybe that’s because I have to be.”

Jisung was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. “You know, you don’t always have to be perfect. It’s okay to mess up sometimes.”

You shook your head, your voice quieter. “Not if your older brother is the Zhong Chenle.” You let out a hollow chuckle.

He turned to you, his usual playfulness replaced with something more serious. “Why not?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the unspoken truth heavy on your lips. But somehow, with Jisung beside you, the boy who seemed to defy every rule you’d built your life around, it felt easier to say. “Because if I’m not perfect… then what am I?”

Jisung didn’t respond right away, his gaze thoughtful. Then he leaned back on his hands, his voice soft but unwavering. “That’s not true.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected gentleness in his tone.

“You’re more than just a dancer or Chenle’s sister,” he continued, a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race. “You’re a whole person, y/n. It’s okay to be a little messy, to make mistakes. It doesn’t change who you are.”

His words slipped through the walls you’d spent years fortifying, the weight of your carefully curated life suddenly feeling suffocating. For the first time, you wondered what it would feel like to let go, just a little.

With a wry smile, you raised an eyebrow. “What would you know about being perfect? You strut around like you own the place, and half the time, you can’t even wear your uniform properly.”

Jisung chuckled, the sound light and unguarded. "Exactly! Life’s too short to worry about following every rule. Sometimes you just gotta do what feels right.”

You studied him, intrigued by the ease with which he moved through life, so unburdened by expectations. It was like he existed outside of the pressure that seemed to govern every aspect of your own life. There was something strangely appealing, almost liberating, about his attitude.

“Maybe you should come skate with me sometime,” he said, tilting his head in a way that felt like an invitation to his world.

“Skate?” You echoed, the incredulity evident in your voice. "Chenle’s the athletic one. I’ve never even tried skating.”

He grinned, his excitement infectious. “Then it’s about time! I’ll lend you my helmet and sweats, if that’s what it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “How generous of you.”

“Seriously,” he insisted, leaning closer as if to emphasize his point. “Just one time. You might actually enjoy yourself. Skating’s all about balance, just like ballet. And I’d love to see Ms. Perfect let loose.”

Your heart skipped, caught between amusement and curiosity. The thought of stepping out of your rigid world, even for just a moment, sent a thrill through you. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, y/n!” he urged, his voice earnest. “Give it a chance. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

You took a deep breath, the possibility of freedom, even fleeting, enticing. With a slight nod, you found yourself agreeing. “Fine. But not today. Maybe next time. And don’t let me fall.”

Jisung’s face lit up with a grin, his energy radiating encouragement. “Deal! And don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Days melted into weeks, and your late-night dance practices transformed into a shared ritual. Every evening, Jisung would wander in, his footsteps echoing in the empty studio. His laughter would fill the space as he leaned casually against the barre, teasing you about your relentless quest for perfection. But his presence grounded you in a way you hadn’t expected. His playful comments, his occasional encouraging words, They chipped away at the tension that had been your constant companion.

Tonight, you were so absorbed in practice that you didn’t notice Jisung until his exaggerated yawn broke your focus. “y/n, if you keep this up, you’re going to turn into some ballet statue,” he teased, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

You shot him a mock glare, though you couldn’t entirely suppress a smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, to be a perfect statue.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Statues don’t get to live. Come on, let’s go skate. I promise, just this once, you won’t regret it.”

You hesitated, glancing around the familiar studio. This space, with its mirrors and soft lighting, felt safe. Leaving it felt like stepping into the unknown. But the idea of an adventure beyond the careful precision of ballet was intriguing. After a moment of internal debate, you nodded, dusting off your leotard. “Alright... let’s do it.”

Jisung’s face lit up with excitement, and he handed you his sweatshirt and sweatpants. The oversized hoodie hung loose around you, and Jisung couldn’t resist teasing you, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. Seeing you in his clothes seemed to stir something in him, a quiet connection that neither of you dared to name.

The two of you stepped into the warm evening air, the school grounds washed in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped low. Jisung led you to a nearby park, where skate ramps rose and fell in smooth arcs, casting long shadows in the evening light.

“Alright,” he said, digging a helmet out of his bag and tossing it to you. “First rule of skating: safety first.”

You caught it, eyeing it with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely,” he said, flashing a mock-serious look. “Wouldn’t want anything happening to that pretty head of yours.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you fastened the helmet. “Fine. Now what?”

“Now, you stand on it,” he instructed, placing his own board beside yours and demonstrating with an easy balance. “Just relax. It’s not as scary as it looks.”

You took a deep breath and cautiously stepped onto the board. It wobbled beneath you, nothing like the stable, polished studio floor. “Whoa!”

In an instant, Jisung was by your side, his hand steadying your waist. His laughter rang out, his eyes full of warmth. “See? Not so bad.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but his gentle encouragement washed away your nerves. “Easy for you to say.”

With a grin, he nudged you forward. “Just try gliding a bit. I’m right here.”

Your heart raced as you pushed off, the board gliding forward. The rush of wind caught in your hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt exhilarated. Jisung kept pace beside you, his cheers filling the air.

“That’s it! You’ve got this!” he shouted, his excitement infectious.

You found a rhythm, shifting your weight, and began to grasp the delicate balance it required. This thrill was nothing like the graceful control of ballet, it was freedom, raw and untamed.

“Now try turning!” Jisung called, demonstrating a smooth arc with ease. “Just lean, like this.”

Emboldened, you attempted to mimic him, shifting your weight to one side. But the board wobbled violently, throwing you off balance. In an instant, Jisung’s arms caught you, steadying you just before you hit the ground.

For a moment, you both froze, and then laughter erupted from both of you, filling the quiet park. You were clinging to him, and he was holding you up, his face just inches from yours.

“Thanks for the save, skater boy,” you said, breathless.

Jisung grinned, ruffling your hair. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

As the night deepened, the two of you took turns gliding along the path, Jisung’s hand guiding you each time you wobbled. Your laughter echoed under the stars, mingling with the soft sounds of the evening, and for the first time, you felt like you’d let go of the weight you carried.

Eventually, you both collapsed onto the grass under an old oak tree, the night air cool against your skin. Breathless, you glanced over at Jisung, his chest rising and falling as he lay sprawled out beside you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Okay, fine,” you admitted, a grin creeping across your face. “That was... actually fun.”

He turned to you, triumphant. “See? I told you. You should let loose more often.”

You laughed, feeling something warm inside, a feeling that had nothing to do with skating. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it’s hard.”

His expression softened, and he propped himself up, looking at you with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “It’s okay not to have everything figured out. You don’t always have to be the perfect dancer or Chenle’s perfect little sister. You’re allowed to just... be.”

His words struck a chord deep within you. For weeks, you’d built something with him that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. Beneath the tree, it felt like the walls around you were beginning to fall, bit by bit.

“Thank you, Jisung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t expect him to understand the weight of those words, but they felt truer than anything you’d said in a long time.

You turned to face him, cheeks heating when you caught him looking at you with a grin. A comfortable silence fell between you, the world around you quiet, still. Slowly, he began to lean in, and you closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t fireworks or butterflies. It was something softer, more comforting, a feeling you wished would last forever. His touch was gentle, grounding, and you felt safe in a way you hadn’t before.

Pulling back, Jisung chuckled softly, his playful grin returning. “After that, I definitely expect a front-row seat at your next ballet recital.”

You froze, momentarily overwhelmed. You’d never invited anyone to your recitals; your parents were always away, and Chenle had his own responsibilities. The idea of someone wanting to be there for you, just for you, was both thrilling and terrifying.

“I’ll... think about it,” you replied with a shaky laugh. But a part of you knew that Jisung had become that someone, someone who saw beyond the perfect façade.

And yet, a quiet fear lingered. He was Chenle’s best friend, the carefree guy who never followed rules, while you were the perfect poster child. Your worlds were never meant to collide. Whatever was happening in these stolen nights wasn’t supposed to be anything more than friendship.

As you looked up at the star-strewn sky, a quiet ache settled in your chest. You didn’t know what would come next, and that uncertainty scared you. It was rare for you not to have a plan, and yet, with Jisung beside you, maybe you didn’t need one. A new world was unfolding, one where you could be the dancer but also explore a life beyond the stage. And as you glanced at Jisung, you wondered whether this was the beginning of something new — or the last taste of freedom you’d allow yourself to have.