#i love that he knows as little as we do at all times
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You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.
Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.
"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."
Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.
"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."
A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.
"A date?"
"Uh...y-yea--"
"A date date?"
"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
"A date!"
You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.
Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.
Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.
"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."
A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"
"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."
A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.
You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"
Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.
"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"
You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."
"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"
You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.
You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.
"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"
"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."
You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.
"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."
"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"
"--and sometimes young men have...urges."
You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.
"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"
"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."
"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"
"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"
"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"
"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"
Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.
"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"
"I've bought you these condoms--"
"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"
"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"
"--please-- I have to go--"
"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"
"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"
"...and be home by midnight."
Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.
Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"
"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"
"--language, Yuuji--"
Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.
"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"
"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."
"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."
As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.
You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.
"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"
"Quiet."
#pseudowho#pseudowho answers you#haitch#kento nanami#jjk#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#Papamin by Haitch#Papamin by pseudowho#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#kento nanami smut#nanami fanart#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanamin#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#jujutsu itadori
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BLOT BATTLEMENT (100 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE)
in which he suffers watching you fawn over his overblotted copy who seems to be in love with you.
SUMMARY: after an experiment gone wrong, an overblotted clone of one of the victims has re-emerged. luckily for everyone, it's reasonably powerless and will eventually disappear. unluckily for him, the clone seems to reflect his true feelings towards you.
PAIRINGS: overblot gang x reader (seperately)
WARNINGS: suggestive (for jamil, vil, and idia), slight possibility of drowning (azul), projection for ob!vil
NOTES: this is in celebration of hitting 100 followers! thank you so much for following my work, and for all the comments you have left behind! i will also be rewriting malleus's section once book 7 is complete! on another note, pls invade my inbox if you immediately see that reference from malleus's section, mwah!
"That's enough. If one of you barks one more time, I will have to show you what happens to unruly puppies that won't obey." Crewel sighs and pinched his nose, another hand gripping his baton in irritation. "Unfortunately, we cannot fix this in an hour. You bad doggies need to get along until this entire issue is resolved."
The professor clicked his tongue, shoving the two out of his office. "I have already contacted someone to get you both. Surely, the Prefect has survived both of you once and will be able to do it again. So stay put, and be good. Or else."
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
Seeing his Overblotted self summons waves of shame and embarrassment for Riddle. It was not his best moment at all, and that inky copy is a reflection of his worst flaws and traits. You could imagine how rushed Riddle was to collar his copy in fear that it would hurt others again, especially you who had already dealt with it once.
"Don't make me repeat myself, I demand that I see my King of Hearts, this instant!" It's very much like babysitting a spoiled child, and it makes Riddle so wracked with embarrassment. He cannot control his copy as it stomps and yells outrageous demands to see you. Riddle was really on the verge of collaring it and dragging it back to Heartsyabul when you turned the corner.
OB!Riddle's smile is so wide that it could be mistaken as sinister. "My rose!" Inky blot is smeared all over your uniform as the fake runs towards you. Just as Riddle was about to whip out his wand to stop it, you relax and return the embrace, albeit with a confused expression. Riddle manages to explain very quickly whilst trying to pry off his copy, but you suggest that it is best to let it do what it wants.
What Riddle doesn't tell you is that his copy reflects his desires as well, claiming he is uncertain why it insists on being so affectionate with you. However, it seems to be quite the blessing when OB!Riddle marches to the Heartslabyul dorm to resume its position as Housewarden. In fact, the entire dorm thanks you profusely for being able to manage that little tyrant with a bat of your eyelashes and a gentle voice.
"Trappola, have you not learned your lesson!? Rule #186, you shall not eat hamburg steak on Tuesday! OFF WITH YOUR HEADâ" Tapping lightly on its shoulder, you attempt to placate the copy with a weak smile. "Riddleâ I mean, Housewarden Riddle, Ace has not been able to eat all day and the steak was the only thing left in the cafeteria. He did not have much of a choice." Suddenly, the copy's face softened before relaxing back into its seat.
"My rose, I mustn't bend the rules. If I bent them for one, I would have to bend them for all." It scowls, only sinking further into its chair as you rub gentle circles around his forearm. The entire table stares at you with looks of gratitude and relief, all in agreement that you just saved everyone a tantrum's worth of stress. You hummed at the copy, nodding softly. "I know, dear. May I remind you that rules are there to ensure everyone is happy and safe? If Ace hadn't eaten his lunch, perhaps he might have gorged on the tarts instead."
"I suppose you are right, my King of Hearts."
Riddle seethes from the other side of the table, arms crossed and face on the verge of turning red. It was hard for him to decide whether he was merely jealous, or upset at his own copy rampaging around as if he were the real one in charge. He pauses for a moment as an epiphany comes to him.
Is this what it looks like whenever the Prefect is here to calm me down from my temper?
Even though OB!Riddle cannot use his magic, Riddle is extremely watchful of his copy. It is perhaps the ugliest side of him, and the last thing he wants is an Unbirthday Party ruined and spoiled by ink. They only had to put up with it for a day, and surely, Riddle has enough patience to ride out this episode.
He does have to watch and hold himself back as his copy acts so familiar with you. A hand at your lower back, perhaps an inky kiss on the cheek, and you being referred to as 'his rose'? It should have been me!
When his copy disappears, Riddle takes the time to pull you aside and admit the truth behind the blot's behavior. His jealousy seems to have pushed him into confessing, and he makes it clear that he would rather earn your feelings properly instead of coercing you for affection with potential tantrums.
"Forgive me, Prefect. I apologize for my copy's behavior. I have to tell you the truthâ it was reflecting my innermost feelings. Prefect, I harbor these affections for you and I yearn to be more than friends. You do not have to tell me anything else at the moment. If you wish for time, I understand as well. Allow me to be curt, at least just this once. I like you more than a friend should, and I would hope to hear your response soon." (So polite!)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
What a drag. Does he really need to help monitor his own Overblotted self? If you were able to survive it once, you should be able to handle that huge lion on your own. OB!Leona appears to be nothing but a grumpy lion who answers to no one, only being forcibly dragged around by his original self.
It changes when you show up. Suddenly, the copy springs to life in your presence and is completely disobeying the original.
You are taken by surprise when OB!Leona backs you onto a wall, a clawed hand lightly brushing against your cheek. "Herbivore," He breathed as his green eyes zoned in on you. "You should be more careful when you wander these halls alone." You couldn't help but gulp as he grins, fangs glinting against the sunlight. "You never know who might just be planning to eat you."
But when Leona takes notice of his Overblot's sharp nails cut into your skin, his attitude changes as well. The original takes initiative to pull you away and stand between you both. Perhaps you don't understand the way they bare teeth at one another, taking aggressive stances as if one or the other would jump and claw at their target. It sets the tone for a very tense environment as you attempt to drag them both to Savanaclaw.
It was best to keep both lion beastmen confined in his room. Considering that OB!Leona was focused on getting your attention, it wasn't hard to manage him. It was all that his overblotted self wanted; attention and absolute adoration. Leona, on the other hand, was more so bothered by the fact you smelled too much like ink in his own room.
"Tell me, do you look at anyone else like this?" Having been kicked out of his own bed, Leona could only stare blankly from his couch as his copy kept you trapped against its chest on the mattress. It only served to annoy him further when you seemed to reciprocate the attention it was giving you. "No, only you." The copy smirks, its tail entangled around one of your legs. "Then tell me, why? What do you adore about me?"
You hummed, sighing while your hand began to play with his mane-like hair. "You're brilliant. You're the most cunning lion that I know." Leona swears you were teasing him as you take a quick glance at him, smiling slightly. "And you're the only one that can protect me." With a mocking grin, the copy cups your cheek and returns your gaze to his own. "Tell me more, herbivore."
When the copy finally reverts back to ink, Leona can't help but find some relief in having the bed (and you) all to himself again. The first thing he does is drag you to the mattress and keep you trapped against his chest. You still smell of ink and lion, and it's his job to fix that.
"Go to bed, herbivore... Ha? I don't have to give you an explanation. You're a smart cookie, haven't you figured it out yet? ... Even with all the answers my blotted copy gave you, you're still not satisfied? Hmph, that's not my problem anymore. You're mine now, is that what you wanted to hear? ... Good. Now if that is all, let's go to sleep. You reek of ink..."
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
It had become priority to get Azul's overblotted self into the biggest Octanivelle tank, which also happened to be the most isolated one. While OB!Azul seemed to be temporarily human, he seemed more irate with each second spent on the surface. It only relaxes slightly when it spots you, but his grip on your arm never relents. "Prefect, please. I need the sea..." He's just so needy and in pain. You'd help him, would you?
Azul is absolutely livid. He doesn't want you to see his copy in such a pathetic state. He most certainly tried to get you to turn the other way and march straight home, but you had to hit him with, "Even if it's your overblotted self, I would still help you." It might have been just a small comment, but he takes it as if you would move mountains for him. You weren't making it transactional, and that's practically special treatment for him.
You thought that his overblotted self would settle once in that tank. The copy immediately sheds its human form in favor of his merform, much to Azul's embarrassment. The businessman ready to drag you out and leave that blotted mess to fend for itself when a tentacle had dragged you into the water. Suddenly, you're met with teary blue eyes just before you were submerged. "You didn't plan to leave me here alone, did you?"
And goodness, Azul is just torn between fuming and panicking as his copy drags you further and further down. To make things worse, you haven't even taken a breathing potion! That was more than enough to make the octomer shake off his anxieties and plunge down into the waters after you before you drowned.
"And then what? What exactly were you planning to do once you had the Prefect here?" Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed his arms, unable to even make eye contact with you. Clutching at the little potion bottle in your hands, you do your best to ignore the way that the copy's tentacles seem to latch onto every single limb of yours. Not to mention how they twitch and slowly coil against your skin, or the way that the copy buries itself into your neck with a whine while it ignores its original.
"Why? Why won't you give me an answer?" It murmurs, arms caging you into its chest. You can see Azul's jaw clench, but you cannot exactly tell if he's embarrassed by how pathetic his overblot can be or envious of how it got a chance to be so close. "I'll give you everything. You will never want for anything. All you have to do is say that you'll be mine." The copy grits its teeth as it tightens its grip on you, tearing a surprised gasp from your throat.
"Why won't you surrender to me?"
The moment that this entire fiasco ends, you never see Azul for another two weeks. Every time you go to the Mostro Lounge to see him, he's suddenly occupied with every single disaster known to man. It isn't until Floyd gets bored of the entire thing when you get the opportunity to be tossed into the tank again. It isn't until Azul jumps into the tank after you with another breathing potion to save you, again.
"Please don't speak of that incident, Prefect. I wish you never had to be witness to such a sorry display... W-What do you mean Floyd told you about that botched blot experiment?! ... Don't play with me, Prefect. You can't just say that you'll surrender to me, you'll hurt my poor heart! ... If you dare say it again, I am afraid that the contract can never be broken. Choose your next words wisely, Prefect. Not all agreements have to be in writing."
JAMIL VIPER
Of all the Overblots here, Jamil's was the most... unhinged one, surprisingly. It was also the nastiest, based on how it seemed to disregard everyone around him. Truly, it was the worst of Jamil's envy and wrath towards everyone around him for shaping him as a servant. No matter what Jamil did to snap some sense into his copy's head, it only served to tick it off even more.
When you came to assess the situation, however, you immediately got the sense that the Overblot will not be cooperative unless it gets what it wants.
"Master Jamil," Both copy and original froze, slowly turning their heads to you, who has knelt onto the floor with a small smile. "A frown does not suit such a handsome face. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jamil remains frozen, mentally screaming in his head while his Overblotted self smirks, sauntering towards you with desire swirling in his maddened gaze. "Rise, my diamond. You certainly may do a little favour for me..."
Thanks to Kalim and the coordination of the entire Scarabia dorm, everyone has tricked OB!Jamil into thinking it was the boss of the place (at least for a day, Kamil is super understanding of the situation!). At least someone expected the copy to see through this farce, but OB!Jamil's ego was so stroked by you and everyone around that it seemed to buy into the delusion.
Unlike Leona's copy which was super uninterested with anything that didn't concern you, Jamil's blotted self was extremely irritant with everyone else. Had it not been for you, Jamil would never be able to live down the embarrassment for having such an... unpleasant copy. So far, there have been no disasters while Jamil was occupied with keeping his copy at bay.
It's just that... Jamil has been watching from the sidelines as you are perched on his copy's lap, feeding it and attending to it's every beck and call!
Gripping his knee, Jamil's eyes narrowed onto your flushed gaze as your fingers combed through his copy's hair. If he had envied everything that Kalim ever wase, he certainly envied the abomination wearing his face as it rested its head on your lap. You didn't have to look at Jamil to know that he was seething, but it wasn't as if you could abandon the blotted copy either. It had only been a few hours since it had latched onto you, and this was not the best time to agitate it.
"It seems that I have not rewarded you." The copy sings. Its expression remains content, shuddering at the sensation of your fingers pulling gently at its scalp. "Do tell me what you desire most." Your breath hitched at the copy's purr. You do not react either as the fake Jamil sits up to caress your warm cheek. Biting onto your lower lip, you shook your head. "I desire nothing but to make you happy, master." You swear that you see Jamil's expression strain itself, and you already see how tight he grips his knee.
"Is that so?" You say nothing when the copy leans in closer to you, licking its lips with intent. You should be frightened, and most certainly be running away, but you don't. "You wish to make me happy, then? Is it me that you want?"
All the signs were there. That copy's hand was pressed against your lower back, the other hand was on your cheek, and his face was so so closeâ
Its lips are hot to the touch, and you melt immediately into his hands as he pushes and prods with his tongue. Against the candlelight, Jamil cannot tell if your cheeks were truly flushed red. He watches as your own hands crept up onto the copy's shoulders, pressing and digging nails into its shoulders until you have the strength to push yourself away for air.
You pant as your vision returns to you, meeting the copy's cruel smirk. It is looking down on you, and yet, you do not feel animosity towards it. You only feel disappointment once you recall it was only a fake.
"Or perhaps," A gasp is torn from your throat when the fake grabs your cheeks with a firm hand, forcing your gaze to fall upon a stunned, yet flushed Jamil. The copy smiles wickedly against your cheek, humming with absolute glee.
"Is it him that you want instead?"
You nod, and Jamil's heart skips a beat.
Yeah, no. Our boy Jamil ain't recovering from this. The moment that the blot disappears, you best expect that Jamil ain't letting you leave that room without an answer.
"I wouldn't act coy right now, Prefect. You may be clever, but I have no patience for your antics. Now, are you going to be honest with me? ... Why don't you tell me what you want, instead? What? But you were so honest with that fake only a few moments ago. Where have your words gone? ... You wish for me to force the truth out of you, then? ... As you wish, Prefect. I will give you everything you want."
VIL SCHOENHEIT
This was such an inconvenience for poor Vil, and he hates his copy to the same extent that Azul does. Just like Riddle, Vil feels a sense of shame when he looks at his doppelganger because it was a personification of his insecurities and selfishness. However, at least the copy was very calm and cooperative, perhaps even melancholy until it sees you.
Seeing Vil's Overblotted self again doesn't change the fact that the fake was still so beautiful. You are actually stunned into silence when you are brought before the two. Grim swears you have stopped functioning because being in the presence of two Vil's is too much for this world.
If you weren't watching yourself, you would've passed out the moment OB!Vil cupped your cheek with its inky hand and smiled down at you. "Ah, Prefect..." You gulped as it cooed at you, much to Vil's alarm. Its surely dangerous, but danger loves you so much and you can't pull away from it.
OB!Vil never lets you out of its sight after that. Wherever you went, the blot would follow. It seems to be fixated on being in your sights, which was not exactly a problem when you brought yourself to Vil's quarters where you would wait the entire thing out. It does concern you, however, just as the copy seems to grow more and more unhinged with each second that passes.
Vil is not exactly envious of how intimate the fake acts with you. Rather, he's extremely perplexed and observant of the way it pines for your attention and praise like a lovesick puppy. However, it isn't always so sweet. It isn't so sweet when the copy comes so close to scratching at your skin as it begs for your honesty. It certainly does not appreciate being lied to.
"Tell me, Prefect. Who is the fairest one of all?" It asks for the hundredth time.
Vil cannot exactly explain how he found himself watching his copy cage you into his own bed. It has straddled your hips, pinning your hands down onto the mattress without a care for the mess it makes. Ink drips and spills over his silk sheets, his pillows, you. Your neck has been smeared with ink, and so have your clothes. His copy is smiling with ink dripping from its lips and its hair, an obscure yet beautiful mockery of the original.
The original's breath hitches as your lips part into a breathy smile. You look like absolute art, and his fake looks like an absolute mess. "You, Vil. You're the fairest one of all." Vil shut his eyes at your quiet whisper, and he wishes that you stop bending yourself over for this pathetic imitation of him.
The copy snorted in dismissal, a sinister grin taking over its features. "Ha!" Even as it grips your wrists tighter, you know better than to believe that the copy would dare hurt you. Your heart pounds, however, as it leans in closely to your face with desperation on its breath. "Why do you say such, Prefect? Why do you say such when you feast your gaze on the ugliest part of me?" A choked breath stills the copy, its grin growing more crooked and maddened. Ink splashes against your cheek, and the copy pathetically takes a long finger to smear it away, only obscuring your features further.
"Are you trying to lie to me?" It croaked, maintaining that desperately smile.
Vil thinks you'll push it away. Vil thinks that you think of his copy so hideously, and so ugly. Vil thinks that you see him as ugly.
And you dispel all those cursed thoughts as your hand reaches out to cup the copy's cheek, dirtying your own hand in turn. "You've pushed yourself so hard, Vil. You've worked hard for everything you dreamed of." The copy's crazed expression remains, and more ink pours into you. Still, you return it with a gentle smile of your own. "Even when everyone complains, you're only pushing them because you care the most. Perhaps you act like the evil queen everyone makes you out to be, but that crown is yours by right."
Vil's heart stops. He still cannot bring himself to look at the sight. It's that cynical part of him that believe in your acting skills, that this was all a ruse to satiate his fake. The knife digs into his chest further as you hummed sweetly. "Your flaws are just as beautiful to me."
Only then does Vil bring himself to look at his copy. It is still smiling, eyes so wide as blotted tears fall upon your skin. You are covered in ink, covered in the ugliness that had consumed Vil, but you accept it all. You embrace the mess, just as you embrace the ugliness of Vil's heart. "Do you truly mean it, Prefect?" Its whisper shakes with hope, very much unlike the weariness and suspicion it held towards you the entire time.
Both you and the copy slowly glance at the real Vil whose eyes had widened at your softened gaze, filled with nothing but adoration. The heart in his chest ached, and he imagines that his entire body is melting into your hands. You are his weakness, after all.
"I mean every word, Vil."
When the situation died down, Vil takes the time to walk you back to Ramshackle Dorm. However, he makes a quick stop when the moon is set at the right spot, just to cast down light on your starstruck gaze.
"To think that the ugliest part of me revealed such feelingsâ you deserve an appropriate confession, at the very least. The affection that my fake expressed to you was no different to what I feel for you. I realize... that you meant more to me than you should have. I am not a benevolent prince, nor am I pure as the white snow. Still, I offer my heart for you to keep in a box. I only ask you to accept me, for all my beauty and ugliness... Ha, potato. My lovely potato, you're mine..."
IDIA SHROUD
Surprisingly, Idia got along the most with his Overblotted self. It wasn't as if he was driven by pride or competitionâ there was just some sort of acceptance when OB!Idia was first manifested. There wouldn't have been much issues.
At least, that was what he wanted to believe before OB!Idia set his eyes on you. It sent Idia into a choking fit when he saw OB!Idia approach you with such cool indifference, acting like one of those aloof protagonists from those dark otome games that he saw on a playthrough once. It's the way that OB!Idia leaned down towards your ear, muttering something about his boredom and suggesting to retreat to his dorm.
Idia took an hour to recover before sprinting to his dorm to ensure nothing has happened. All he found was you sitting on OB!Idia's thighs (it insisted!), and Idia swore that his copy was smirking at him.
OB!Idia was nothing to be concerned about. It wasn't as if it had the power to open up the Gate of the Underworld, which so happened to be far away. Other than the fact that the copy seems so... forward with you, Idia tried his hardest to ignore it.
"You look tense, Prefect." The copy smirked as it gently backed you against the wall. It places an arm right above your head, the figure leaning down at you. Behind the mask it wore, you can almost see it smirking down on you. "Don't I scare you?"
If this was the copy's attempt to intimidate you, ha! You got it covered! Idia is practically weak to any sort of romantic notion, it should surely send his overblot into a flustered fit! Boldly, you close in the gap slightly, crossing your arms around his neck and smiled at him. "Not at all, Idia." Much to your surprise, however, the copy takes its hand to cradle the back of your head, gently nudging your face closer until you barely a hair's worth away from kissing his mask.
"Are you sure about that?"
Suddenly a flare of red catches your attention as you glance to the side to see a fuming Idia who snuck over to your side. Wrapping a possessive arm around your middle, the original Idia glared at the fake and gritted his sharp teeth. "Listen here, bucko. You ain't getting more action than me, so buzz off!" He towers over you, hair threatening to burn orange if this fake continues to toy with you. "You wanna play, huh? Only one of us can have her, and you're nothing but a MagicMart knock-off!"
Cocking its head to the side, the copy snorted. It didn't seem to relent its hold it had on you. Instead, it leaned in towards Idia with a taunting stare. "Yeah? Why don't you ask the Prefect, hm? Seems like our little guest is enjoying all the attention." Both of them glance down at you, who seemed to be busy turning red to even give a proper response.
The blotted copy takes its hand to cup your cheek gently, but it was only a ruse as it forces you to look at Idia, eyes hazy with want. The way your breath shudders makes the original itch to steal you away from the copy.
"Don't you?"
Take that ending however you will. Idia does end up confessing to you once his copy is reduced to ink once more.
"Don't give me that look, Prefect. You totally loved seeing me get all riled up. And don't you dare deny you hated the idea of getting sandwiched by two of me... Please don't make me say it. I ain't good at the 'asking out' part, but I don't wanna skip over to straight up dating. Ugh, fine. I actually liked you for a really long time, and oh Great Seven, I just hope that I'm saying the right stuff to get onto your route. You're the only route that I wanna pursue."
MALLEUS DRACONIA (Book 7 is incomplete at the time of this posting)
Had it not been for the lack of potency in the blot, OB!Malleus would have been the end of NRC. Lilia was not a stranger to Malleus's ability to change the environment based on his mood. Even when this was a mere fake that they were dealing with, no one really wants to find out the consequences of upsetting the copy.
Malleus looks down on his Overblotted self. It was a flawed part of him, but nonetheless, a part of him that he was most disappointed by. The Fae Prince should know better than to act so wickedly, but the original understands. He tries to be as sympathetic as he can be for the copy, but it was only indifferent to what the original demanded of it.
Being the concerned friend that you were, you went to see them both despite all warnings from Sebek. Admittedly, Malleus would rather you be as far away from this poor imitation as possible. He does not want to see you hurt, let alone be at the mercy of his copy. Alas, it is too late now. The blotted copy will not allow you to leave.
Malleus hid his frustrations and anger underneath that collected demeanor. The only thing keeping him from doing anything rash was the fact that you were cradled against his chest. With a protective arm holding your waist, you were seated upon the fae's lap. The copy is forced to look up at him as he sat on his makeshift throne, and the fury behind its eyes is most evident, based on the way its hands grip your knees as if it were the only piece of you left.
Alas, it is only a stalemate now. With each tug that the copy made at your lower half, Malleus would simply pull you closer to him in turn. The fae hummed, glaring down at the copy who seems indifferent to intimidation. "Prefect, you may only say the word and this fake will be no more." He grunted, and you resist the urge to whimper as the copy's lips turned upwards into a smile. "If you wish for it, Prefect, I will disappear." It cooed, and the glint in its eyes reflecting the madness of blot.
Hesitantly, you shake your head and only feel Malleus's nails brush against your waist. "I don't want you to disappear." You whispered meekly, uncertain of what to think of the fake's lovestruck gaze. "Prefect, do you know what I can give you?" Even as the fake is forced down by the original, it still has the nerve to reach out and cup your cheek. "I can grant your dreams. I can make your fantasies a reality. I can give you everything."
Malleus lets out a breath of warning, leaning down to your ear as he narrowed his eyes at the fake with restraint. "Do not listen to this mockery, Prefect." His words are tinged with a hint of desperation, as if he had something to hide, something to shield you from. No matter how much he attempts to intimidate the fake, his blotted self presses on with a cruel smile.
"Prefect, all you have to do is love me, fear me, and do as I say. I will be your servant to will, to rule, to ruin." You are frozen as Malleus loses his temper, swinging out his staff to dispel the fake once and for all. Much to his dismay, his blotted self backs away just in time as its glowing green eyes lock onto yours once more.
"All you have to do is stay with me, forever."
The campus lets out a collective sigh of relief when the OB!Malleus disappears. However, suddenly, the entire campus is holding its breath again when Malleus doesn't immediately let you leave his room.
"Prefect, I beseech for your forgiveness. I fear that the fake has reflected my most selfish desires... You have nothing to fear, for I shall never withhold you against your will. How could I do such a thing when I am already so weak to your whims? ... Perhaps you do not have to stay forever to render me your servant. I pine for you, Prefect. My heart has already been yours long before I noticed. Please, grant me your forgiveness, Prefect, lest you cast me aside and I shall let my feelings fade with time."
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#viaviavie writes#twst#twisted wonderland#overblot gang#overblot x reader#overblot gang x reader#overblot#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader
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Put Your Head on My Shoulder
Pair : husband!jk x wife!reader
Genre: marriage au
Warnings: sex scenes nothing too wild
w/c: 10.3 k
âPassports?â
âCheck.â
âYour backpack?â
âCheck.â
âMy wallet? Your wallet?â
âAlso check.â
âOh! Toothbrushes?â
The man didnât reply as he stares at you in disbelief. âBabe,â he sigh softly. But youâre too busy checking your luggage and your backpack. Not wanting to leave anything important behind.
âOur toothbrushes Kook, do we have them? Oh god donât tell me you forgot. Remember Krabi? The one where we forgot our toothbrushes?â With frantic hands you unzip the front part of the luggage to check for the said items.
âMr. Jeon Jungkook?âÂ
You let out a sigh as you look up to see why your husband didnât reply to you. Instead of catching him getting as busy as you are, he is actually looking at you with an amused smile on his face. âThere we go, finally youâre looking at me.â
With a grunt you stood facing him, eyes rolling and the little lips pout started to form on your face with wrinkles on your forehead. Jungkook leans forward as he puts his hands on your shoulders, âBabe, calm down. Weâre not going to the other side of the world for months. Itâs your hometown. I have packed our toothbrushes, and so what, if we left them behind? We can buy them.â Jungkook squeezed your shoulders in hopes to loosen up the knotted muscles as youâre too tensed.
You are always on the edge every time the two of you went on a long trip together. But today it seems to get worse.Â
Youâre used to be the reckless traveler, someone who is hungry with spontaneous adventures and unplanned vacations. But all of that were before marriage, before you had to take care of another human being.
Ever since with Jungkook, you always feel the need to have everything perfectly arranged. You never admitted it but you somehow feel inadequate at attending the need for your husband.
Well, compared to your peers, you, as a wife, is on an 'okay' level.Â
Most of your friends who got married earlier than you certainly are on the master level. You love them, really. But thereâs a time when you think that theyâre being too good to be true.
Theyâre the perfect housewives, the spot on clean home all year round, birthed beautiful babies, cooking up home cooked meals that would make top chefs cried. Theyâre the trophy wives. Â
You and Jungkook are a working couple. You work on the typical working hours, from 9 to 5. The house? You think the house look perfect because you have such a wonderful husband who loves cleaning and doing the laundry.
Unlike you, Jungkook works around his own schedule hence his working time is more flexible than yours. Plus, heâs working from home most of the time. If itâs up to you, the house would be a mess. For the food part, on weekdays, itâs take outs.Â
You are matured enough to understand that people will show things they wanna show. But somehow, somewhere in your heart, it stings when you thought you are not good enough as a wife.
You have no idea how you managed to catch Jungkook as your husband because that man is amazing. He never complains. Not once. Never degrading you for not being the typical wife.
As if the role is reversed in your household. He has been the one that begs you to rest so he could help with the house chores. He sometimes prepared dinner, although claiming heâs not a good cook but if thereâs one warm hearty meal on the table after a long day at work waiting for you, you are in no place to complain.
"Well, I'm pretty independent too, you know. Mom and dad were busy and hyung was always studying somewhere. I know how to take care of myself, and now I can take care of you," This is Jungkook's favourite statement.
He really is an endearing human being. Youâre still learning to take care of him as well. Which is why you get fidgety because youâre so afraid of screwing everything up.
âI know but we don't have to buy it. Why are we wasting money? Once we're back home, we gonna have extra set of toothbrushes, which we don't even need in the first place.â You yaps under your breath as you double check the snacks in your backpack.
Rummaging the backpack for the nth time. Ointment, mint breath strips, lip balm, protein and choco bars. Jungkook must munch on something, and he needs sugar. Thatâs the least you can do. Providing him snacks.
âWill you please look at me?â Jungkook hunched down to be on your eye level. He puts his hands on yours as your knuckles grip the luggage trolley. A little smile adorning his face at how his big hands envelope your tiny hands, looking perfectly fit together. He rarely tells you but he absolutely loves it when he gets to wrap your fingers with his palms. Feeling the warmth emitted from you.
But right now your hands are cold, and Jungkook knew that youâre not just anxious. Heâs not sure yet, so heâs trying to ease you to tell him. Silently pleading with his cooing and his bambi eyes for you to look at him back.Â
He winced a little when your eyes locked on his. Jungkook knows very well from the look of his wife just gave him. Immediately, he cups your face and lean closer.
âHey, hey what is it? Can you tell me?â he whispered as if you're both are sharing a secret that only the two of you know. In the hectic airport with so many people come and go, Jungkook grounded you by just being close to you.
âItâs just, you donât have to come with me, you know. I hate dragging you into my family matters. I know youâre busy and the fact that you have to leave everything for a week is just,â you heave a sigh as you put your hands on his chest. âJust not sitting well with me. I can go there all by myself,â you rambles.
âDonât say it like that,â Jungkook is not gonna lie but your words hurt him.
It hurts when youâre trying to not include him into your personal matter. He is your husband, he admits it was hard to break through the wall you built. It took him enough time to get a glimpse of the side that you always hide.
He wants to be your tree, he wants you lean on him and trust him. Your problem is his problem too. It pains him to see you stress over something and he just wanted you to share it with him.Â
You have never been the one who wears their emotions on their sleeves, so Jungkook have to observe you carefully. He learns with the frown on your face, the wavering voice, the way you avoid eye contact. He is still learning because you are like an enigma in an endless maze, he used to be the one who wanted to decode your thoughts, and the one that can walk into the layers of your maze without feeling lost.
But now he just wants to understand you, wants you to know that he accepts all of your quirks and wandering thoughts.Â
God, he loves you so much and how could you unconsciously treating him like he is a stranger.Â
âDonât you dare say it like Iâm not supposed to be there. Donât exclude me from your family affairs. Theyâre my family too,â he emphasis on every word and it softens you.
âAlso, I will not allow you to go so far away all by yourself, not when Iâm still capable to go everywhere with you. I know, youâre the most amazing and independent woman but I want to be there,â Jungkook gently butts his head on yours, an act of comfort he always do when youâre not listening to him or whenever you feel a little insecure, itâs like saying Iâm here and donât shut me away, his stern yet soft statement makes your view a bit glassy.
He kissed your cheeks before leaving a fluttering peck on your lips. To soothe your nerves. Â
Itâs true that Jungkook had insisted on coming with you to your hometown, despite his busy work. Piles of unfinished videos and songs in his studio at home were left behind immediately the moment you said you have to go back to your hometown for a family business.
Jungkook knew what family business youâre talking about because it has been your constant topic during dinner. Itâs a series of events. Itâs started from your aunt is getting a divorce - not that it has anything to do with you but somehow all of your family members had agreed on an urgent meeting.
You figured out from your cousin that they also wanted to gather in remembering your late Grandpapa.Â
It was a long overdue event. It kept getting pushed back because somebody got married, someone just gave birth, your cousin is still studying overseas and much more excuses.
Perhaps they realized now is a good time, or perhaps because everyone is coming to support your aunt. You decided that you must come, you missed everyone so dearly.
The other solid reason why you have to be there is because youâre the closest grandchild to your Grandpapa and it has been years since you visited your Grandmama. Even Jungkook hasnât met her yet.
She couldnât make it to your wedding since she had fallen ill at that time. The wedding was a small ceremony with only close relatives and friends. And you didnât stay longer because you and Jungkook have to fly back immediately.Â
You missed your Grandmama terribly. Your grandparents practically raised you when your mom and your dad were economically and psychologically struggling in being a parent. Not that you blame them, because now, you're at their age when they become parents for the first time and you started to understand them.
Grandpapa passed away before you met Jungkook, way back when you were in high school, and sometimes it always hits you at how he would love to know the amazing man you called your husband.
Since he loves teasing you when you were little, and you canât help but think Jungkook and Grandpapa would be close buddies with their teasing antics.Â
You told Jungkook some of the memories you had with your grandparents, you also shared with him the moment when you have to move out from their house to live back with your parents. You still remember the sadness looks in your Grandpapaâs wrinkled face like it all happened yesterday. You did visited them occasionally. During the holiday season or when you have a long school break. But, it was not enough.
Honestly, Jungkook is as excited and definitely nervous in meeting your Grandmama. He heard a lot about that amazing lady from you and heâs afraid of her acceptance. What if she didnât like him? What if she decided that Jungkook is not enough for her granddaughter? From your stories your grandma sounds like a warm person but what if sheâs cold to him?
âThank you Jungkook, for coming with me,â it came out like a whisper in his ear. Squeezing your hand, he pulls you to walk beside him as he push the trolley to the boarding gate.
Although you were reluctant on dragging him along, his presence still brings you peace, and you need him.
âOh babe, I forgot to show you. Remember yesterday, Taehyung came over with Yuna?â Jungkook is pulling out his phone from his back pocket. Wanting to show you the video of your friendâs baby.
âOf course I remember. They left before I reached home.â Sighing, recalling how you rushed to get home yesterday just to meet Yuna, the little bundle of joy.
She is just at the perfect age when curiosity takes over her and babies are the best at this age. Itâs not like you can meet and play with her everyday. First of all Taehyung loves hoarding his daughter all to himself - selfish - and secondly because of your work.
Yuna is going to forget her godmother since she only spent her baby days with Jungkook, her godfather.Â
âIâm very sure Yuna misses you just as much as you miss her. Look at this! Sheâs sleeping so comfortably on our desk.â Jungkook squealed as he keeps playing the video of Yuna in her pink fluffy onesie, (the one that you bought for her) drooling on your desk next to the files. She was sleeping on her stomach and as Taehyung is about to pick her up, she whined.
Making both of you giggle at her cuteness.
âGod, how does she sleeps soundly on that hard desk? You know my ass is still sore from that night you pushed me onto it?â Jungkook smirks like a little tease he is, while youâre trying to act like you have no idea what it is that heâs trying to tell.
âNo, honey, I donât know,â of course you know but youâre trying to focus on anything, not the memories of your tangled sweaty bodies, falling files and your stationary box topple over on the floor.Â
Sensing that you're getting shy, Jungkook keeps on teasing you. He is relentless.
He leans over the armrest, whispering in your ears, âawe come on. How can you already forgot how hard you pulled my hair, the scratches on my back, babe? Still stings. God, the way you ride me on your desk, ugh you're so hot,â he sighs heavily and you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, you're sensitive spot.
You snapped your head so fast at your husbandâs bold action. You are in an airplane for heavenâs sake! You can feel the warmth blush creeps on your face. You pinched his arm.
âThere are hundreds of people on board, and weâre gonna be here for hours! No one wants to hear our bedroom story!â You hissed and Jungkook is silently yelping in pain. He hates the fact that he loves pain especially from you.Â
âOkay, okay, okay!! Sorry, baby, Iâm sorry. Iâll behave!â He grips on your wrist to stop you from keep abusing his arm.
The grin on Jungkookâs face is as wide as yours but suddenly your face feel in horror as you remembered you rode Jungkook on your desk!
You had sex on the desk of where Yuna fell asleep on! Slept on her stomach! Face down on the spot of Jungkookâs ass! Baby Yuna! Taehyungâs sunshine! On your desk! Did you cleaned it up?!
A loud gasp coming out from you as these thoughts bombarded your mind. You covered your mouth with your hand while the other one is grabbing Jungkook.
âWhat, baby, why? You wanna vomit?â Jungkook quickly leans forward to grab the paper bag from the pocket seat. You stopped him, half laughing and half crying, youâre trying to explain to him the sin you two had done but it all came out as broken sentences.
Not wanting to disturb other passengers but wanting to scream at the same time is probably the hardest choice you have to make at this moment. With wide eyes, Jungkook look at you in bewilderment.
âWhat is it? Should I be worried? Want me to get help?â Jungkook is in between laughing along with you or be scared that his wife is losing it. Honestly he has no idea.Â
âShit, babe. We had sex at the desk! Yuna slept on it! What are we gonna tell Taehyung? Should we tell him?â Wiping your tears while youâre mouth is still widely laughing is a confusing sight for Jungkook but once he gets the gist of what youâre trying to tell him, he, too let out a loud laugh.
The seat next to you gave the both of you a weird look and and grunts can be heard. Your husband straighten his back on the chair and clears his throat as he apologize loud enough for the row in front of you to catch it.Â
Leaning back to you he grabs your hand and trying to muffle the noise as you both keep on giggling like little kids. Youâre still terrified on the inside, thinking of Yuna and how are you supposed to tell her father? Kim Taehyung is going to cut your husbandâs dick once he knew.
âJeon Jungkook, stop laughing! This is not funny,â your attempt to be serious was blown away by your own wheezing.
âIn my defense, youâre the impatient one,â he scrunched his nose with his lips jutted towards you.Â
âYou couldâve carried me to our bed!â you hissed.
Jungkook gives you a betrayed expression as he puts his hand on his chest. As if youâre accusing him of the crime both of you committed.
âExcuse me maâam, I clearly remember youâre the one who chanted more baby, please I want you in me, now,â he mocked your moaning. Your face is in your palms as you keep shaking your head.
âI did not sound like that. Please, Jungkook at least tell me we did clean the desk.â Banging your head on his shoulder while he snorted.Â
âWell, your welcome, because your amazing house-husband did cleaned the desk. You blacked out the moment we got into our bedroom. Meanwhile, your dutiful husband, wiped our crime scene clean with a hand sanitizer. I told you that sanitizer will come in handy.â This is one of the moments youâre so happy to have such a clean freak as your husband.
âOh god, thank goodness!â You showered his cheek with kisses.
âBut do we have to tell Taehyung though?â Biting your lower lip, you secretly wished he is as evil as you. Because you donât want to freak Taehyung out.
Just as you thought, called it soulmate behavior, because Jungkook just shrug it off and said to not tell him and even if he did, Taehyung would understand anyway.
He had done a lot worse back in his college days and Jungkook have all the receipts as his roommates.Â
Laughing softly you shakes your head. âCanât believe we tainted Yuna like this. What kind of godparents are we? Unbelievable,â your eyes are getting droopy as the airplane breaking the clouds.
Jungkook is taking off his grey hoodie for you because you always catch cold easily, especially when travelling in an airplane. Thankfully heâs wearing a long sleeve shirt inside.Â
He did reminded you to wear an extra layer but it seems like you forgot. Snuggling as close as you can, you sleep almost immediately with your head on his shoulder. Jungkook chuckled at the sight. You sleep so easily. Be it on the bed or in a moving car, you are unfazed.
The first time you went on a road trip together, you fell asleep even before Jungkook gets to drive out of the city. The road trip was a lonely one for him because you slept all the way.Â
He is relieved, relieved that you laughed. You were fidgety and anxious with going back to your hometown before the flight and he is just really, really, really grateful that you had a good laugh just now.
He managed to take the stress off of your mind. Always.
âWhere is she, do you think she forgot, Kook? Do we have to get an Uber? Ugh, why is she not picking up her phone?â Punching your phone with your thumb, you texted your cousin, asking on her whereabouts.
Not that youâre ungrateful for having her coming down to pick you and Jungkook from the airport, but it would be much easier if she told you beforehand if somehow she couldnât make it. You wouldâve requested an Uber and youâre probably would be home by now.Â
âBabe, sit down, please. Maybe thereâs a heavy traffic or maybe she left her phone or something. Itâs not like weâre waiting for hours anyway. Itâs not even an hour yet. So, will you please, donât stressed out over this, hum?â Grabbing your hand, he patted on his lap, telling you to sit on him.
Engulfing his arm on your waist, he took a breath of your natural smell on your neck and leaving a kiss on the skin. For a married guy, Jungkook is still shameless with showing off his affection on you. Grabbing you, leaving kisses on your face, smelling you. To him itâs an announcement that this girl is mine.Â
He sneak a peek on your unanswered texts to your cousin. Seeing you used a lot of emojis and silly meme stickers in your previous conversation with her as youâre scrolling down.Â
Adorable ice queen. You rarely replied cute emojis with him. He pouts as he placed his chin on your shoulder. Feeling a little jealous with your cousin.
âNo reply yet?â The vibrating sound from Jungkook tickles you but since youâre still stressing over the unanswered text, you ignored it.
Heâs now feeling the jet lag starting to kick in. Resting his head on your shoulder, shutting his eyes. When he said you donât even need a comfortable bed to sleep on, well, it is the complete opposite for him. He just needs you.Â
A ping was heard indicating a new message on your phone, and you quickly checked it as a soft laugh coming out from your mouth. Laughing at the meme your cousin sent you. She apologized for not getting out of work earlier because now, she has to face the traffic.
As a truce for her mistake she bought you a dozen of your favorite donuts.Â
Jungkook flinched and scrunching his eyes as he felt a movement from you.
âHey. Sorry, baby.â You noticed the flinched and instantly place a kiss on his cheek. As a token of apology for waking him up. By the groggy grunts, you know heâs awake now. Guilt rushed in you because you know he hates jet lag as it always gets the best of him. Youâre scratching his scalp as your other hand is still holding your phone.
âSheâll be here in ten. Youâre right, sheâs caught in a traffic jam.â
Jungkook just hummed at that because all he wanted right now is to lay down next to you and have a good sleep. Smiling at your husband, you keep scratching the back of his head.
A habit you gained from living with Jungkook. He purrs like a kitten full with milk every time you do that. With one hand you replied to your cousin to just step on the gas like a daredevil she is.Â
Your cousin, Suri, is only one year older than you. Sheâs the mature cousin in many senses but it is always you who she runs to when life is being the big bad wolf.
Like the one when she had to tell her mom - your aunt, that she lost her earrings. They werenât just any earrings, it was inherited by your grandmama. Being the curious rebel, Suri took them from her mom jewelry box and showing them off at school.
What a way to go when she lost them during recess. In panic, she dragged you and both of you spent hours searching for them in the school yard, at the field (she doesnât even went to the field), at the cafeteria, basically every nook and cranny of your high school.Â
Living just a few houses away, you and Suri were practically attached at the hip, always hanging out together after school, so nobody really questioned why you and Suri was late on that day.
The search was fruitless. Finally she decided to come clean at her mom, which was your earliest idea before the both you dipped your heads into the bushes.
Staying by her side, you comforted her by holding her hand. She was scared shitless and as expected she got a âgoodâ earful nagging from your lovely aunt. But you still stayed by her side, only leaving when she fell asleep, with wet pillow because of the tears and snot.Â
Just like highschool, right now you feel the need to be by her side in facing the divorce of her parents. She acted like she was fine when you called last week, from her defeated voice, you know. You know her probably better than she knows herself.Â
She was the one who found out that her dad is cheating on her mom. She kept it to herself for months. Months!
Not telling a soul because sheâs giving her dad a time or a chance to make things right. Her dad, doesnât even know his daughter knew. Perhaps she was in denial but not until she broke the news to you. You advised her that she should tell her mom.
Well, clearly she did took your advice because now everyone is here to support your aunt and your cousin.Â
From far you can hear a screeching sound which you donât have to listen carefully to know that it belongs to Suri. Sheâs loud. Even Jungkook is wide awake now. Blinking like Bambi with his big eyes, his hands are still on your hips. He looks so adorable you canât help but planting kisses on his nose and his cheeks.
âIâm sorry you have to wake up now. I promise you will have the most wonderful rest at grandmaâs. But for now we have to settle with Suriâs car, yeah?â Whispering softly as if you could break him if you speak too loud.
Jungkook just looks so fragile when woken up from a nap. Youâre not sure if he managed to catch all the words you just said because he keeps blinking with a slightly parted mouth. Youâre so tempted to kiss him silly when suddenly somebody tap your head from the back. Itâs Suri.Â
âDamn, did I just cockblocked you from kissing him?â She said with a smirk on her face. Her short hair really does look better in person, she was so unsure during your facetime, feeling it would make her head look big.
Getting up from Jungkook, you give her a tight bear hug.
Feeling ignored, Jungkook grabs the end of his hoodie that youâre still wearing.
âOh Jungkook, my brother! How are you? Man, look at this healthy long black hair. What did you feed him? He looks more buff nowâ She patted his shoulder like he is her little brother, looking amused at his hair.
âKeep it longer boy, your wife has a long hair kink.â She sends you a wink as if whatever that she just spilled is normal.Â
Jungkook tilt his head to you with a wide grin on his face.
âI know, she just doesnât want to let go of them, her hair pulling game is getting stronger,â he chuckles. He noticed that you have become a lot more touchy especially on his hair ever since he let it grow, long enough to cover his eyes.
And not to mention how you keep on pulling them like your life is hanging on it during your heated sessions. Suri just clapped in amaze at Jungkookâs reply.
The ride was a peaceful one, perhaps Suri is as tired as you are. It's relatively far from the airport to your grandmaâs.
You keep glancing out the window to stare at the view. The street is still so familiar with nothing much has changed. Sitting on the passenger seat, youâre devouring the donut from your favorite bakery like a madman because theyâre still taste the same. You save some for Jungkook since he already passed out at the back seat.Â
The picture of you sitting next to Suri surely brings back your young adulthood memories. Only now with an additional passenger at the back.Â
You turn to check on him from time to time. He looks so adorable, you covered him with his hoodie after you took it off from you and his head leans on the window. Suri noticing you keep glancing back, smiles fondly.
âYou can sleep with him at the back.â Suri breaks the serenity that lingered in the car.
âNo, itâs fine. Heâs fine.â Pulling your left leg closer until your knee reaches your chest. A habit of yours every time youâre in a car.
âSeriously, you keep glancing at him like a mom watching her baby sleeps. Does he really can only sleep with you being near to him though?âÂ
âYeah, he told me he was completely fine with sleeping alone before he met me. But he couldnât anymore now.â Smiling so wide you remembered the night Jungkook confessed that.
Suri cooed and dramatically clenched her fist on her chest. âHeâs romantic. You used to despise these hopeless romanticsâÂ
âKeyword, used to.âÂ
Both of you and Suri let out a small laugh, and the smile on her face faded before she let out a sigh. âI missed you. You have no idea how bad it was for me to deal with this shit all by myself.â
You put your hand on her shoulder to comfort her. You know it wonât bring much difference but what else can you do?
âMy dad is so stupid, Iâm telling you. He asked me to check for his PayPal account when his mistress is still texting him at that time. Imagine how fucked up it was for me? I had to pretend I saw none of her filthy texts.â Suri speaks in a low voice, sounded defeated.Â
âI almost broke up with my boyfriend. I keep thinking his âI love youâs is as fake as my dadâs when he used it to my mom.â She rubs the bridge of her nose and you listen to her, letting her venting out all of the frustration that she couldnât do through a video call.
âMy mom acted like sheâs fine and all. She told me she saw it coming. But she didnât say shit because of me. How stupid. Itâs not like I am a teenager. Hell, they shouldâve part ways when we were in high school. At least I get to hang out with the kids from the âdivorced parentsâ club.âÂ
âNo, you were banned from joining clubs because you made a bad joke to one of them kids." Youâre trying to lighten up the mood. But it was an exaggerated statement.
âFuck, yeah I forgot about that one. Well, ainât I was a troubled child, the sign of a messed up parenting was already there,â
You laugh at that and as the laughter died down, Suri looks at Jungkook through the rear-view mirror for a few seconds before her soft gaze falls on you.
âI pray he treats you right, I pray that your love will never fade. I donât think I want to get married, not now at least. Love sucks but seeing you two, Lilo, looking this happy, makes me wanna believe in it again.âÂ
âLilo? I havenât heard that nickname in a long time. You either sappy or drunk to call me that,â you giggles at your cousin. Intentionally ignoring the heavy mood because you hate it when your cousin is sad and brooding. Like sheâs giving up.
âSee, this is what I meant. You, was never serious about love, you hated it more than I do. I thought youâre pranking me when you told me about him. It was me who was in a long relationship but look whoâs wearing the ring now,â she slightly punch your shoulder as the car stopped at the red light.Â
Unbeknownst to you, the passenger in the back seat is listening to your conversations.Â
Jungkook was half awake after he heard laughters and giggles coming from you and Suri. He wants to fall back to sleep but he decided to listen more when you told Suri he couldnât sleep without you.
Jungkook blushed under his hoodie that he had to pulled to cover his face. He knows he shouldnât eavesdrop on your conversations with your cousin. Since it sounded intimate when Suri talked to you in a low tone.Â
But then again, he couldnât bring himself to sleep after Suri called you Lilo. He never heard of that name before, and he made a mental note to ask you about it later.
Heâs eager to listen more as you and Suri are talking about him right now. When Suri said she prays he treats you right, he wanted to profusely said yes, yes he always hope heâs treating you right. Always trying to be the right man for you, thatâs all he wanna be.Â
He couldnât calm his wild heart when he heard his name coming from you, speaking softly.
âJungkook, is so endearing. Iâm sure he had it rough when he first met me. I was mean to him. I shut him out. But he keeps coming back, keep asking me to let him love me properly. Truthfully, at first I was annoyed. I told him he likes the idea of me, not the real me. I keep telling him that he would hate me at the end of the day,â you sigh, thinking back to the day you left him with a hurtful looks on his face.Â
Jungkook is screaming internally. No I would never hate you, I canât hate you.Â
He wants to hold you so bad right now. Scrunching his eyes with a heavy exhale coming out of his nose. Jungkook knows his love story wasnât the greatest love story ever told but it was the most beautiful journey he ever walked into.
From meeting you, getting to know you, rejected by you, multiple times, to the day you finally let him in. And he is still learning new things with you. His heart breaks a little when you think of it that way, because he never thought he had it rough, he never thought of you being mean to him.Â
âBut he accepts me, all of me. I have no idea how to love so he asked me to learn it together with him. Saying yes to marrying him probably seems reckless and rushing to some but out of so many unsure things in my life, being with him isnât one of that. Now he has become my home, my wings, my loverâÂ
Jungkook teared up at your confession. You rarely are the first one to show affection but he knows. He always does.Â
After almost an hour drive, Suri slowed the car on the familiar residency. Pulling up her car in front of the beige house, you straighten up your back as you can see a few cars already parked neatly, along the street to your grandmaâs house.
The beige coloured wall looks new yet you still recognize it as the house you used to reside when you were a little girl. You noticed familiar figures. Looks like everyoneâs here already.
You glanced back and saw Jungkook stretching his arm as his mouth widely opened with a yawn. Suri is already out of the car hugging your other cousins. You help Jungkook fixing his hair and coming out of the car together, before they practically swarms you and engulf you in a big hug.Â
Jungkook can feel the warmth from the interactions he got. He really feels bad for not staying longer after the wedding. Otherwise he will get to know your family a bit better. He was awkward at first, but your uncles and aunts didnât treat him like a stranger and everything that youâre stressed about for weeks disappeared into thin air.
The unnecessary thoughts you and Jungkook had about meeting your Grandmama also gone too.Â
Grandmama loves him, she may be slightly senile as she couldnât quite remember people but she is so comfortable with Jungkook. Oh your grandma, the wrinkles on her skin, her hearing and eyesight are starting to deteriorate.
The moment you walked into the door, you saw her on her favorite couch, kneeling next to her legs, you put your hands on her knees. Informing her that you have arrived safely. She couldnât hear you properly so Suri told you to speak a little louder.
She hardly recognize you which breaks your heart but itâs partly your fault. You shouldâve visited her often.Â
Jungkook who was sitting next to you just looks at you and your grandma. Fondness filled in his eyes when he saw your thumb rubs circle on your Grandmamaâs knee.Â
An act Jungkook always does to you. You introduced Jungkook to her and ever as polite your husband his, he stretched out his both of his hands to your grandma. She held his hand as Jungkook told her that he is your husband.
âLilo? Liloâs husband?â Grandmama asking for a confirmation at Jungkook. Jungkook kneels closer to her because she hasnât let go of his hand. With as much energy her frail body can give, she squeezes his hand. âLilo, you happy?â Grandmama turns to you as her other hand patted your head.
âYes, grandma. Very happy.â
Fighting the tears from rolling down your face. This whole situation is very emotional because itâs like sheâs giving your marriage a blessing. You regretted for not coming earlier. Jungkook notices how emotional youâve become and he gives you a reassuring smile.
âLilo makes me happy, grandma. Iâm sorry for not visiting you sooner,â Jungkook squeezed back your grandmaâs hand and your heart swelled at him using your childhood nickname.Â
The night went so well after the emotional reunion.Â
The thing about your big family is nobody is left out. Itâs loud because everyone get to talk. Even the shy Jungkook is included. Jungkook have no idea kids love him. The only little kids interaction he managed to survive is Yuna, Taehyungâs baby.
Watching from the kitchen window, you can see your cousinâs children are following him like ducklings, the sight is very endearing.
He is good with kids, he just didnât know that. He has a lot of stamina to match up with the kidsâ energetic nature. He had his rest on the way, and now he is walking around while holding an infant.
You instantly think that he would be an amazing dad.Â
âThinking of having one of those?â Suri speaks up from behind you. Her eyes glued on the kids chasing Jungkook at the yard.
Grandmama once told that Grandpapa wants a big yard for kids to run freely. Now it serves its purpose.
âWe havenât fully discuss about it yet, but we did talked âbout itâ Your feel your stomach doing a back flip because the idea of mini you and Jungkook running around in the house, tiny hands and feet, giggles and gurgles are so, so, so tempting but youâre not sure if Jungkook wants that as much as you do.
Your marriage is still on the early stage.Â
As if Suri can read your mind she turns to you to help you stacked up the clean plates. âWhatâs there to discuss? If you both want kids, then let it happen. Iâm pretty sure Jungkook wants them as much as you do.âÂ
Biting your lower lip, thinking how should you break your desire to Jungkook. âYea, I guess.â Turning off the faucet, you and Suri walks to the living room.
You and Jungkook decided to stay a night at your grandmaâs before spending the rest of the week at your parentsâ house. Jungkook feels like he has a lot to catch up with Grandmama. But since itâs already late into the night and Grandmama needs her rest, Jungkook would have to settle down with you and spend the day with her tomorrow.Â
Jungkook was given a mini tour of the house before you stopped at your used to be bedroom. It wasnât big now but it felt huge when you were a little kid.Â
You took a shower first before Jungkook because that man takes forever when heâs in the bathroom. Seriously, he could spend an hour doing whatever it is inside it.Â
After showering, you sprawl on the cozy bed. Looks like someone been tidying the room, you might have to ask Suri later. You turn around to face Jungkook who is sitting on the edge of the bed.
âBabe, câmere please, I need you,â you groggily calling him. Jungkook chuckles softly as he crawls hastily to you. Like a dog being offered the bone. This sight could be mistaken as lust but right now, with his bunny grin and and bouncy long hair? He is just so adorable.Â
âOkay Lilo, tell me, why am I just found out about Lilo now? Lilo?â Raising his brows as he hovers above you. You let out a soft giggles as you place your hands on his chest, creating a space between you and he pouted at that.
âTruthfully I forgot about that name. Because, only my closest family call me that.â Jungkook hums at that and you can feel the vibration from his chest.
âBack off Kook, youâre suffocating me.â
He whines when you pushed him but he clings back to you like a koala on your side. His legs trapping your legs as his hand sprawled on your stomach.Â
âWhy Lilo?â He speaks softly.
Confused at your husband sudden ministrations, your turns to face him. âWhy are you suddenly so clingy?â You raise one brow to him before he tightens his hold on your stomach. Leaving wet smooches on your neck, your jaw and your cheek.
âLet me love my wife. Come on, you didnât answer me. Why Lilo? Is it related to Lilo and Stitch?â
You place your hand on his cheek.Â
"Yes, it is indeed related to Lilo and Stitch. They call me Lilo because I⌠Okay promise you wonât laugh first.â You giggle thinking about the silly reason behind your nickname.
âWhat, babe. Donât keep me hanging. I wonât laugh.âÂ
Propping his hand, he grabs you closer. âStop giggling, tell me.â Jungkook pinches your cheek with his other hand.
âItâs because I used to make voodoos with spoons. Just like Lilo.â You cover your face with your hands. Jungkook lets out the loudest laugh and after realizing that maybe youâre embarrassed by that, he toned it down a little.
âYou promised you wonât laugh! Asshole." You smack his arm.
âI said I wonât laugh, I didn't promise anything,â he talks back at you while sticking his tongue out.
âTrying to be a smartass now? Get away from me, Iâm sleeping with grandmaâ You wiggle your body so you could get out from his leg. He laughs even harder as he tightens his hold, not wanting to let you go.
âAwe but why? Tell me more? How did you do it, voodoo queenâÂ
Jungkook pulls your hands that covered your face, and he kisses the fingers and your palms.
âKids were mean to me, telling me that my parents doesnât love me, because Iâm living with grandma and grandpa. So, coming home after school, I would grab a spoon and draw a face on it with crayons. Stop snickering Jungkook, it was so hard for me back then.â You pouted at him.Â
âAwe Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry you had a rough childhood. My poor baby,â he patted your hair like heâs coaxing a child. âWho are they? Want me to beat them? I have black belt in taekwondo, let me use my strength.â He said with a serious face. He wouldnât.
âJungkook it was a long time ago, and we were kids,â you smile fondly at him, feeling protected though you know he has the softest heart of them all.Â
âI forgot their names let alone their faces. Never choose violence, Kook, what if some kids bullied our babies, you're gonna beat them?â You trace your finger on his tensed brows, and theyâre soften at your touch.
Actually his whole face softened and lit up simultaneously at your remarks.
âOur babies?" he utter. The words rolling on his tongue so smoothly.
"Say it again, love.â He nuzzles his nose on your neck. Oh, the idea of having a baby with you, drives him wild.Â
You on the other hand is giggling at his actions, youâre a bit ticklish on your neck. And when he bites and sucks the sensitive skin, you let out a breathy moan âOur-babiesâ. Damn Jeon Jungkook.
âKook,â you speak as softly as you can.
âHmm,â he lapped on the abused area, purple and dark pink are subtly forming and surely they will be darker marks by tomorrow morning.
Still latching on your neck he pulls himself with one hand holding him up, the other hand is roaming your body. From your arms, to your belly, before settling by the hip. His thumb is caressing your soft skin.
His dark wavy locks is tickling your chin and you had enough, grabbing his face with both hands as you bring him closer. Noses touching and his lips are wet from biting, with hooded eyes but still carrying the fondness in them, his breathing is becoming more labored and so do you.
âWe shouldnât, Grandmama is sleeping next door,â you either telling that to him or to yourself because from the way youâre licking your lower lip, you donât want him to stop.
Jungkook knows you, you wanted him to convince you that whatever youâre about to do is okay, he will be the bad guy for you.
âGrandmamaâs hearing is a bit-â before he can finish you smacked his chest.
âDonât say it, itâs the age factor. Donât be so mean!â You whisper harshly.
âOuch, okay Iâm sorry, I shouldnât put it that way, but she wonât wake up. Weâre not gonna bother her." He assumed.
"So, you my darling, have to be quiet,â he smirks as he winks at you.Â
âYeah? Kiss me already,â you pulls him down so his lips crash on yours. It is lustful, it is messy, but Jungkook always takes it slow. Heâs a bit sentimental when it comes to making love with you.
Youâre so different, you want it hard. Biting his lower lip as you tug it, a silent pleading for him to move faster. He chuckles at your impatience.
âAlways rushing, princess. Iâm not going anywhere.â His tongue skillfully breaking into your mouth, dominating the kiss. You let him. Your hand which was on his neck now grabbing his hair.
Feeling his soft hair through your fingers before you pulled them. He moaned into your mouth and he pulls away, bearing his neck to you as he lets his head thrown back gravitating to your pull. Eyes closed and he looks like heâs high on ecstasy named you. âAhhh princess-â
âShh! Keep it down.â You immediately leaving marks on his neck and noticing the position is making you uncomfortable, you pushed him until he lays on his back. Straddling his lap, you dive back to his neck, continuing the abuse.
Jungkook canât keep his hands to himself as he quickly pulling up your shirt with struggle as youâre both are chest to chest. He rested his palm on your belly before grabbing your breast. He kneads the soft flesh and it illicit another moan from you. What a sight for Jungkook. You arched your back and gasped at the feeling of his dick poking your ass. Hard. Shakily putting your hands on his chest, you grind on his dick.Â
Jungkook almost cum in his pajama pants at this feeling. The view of you getting off on his clothed member, is making him insane. Your hips moving forward and backward making a tasty fraction, it feels good but it is not enough.
You keep biting your lips until it becomes swollen, and he swears he can feel you soaking your panties already with the wet feeling he felt. âCome on baby, cum like this,â He commands with a deep voice.
âNnggh- Kook, I canât- need youâ You scrunch your eyes and your movements is getting slower. Youâre exhausted.
âYes, you can. Come on baby, come on.â Jungkook gritted his teeth as he can feel your ass snug his dick perfectly. Noticing that your movement is getting faltered, he grips on your hips, and helps you picking up the pace. Surely will leave another bruising marks there. You whimper because the sensation is overwhelming.
Feeling the knot under your stomach is getting tighter and your pussy keeps on clenching on nothing. Only letting out more gush of slick.
"Ahh Kook, close! Iâm cumin-â the knot snapped and all you can see is white. Your breathing is getting more erratic before you completely fell down to his chest. He rubs you back lovingly but his hard dick is still poking you.
Jungkook prioritize your desire first before his and he kisses your head softly. With limping hands you got up pressing his chest once again.
âTake it off, take it all off,â your fingers grabbing the hem of his shirt and pull the material off while he frantically pushing down his pants and his boxer. He helps you taking off your bra as well before he starts swirling his lips on your perk nipple.
A tug and you moan deliciously, he moves on to you other nipple, paying as much attention as he did with the first one. He throw off your pants and panties and god knows where they lands in this room.Â
Pulling you up, he leans on the headboard. He instantly plunged two fingers into your hole and youâre clenching so hard, making he whines. Itâs starting to get hot and steamy as you two letting out breathy moan. Still straddling him, you blindly grab his dick with your hand, pumping it up and down.
âEnough, just wanna be inside you, now!â Jungkook aligned his member to your hole. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you slowly sinking down on him.
Choking and moan in unison as you both adjust to the position. With head thrown back, you sob because Jungkook is big and no matter how many times you fuck, it still feels like your first time.Â
Sensing your discomfort he stays still.
âKook, why are you so big?â Youâre mumbling incoherent words.
âYeah? Iâm big? Taking my cock so well. Fuck, baby, youâre so tight. Come on baby, bounce on my cockâ he grunts as your walls keeps on fluttering. His rolling hips and his dirty talks are making you seeing stars. A whining mess and your cunt is clenching him like a vice.
âStop clenching so hard baby, I might cum soon, we donât want that, right?â he warns with a bite on your shoulders and he switches the position with you now laying on your back, dick still hard inside you.
He keeps up the pace and moaned so loud as he can see the way his dick pistons in and out of your pussy.
âCreamed so hard on my cock, baby, youâre so wonderful.â His hands on your waist with your heels digging his ass.
âFaster, faster. Please, please, please,â youâre chanting, ignoring that somebody might hear you because Jungkook is hitting it right.Â
The squeaking bed and the loud skin slap are echoing in the room.
So much of keeping quiet.
âFuck, youâre so beautiful. Baby, letâs have kids, huh. Letâs have them,â he spreads his palm on your lower belly. Already thinking you carrying a child, his child, how you would look like with a swollen belly.
Fuck, motherhood would look good you. With that thought he trusts harder and faster. You whine and scratch his back as the pace was intensified. Jungkook hiss on both sensation, the sting on his back and how your walls grip his dick tighter at the mention of having a kid.
âYes, yes, yes. Letâs have a baby- nnnghh Kook, shit shitâ Your body jolted when Jungkook suddenly flicks his thumb at your clit. Pushing you to the edge. And you trashed so wild under him as you feel your bliss is approaching.
âCumming- Baby Iâm cumming nghhh Kook, donât stopâ letting him know before you finally let go. Feeling buzzed as Jungkook keep on trusting in and out of you, dragging your high.
âGonna cum in so deep, gonna make make you swole with a baby. Mine, mine, all mineâ Jungkook chanted as his pace is getting sloppy, chasing his own high. Warm ribbons of cum spurted inside your pussy as you milk him dry.Â
The only sounds that youâre hearing right now is a buzzing, and how you two are breathing so heavily. He falls down next to you with his arm snaking around your waist. His breathing is fanning your neck before he left a kiss on your cheek. You're pushing his hair back from his sweaty forehead while he also helps you with your untangled hair.
âIâm serious,â Jungkook grabs your chin to make you look at him. Gone already the lust and the dark in his eyes, now replaced with pools of galaxies.
âAbout having a baby?" You asked.
"Yeah, me too,â you smile sweetly at him and he grins so wide, if you could list the most beautiful look on Jeon Jungkookâs face, one of it was when you said yes after he proposed. When you walked down the aisle, your first sex with him, and right now.
âThank you, baby. You have no idea how happy I am right now,â he kisses your whole face.
âI thought you donât want kids yet, since, well, since we never really discuss about it seriously.â You said softly, putting your head on his chest with finger tracing the skin. In contrast to your heated session, after sex is always soft and calm.
âYou silly, of course I want them. I thought youâre the one who is not ready yet, because yea, I never wear condom whenever we made love, but youâre always on the pills, so I assumed you donât want one, yet, and I also donât wanna push you,â he whispers softly. You sigh, the way he uses the words âmade loveâ and not sex. Instead of âletâs fuckâ itâs âlet me love youâ, and how can you not keep falling for this man. He is disgustingly nerdy and sweet and lovely.
âI will consult my doctor for the pills and we start from there okay?â You glance up, making a promise to him and he nods excitedly like a child.
âCome on up, pee-pee first. Always pee after love making.â Jungkook patted on your bare ass before he got up to carry you to the bathroom.Â
Usually youâre woken up everyday to a big pair of warm hands rubbing circles either on your back or on your belly. Some mornings, the same hands just played with your head, the long fingers ran through the hair with a little pressure. Massaging the scalp. Some mornings, the hands get extra playful when they tickled your nose, your neck, your waist, poking the inside of your ears or pinched your cheeks.
These assaults always resulted in the owner of the hands winning. How can you beat the strength of a man with doe eyes, silly bunny grins and his boyish laugh?
His laugh booming in the room like a heavenly sound. But today, you woke up on your own. No hands. No head massage. No tickles.
Where is your husband? Is he showering? Thereâs no sound of water hitting the tiles. His phone is still charging by the bedside, he never let go of his phone. Strange.Â
You freshened up before you leave the room to check on grandmama. But sheâs not in her room too, well, considering the time and sheâs an early riser, sheâs probably somewhere around the house anyway.
Just as you thought you were left alone, you heard a very familiar giggles. They come from the outside of the house, and your feet are following the sounds.
A smile adorns on your face as you can see the backs of the most important people in your life sitting side by side. Both of them are facing the backyard garden.
You come closer and you can clearly see her wrinkled hands on top of his. He pulled his head back and laughing like a little kid, while she held onto his hands lovingly. Her laugh, though soft, can be heard along with his.Â
You wanted to soak this moment in your brain so you could remember this for years and years. How the morning sunshine makes everything more picturesque, how his broad shoulders shakes when he laughs, how she leans on a chair, as old as she is.
Her brown chair, bought along with his husbandâs big chair. The spot which was left empty ever since he passed away, and you wonder how lonely it is for her to be sitting there alone every morning and every evening.
You stood silently by the sliding door, not wanting to break the moment as so many sentimental memories flooding your mind.Â
âHey, babe? Good morning,â said the man as he turns around to face you. Wide smile on his face, post-laughing puffy cheeks.
âGood morning, Liloâ said another voice as she struggles to turn around. You donât want her to strain her back so you immediately move to sit next to her legs. Kneeling closer like you always did, like a little girl listening to her favorite stories, you place your palm on her knees.
âGood morning, Grandmama. You had a good sleep?â Still not used to speaking louder to her. Brushing your hair she smiles fondly, âyes, yesâ
âWhereâs my good morning?â Pouted the man next to her.Â
âYes, Jungkook. Good morning to you too,â you roll your eyes playfully.Â
If itâs not Grandmamaâs hands holding him, Jungkook would have touched you, peppering you with kisses because it is his morning routine.Â
But he woke up early today, because he guessed Grandmama is already up and he wanted to spend time with her. He was right, the moment he stepped out of the room, Grandmama was walking slowly to the chair outside of the house.
The lady who Jungkook assumed as the maid which Suri told you about last night, is plating a tray of toast and tea for her.Â
Jungkook moves to help Grandmama settles on her chair before she insisted him to sit next to her.Â
âThatâs Grandpapaâs chair.â You jutting your chin at him, whispering but he can still hear you.
âReally?â Jungkook flustered because Grandmama really insisted him to sit on it and now knowing that this seat belongs to Grandpapa, he feels even more honored.Â
âWhat are you two laughing about just now?â You glanced up to face your grandma with big eyes. Grandmama just chuckles and you can see your husband is biting his lips trying to hold back his laughter.
âJust, reminiscing old memories, sweetheart,â Grandmama replied.Â
âApparently, someone really hates wearing pants since she was a little girl. Humm, Grandmama did you know she still refuses to wear pants sometimes?â Jungkook leans closer to Grandmamaâs ears as if they both are sharing some secrets. Pretending that youâre not even there.
With shocking wide eyes and gaping mouth, you knew exactly who is that little girl. Itâs you. Grandmama just told Jungkook about your unhealthy habit, great, now Jeon Jungkook can collect another material into his teasing box.
âDid not!â You gasp and giving your Grandmama a betrayal look.Â
âWhat was sheâs like back then? Running around naked? Sheâs a wild one isnât she?â Both of them are ignoring you and Jungkook keep on firing questions to Grandmama.
Youâre pretty sure the blush on your cheeks are from controlling the anger you have towards your husband right now. Definitely not because of embarrassing. Nope.
Seeing Grandmama laughing at both of you is making your heart swell. Your eyes land on her hands that has been holding Jungkookâs ever since you saw them. You were worried for nothing, and guilt is starting to creep on you as you were initially do not plan on bringing Jungkook along.Â
Because first, youâre worried for him. Jungkook is not used to your family which is again, your fault. You didnât properly introduce him to your family, not traditionally-proper. Itâs not like youâre breaking the norms or rebelling or anything. Itâs just you donât feel that is necessary.
As long as you love each other, thatâs all that matters. But you worried nevertheless. Worried they might not include him, what if Jungkook is uncomfortable because, dear god, Jungkook will never let you know if heâs feeling bothered. Very much like you, now taste your own medicine.
Secondly, itâs Grandmama, she has never met Jungkook, and yes, she is lovely but what if she suddenly doesnât approve of him? That would break his heart.Â
Now you realize that youâre worried for nothing, everyone loves him. How can they not?Â
âI wanna take a short nap, you two can stay here.â Your Grandmama reaches for her cane as her wobbly legs trying to stand up. The maid rushed out to help her before Jungkook was about to carry her himself.
âYou donât have to carry and old lady like me, just carry your wife,â your Grandmama chuckles as she slowly walks back to her room.Â
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck and sigh, he doesnât mind carrying Grandmama. He once saw his dad carried his grandma on his back and he wanted to do that too. Shifting his gaze back on you who is still staring at him.
âHey, the girl who hates pants,â Jungkook smirks cheekily. Here comes your Jungkook. âWow I have no idea you hate pants. No wonder you donât wanna wear one all the time. Oh wow,â he faked gasp at the fact. Mocking you.
âI will burn all of your pants the moment we got back, Kook,â words are seething through your teeth as you faked threatening him.Â
âI donât mind that, we can be pant-less together,â Jungkook leans back to the chair as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the morning air.Â
You're sitting next to him, only managed to stare at his beauty.
âStop staring and come closer, please. Iâm yours, you can touch me.â He said. Of course he caught you staring at him.
âI didnât stare!â You blush.
âPut your head on my shoulder. Let me bask in this glory morning with my wife,â Jungkook speaks softly as he pulls your head closer to his shoulder. And you let him.
Feeling his steady breathing, cold cups of tea, half eaten toast, his humming of an unknown song, his hands on top of yours, a kiss on your head, and you really deeply seriously madly in love with this man.Â
âBy the way, Grandmama heard us last night, she said good job and she wants to see great-grandchildren real soon,â Jungkook said in a monotonous voice as if itâs nothing.Â
Well, shit.
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#bts x reader#bts fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#marriage au#husband!jk
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Hello! Thank you for feeding us the angstier timeline of the dukedom au!! I live for angst
You donât have to entertain this thought ofc, the angst and how good you write for my brain worms worming. I just canât stop thinking about what wouldâve happened if KĂśnig wasnât there and instead the duchess had to suffer all on her own
(Or better yet, if he was there but ended up also leaving the duchess for someone else or was killed protecting the duchess)
Reader having to endure everything on her own which eventually leads her to falling terribly ill and in the olden times we all know how a simple cold could turn into more and yield deadly results
The stress combined with the overall lack of appetite (and the food not cooked well at times to add to that⌠more angst (: ) as well as other factors rendered the reader terribly ill
Maybe she fell into a body of water and had to save herself, or maybe she was caught up in a rainy storm on a walk with no one offering her warm clothing or a cover up until she eventually managed to get back that leads to pneumonia
Maybe she gets injured but hides it until the blood loss gets to her and infection sets in
Just so many options and flavours of angst
Anyway, thank you for sharing your writing with us! Agin, you donât have to engage with this, so please donât feel pressured!! Iâm just having many thoughts and am currently going feral /pos
WAITTT WAIT I LOVE THIS
Because imagine clinging to KĂśnig, to your one singular source of comfort in a manor that has no room for you, and in the end, he leaves as well.
You had been telling yourself that you had been simply more imaginative lately; KĂśnig was simply busy, he wasnât growing more and more distant! The way he looks at you now compard to before hasnât changed. At all. His responses were in hums and nods, noncommittal but thatâs okay, sometimes you did not feel like speaking- like existing- either.
Until he stands in your office, the light from the windows reflecting off his armour. You had been happy to see him, a smile on your lips to be in the company of the only one who didnât seem to despise you.
When he tells you that he will not be doing this anymore, it feels, for a very split second, like your heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces. You can feel the shattering of each, single piece.
Better place. He says, pity in his eyes but no regret. He pauses for a second. I wish⌠the best for you.
KĂśnig leaves you like that; staring after his back in abject horror. Every step he takes echoes in your ears, until you are left alone in your office, hands trembling, and your ears ringing.
After that day, everything practically crumbled. You crumbled.
Without him, the weight of your isolation became unbearable. The disdain of the household grew sharper once it became known your only solace was no longer there, the whispers more cutting. Meals came cold, uneaten. Sleep eluded you, and the constant stress gnawed away at your strength.
One fateful day, you went outside in a desperate bid to escape the suffocation. The air was crisp, the sky gray with the promise of rain, and yet you still did not turn back. You wandered farther than you intended, your steps aimless even as the first drops began to fall.
The storm came quickly afterwards, drenching you to the bone. Your thin cloak offered little protection, and the chill seeped deep into your skin. By the time you returned, trembling and soaked, no one was waiting to help you. No fire had been lit in your chambers; no warm blanket was offered, and no company was given.
The fever began that very night, burning through you with a strength that left you bedridden. Days passed in a haze of pain and delirium. The wound you had hidden- an injury from your fall in the storm- festered, the infection spreading rapidly through your weakened body. You hadnât the strength to call for help, nor the faith that anyone would come even if you did hoarse out your voice in your attempts.
Only when your condition worsened and you really, truly disappeared out of view, the household finally took notice. Whispers swirled, faint echoes beyond the fog of your fading consciousness, and everyone became alert of your absence, meals returned untouched and maids reporting itâs weeks since theyâd helped you with anything.
John sat in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey as the fire crackled in the hearth. He told himself your absence didnât matter- that you were retreating because youâd finally realized the truth. But when he closed his eyes, he saw your face as it had been on your wedding day- hopeful, trusting, and unaware of the coldness that would greet you.
Simon found himself pacing the halls around your room more often than usual. He would glance toward your chambers but never step inside, convincing himself it wasnât his concern. And yet, something about the silence unsettled him.
Johnny had begun to notice the meals sent to your chambers were left untouched, the plates returned barely touched or sometimes not taken at all. He hadnât cared at first, dismissing it as you sulking because no one was giving you attention. But now the thought lingered- had you even been eating at all?
Even Kyle, with his sharp tongue and sharper gaze, felt the unease creeping in. He found himself hesitating when passing your door, his usual indifference cracking as guilt gnawed at him.
In the end, itâs Kyle who couldnât stand the silence anymore. He stepped into your room, telling himself it was simply to prove to himself that you were fine and just- sulking.
The sight stopped him cold.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the air heavy with the faint, sour scent of illness. You lay motionless on the bed, your body shockingly frail, your skin damp with fever. Your hair clung to your forehead, and your breathing was shallow, each breath rattling in your chest.
You didnât even notice him. Not even when he turned around and barked sharply for John, for a doctor now. You didnât notice him at all. Not him, not John or Simon or Johnny when they appear while the maids run to get the doctor.
(Kyle will never tell anyone how utterly sick he felt upon seeing the dried tear-tracks on your face. The unfinished, rotten meals near the bed. The tear spots on your pillows. He will never, ever forget today. He doubts any of the others will be able to do so, either.)
#noona.asks#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#cod imagine
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I would love to read an imagine of TF141 and what theyâd do together with the reader on vacation and you can choose any destination of your choice! Hot topical to glaciers!
Thank you!
I could have gone spicy with this. The fact that I didn't is a testament to my self-control. While there is a little heat, most of this is just straight up fluff. It's all cuteness. Good feelings only. Pure comfort. Enjoy!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, fluff, flirting, kissing, mild suggestive themes, brief mention of alcohol
Word Count: 1k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
The stars above you are white against the dark sky. The crisp, cool Pacific Northwest air sends a slight chill across your skin. A shiver passes over you, and you snuggle closer to John, seeking his warmth. He sighs contentedly, arm tightening as you press into his side. The swimming dock rocks softly, lulling you toward sleep.
Itâs quiet out on the lake. No lights. No noise. Itâs nice to get away from everythingâto spend time with your husband that doesnât involve home.
âIâm happy we came, John,â you sigh.
âYou like the cabin?â
You nod. âItâs peaceful.â
John's lips lightly press against your temple. "I'm happy you joined me."
Whenever John leaves for a trip to the cabin, itâs almost always a hunting or fishing trip with his team. Even they need to cool off after a mission. But John didnât ask them to come. He brought you to his favorite place.
His fingers lightly curve under your chin, tilting your head upward. Closing the distance, John greets you with a kiss that melts you down to your toes.
He smiles softly. âUp for a little swim?â
You laugh. âItâs a bit chilly. And itâs dark!â
John grins and then pushes up to his feet, removing his clothes until heâs down to absolutely nothing. His pale butt is on full display in the moonlight.
"John!" you protest, but heâs already diving in.
You sit up, startled, watching the rippling dark water. A beat, and then he resurfaces. âJoin me.â
With heat rising in your cheeks, you follow his lead. You do not dive as gracefully.
As you resurface, treading water, John cozies up to your, reaching for you beneath the surface. Your legs wrap around his middle, the two of you silently floating under the stars. The water is cold but you hardly care. John is warm, and so are his kisses.
They are cute at first, little peaks that become deeper, making your core clench with anticipation. The chilly water is a distant thing in your mind. All you know is John, and this moment, and all the days you have ahead with him.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Itâs hot in Miami. The beach is packed.
But Kyle is uncaring of the crowd, too busy with the remote-control toy excavator you bought him just for this beach trip.
âHowâs the digging?â you ask, flipping a page in your book. You lounge under an oversized umbrella.
Kyle moves the joystick with his thumb. The yellow toy excavator picks up a chunk of sand and dumps it to the side. âIâm going to have the biggest hole on the beach.â
You nod, and lightly pat his shoulder, returning to your book.
There are a few minutes of silence between you before Kyle puts the remote control down and turns to look at you.
âWhat?â you prompt as Kyle continues to stare.
âIâm bored. Wanna go play mermaids in the ocean?â
Inserting the bookmark, you close your book and set it aside. âAbsolutely I do.â
John "Soap" MacTavish
âIâve never done this before, Johnny.â
âI know, love. Itâs okay. Iâm right here.â Johnny holds your hands in his. "Being scared is nothing to be ashamed of."
Before you is a mountainous slope covered in snow. Plenty of people are already on it, descending to the bottom on skis and snowboards. Some are lightning fast with others meander slowly. It looks funâreally, it doesâbut this is completely new to you.
When Johnny said vacation in the Alps, you didnât think this. You were imagining a fancy cabin with nice food, a hot tub in the snow, and steamy sex next to a roaring fire.
âIâll hold on to you. The whole way down. Weâll do this together.â
âYou wonât let me fall?â
Johnnyâs gloved hands squeeze yours in reassurance. âItâs just the bunny hill.â
âFor children. Iâm not a child.â "Oh, aye. It's for wee ones. But also, for newbies. Besides, I'll be with ya." He winks. "Won't let anything happen."
"That is not reassuring," you mutter, the snowboard wobbling slightly under your feet.
Johnny is the only thing keeping you upright. He grips you tightly, completely at ease in the snow.
âDo you promise?â you ask.
Johnny releases one of your hands to move his goggles into place. He lightly taps his helmet against yours.
âPromise.â
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Her sisters are in Greece."
"You Brits like to steal everything."
Simon chuckles. "Throw a rock in here and you'd hit something that came from somewhere else."
He steps away from the statue, turning to move on to another. You follow him, trying to see what he sees.
âI wouldnât take you for the museum type.â
"Why?" asks Simon, arching an eyebrow.
You gesture at him, and Simon snorts. âFair point,â he replies, glancing down at himself. He looks more ready to jump on the back of a sportbike rather than tour a museum.
Simon moves on to a new statue, head titled slightly as he peers up at it. âI like museums. Theyâre calm. Quiet. I can take my time. No one needs me. No one expects anything from me.â
He says it so casually, but you hear the underlying sigh. There is something heavy beneath it. A weight he carries but you canât identify what it may be.
âI can be here for hours,â he murmurs.
âSoâŚno pub crawls?â
Simon attempts to stifle a laugh. âLove a good pub crawl. Johnny and I go on them all the time. He always thinks he can out drink me.â
âDoes he?â
âNever,â grins Simon.
He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers. You slide your hand into his, the warmth of him chasing away your worry.
Simon pulls you in close, two of you leaving the statues behind.
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INVITING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO YOUR FAMILY THANKSGIVING
ŕ¨ŕ§ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ŕ¨ŕ§ : genre : fluff ŕ¨ŕ§ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ŕ¨ŕ§ : word count : 1862
ᥣđŠ a/n : this one is for all my US babies who are celebrating thanksgiving today!!
Ęăťmax verstappen
it was a week before thanksgiving and you got in your bed to see an already tired max laying down, as you get underneath the covers you lay against him and look at him, "baby."
he gives you a hum and look sat you, "yes?"
"i know you guys don't celebrate this holiday, but i really want you to come to the family dinner on thanksgiving, and i know you have practice on the 29th, so i could ask them to move the dinner a little early so you can come." you tell him, softly.
"you know i've never celebrated thanksgiving before?" he laughs before turning a bit to see your face, "if itâs important to you, iâll be there. just donât let me mess up your traditions, okay."
you laugh, "all it consists of is a turkey and some yams, but i mainly want you to come because my family will be there, and you know how much they love you."
âso, is this where you make me eat turkey until i canât move? or are we going to do one of those cheesy gratitude speeches?â max teases, putting a smile on your face.
you shake your head, laughing softly. "maybe a little of both. but mostly, i just want you there with me."
max's teasing grin softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "then iâm there. but iâm warning you now, if your uncle challenges me to some weird american football game, iâm going all in."
"oh, he will," you reply with a smirk, snuggling closer to him. "but i think youâll be just fine. my mom already says youâre part of the family."
he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. "good. because i donât plan on going anywhere."
with that, you drift off to sleep in his arms, excitement bubbling in your chest for the holidayâand for having max by your side.
Ęăťlewis hamilton
you stand by the kitchen counter, watching lewis chop vegetables with surprising focus. âbabe,â you say softly, leaning against the counter.
he glances up with a warm smile. âwhatâs up, love?â
you hesitate, toying with the edge of your sweater. âi was thinking... thanksgiving is next week, and itâs really important to me. iâd love for you to come to dinner with my family.â
he sets the knife down, giving you his full attention. âthanksgiving, huh? iâve never done one of those before. whatâs it like?â
âitâs mostly just food," you begin, thinking off all the components of a thanksgiving dinner, "turkey, stuffing, pie... oh, and my family asking you too many questions,â you laugh nervously. âbut itâd mean a lot if you came. i know youâre busy, though, so no pressure.â
lewis steps closer, resting his hands lightly on your waist. âif itâs important to you, iâll make time. iâd love to be with your family and see what this whole thanksgiving thing is about.â
you smile, relief washing over you. âreally? even if it means answering endless questions about racing?â
he laughs, pulling you into a hug. âas long as they have some good food, i think iâll survive.â
you snuggle into his chest, grinning. âtrust me, my grandmaâs sweet potato pie will make it worth it.â
he kisses the top of your head. âthen iâm sold. just promise youâll stick by me if someone starts grilling me about my cars.â
âdeal, but i can't stop my dad from scolding you for speeding in your mercedesâ you say, your heart full as you imagine lewis sitting at the dinner table, effortlessly charming your family.
Ęăťcarlos sainz
you find carlos sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while lazily petting your dog, a sight that makes your heart squeeze. you sit down next to him, tucking your legs under you.
"carlos," you say softly, nudging him with your knee.
he looks up with a small smile, his brown eyes warm. "quĂŠ pasa, cariĂąo?" (whatâs up, love?)
"so... thanksgiving is next week," you start, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "and i was wondering if youâd come to dinner with my family."
he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching like heâs holding back a grin. "thanksgiving? the one with the turkey and... what do you call it? the cranberry... jelly?"
you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah, that one. but itâs not just about the food. itâs more like... being with family and saying what youâre thankful for. i know itâs not a spanish thing, but itâd mean a lot if you came."
he sets his phone down, fully turning to you. "sabes que soy terrible con estas cosas sentimentales, Âżverdad?" (you know iâm terrible at these sentimental things, right?) "iâll probably say something dumb like âiâm thankful for ferrari.â"
"my dad would probably high-five you for that," you tease, leaning closer.
he chuckles, his hand sliding to your knee. "si tu padre estĂĄ de acuerdo, ÂżcĂłmo puedo decir que no?" (if your dadâs on board, how can i say no?) "but only if you promise to save me from saying something embarrassing."
"deal," you say with a grin. "but you should know... my mom is going to love you. sheâs been asking about you non-stop."
"ay dios," (oh god) he groans, leaning back dramatically. "what do i even say to impress an american family."
"just be yourself," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "trust me, youâll charm her in five seconds flat."
he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a playful smile on his lips. "fine, but only if i bring some jamĂłn ibĂŠrico, your family has to try real food."
you laugh, already picturing him at the table.
Ęăťcharles leclerc
you find charles lounging on the couch, leo curled up at his feet. you sit beside him, nudging him gently.
"love," you say, a little shy.
he looks up with a smile. âquoi, mon amour?â (what, my love?)
you bite your lip, feeling nervous. "so... thanksgivingâs next week, and i know itâs not a thing in monaco, but i was wondering... would you come to dinner with my family? theyâd really love to have you."
charles tilts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. âthanksgiving? with the turkey and... pumpkin pie?â he laughs softly, his accent making the words sound so sweet.
you nod. "yeah, thatâs the one. itâs all about family, and itâd mean a lot to me if you came."
he sets his phone down, his smile softening. âmon amour, if itâs important to you, iâll be there. i wouldn't miss it.â his voice is warm, sincere.
you grin, leaning in a little closer. "you sure youâre ready for my familyâs chaos?"
he laughs, brushing a lock of hair from your face. âi think i can survive turkey... and maybe even your momâs pumpkin pie." he pauses, his smile turning a bit mischievous. âbut donât be surprised if i say something cheesy in front of your family, like... âiâm thankful for the beautiful woman beside me.ââ
your heart skips, and you chuckle. "oh, charles, you're going to melt my momâs heart."
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "as long as i donât have to speak perfect english, iâm good," he teases, making your heart swell.
you smile up at him. âyouâll charm them with that accent, iâm sure.â
âmaybe iâll speak more french just to make it worse for you,â he laughs, his hand gently squeezing yours.
you lean against him, feeling warm and happy. âtheyâre going to love you, charles.â
âas long as i get to be with you, mon amour,â he whispers, pulling you close.
Ęăťlando norris
you catch up with lando in the paddock, after a long day of practice. the energy is buzzing around you, and you decide to ask him something you've been thinking about all day.
"hey, babe," you say, trying to sound casual.
he glances at you with a grin. âwhatâs up, love? you look like youâre about to ask me for a big favor.â
you take a breath, then ask, "so, thanksgivingâs next week, and i know itâs not really your thing... but would you maybe want to come to my familyâs dinner? itâd mean a lot to me."
lando raises an eyebrow. âthanksgiving? where you eat a ton of food and pretend youâre thankful for it? sounds like a lot of work.â he laughs, teasing. âyou sure you want me there?â
you laugh, shaking your head. âitâs more than just food. itâs about family. iâd really love for you to be there.â
he looks at you for a moment, then smirks. âwell, as long as thereâs no awkward speech about what iâm thankful for, iâm in.â
âno speeches, i promise," you say, nudging him. "just food and a bit of small talk, and family games"
"perfect," he says, grinning. âiâm really looking forward to explaining how fast i go, and how many awkward questions iâll get.â
âtheyâll love you,â you assure him.
âas long as iâm not talking about racing the whole time,â he says with a wink. âdeal?â
you smile, relieved. âdeal.â
"good," he replies. "just donât expect me to wear anything fancy. iâm more of a jeans and hoodie kind of guy.â
"that's fine, i prefer seeing you in something casual anyways." you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Ęăťoscar piastri
you find oscar lounging on your couch, casually scrolling through his phone. you sit next to him, feeling a bit nervous but determined.
"hey, oscar," you say, breaking the silence.
he looks up with a grin. âwhatâs up, love? you look like youâve got something on your mind.â
you take a breath and ask, âso, thanksgivingâs coming up, and i know itâs not really your thing, but... would you want to come to my familyâs dinner? itâd really mean a lot to me.â
oscar raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. âthanksgiving? so i get to eat a ridiculous amount of food, pretend iâm thankful for it, and survive your familyâs questions? sounds like a good time.â
you chuckle. âyeah, thatâs about the gist of it. but honestly, i really want you there. my familyâs gonna love you.â
he leans back, pretending to think for a second. âalright, alright, iâm in. but only because youâre asking so sweetly. just donât expect me to behave too much. and, for the record, iâll definitely be expecting enough food to make up for all the small talk.â
you laugh. âno complaints about the food, i promise. but if you start making jokes about the turkey, iâll disown you.â
âmate, making jokes about turkey is basically my job,â he grins. âbut alright, iâll be good. as long as i donât have to wear a suit or anything fancy.â
âyouâre safe,â you reassure him. âjust dress nice enough to not scare anyone off.â
he leans in closer with a wink. âdeal. letâs see if i can survive a night of turkey and awkward family banter without causing too much chaos.â he smirks. âshould be fun.â
you smile, feeling a wave of warmth. âiâm sure youâll be just fine.â
Š 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 instagram au#fanfiction#carlos sainz x reader#f1 fic#max verstappen x reader#lando norris x reader#formula one#boyfriend texts#f1 smau#f1 texts#f1 fluff#carlos sainz fluff#crack texts#f1#max verstappen#lewis hamilton#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#lando norris#oscar piastri#george russell#charles leclerc x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen fluff#smau#đŞâĄď¸âË â jungwnies
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If you have the time, do you think you can do a sharing a bed prompt âwarming their hands by slipping them up the otherâs shirt and onto their back/stomachâ or âlovingly tracing the otherâs scarsâ? With f!reader and Im fine with any ship since I like all of them. Have a great day đ.
thanks for the prompt, doll <3
Sirius Black x fem!reader who takes Sirius to a winter cabin [732 words]
CW: celebrating Christmas, Sirius pretending to be disgruntled even though there's literally no place he'd rather be (other than the Maldives, perhaps)
âYou know we could be in the Maldives right now, right?â Sirius drawls from his place stretched out on the luxurious queen sized bed adorned with a copious amount of bedding and faux fur throw blankets. âWearing far less clothes and not needing to risk splinters every hour just to stay warm.âÂ
You smirk as you watch the log you just added to the fire catch; sparkles crackling and shooting from the bark as you close the windowed door to the woodstove.Â
âThis is romantic, though.â You argue, hanging the fire poker back up and turning to face Sirius. His long sleeved sleep shirt was so thin and tight that you could make out every curve of his upper body; pyjama pants hanging sinfully low on his waist as he laid watching you, head propped up by his fist and his legs crossed casually at the ankle.Â
You thought, then, that Sirius Black - with his inky black curls falling nearly to his shoulders, his fair skin decorated by high contrasting black ink, clad in his comfies and surrounded by fur blankets, the numerous windows of the tiny cabin giving you a perfect view of the snow covered mountains surrounding you - had never looked more beautiful.Â
âYou know what else is romantic?â He asks with an arched brow, feigning insolence even as his eyes track the way that the hem of his thick jumper you were wearing rose slightly higher along your bare thighs as you made to crawl back into the bed. âBeing served drinks that are equal parts sugar and rum whilst laying under a cabana and insisting that my sunburn is going to fade into a tan even though both of us know it isnât true.âÂ
âYou know whatâs not romantic?â You murmur as you settle into the bed, slotting your bodies together as Sirius pulls one of the thick furry throws over the two of you. âListening to you yelp when you feel a little bottom feeder fish nudging your toes and claiming that the barracudas are after you again.â
âI thought you said you loved the sound of my voice?â He asks accusatively.Â
âNor is peeling said burn off your back like layers of a very pink onion.â You continue, pressing a kiss to his down turn lips as he narrows his eyes at you.Â
âYouâre very mean to me.â He pouts, though he readily accepts your kisses.Â
âAm I?â You murmur into his cheek as you move to trail kisses along his jaw; a content sigh escaping your boyfriend as he closes his eyes and melts into the bed. âI only wanted a white Christmas.â You pout as you pull away, batting your eyelashes at Sirius as he cracks one eye open to cut you a look.
âAnd a white Christmas my girl got, hm?â He responds before wrapping his arms around your middle and rolling over, eliciting a squeal from you as he settles you atop of him chest to chest. âWhat does that make me?â
âThe best.â You agree readily, pressing another kiss to his lips, smiling at the appreciative hum that earned you. The moment was ruined, however, when his icy cold hands wormed their way under the hem of your stolen jumper to settle on your lower back. âI take it back; I take it back, youâre the worst!â
âThe worst?â Sirius hums casually, strengthening his hold on you ever so slightly as you try to wiggle out of his grasp. âBut I sacrificed sandy beaches and tropical drinks and swimming with dolphins for you. Seems only fair you warm up my hands.â
âYou need to see a doctor.â You grumble as you relent to being used as his personal furnace. âYou must have circulatory issues.âÂ
âOr my beautiful darling girl has sequestered me in a tiny wood-heated cabin in the height of winter.â
You lift your head to rest your chin on Siriusâ chest; cataloguing all the ways in which his face was at complete odds with his voice. The soft upturn of his lips, the slow, relaxed blinks as his eyes flickered across your features in much the same way yours were flickering across his.Â
âIâm beautiful and darling, hm?âÂ
âThe beautifullest and darlingest.â He confirms readily, and you can't help but smile at him; he canât help but smile right back.Â
âHappy Christmas, Siri.âÂ
âIt really, really is.â He agrees.
#elle's hibernating#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black fic#sirius black ficlet#sirius black imagine#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#sirius black x fem!reader#fem!reader#christmas fic#ellecdc fics
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The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding
In which you and Max tie the knot.
Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k
- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List
After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didnât want to wait until the next summer break to get married.Â
Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail.Â
It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadnât missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble.Â
âWhat if we just eloped?â He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows youâd do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesnât suit you at all.Â
You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. âWhat?âÂ
Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. âYou heard me. What if we just said âfuck thisâ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? Thatâs a thing?âÂ
Not for the first time in your relationship, youâre stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if heâs fucking with you or not. âYouâdâŚyouâd want that?âÂ
Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. âBaby,â He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. âBaby, Iâd marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I donât care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I donât care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.âÂ
Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. âThat might be the most romantic thing youâve ever said to me.âÂ
Maxâs forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. âWell, itâs true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I donât care.âÂ
Heâd do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something youâve become accustomed to over the last year. âI just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.âÂ
You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what youâre feeling. âI love our lives and know weâre privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something thatâs just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?âÂ
An idea forms in Maxâs head then. âWhat if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?âÂ
You nod, âHave is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?âÂ
Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. Itâs a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Maxâs hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he canât get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours.Â
Ever since getting engaged, youâd hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but youâd been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day.Â
âWhere would we go? And when?â The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you.Â
Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days.Â
âWe could do it this winter? Thereâs always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. Weâd see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.âÂ
You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this.Â
yourpersonalinsta posted
129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!
December, 2025Â
The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day.Â
Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you handât done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldnât help but continually breathe a sigh of relief.Â
The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you.Â
Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didnât want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didnât want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule youâd been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes youâd go weeks between seeing each other too.Â
No, it wasnât because he didnât want you around. It was because he didnât want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldnât bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment.Â
In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you werenât taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick.Â
You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You werenât sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering.Â
All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. âHi baby.â He whispers, voice rough with sleep.Â
âGood morning, sleepy head.â You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him.Â
As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. âYou looked deep in thought. Everything okay?â He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek.Â
âHmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.âÂ
Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villaâs lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed.Â
âYou still feeling okay about tomorrow?âÂ
Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action.Â
âI amâŚunless youâre not?â It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Maxâs face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what youâd do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow.Â
Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that youâve been living in since you got here. âLifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.âÂ
Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didnât really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldnât always control it.Â
âI know.â You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly.Â
âAnxiety?â It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. âDo you feel what you do to me?â He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. âDo you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and Iâm a goner. There isnât a single second thought in my mind, love.âÂ
âIâm sorry Iâm hard to love sometimes.â Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. âIâm sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know it canât be easy.âÂ
You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you werenât good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had?Â
Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didnât see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing heâd ever done in his life.Â
âI want you to listen to me, okay?â He waits, brows raised, until you nod. âI will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, youâre mine and Iâm yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.âÂ
Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. âHow did I get so lucky to have you?âÂ
âOh, sweet girl itâs not you thatâs lucky.â Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. âIâm the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.âÂ
There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him youâd cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked.Â
Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Maxâs approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.
 It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadnât asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready.Â
Youâre just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when thereâs a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. Heâs got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesnât look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two.Â
âLifeje, where are -â Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought heâd been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman heâd ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with itâs plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. âChrist.â He whispers, unable to move from the spot heâs rooted to.Â
You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. âDo I look okay?âÂ
Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa.Â
âI am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way Iâm remembering anything while I look at you.â He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. âIâve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. âÂ
And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that heâs bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that heâs bought you.Â
âWhatâs in the bag?â You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever.Â
He seems to remember that thereâs something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. âI know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.âÂ
You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. Itâs a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box.Â
When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. Itâs the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought youâd never have anywhere to wear it.Â
âMax.â You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Maxâs own eager look. âItâsâŚitâs so pretty I donât have the words. You spoil me.âÂ
âAnd Iâm going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?âÂ
You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on.Â
âNow, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?âÂ
Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that itâs just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect.Â
Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know heâs going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, heâs as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are.Â
He couldnât have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak heâs so happy.Â
The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but itâs fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. âWhen Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought Iâd like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong Iâd been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that youâve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.â Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek.Â
Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. Youâre endlessly glad you both had written your vows so youâd be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach.Â
âI promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,â He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. âWhatever you need, youâll have. Whatever you want, itâs yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words canât accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.âÂ
The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know itâs now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment.Â
âI stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like youâd known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Weâve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think weâre criminally insane for doing this. But itâs nearly impossible to put into words what youâve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know itâs beyond cliche but youâve altered who I am at my very core. Iâve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.â You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize.Â
âI promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that youâre on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and youâre mine. Iâm so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.âÂ
A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond youâve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you.Â
Rings are exchanged and before youâre able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as youâre told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling.Â
âI love you so much, wife.â Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife.Â
maxverstappen1 posted
1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR
yourpersonalinsta posted
1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god
tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland
#f1#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff
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Could you maybe do a reversal or Arevik's request? As someone who struggles with their body image the other way around.
A/n: I was actually planning on this. Now I write this for you :) I hope you like it!
You struggle with your body image
Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel
Masterlist
Vi
Vi notices your discomfort with your reflection long before you voice it. Sheâs observant, her sharp eyes catching how you pull at your clothes or avoid mirrors.
"Hey, you donât have to look like anyone else to kick butt, alright? Trust meâIâve seen you in action." Sheâll say it with conviction, her tone brooking no argument.
When she realizes how deep your struggles run, she doesnât push, but sheâs always there. Sheâll drag you to a boxing gym one day, not to force you to fight but to show you how strong you are.
"Youâve got nothing to prove to anyone," she tells you after watching you land a perfect punch.
Jinx
Jinx is chaotic but fiercely protective. She notices your hesitation to eat or how you tug at your sleeves and immediately declares, "Whoever made you feel like this? Iâm blowing âem up."
She tries to cheer you up in her own unpredictable waysâdrawing exaggerated portraits of you that make you laugh and reminding you she doesnât care about appearances.
"Youâre my favorite person, you know that? And Iâm the smartest person in Zaun, so... my opinionâs the only one that matters."
On bad days, sheâll cuddle up next to you, her arms tight around your waist, mumbling, "Iâve got you. You donât need to change a thing."
Caitlyn
Caitlyn notices the subtle changes in your mood when the topic of appearances comes up. She approaches it delicately, waiting for you to feel safe enough to open up.
When you finally do, she listens carefully, her eyes soft with understanding. "Youâre beautiful as you are, but I understand how hard it is to feel that way sometimes."
She makes small changes to help you feel more comfortableâlike buying clothes in cuts and fabrics youâd like or planning outings to places where you wonât feel judged.
Caitlyn constantly reinforces how much she values you, not just with words but through her actions. "Itâs okay to struggle. Just donât forget that youâre never alone in this."
Ekko
Ekkoâs no stranger to insecurity, so he picks up on your struggle almost immediately. He doesnât push you to talk about it but offers little reassurances whenever he can.
"Youâre stronger than you give yourself credit for. And no one else gets to define whatâs worth loving about you. Thatâs all you, alright?"
On hard days, heâll distract you with his projects or take you for a ride through the Lanes, showing you the world through his eyes. "This city doesnât define usâneither do the things we donât like about ourselves."
Heâs endlessly patient, always reminding you of your worth without overwhelming you.
Jayce
Jayce struggles to grasp the depth of your feelings at first. Heâs used to being confident and assumes a pep talk will fix it. "Youâre amazing, okay? Donât let anyone tell you otherwise."
When he realizes itâs more complicated than that, he shifts his approach, becoming more attentive. He starts noticing when youâre withdrawn and subtly adjusts his behavior to meet you where youâre at.
Heâll pull you into a tight hug, his voice warm as he says, "Whatever you see when you look in the mirror... I wish you could see what I see."
Jayce is big on small gestures, like leaving notes or little gifts to remind you of how much he cares.
Viktor
Viktor is deeply empathetic and picks up on your struggles quickly, though he doesnât address it outright at first. Instead, he starts spending more time with you, letting his quiet presence offer comfort.
One day, as you stare at yourself in the mirror with a defeated look, he speaks softly but firmly. "Iâve spent my life defying limitationsâdonât let your mind be one of them."
Viktor gently encourages you to focus on what your body allows you to do rather than how it looks. Heâll share stories of his own insecurities, hoping it helps you feel less alone.
On particularly bad days, he simply takes your hand and reminds you, "You are enough. You always have been."
Mel
Melâs approach is thoughtful and calculated, but her warmth shines through in every interaction. She notices your discomfort almost immediately but gives you the space to come to her.
When you do, she listens without judgment, her hand resting gently on yours. "Thereâs nothing wrong with you," she says, her tone firm yet kind. "But Iâll help you see that when youâre ready."
She introduces you to self-care routines that help her feel confident, but sheâs careful never to make you feel pressured. "You donât have to change a thing to deserve loveânot from me, not from anyone."
Mel is fiercely protective, shutting down anyone who dares make you feel lesser. Her love is constant, unwavering, and she ensures you feel it in every word and touch.
Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.
#arcane#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#jinx arcane#vi x reader#vi arcane#vi x you#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn arcane#ekko x reader#ekko arcane#ekko x you#jayce x reader#jayce arcane#jayce league of legends#league of legends#viktor x reader#viktor x you#viktor arcane#mel medarda#mel x reader#mel x you#mel arcane
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I lost my soul dog.
Nothing and no one can prepare you for this moment: I was in denial for the first few days- I didnât want to see his bed, now empty. Each of his toys held beautiful but excruciating memories of the oblivious, light-hearted joy that now feels so distant.
Bodhi was not just a fashion dog, or a pet to me. He was the fork in the road in my life that pivoted everything about who I was, where I was, who I met and the career I chose. He was my heart, my center, my everything. Looking around, there isnât a single thing in this home he hasnât had an impact on. He forged an irreplaceable bond with everyone around him. You see, that was his real superpower. He was a conduit, creating magic links of serendipity to bring the people around him together, to gift connections and form relationships and giving us meaning, and purpose.
He was the light that brightened every room, the absolute apple of my eye, ever since the very first time I laid eyes on him. We were two spirits fused, feeling each otherâs joy and pain. He watched me grow up as I watched him grow old but nothing changed about the way we were. He would always find me. Even as he experienced cognitive decline, he would find me, his little body leaning and pressing against my leg. He was my place of comfort, my ultimate peace.
I toggle between crying and smiling thinking of him and itâs safe to say that I will never recover from this loss but if I could do it all again, I know I would in a heartbeat.
And yet, if I know my Bodhi, I know that he wouldnât want me to mope. He would want me to remember him with that million-dollar shiny smile, in a three-piece suit, charming the hell out of everyone in sight. I know he would want me to dust off my knees, get up and celebrate his life rather than bawl over him. So here I am today, mustering up the courage that I donât have to share the news.
The news of one Shiba Inu that caused millions of people to smile and one, very lucky woman to be his forever soulmate.
Bodhi, I love you forever.
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Picture it with me people
Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isnât good. Heâs having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like âif this was heaven heâd be hereâ type shit you know
Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so heâs compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff weâve never seen before.
A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience canât tell if itâs sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Deanâs fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]
A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.
Thereâs more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us thatâs one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!
Cas is saved. Thereâs hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. Heâs fucked up about feelings, he canât voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didnât let him, but now, now he canât. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesnât feel a certain way.
Heâs frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely heâs aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?
It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying âCas needs to kiss it betterâ. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, theyâre little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesnât want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!
Dean runs. Bangs on Samâs door. Sam opens it, itâs late, heâs annoyed. âWhat, Dean, why do you look so excited?â Heâs doing his bitch face
âSammy, punch me in the mouthâ he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. Heâs practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.
âDean? What? Why would I punch you?â Sam is perplexed. Heâs concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)
âI need you to. Itâs important, please, Samâ
Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains whatâs going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesnât becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!
Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. Heâs nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Deanâs fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Deanâs like itâs all good man but đđđit hurts
Cas is all; let me heal youâŚand Deanâs like OKAY THATâS FINE WITH ME HA HA
Thereâs a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out whatâs going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesnât let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he canât even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and heâs still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? Whatâs go- oh. Oh oh oh oh
Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv
Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end
dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.
cas: here, let me kiss it better.
dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.
[later]
dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.
sam, already winding up: done.
#destiel#well. destiel and sam.#gosh it needs to happen#why did I write this? I donât know fucking sue me there are BUGS in my BRAIN
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hi hehe itâs me again with another singer yn headcanon. she releases bed chem and lewis is in public the first time he hears it (he knows itâs abt him) and when he hears âcome right on me, i mean camaraderieâ heâs like đ§đŤŁđŤ¨đââď¸đ
- đ°
JUNO!
pairings: lewis hamilton x popstar!yn
summary: writing songs about your alleged situationship with an f1 legend is one thing. watching the internet connect the dots and expose your soft launch in real time? thatâs a whole other story.
warnings: very vague mentions of sex. if you can listen to the song, thisâll be okay.
authorâs note: i kinda just did my own thing with it bunny anon iâm sorry :((
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
liked by sza, lewishamilton and 2,139,909 others.
yourinstagram: my newest album short n sweet is out this weekend. including my #1 single espresso!!! (still pinching myself) and my collab with thee sza. love her sm. please go check it out. maybe give it a stream. i would like that.
tagged // sza
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user2: fav song??
-> yourinstagram: thatâs like asking me to choose a favourite child :( i canât do that. (it depends on the week and my mood).
sza: i love u :(
-> yourinstagram: LOVE U MORE đŠˇđŠˇđŠˇ
user1: YASSSSS!!!! WE WON!!!!
lewishamilton: so proud of you. you worked so hard for this.
-> user3: fav song future mr yn? đ
-> lewishamilton: iâm a little partial to bed chem. canât wait for you all to hear the album. itâs incredible.
-> user18: purr thank you current mr yn <3
user4: crying throwing up shaking iâm so ready for this
-> user5: real iâm already in shambles and itâs not even out yet
user6: yn x sza is actually the collab of the century idc. my mozart and beethoven.
user7: espresso is my religion and yn is my prophet
user8: she really said short n sweet just like me đĽšđŤś
-> user9: we love a self-aware queen
user10: if short n sweet doesnât heal my seasonal depression iâm suing
georgerussell63: loved espresso!!! such a hit đ excited for the album!!
user11: yn pls drop the sza collab early iâm begging on my knees
-> user12: same but make it the live version of espresso too i need both for survival
oscarpiastri: need a signed copy when it comes out for my gf and my sisters and my mum đ
user13: yn dropping albums like this is her villain origin story and iâm here for it
billieeilish: ready to stream đ¤Š
user14: espresso literally changed my brain chemistry so iâm ready for the rest
user16: yn you donât understand i have a midterm this week why would you do this to me
-> user17: yn said no academics just vibes
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
r/YNYLN
Discussion Thread: âSoft Launch or Just a Coincidence? ynâs Espresso and Bed Chem Have Fans Losing Itâ
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u/caffeinatedqueen: âsay you canât sleep, baby, i know / thatâs that me espressoâ ⌠lewis is DEFINITELY the sleepless baby here. no one can convince me otherwise.
u/oversizedandobsessed: honestly, this whole album is just yn is just dragging this man through the mud of infatuation, and heâs happily letting her do it.
u/softlaunchdetective: the way she says âtoo bad your ex donât do it for ya, walked in and dream-came-trued it for yaâ like ??? is this shade at one of lewisâ exes??? đ
u/nintendoswitchitup: âmove it up, down, left, right, oh / switch it up like nintendoâ ⌠idk if itâs just me but this sounds like an inside joke. lewis definitely spilled to her about playing mario kart that one time or something, and she ran with it.
u/spillthepollen: LEWIS LITERALLY HAVING A PROD CREDIT ????
u/espressoenthusiast: can we talk about how lewis called bed chem his fave and now heâs out here reposting espresso lyrics on his story?? like sir, do you want us to know that you down bad???
u/ynsbathrobe: lewis flying across time zones just to have yn calling him âsleeplessâ is sending me. they are not even trying to hide it anymore.
u/girlnamedcamaraderie: okay but the real tea: did she write this while they were âjust friendsâ or after things escalated đ bc espresso feels like early-days crush and bed chem feels like⌠post-crush lmao.
u/carbonfiberqueen: the way âholy shit, is it that sweet? i guess soâ is the cockiest line ever, and lewis was out here blushing on that Monaco dinner date. yn KNOWS sheâs got him wrapped around her finger.
u/ynluvr69: not my queen begging him not to embarrass her. like yes heâs thee lewis hamilton but heâs also just a man đ
u/racecarroman: the album rollout being this obvious is killing me. yn drops espresso, juno and bed chem, lewis goes âyeah this is my faveâ, and now theyâre gonna post a joint vacation pic in a week. mark my words.
u/manifestoversized: the taste music video is so hot im so serious i want her.
u/proofitsscientific: she gave us the words âsay you canât sleep, baby, i knowâ and then turned around and said âare you free next week?â ⌠yn, we are all begging for mercy.
u/bedchemmessy: at this point, just let lewis confirm heâs the sleepless baby. heâs BEEN soft-launching yn through his spotify likes anyway.
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
liked by ynsgirlfriend, bedchemstan and 2,837,993 others
ham1ltonshaderoom: i think we have an idea of the cute boy with the white jacket and thick accent is. singer songwriter yn yln released her newest album âshort n sweetâ to both critical and commercial success the past weekend with five songs slotting themselves in the top ten. she also set twitter alight with the loudest soft launch of her alleged relationship with f1 legend lewis hamilton according to eagle-eyed fans. what do we think about the album and the couple ham1ltons?
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user1: yn writing bed chem and espresso about lewis is honestly too much for me. this is their pr teamâs magnum opus.
user2: idk why people are surprised. we BEEN knew when she was randomly at that Monaco GP last year âjust for vibesâ đ
user4: not yâall hyping them up like yn didnât expose their entire situationship in bed chem⌠miss girl is wild for âarrive at the same timeâ
user3: idc about the relationship but short n sweet ATE and left no crumbs. five top ten hits? sheâs THAT girl.
-> user25: cause juno, taste, espresso, bed chem and please please please??? sheâs crazy!!
user5: the only thing louder than this âsoft launchâ is lewisâ exhaust pipes and ynâs lyricism.
user8: yn really said âi will not post him but i WILL write about what weâre doing at 3 a.m.â and i respect it
user9: âthick accentâ got me crying bc we KNOW itâs lewis but yn made it sound like she pulled a victorian love interest đ
user7: not a fan tbh⌠lewis is too much of a legend for this oversharing energy. like, does everything need to be in a song?
-> user10: girl itâs called being a songwriter⌠he knew what he signed up for.
user13: ynâs fans are delulu. theyâre literally never gonna post each other publicly and yâall are gonna be analyzing vibes forever đ
-> user11: LMFAOOOO
-> user12: feel like the dummy you are yet?
user14: short n sweet is a whole love letter to lewis and iâm here for it. sheâs in her main character era, and heâs just happy to be here.
-> user26: she wants his baby đ like writing a whole song about a breeding kink is insane⌠#needthat
user15: lewis reposting espresso lyrics like âthatâs that me espressoâ was the confirmation i needed. boy, we KNOW itâs about you.
user16: the album is fire but ynâs âsoft launchâ strategy has me cackling. just post a selfie together and call it a day!!!
user17: imagine lewis on the pit wall like âyeah iâm the sleepless baby ynâs talking aboutâ đđ
user18: iâm not saying lewis dating yn is a marketing strategy but itâs giving world domination vibes and i fear i love it.
-> user19: PR relationship or not, if yn pulls up at another GP this season, iâm throwing hands.
-> user19: CAUSE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE đ
user20: yn u did your thing with this album!!!
user21: i just KNOW lewis is on her close friends story hyping her up with âđĽđĽđĽâ emojis and weâll never see it.
user22: yn soft launched a relationship and a top-tier album simultaneously. queen of multitasking.
user23: lewis is too old for this tbh. my guy should be manifesting a championship, not blowing out his pop star gfâs back.
user24: yn and lewis got me believing in love again. bed chem is my anthem. iâm free next week if theyâre hiring a third.
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
liked by lewishamilton, bestie1 and 3,738,929 others.
yourinstagram: iâm working late cause iâm a singerrrr đ
comments switched off.
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
â all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you donât wanna be? or you want to be and donât see yourself? send me an ask!)
ââââââ シ ・ďžâ: *.â˝ .* :âďž. ââââââ
#jaydeâs works â#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#lewis hamilton social media au#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lh44 smau#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#f1 fic#formula one x black reader#formula one smau#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x black!reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 smau
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Can we get that dark version of graves đ. Sorry no hate to him but I like how this men operates lowkey like mafia in the dukedom au. Also is Konig still her personal guard in the regular au?
In the regular au, no, I donât have KĂśnig for her in there lol fyi i wrote this while spaced out during a lecture im sorry if it sounds rushed lol đ
Referenced post
As for Graves: god, he is so smug. So, so smug, arrogance and pride growing each second he spends with you and over you. It shows in his gait when he walks, when he begins lording over the other servants and staff, when he begins latching to you, joining you on your free time when he checks beforehand that no one else is there with you. All of this even before you tell John your request.
After you do, and after you insist you really do want Graves, he becomes almost like a blown up balloon. He wants to monopolize all your time, all your interactions, and why would you say no when he gives you the love and affection you long for?
You donât say no; but the same canât be said for them.
It doesnât matter if Graves truly loves you back. It doesnât matter if he doesnât love you and only wants to desperately hold on to his one chance of rising in society. Nothing about Graves really matters to them except how to break his connection to you.
Graves thinks that the reason the rest of the staff slowly begin to distance themselves from him, ill-mannered towards him in general, is out of jealousy due to his closeness to you. He thinks that the reason John adds more stable hands is because you want to have others help him and who he can lord over. He thinks the reason bland and spoiled food he gets is because the cook is jealous of him, as well. Who wouldnât be, knowing itâs only him who has your affection?
He thinks everything is done for him, due to you. It makes him latch all the more to you, and you love it even if you sometimes look confused by it.
When you send him a letter, askinh to meet him privately late at night in the woods behind the duchy, itâs the first time heâs considered saying no to you. But as it is, Graves thinks you are a spoiled thing, born with a silver spoon, and he doesnât want to spoil his standing with you. The woods behind the duchy are a bit⌠unconventional. Heâs heard rumors of servants sometimes dying in there, a long time ago, but there was no solid evidence of it ever.
Whatever it is, he can deal with it. His confidence builds when Kyle greets him formally, a little smile on his lips compared to the previous days. The food heâs presented with is delicious and warm, and Duke Riley even gives him a nod when passing by him. He gets called into Johnâs office to talk about a payrise, as well.
Everythingâs well. Going into the woods, therefore, shouldnât be a problem.
It shouldnât have been a problem.
Stumbling through the dark woods in question, cradling his bleeding leg, Graves begins to realize that heâs made a horrific misjudgment.
Why would you, of all people, want to meet here? You, soft and delicate? You, who has never known what it feels like to have a single scratch on your body?
This place isnât meant for you. You wouldnât even consider this place.
You didnât send him that letter.
And Graves is realizing it just now.
He lets out another pained shout when his foot catches onto a bear trap, falling forward. Hands and knees scratched, blood pooling under him, and covered with the dark canopy of the night sky with nothing to guide him except the dim light of the stars, Graves has never felt more hopeless.
The snapping of dead twigs and leaves, loud in the suffocating silence of the woods, makes his twist his neck to see-
Beasts. Snarling, deep dark beasts, gaping maws and rows of twisted, sharp teeth. They laugh and bark, snapping at him and there is nothing he can do to struggle back because the damned trap is still holding him down.
Behind those beasts, there is a figure. The eyes that peer at him in hatred are familiar, but Graves cannot recall their owner at this moment. Tall, blond hair, at the manor ever so often-
âYou should not have touched what doesnât belong to you, Graves.â
He is not granted enough time to think about how familiar the voice is.
And so, on a dark January night, Philip Graves disappears.
âStill no sign?â You ask, twisting your handkerchief between your hands again. Your days have been hard, lately, and grow harder the longer your lover remains missing. Though you arenât even sure if he is truly missing. If he was, then how come the rest of the servants all said that they couldnât find any of his personal belongings?
He had seemed so happy with you⌠you donât understand.
âIâm afraid not,â Simon tells you softly, coming to stand beside you. He holds a hand out for you, and despite knowing it wouldnât be proper, you do not stop him from drawing you into a hug. âThe dogs didnât find any traces of him, either.â
Your eyes move over to the two dogs curled on their respective pillows, one napping and the other chewing on a bone. You loved them; they were all over you the second Simon had brought them to you, rolling over to get stomach rubs from you. They provided a temporary retrieve from your dark and depressing thoughts, just simply holding them making you feel better.
âThey are good hunters.â Simon had told you, his knuckles gently wiping away your tears. âIf he is anywhere lost nearby, they will find him.â
But now, there wasnât a trace of him. You hated to admit it, but perhaps Philipâs leave might have been his own choiceâŚ
âDo not cry.â Simon whispers softly when he hears you sniffling, arms warm around you. You melt against him, just clinging to this comfort. âJohn will still search, but you still have all of us to help you get through this, sweetheart.â
Get through this, and get over Graves. The rest of the staff all agreed that he wasnât good for you, anyways, and the dogs had their fun.
And Simon now gets to hold and comfort you, after heâs already had quality time with the rest of his beloveds.
Your tears will dry, eventually, and your heart will open up again.
#noona.asks#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x you#gaz x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you
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cw: mentions of sex & reader menstruating, nothing detailed or explicit [for nsfw].
read part one here
three years.
three whole years of loving each other in your own chaotic way.
but when the anniversary actually rolled around, you felt like someone had hit the reset button on your social skills. standing in the kitchen that morning, you blurted out, âitâs our anniversary. weâve been together for a long time,â as if that wasnât blatantly obvious.
sukuna blinked at you from where he was tying his tie, raising an eyebrow like he couldnât believe what just came out of your mouth.
âno shit,â he deadpanned, though his lips twitched like he was holding back a smirk.
you huffed, crossing your arms. âiâm just saying. itâs... a big deal, yâknow?â
âyeah, yeah,â he muttered, brushing past you to grab his keys, but you caught the way his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual.
truthfully, neither of you were handling it well. anniversaries werenât exactly your forte. it wasnât like you didnât say âi love youâ to each other, but those words carried weight between the two of you â too much to just toss around casually.
and now, faced with the unspoken expectation to do something, both of you were stumbling like teenagers on a first date.
sukuna spent the entire morning at work distracted, fidgeting with his pen and snapping at his coworkers more than usual.
am i supposed to plan something? he thought. i was the one who proposed, does that mean itâs my job? the pressure was getting to him.
finally, he decided to keep it simple: your favorite takeout from university, a nostalgic callback to the start of everything.
meanwhile, you spent your day spiraling in a completely different direction. romantic gestures werenât exactly your specialty, but the thought of doing nothing felt worse.
so, you left work early and dove into something utterly out of character â a full-on romantic dinner, complete with candles, music, and a dish youâd only ever made once before.
by the time the evening rolled around, both of you were a mess. sukuna trudged through the door first, looking disheveled in his wrinkled work clothes, seven plastic bags in hand, each one stuffed with takeout containers. he didnât even bother taking off his shoes before stepping into the living room.
âyo, i got ââ he started, but froze mid-sentence when he saw you.
you were standing by the dining table, decked out in an outfit that screamed special occasion, with your hair done and everything. the table was set like something out of a movie: a full spread of homemade dishes, soft lighting from the candles, and an awkward tension hanging in the air because, honestly, what the hell were the two of you doing?
â...what the fuck,â sukuna finally said, his voice soft with something you couldnât quite place.
you shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. âi figured... iâd try something different.â
he stared at you for a beat, then down at the bags in his hands, then back at you. âyou made all this?â
âyeah.â you shifted on your feet. âthought itâd be nice. but uh, if you donât wanna eat it, we can always ââ
âshut up,â he cut you off, a grin breaking across his face. âyouâre insane, you know that?â
âtakes one to know one,â you shot back, but your cheeks were burning.
he dropped the bags unceremoniously on the counter and crossed the room in a few quick strides. before you could say anything else, his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle.
âyouâre ridiculous,â he mumbled against your hair. âbut youâre my ridiculous.â
you rolled your eyes but melted into his embrace. âyeah, yeah. happy anniversary, jerk.â
he laughed, low and genuine, and for a moment, the awkwardness faded. the food didnât matter. the plans didnât matter. just being here, in this little apartment you called home, with him holding you like the world didnât exist outside these walls â that was enough.
even after three years together, the idea of using the typical, sugary nicknames made you both cringe harder than nails on a chalkboard. no âbabe,â no âsweetheart,â no âlove.â for some reason, it just didnât fit.
instead, youâd toss out things like âdude,â âbro,â or, on particularly annoying days, âboy,â just to get under his skin. the way sukunaâs eye would twitch every time you called him that? priceless.
but sukuna wasnât innocent, either. his repertoire of names for you was a mix of creative insults and borderline threats, delivered with just enough affection to remind you that he didnât actually mean them.
âwoman,â âbrat,â âshit for brainsâ â those were the classics. and when he was in an especially foul mood? letâs just say the creativity really started flowing.
the funniest part? even in public, neither of you switched it up. at restaurants, when a waiter would ask for your order, youâd say, âheâll have the steak,â and sukuna would fire back with, âsheâll take the fish,â like it was the most natural thing in the world.
no âmy loveâ or âmy darling.â just âheâ and âshe,â like a couple of reluctant coworkers at a team lunch.
the one time you tried something different, it didnât end well.
âwhatâll it be, babe?â youâd asked one night, trying to suppress a grin as you glanced at him over the menu.
sukuna lowered his menu just enough to shoot you a look so disgusted you swore you could taste lemons in the air. âwhat the hell did you just call me?â
âbabe,â you repeated, forcing the word out like it physically pained you.
he grimaced, his nose wrinkling. âdonât ever do that again.â
youâd burst out laughing, and from that moment on, the unwritten rule was solidified: no âcuteâ nicknames. not unless you wanted to ruin the meal for both of you.
and yet, despite all of that, there were moments when the truth slipped through. when you were out with friends, youâd proudly call him âmy man,â as if daring anyone to challenge the claim.
and sukuna wasnât any better â heâd talk about you to his buddies like you were the most important person in the world, casually dropping âmy ladyâ into conversations like it was nothing.
but back home? it was business as usual. âyo, dude,â youâd yell from the kitchen. âdid you put the laundry in the dryer?â
âhell nah, woman,â heâd yell back. âdo it yourself.â
sure, it wasnât the most conventional display of affection, but it was yours. no sickly sweet terms of endearment, no over-the-top romantic gestures â just you and sukuna, trading insults and sharing a love that, in its own weird way, felt perfect. would you trade it?
absolutely not.
you and sukuna had never been the type to ooze affection. no heartfelt âgood lucksâ or mushy âcome home soonâ texts.
instead, your love language was passive-aggressive threats with just enough bite to keep things interesting.
âdonât fuck it up,â heâd said before your job interview, leaning casually against the counter with a smirk that hid the way his eyes lingered on you a second longer than usual.
âlook whoâs talking,â you shot back, adjusting your jacket in the mirror. âarenât you the guy who choked on his coffee before his last one?â
âwatch it, brat,â he muttered, grabbing his keys, but his lips twitched.
underneath the snark, though, there was always something unspoken. a silent, shared understanding that you were rooting for each other, even if neither of you would ever outright say it. and during that waiting period â the nerve-wracking limbo between interviews and callbacks â the usual jabs quieted.
it wasnât a truce, exactly, but you both found yourself going easier on each other. sukuna would make sure you had coffee in the mornings, leaving it on the counter without a word. and youâd restock his energy drinks without him asking, slipping them into the fridge while he wasnât looking.
when the calls finally came, first for you and then for him, the celebration was as understated as your relationship. no grand hugs or squeals of excitement â just a knowing look exchanged from across the room, a rare, genuine smile curving both your lips.
âguess you didnât screw it up,â he teased as you set your phone down, but his voice was softer than usual, the edges rounded out by pride.
âguess you didnât either,â you replied, tossing the comment back at him with a grin.
and maybe â just maybe â there was a fleeting kiss in the mix. something quick and almost shy, as if lingering too long might make the moment too heavy.
âdonât think this means youâre off the hook,â he muttered afterward, trying to play it cool, though his hand rested on your waist a beat longer than necessary.
âwouldnât dream of it,â you quipped, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze.
this was just the start, the first step in what would be your new life together. and even if it wasnât wrapped up in the typical trappings of romance, it felt right. because with sukuna, love was never about the obvious.
it was in the things left unsaid, the quiet gestures, and the stubborn refusal to admit just how much you cared â though, deep down, you both knew the truth.
you still remembered the first time sukuna kissed you.
it wasnât some grand romantic setup or a scene out of a cheesy romance flick â it was just⌠sukuna. blunt, stubborn, and perfectly him.
it was after graduation, a so-called âfirst date,â though neither of you called it that. he had taken you to the same drive-in youâd always gone to during halloween, the one with the faded screen and popcorn that tasted more like cardboard than butter.
but this time, they werenât showing the usual campy horror flicks you two loved to make fun of. no, this time it was la la land.
youâd raised an eyebrow when he mentioned it. âreally? la la land?â
âwhat? youâre too good for musicals now?â he shot back, pulling into the lot like he wasnât questioning himself at all. but you caught the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a bit, like he was bracing for you to laugh at him.
âno, just didnât know you had a thing for jazz hands,â you teased, grinning when his scowl deepened.
the movie started, but naturally, the two of you barely made it through the first twenty minutes without bickering. the popcorn bag was snatched back and forth between you, each accusing the other of hogging all the caramel-coated pieces.
âyouâre eating all the good ones!â you snapped, clutching the bag protectively.
âyouâre imagining shit, woman,â sukuna retorted, leaning over to yank it back.
in the heat of the squabble, with your faces inches apart and insults ready to fly, he kissed you. just leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, all sharp and sudden, like he had decided there was no other way to shut you up.
you froze, your brain short-circuiting for half a second, before he pulled away with a smirk that made your blood boil and your heart race all at once.
âwhat the hell was that?â you demanded, staring at him.
âyou were being annoying,â he said, like that was the most logical explanation in the world. but his smug expression faltered just a little when you glared at him, lips parted like you were about to really let him have it.
âyou donât just kiss someone and then pull away like that, you asshole,â you huffed. and before he could reply, you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him back, pouring every bit of your irritation â and maybe a little something else â into it.
the second kiss was different. softer, slower, and entirely mutual. neither of you pulled back this time, and when you finally did, both of you were slightly breathless.
âstill annoying,â he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
âstill an asshole,â you shot back, crossing your arms, though your cheeks burned so hot you were glad for the darkness of the car.
after that, there wasnât much attention paid to the movie. there was a lot more kissing, though, a lot more bantering between each one. and while neither of you would ever admit it, kissing him made you feel like a stupid, giddy teenager. like you wanted to kick your feet in the air and giggle, even if the thought made you cringe internally.
it was ridiculous, it was messy, and it was entirely the two of you. just the way you liked it.
your relationship with sukuna had always been a clash of opposites.
back in your college days, he was infamous for his revolving door of women â never the same face twice, always someone new on his arm. sukuna, the loud, reckless heartthrob who could charm his way into anyoneâs bed.
and then there was you: exclusive, reserved, someone who didnât let just anyone close enough to even try. while sukunaâs name was tossed around in gossip, yours carried a quiet weight, a mix of intrigue and admiration.
it wasnât that you were some saint â far from it. you werenât a stranger to sex, but you didnât hand it out like candy at a parade. your friends teased you about your âdry spells,â but youâd always brushed it off. you had standards, that was all.
meanwhile, sukuna? standards werenât exactly his thing, or so it seemed.
so, when the two of you somehow transitioned from bickering frenemies to a full-fledged couple, there was an unspoken tension between your histories. you knew who he was, what heâd done, and he knew exactly how tightly you held your walls up. still, you worked together, two stubborn halves of something that somehow clicked.
until one night, when things heated up unexpectedly.
it started innocent enough â if âinnocentâ was a word that could ever describe sukuna. a clumsy makeout session in his dimly lit apartment, his hands tangled in your hair, your breath mingling with his as he pressed you against the couch. it wasnât your first kiss, far from it, but this one was different. there was a weight to it, a hunger neither of you had acknowledged until now.
âyouâre terrible at this,â you muttered against his lips, though your shaky breath betrayed you.
âyeah?â he shot back, his voice low, teasing. âseems like youâre still here, so what does that say about you?â
you rolled your eyes, but before you could quip back, he kissed you again, harder this time. his hands moved to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
it escalated quickly, too quickly. his mouth moved to your neck, and you felt the scrape of his teeth against your skin. a shiver ran through you, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. this was sukuna â your sukuna â and yet, this was a side of him you hadnât faced before.
you froze slightly when his hands wandered lower, testing the waters. for a split second, you werenât sure what to do.
your mind raced with contradictions: the part of you that wanted to pull him closer, to let yourself get lost in him, and the other part that wanted to smack his hand away and call him out for moving too fast.
âseriously?â you blurted, breaking the kiss and glaring at him. âdo you ever not act like a horndog?â
he smirked, cocky as ever, though his hands eased up. âwhat? you didnât seem to mind a second ago.â
âmaybe because i was too distracted by your terrible kissing technique,â you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.
âyouâre full of shit,â he said, leaning back with an exaggerated groan. but there was something softer in his gaze, a flicker of hesitation that wasnât usually there.
âlook, if youâre not into it, just say so. iâm not gonna ââ
âshut up, sukuna,â you interrupted, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back down. your lips crashed against his, and this time, there was no hesitation.
it was messy, passionate, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you both breathless. every time you thought youâd had enough, heâd kiss you in a way that made your head spin, and youâd find yourself pulling him closer all over again.
maybe youâd slap him later for being an overconfident ass, but for now? for now, you let yourself get lost in him, in the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world heâd ever want. and, as much as you hated to admit it, you didnât regret a second of it.
sex with sukuna was its own breed of unique â a stark contrast to the wild stories he carried in his history. where you once expected a whirlwind of dominance and filthy words, what you got was something raw and unexpectedly tender, the kind of connection that made your chest ache in the best way. it wasnât the slow, candlelit romance people wrote songs about, and it wasnât some grand kink-fueled adventure. it was quiet, comfortable, and somehow, so deeply you two.
sukuna had his reputation, sure. tattoos, a sharp tongue, and an aura that practically screamed i donât care about your feelings. in his youth, you imagined heâd been the kind of guy who thrived on power plays in the bedroom, leaving women weak-kneed and breathless for all the wrong reasons. hell, he probably relished in it, back in the day.
but that wasnât what you got.
instead, he was gruff, but not in the way youâd expect. it was the kind of gruffness that came with holding back, with trying to temper himself into someone who could make you feel safe and seen. when he leaned over you, his usual arrogance was softened by something quieter, something he didnât say out loud but you could feel in the way his hands traced over your skin.
âthis okay?â heâd grumble, his voice low, trying to sound nonchalant, but you caught the way his eyes searched your face for any hesitation.
youâd nod, a little too bashful to form words, and heâd pause, eyebrows raising just slightly. âi asked if it was fine, not if you could sit there like a scared rabbit.â
âsukuna,â youâd groan, slapping his shoulder. but your face would heat up anyway, and heâd smirk like the cocky ass he was, though his hands stayed steady, patient.
if you didnât answer quickly enough, heâd ask again, his actions slowing to a near halt. âhey,â heâd say, leaning down just enough so his lips brushed your ear, âyou gonna tell me, or do I have to stop?â
âdonât stop,â youâd finally mutter, voice barely above a whisper, and heâd let out the most obnoxious chuckle, something halfway between pride and amusement.
âthought so,â heâd say smugly, resuming his movements â but gentler than his tone suggested, always so much gentler. it wasnât about control or ego, though you knew he liked to push you just enough to make you squirm. no, it was about making sure you were there with him every step of the way.
it was new, this side of him that catered to you, the way heâd catch your gaze when he thought you were feeling shy or uncertain. sometimes, you wanted to throttle him for the way heâd tease you, like it was a sport. other times, you wanted to melt into him for the way his hands would guide you, steady and secure, like he had all the time in the world for you and no one else.
but your favorite part? it was always the aftercare.
where sukuna usually thrived on chaos and crudeness, after sex, he was different. softer, quieter, almost dazed. heâd hold you like he was afraid youâd slip away, his arms wrapped around you a little tighter than usual.
âyou good?â heâd ask, his voice gruff but quiet.
youâd nod, and heâd huff, pressing his chin to your head. âdrink some water,â heâd grumble, even as he was already reaching for the glass on the nightstand.
he wouldnât joke as much, at least not in the way that made you want to kick him. instead, heâd run his fingers absentmindedly through your hair, muttering about how youâd better not go passing out on him. heâd press lazy, almost featherlight kisses to your temple, your cheek, anywhere he could reach without moving too much.
and if you curled closer to him, burying your face in his chest, he wouldnât say anything. heâd just hold you tighter, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back, grounding both of you in the moment.
sometimes, youâd laugh to yourself, thinking about how this man â this loud, sharp-edged, unapologetically rough man â had turned into a vanilla sap just for you. and other times, youâd bite your lip and blush at the thought that he was yours. completely and utterly yours.
youâd never admit it out loud, but the way he took care of you? the way he toned down all the bravado and just was with you? it made you love him more than words could ever say.
the first real fight wasnât the playful sparring you and sukuna usually indulged in. it wasnât the sarcastic quips or half-serious insults that usually left both of you laughing by the end. this time, it was different.
the argument started small, something inconsequential, but quickly spiraled into a storm of raised voices and sharp words. sukunaâs tone was harsh, and your stubbornness was just as sharp. you were used to challenging each other, but this felt heavier, like neither of you was willing to back down.
âyouâre not even listening to me!â you snapped, your voice breaking in frustration.
âyeah? and youâre so damn perfect at communicating?â sukuna shot back, his words biting.
the tension was suffocating, the air in your shared apartment thick with unresolved emotions.
and then it happened â he grabbed his jacket, slammed the door, and left.
the sound of the door shutting echoed in your ears, and you froze, your chest tight. sukuna didnât just leave. not like this.
he left home.
it wasnât just an apartment. it was the place where you built something together, where you shared quiet mornings and loud, chaotic evenings. it was the place that held laughter, tears, and everything in between.
and now it felt unbearably empty.
you wanted to scream, to throw something, to lash out at the ache in your chest. but you knew that chasing him down with your usual fire would only pour gasoline on the flames. so you swallowed your pride, slipped on your fuzzy slippers, and bolted out the door.
you spotted him a few blocks down, his tall figure unmistakable even under the dim streetlights. his pace was fast, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. he looked pissed, but there was something about the way his shoulders hunched slightly that made your heart clench.
âsukuna!â you called, your voice louder than you intended.
he didnât stop.
âdammit, will you stop walking for one second?â you yelled again, jogging to catch up to him.
when he finally turned around, his expression was a mixture of anger and surprise. âwhat the hell are you doing?â he asked, eyes narrowing. âitâs late.â
âyeah, and whose fault is that?â you shot back, before taking a deep breath. no, not this time. no more yelling.
âlook,â you started, your voice softer now, though your chest was still heaving from the sprint.
âiâm sorry. i mean it. not the sarcastic, biting kind of sorry. a real one. i shouldnât have â â you paused, struggling to find the right words. âi shouldnât have made it about winning. i was wrong.â
sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. the silence stretched, and you felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes.
â...dammit,â he muttered, his shoulders dropping. âi was a dick too.â
you blinked, surprised. sukuna rarely apologized, and when he did, it was never straightforward.
âyeah, you were,â you replied, a small, tentative smile creeping onto your face.
he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âyou donât make this easy, you know that?â
âneither do you,â you shot back, stepping closer.
he sighed, his hands leaving his pockets to pull you into a hug that was as awkward as it was comforting. âyouâre lucky i didnât get too far,â he grumbled into your hair.
âyouâre lucky i chased after you,â you countered, though you clung to him just as tightly.
and just like that, the tension broke. it wasnât perfect â there were still things to talk about, wounds to mend â but in that moment, wrapped in each otherâs arms on a dimly lit street, you both knew this was home.
sukuna would never say it outright â hell, heâd rather swallow nails than admit it â but he had your back when it came to that time of the month.
he tracked your cycle like a tactical mission, not because he was obsessed with you or anything (his words), but because it was easier to prepare than to deal with the aftermath of being caught off guard.
âwhat, you think i like listening to you whine about not having your stupid chocolate?â heâd grumble, dumping a bag of your favorite snacks onto the counter with an air of exaggerated suffering. but there was no mistaking the care behind the gesture, no matter how much he tried to play it off.
medicines? stocked. pads and tampons? stocked. heating pads? ready to go. hell, he even had a backup stash of painkillers tucked into his drawer at work in case you ran out at home.
he wasnât perfect, of course. sukuna had zero patience when you were in one of your mood swings, snapping at him for breathing too loudly or sitting âwrong.â but heâd weather it, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath.
âyou done yelling at me, or you wanna go another round?â heâd ask, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.
but the moment you started crying â whether it was over a sad commercial or pure frustration â his entire demeanor shifted.
âhey, hey, cut that out,â heâd say, pulling you into his chest despite his grumbling. âyouâre not allowed to cry over dumb shit while iâm around, alright? iâll give you something real to cry about.â
when you were touch-starved, heâd let you cling to him, even if it meant sitting through a three-hour movie youâd already watched ten times. when you were touch-repulsed, heâd keep his distance but stay close enough to hand you water or make sure you were comfortable.
and when you were too tired to shower, heâd step in without hesitation, grumbling all the while. âcanât believe iâm doing this,â heâd mutter as he adjusted the water temperature and gently washed your hair. âyou owe me a massage or something after this.â
heâd change the bedsheets without complaint, tossing you one of his oversized shirts afterward. âdonât stretch it out, or iâll kick your ass,â heâd say, but you both knew he didnât mean it. he even kept a corner of his closet stocked with clothes he didnât mind you ruining â shirts and sweatpants that were practically yours at this point, though heâd never admit it.
âdonât get used to this,â heâd say, watching as you shuffled into the living room in his clothes, burritoed in a blanket. but the way his gaze softened as you curled up on the couch, finally comfortable, betrayed him.
for all his rough edges, sukuna handled you with a quiet kind of love â grumbling, sarcastic, but steady. he might call it âdealing with your bullshit,â but deep down, you both knew better.
it wasnât a night youâd easily forget â not because of the celebration itself, but because of what came out of your mouth when you were deep into a rum-induced haze.
the bar was alive with the thrum of music and the clang of glasses, laughter and shouting merging into a chaotic symphony that somehow suited you and sukuna. the two of you had ridden in on bikes, looking like a mismatched pair of rebels â him towering, tatted, and menacing, and you just as fierce but smaller, less overtly intimidating.
"you know," sukuna drawled, leaning against the bar with a lazy grin that had been charming women for years, âif you werenât already mine, iâd be trying to pick you up right now.â
you rolled your eyes, though your own grin betrayed how much you enjoyed the rare moment of his playful charm. âyouâre an idiot,â you shot back, taking another shot and wincing as it burned down your throat.
but then, in the lull between his next teasing remark, you blurted it out. âi love you.â
the words landed like a hammer.
sukuna froze, the smirk slipping from his face. the rowdy atmosphere of the bar seemed to fade into static as he stared at you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was trying to gauge whether or not heâd heard you correctly.
"what?" he asked, voice lower than usual, his usual bravado stripped away.
you blinked at him, too tipsy to care about the weight of what you just said. âi love you, stupid. donât make me say it again.â
and just like that, it was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. sukuna, the guy who had once been a whirlwind of hookups and no-strings-attached chaos, was sober in an instant. not because he didnât like what he heard â no, it was the opposite. it was because those words had been lodged somewhere deep inside him, waiting for the right moment to claw their way out, even if he refused to admit it to himself.
he didnât say anything right away. instead, he paid the tab, his movements oddly methodical, and threw his leather jacket over your shoulders.
âcâmon,â he muttered, voice gruff as he guided you to the door.
âwhatâs the rush?â you slurred, stumbling slightly as he helped you onto the bike.
âthe rush is youâre drunk and saying shit you donât mean,â he snapped, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
you didnât protest after that, leaning into him as he drove the two of you home. by the time you reached the apartment, he was practically hauling you inside, grumbling about how you were a lightweight.
as he set you down on the couch and pulled a blanket over you, the words escaped him, unbidden and softer than heâd have liked.
âi love you too, idiot.â
he thought you were out cold, your breathing slow and even. but the faintest smile tugged at your lips, and a quiet mumble escaped you:
âheard that.â
he froze, a flush creeping up his neck. âshut up and go to sleep,â he barked, but the gentleness with which he tucked you in betrayed him.
you didnât say anything else, and neither did he, but the air between you felt lighter, warmer. it wasnât perfect or grand, but it was yours â messy, stubborn, and just enough.
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I thought this was a gorgeous photo so I followed the source link to this great interview with the photographer, rural street photographer Kate Kirkwood. There are many more lovely examples of her work there but this answer particularly stood out to me:
How do you define street photography?  Perhaps many genres can be âstreetâ if you donât determine what youâre going to shoot before hand. A few years ago I had the experience of seeing the best photographic exhibition in my life; was a huge show of Henri Cartier-Bressonâs work. I was immediately afflicted, I wanted to try this art, street photography, too. But where I live, I see the postman once a day and sometimes I donât see anyone else for days. When I go to the city, the best treat is to simply wander the streets. However, because I live out in a rural area, I enjoy what I have, approaching moments and unfolding spaces in rural spaces with the mindset of a street photographer, even though I donât live in a place with people. I suppose I try for a kind of rural street photography, although Iâm also trying to find fresh ways with the possibilities of landscape photography.
Street photography requires an abandoned sense of wonderment, an openness. But you canât just click away and assume that the act in itself will muster up an image. Itâs so rare; itâs that little crucial moment that I think might be symbolized by the way Cartier-Bresson used to pop up on his tippy toes as he pressed the shutter. Seldom, if ever, can I claim to have snaffled what Roland Bartheâs calls âpunctumâ. Street photography offers a kind of slow accretion of modest wisdom. The more you photograph, the keener your observation, the more you notice about the world ⌠perhaps you grow a little wiser each time because youâre in a state of watching out.
Decades ago I was involved with an anti-apartheid publishing house my then husband ran and some of the ground-breaking young photographers of that time in Johannesburg had a dark room at the back of the place and they offered my first understanding of what documentary photography is about. I often consider and puzzle over the difference between documentary and street photography. Documentary photography has a responsibility while street photography doesnât. Yet it tells a lot of truths. Street brings attention to our foibles and reminds us of delight. Itâs lovely to go to exhibitions of street photographers you know and see the public responding to the delight in everyday life. Itâs like enhancing all the little things that happen when we donât have our cameras.
Iâm not so keen on street photography which is malicious, grossly intrusive or that pokes fun at vulnerable people. I prefer and enjoy photographs which are taken with a kind of tenderness and respect. This is a tricky differentiation; I enjoy much of Martin Parrâs work and heâs a great one at poking fun, of celebrating our ludicrious possibilities. Perhaps it should be celebratory rather than derisory, although I strongly believe we should always deride misused or misplaced powerâŚ
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Between The Lines
Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.
Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series
These can be read in any order!
"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.
"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.
"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to our gullibility and youall fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.
Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.
"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."
The both of them look up so Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.
Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."
"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.
Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.
Script Summary:
Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.
"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.
They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.
"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.
"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."
Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.
"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.
"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.
"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.
"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.
The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.
You all hardly take them out before escaping.
"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.
"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."
There's silence.
A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"
"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.
"For JJ." They all agree.
"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.
End of Script*
You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.
"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.
You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.
"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.
Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.
-
Itâs a Friday nightâor, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldnât be back.
After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidenceâonly to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.
âDrew! Oh my god, you scared me.â Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. âSorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. Thereâs one driver still waiting downstairs.â His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.
âYou sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,â you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.
âThatâs the beauty of insomnia.â He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. âYou canât wake up tired if you never really sleep.â
The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldnât quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:
âSo where are youââ âHow did youââ
You broke into quiet laughter, and Drewâs mouth twitched with amusement. âYou first,â he said, giving you a slight nod.
âHow did you know I hadnât already left with the others?â you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his faceâan emotion too quick to nameâbefore a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.
âI did some askin' around,â he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.
âAh,â you said with a smirk, âso you missed me?â
Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didnât respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.
âYou could say that,â he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if youâd imagined the whole thing.
The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drewâs shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.
Drew didnât dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.
When you arrived, he sprang into action. âCâmon, we donât have time to waste,â he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.
You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everythingâtickets, baggage check, even navigating customsâwith practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasnât just organized; he was determined.
âDo you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?â you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.
He shot you a look, his lips twitching. âI'm not a huge fan of being late,â was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.
Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.
âI was starting to think you two wouldnât make it,â she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.
âDrew made sure that didnât happen,â you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldnât quite suppress.
From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didnât know what youâd said, but it didnât matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.
As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.
And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldnât stop thinking about you. Couldnât stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulderâor wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.
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