#i probably spent way too much time on this

[xo100]

Hi! Could I ask Lando with pregnant reader. Like maybe her getting dizzy bc of all the paparazzis and fans surrounding. Maybe angsty. Dunno if you'll like the idea, but I honestly love ur work soo much

Our little miracle - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1244

*:･ﾟ A/N: first of all I want to say sorry for not being so active lately! I’ve been busy with school and work, I didn’t had any time to write! Second I want to say thank you so much anon! I hope you like this story too! If not let me known!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The late morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming the bedroom and casting soft golden streaks on the walls. The gentle hum of the city outside was barely audible over the rhythmic sound of Lando’s breathing beside you. His arm was slung lazily over your waist, his warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting blanket.

You blinked sleepily, turning your head to look at him. His face was still soft with sleep, his hair a wild mess of curls that begged to be smoothed down. He looked so peaceful like this, so completely at ease, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Caught you staring,” he mumbled, his voice raspy as his lips curled into a sleepy grin.

“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.

“Sure,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You’ve been staring at me every morning for the past five years. It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Good morning, Lando.”

“Morning,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were warm and bright, like pools of melted chocolate, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you. “Guess what day it is?”

You blinked, still half-asleep. “Uh… Saturday?”

“Baby shopping day,” he announced, his grin widening.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You’re more excited about this than I am.”

“Of course I am!” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “We’re picking out stuff for our baby. This is a big deal.”

It was a big deal. After months of trying—months of hope and heartbreak—you were finally here. Fourteen weeks pregnant, your little miracle growing inside you. It still didn’t feel real sometimes, like you were dreaming and could wake up at any moment.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you said softly, your hand resting on your small but growing bump.

“It’s happening,” Lando said, covering your hand with his. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “And I can’t wait to spoil both of you today.”

---

The car ride into the city was filled with laughter and teasing. Lando, as usual, couldn’t resist cracking jokes, trying to lighten the nerves you hadn’t even realized you were feeling.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “What if we name the baby after a car? Like… Ferrari Norris. Or McLaren Norris. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not. Our child is not going to be named after a car brand.”

“Fine,” he said, pretending to pout. “But if they grow up to be a racer, I’m taking full credit for the inspiration.”

The boutique Lando had chosen was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, its window displays filled with pastel-colored baby clothes and wooden toys. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the soft scent of lavender and the faint sound of a lullaby playing over the speakers.

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the rows of tiny clothes and baby accessories. “This is it,” he said, grabbing your hand. “This is where we find all the cool stuff.”

You spent the next hour wandering the store, debating over cribs and strollers, laughing as Lando tried to convince you that the baby absolutely needed a mini Formula 1 onesie.

“Come on,” he said, holding it up with a grin. “How cute would they look in this?”

“They’d look adorable,” you admitted, “but they’ll probably outgrow it in a month.”

“Worth it,” he said, tossing it into the shopping basket.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Seeing him like this—so excited, so ready to dive headfirst into parenthood—made your heart swell with love.

---

By the time you left the store, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the streets were bustling with activity. Lando carried the shopping bags in one hand, his other arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

You didn’t notice the paparazzi at first.

It started with a few flashes, the sudden brightness making you blink. Then came the voices—shouting questions and calling Lando’s name.

“Lando! Over here!” “How’s the season going?” “Is it true you’re expecting?”

The crowd seemed to grow out of nowhere, fans and photographers swarming around you. The noise was overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks that made your head spin.

“Lando,” you said softly, gripping his arm.

He turned to you immediately, his eyes scanning your face. “Hey, are you okay?”

You tried to nod, but the dizziness was already setting in. The flashes, the shouting, the crush of bodies—it was too much.

“I don’t feel…” Your voice trailed off as your vision blurred.

Lando didn’t hesitate. Dropping the shopping bags, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “Alright, that’s enough!” he snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. “Back off! She’s pregnant. Give her some space!”

The crowd faltered, the realization rippling through them. But Lando didn’t wait for them to comply. He guided you away from the chaos, his body shielding yours as he led you down a quieter side street.

“Breathe, love,” he said softly, stopping to face you. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “In and out. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, focusing on his voice, his touch. The dizziness slowly faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt creeping in. “I ruined our day.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Lando said, his tone gentle but firm. “You and the baby come first. Always.”

You managed a weak smile. “Even over baby sneakers?”

“Even over baby sneakers,” he said, grinning. “But just barely.”

---

Back at home, the chaos of the day felt like a distant memory. Lando had insisted on ordering takeout, claiming that you deserved to be spoiled after the ordeal.

As you sat on the couch, surrounded by the shopping bags you’d managed to bring home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Lando was in the kitchen, humming softly as he poured you a glass of water.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you before sitting down beside you. His hand immediately found its way to your stomach, resting there gently.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m okay,” you said, covering his hand with yours. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he said quietly, his voice filled with wonder.

“Me too,” you whispered, leaning into him.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of the shopping bags.

“You know,” Lando said after a moment, “I meant what I said earlier. You and the baby come first. Always.”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “I know,” you said. “And I love you for it.”

“I love you too,” he said, his eyes shining with emotion. “More than anything.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, you realized that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Lando would face them together.

And that was all that mattered.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 6 (the finale)

Our time has come, this labor of love is *finished* (at least for now, i could probably be convinced to return to these loves soon)

warnings: none pairing: lando x singlemom!reader word count: 2k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername cold but happy carlossainz still can't believe you convinced Lando to spend Christmas in the cold. >>>yourusername oh it wasn't me! Stella said she wanted to learn how to ski, next thing I know he's booking a 2 week trip to Switzerland! >>>landonorris what my girl wants, my girl gets. 🤷🏻

Christmas, 2025 "Momma, are you sure Santa knows to bring my presents here this year and to not leave them at home?" The concern etched on Stella's face has you grinning into your wine glass.

"Yes, my darling." You assure her, patting her head as she snuggles deeper into Lando's side. "I wrote him a letter weeks ago, remember? You were with me when we mailed it! When you wake up tomorrow morning, all of your presents will be underneath that tree right over there."

This had been Stella's number one concern ever since Lando had announced that he'd booked a house at one of the most exclusive resorts in Gstaad, Switzerland for the Christmas holiday. You had spent a significant amount of time since discussing the fact that yes, Santa did know she wasn't going to be at home this year and yes, he would be able to deliver her presents here instead.

You had been in the mountain town for a few days now, spending nearly every waking moment on the slopes. It was beginning to feel routine, the way you all woke up around the same time and had breakfast together before getting your snow gear on and heading out onto the mountain. You had enrolled Stella in ski school that first day, despite Lando's protests that he could absolutely teach her to ski by himself, and she was thriving. It took a Herculean effort to get her off of her skis every evening but you were happy Stella was having fun.

Today you had managed to get Stella off the mountain early in order to go to dinner with Max and Pietra, who were also staying at the resort for Christmas. Max's initial reservations about Lando dating a single mom had long since evaporated into thin air, after he had seen how much both Stella and Lando adored each other this year. By the middle of the summer, you and Pietra had also become much closer as well, so you enjoyed traveling with Lando's friends who you now considered yours as well.

There was a crackling fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of the external wall of the large four bedroom chalet-style home and above the fireplace, Elf played on the tv. Stella was snuggled up between you and Lando, her head buried underneath Lando's arm, while her feet were stretched across your lap. Lando's arm is flung over the side of the couch, his fingers tangled in yours as his thumb brushes soft circles over the back of your hand. After a few days with a lot of activity, it felt nice to finally spend the evening relaxing in the quiet of your own space.

As the credits to Elf begin to roll, you tap Stella's feet, a signal that it's time to get moving. "Come on, baby girl, it's time for bed. Go brush your teeth and then I'll be in to read more of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and tuck you in, okay? The sooner you get to sleep, the faster Santa comes!"

Stella stretches out her legs and whines, sounding a lot like a cat after it wakes up from a long nap. "I want Dad to tuck me in tonight."

The entire world goes still as you suck in a breath at the name she just used for the very first time. On the other side of the couch, you see Lando freeze too, gaze snapping straight to you as his fingers tighten around yours. The request has your heart squeezing in your chest, a response to her question simply unable to form in your brain.

Stella senses the mood shift in the room and glances up first at you and then over at Lando. "What? Can't Daddy tuck me in just this once?"

Daddy.

Lando's stomach does a somersault up into his throat as he grips onto your hand for reassurance. Had she just...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise, he'd realize later once Stella was fast asleep and you were curled up in his arms in your shared bed. Ever since Silverstone back in July, Lando had practically moved in to your house in all but name. He'd decided to rent out his Monaco apartment to one of the new rookie drivers next season, choosing to remain full time in England where you were. The teachers and parents at school all knew him not as Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver but as the man that often picked up Stella from school whenever he was able to. Stella's teacher had even begun including him on her weekly email newsletters she always sent out on Friday afternoons. He was as ingratiated into this family as both you and Stella were.

But hearing her call him dad for the first time? The new title did something to Lando's heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from.

Emotion claws at his throat as he struggles to find the simple words to answer her request.

"Of course he can, honey." You whisper, seeing the shock and adoration sit heavy on Lando's face. Your own voice is with thick with emotion too. "Do you need help finding some jammies to change into?" You ask as Stella slowly gets up from her little nest between you and Lando.

"Dad can help me." She says with a shrug, as if the name is the most natural thing in the world.

Lando moves to get off the couch as Stella pads down the hallway, the brand new teddy bear she had conned him into buying at a shop today tucked into the crook of her elbow. He squeezes your shoulder as you look up at him, brilliant smile stretching over your face.

"You okay?" You ask as he rounds the couch, following behind Stella, dazed look still on his face.

Lando rubs at the back of his neck, stopping for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes shimmer with tears as he glances behind him and then back at you. "I think so...is...is that okay with you? Her calling me..." He pauses, trying to work his mouth around the next word, "dad like that?"

You're surprised to see concern flit across his face, like you could possibly be upset at what had just happened. "Lando." You murmur, rising from the couch to stand in front of him. You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are warm despite the fact that his kiss is hesitant at first. He quickly reads the emotion you pour into him though: confidence, love, desire. All of it positive and he knows without needing to hear anything vocalized that you're just happy about his new title as he is.

You tuck your head into his neck, nuzzling at the warm spot you love so much. "She loves you so much and so do I. You're the best thing that could have ever happened to us, Lando Norris."

Lando chuckles. "I think it's the opposite way around, my love. You two are the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

"DAAAAAAD" From the end of the hall, Stella's little voice calls out and you both can't help the laugh that pulls you apart. "I'm waaaaaaiting!!! Stop kissing Momma and come read to me!" She demands.

"The Princess awaits." Lando mutters before giving you one last peck on the cheek and turning away to walk down the hall towards Stella's room.

Over an hour later and you're 2 glasses of wine deeper than you were when Lando left you, still sitting alone on the couch. You're beginning to think he's fallen asleep putting Stella to bed only because you've done the same thing countless amounts of times over the years when you hear the door to her room whisper open.

"You were in there a long time." You murmur as Lando sits down on the couch before he pulls you into his lap. You set the wine glass down on the side table next to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Stella and I had some things to discuss." He says lightly.

Lando's body relaxes as he tucks his head into your neck. If there's one thing you adore about your boyfriend you'll adore until the ends of time it's how affectionate he is. He's always touching you when you're near and he never gives half-hearted hugs, they're something he pours his full body into. The same goes with cuddling, it's never halfway with Lando when it comes to physical affection and you simply cannot ever get enough.

"Oh?" You laugh, grinning at him. "And what are you two plotting now?"

Lando shifts, glancing away as if he's nervous to answer your question. "Stella calling me dad just had me thinking about things..."

You lift an eyebrow. "Things?"

"Yeah" Lando nods. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer into his chest. "I just got to thinking and maybe it’s time we make things official."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion has you pulling away from him so you can look at him. There's a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you have to resist the urge to kiss him, despite the fact that you are fully lost as to what he's talking about. "You’ve been calling me your girlfriend for months now?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean official official. With this." Lando lifts his hips off the couch and pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket. For the second time that night, your heart stalls in your chest, world tilting a bit on its axis.

"Lan." You whisper before sucking in a breath as he opens the top of the ring box. Nestled in the black velvet sits the most gorgeous ring you'd ever laid eyes on. It's simple and perfect and something you would have picked out on your own had you been let loose in a jewelry store.

"Marry me, baby." Lando's voice is thick, anxiety and nerves evident in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. "I never want to go back to a world where you and Stella aren't in my life. Stella sees me as her dad, I hope you can see me as your husband and father of the rest of our babies one day. I love you so much l. Spend the rest of your life with me?

It's a wonder the sound of your heart clattering against your ribcage doesn't wake Stella up it's so loud. Blood rushes past your ears so loudly, the sounds of the house are muffled for a moment and all you can do is stare at Lando. He doesn't move, a look of anxiety and love and hundreds of other emotions sitting so plainly on his face you can barely form a thought.

"Of course. Oh my god. Of course." Your right hand finds his cheek and you frame his face with your hand as he takes your left hand before slipping the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.

"Yeah?" A wash of relief crashes over Lando because for a moment he thought you were about to reject him.

When he had finished reading a chapter of Stella's book to her, he had as casually as he could brought up the idea of them being a family for real next year. Stella had been a bit confused, asking him if the weren't already a real family but Lando had quickly explained he meant he wanted to marry you but only if Stella thought that was a good idea because she was part of their family too and what she thought mattered to him just as much as what you thought.

You nod, laughing through your tears before crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Yeah." You mutter against his mouth.

"I was going to do this tomorrow morning" Lando pulls away, glancing down at your hand that's still captured between his. "But it just felt right tonight. Stella was so excited, she started asking what kind of dress she’d get to wear at the wedding."

"Oh Lando." You coo before you allow him to lay you down on the couch, kissing you as he goes.

yourusername (private) posted

123 likes liked by BFFSarah, CarlosSainz, yourdad, and others yourusername mrs. norris has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? 😘 BFFSarah OH. MY. GOD. I'm sobbing. Bestie. I love you. I love him. I love Stella. I'm so happy for you!!! >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ thank you babes >>>BFFSarah sorry, back again to tell you holy SHIT that ring!! @/landonorris you did good!! >>>landonorris why thank you! ☺️

landonorris posted

1,098,874 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, zakbrownceo, and others landonorris santa can't compete with my present this year zakbrownceo congratulations to both of you!!! we'll have to throw a little party when you're back in the new year! >>>yourusername thanks zak!! you are too good to us! user009 the gold digger got what she wanted...how long til she's knocked up with baby number 2? gotta get that bag somehow... >>>user221 seriously. bro fell for the oldest trick in the book. fucking gross. >>>user223 hey so this is a fucking WILD thing to say about someone you don't even know so publicly. JESUS. user928 OH MY GOD THEY'RE ENGAGED user230 we're going to get dad lando content FOREVER >>>user929 the way i live for stella/lando content and now we get even MORE??? Yes please!!!

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[goddamnitmahtin]

This is too good… I must add because what if…

During one of their meetups

Tim, sleep deprived and desperate for coffee, “Robu…. I need you.” He slumped onto Danny’s couch

Now normally, Danny wouldn’t prefer to be referred to as a coffee brand all the time but… this was Tim. And it was Tim’s favorite coffee… so in a way… it was like he was Tim’s favorite coffee? It was hard to explain but Danny knew that he liked it a lot. More than he probably should have.

He placed the cup of coffee into his fake boyfriend’s hands. His very big hands. Course from working so hard being all heroic in the field of duty. Calloused and bruised, no doubt broken and reset dozens of times. The hands of a vigilante who was fully and utterly alive.

Danny was never jealous of Tim for that. Infact… he was very happy for Tim that he was so alive. Heartbeats are a good thing of course. And his was very nice. Steady and always going 100 miles a minute from the amount of caffeine he consumed. He supposed he should stop providing said caffeine but he spent his whole life being selfless. He was going to let himself be selfish this one time. He didn’t want to stop seeing his fake boyfriend.

“How long has it been this time?” Danny asked, trying not to sound too suspicious, “Since you’ve slept?”

He watched as the adorable mess of a man slumped over his couch sighed, “Um- 6- no- 8? Um- 74 hours or so?”

Well it wasn’t as bad as sometimes at least. He knew that it was bad for him to be awake so long. Sometimes on their “fake dates” Danny suggested movie nights just so he would take a nap. He wanted Tim’s heart to keep beating so he could keep listening to the sound.

Danny nodded, “Busy man you are.” He made sure his body blocked the coffee table from Tim’s view. He hadn’t properly put his mail out of sight before his vigilante had come to see him and he knew that Tim was nothing if not a detective.

Tim noticed the awkwardness coming from him immediatly, “Hey why are you hiding your mail from me?”

Dammit Tim why do you have to be so smart and perfect all the fucking time-

Danny laughed nervously, “I’m not- doing that…”

Tim sat up and gently adjusted Danny out of the way to look at the papers, grabbing him by the waist to do so.

Danny swooned only a little when he felt those big hands on his hips. Momentarily, he very much forgot why he was hiding his mail from Tim. But not long enough for the distraction to stop him from trying to grab the papers before Tim could reach them.

He failed.

Tim looked at the eviction notice in his hand, “Danny you never told me- I could have given you more money?!” He looked bewildered and confused. And more than that. Danny could tell there was a bit of fear in his eyes. He understood. He felt it too.

“Money isn’t the problem Tim, you give me more than enough,” Danny said fidgeting with the tracker fashionably dangling from his ear, “Everyone in the building got one. Ms. Abernathy sold it under the table to some shady company.”

Tim looked outright pissed, “What company is it?”

“I don’t remember but I remember hearing the name of it and thinking it sounded fake as hell. Probably why we are all getting kicked out instead of our leases transferring to the new owner. Ms. Abernathy doesn’t want her tenants in a bad situation,” Danny explained. He may not have been a vigilante anymore but hey, he still knew shady shit when he saw it.

Then a ding from Tim’s Nightwing tracker. And then immediately after, he feels another presence outside the window. The other birds were spying again.

“Move in with me,” Tim blurted out.

Danny… well Danny…. Danny fucking short circuited.

“Wha-?” was all he could get out. Normally he was better at improvising but ancients be damned, the cutest man ever just asked him to move in with him.

“Look I know I said we should wait since I didn’t want you in harms way if any rogues found my apartment but…” Tim wrapped his arms around Danny’s waist AGAIN, “I trust you to be able to defend yourself (after Danny broke into the Batcave as Phantom, Danny told him everything because why wouldn’t he) and honestly… I’de love having you around more often Robu.”

Danny’s breath caught as he felt those callouses on his hips again. He watched Tim stand to look him eye to eye and felt his entire core purr as one of those calloused hands moved to his cheek. Tim was really playing it up.

Danny could play it up too, “Aw is the tracker not enough anymore Timothy?” He wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, bringing his face closer, “Of course I’ll move in with you. But don’t think I’ll be taking it off.” (Danny was referring to the tracker)

Tim smiled, “Don’t you dare.”

Then they kissed. Like on the lips. Cuz they were acting. Yeah, that. It didn’t stop Danny from adoring how Tim tasted of coffee though.

The next minute they were packing a few bags of Danny’s things and heading off to the new apartment.

While his core buzzed excitedly about the future of much more close proximity, Danny’s mind couldn’t help but wander off a little. They had gone this far. And Tim had a nickname for him. Maybe he should come up with one for Tim? He called him Tim or Timothy mostly, sometimes throwing other names in there to see if they stuck but nothing ever did. He called him Birdie once and the man gave him the biggest glare he had ever seen. It was attractive but not the response he was hoping for.

Danny knew a lot about death. Obviously. He also knew the irony of Tim’s vigilante persona Red Robin. The most alive man he had ever met used the name of a bird of death. Most people only know about the associations from cardinals, many stating that the dead send the bird to their loved ones as reminders of them.

What not as many people knew was that this was also extended to red robins. Red robins also had a double meaning when it came to the dead as they represented rebirth and starting anew. The same meaning as an upright death card in the tarot deck.

If anything… of the two of them Danny was the red robin. Tim was more of a…. swan. Yeah a swan. Loyalty, fidelity, and grace. Swans also mate for life but Danny wasn’t going to think about that. He knew Tim probably didn’t do that kind of thing like ghosts did. But it was a nice thought that he wasn’t going think about at all.

He set down the box with his clothes in it. He didn’t have very many. Most of the clothes he had were from before he moved here and most of that was destroyed in Amity Park when his parents found out what he was. It was… a lot of fire.

The rest of the clothes he had… well he kinda slowly stole them from Tim whenever he finally decided to shower and crash out whenever he stayed the night.

It wasn’t weird. He trusted Danny to wake him up before he had to leave for work. It wasn’t weird at all. Infact… Danny’s core quite liked it whenever he would stay.

“Well that’s all of my stuff,” he said.

Tim nodded, looking at all 4 boxes and 1 backpack, “Well it’s a good thing you pack so light. Too bad that couch wasn’t yours. It was comfy as fuck.”

Danny chuckled, “The bed wasn’t mine either.”

At that Tim laughed as well, “I know Robu. It was far too comfortable for you to afford.”

Danny scoffed, though the thoughts of his hometown that were brought up by how little stuff he had didn’t leave completely, “Wow thanks.”

Tim’s posture straitened. Dammit. Tim always fucking knew.

“What are you thinking about,” he asked, getting close. He always did that. Got close. He knew Danny sought comfort in physical contact. He could hear a difference in Tim’s heartbeat from the genuine concern.

Danny looked up at him, “Amity… my parents…”

Tim nodded, “Do you want to talk about it or a distraction?”

Ancients, this man was so fucking perfect.

“Distraction please,” Danny sighed, letting his head fall against Tim’s chest. He wanted to listen to his heartbeat. It was nice. And Tim held him for a while just like that. Talking about how he was going to buy a brand new bed for Danny and that after that, he was going to make 3 new tracker earrings all in different colors so that he could always have one on him no matter the outfit (As if Danny didn’t wear the silver one he already had everywhere).

One day… one day maybe it could be real. But until then… having Tim like this was going to have to be enough. It was better than having never met him at all. He couldn’t let go of his swan.

Extra:

*a few days into them living together*

Danny on the phone: So yeah I’m living with Tim now.

Jazz on the other line: So he’s your boyfriend? You could have just said that Danny.

Danny blushing furiously: N-no!

Jazz: Danny… from what you’ve told me, you live together, you eat together, you do laundry together, he knows your past, you know his…. you sleep in the same bed!

Danny: I- well- the new one hasn’t come in yet and before that it was only sometimes!

Jazz: Uhuh. And denial is a river in Egypt.

Danny: Jazz….

Jazz: Daniel the man has a tracker in your ear! So, what did you decide to call him?

Danny: *blushing profusely* I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Jazz: You can’t hide from me. I know your brain Daniel Fenton! He has a nickname for you so obviously you came up with one for him.

Danny: Fine… he’s… my Swan.

Jazz: ….. (processing) …. (Google searching the meaning)…. (Reading) …. Danny you are so insufferably corny. I hope you know that.

Danny smiling: He reminds me all the time.

Jazz smiling wider: Uhuh.

Danny, working as a cashier: Can I help you?

Tim half-deranged: Please I just want a cup of coffee

Danny squinted, then pulled out a binder: I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-

Tim: NO. THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!

Danny leaning in to whisper: Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash.

Tim: how much? Five hundred, six hundred or hell even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want.

Danny: Chill dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine.

Tim: It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand and Bruce bought them out just to make sure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!

Danny: okay okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?

Jason three weeks later in Bat cave: Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention.

Dick: What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!

Bruce: I also thought that was Tim boyfriend but if it's a drug dealer we have to help him.

Tim hiding in the shadows: shit.

Tim texting Danny: If anyone asks your my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny: who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend.

[sweetpupii]

tw: non-con, somno, fingering & cunnilingus ( r!receiving ), reader cries just a little, praising, overstimulation, abby being the sweetest girl ever ( pretty ironic ) | 1.6k words.

having long nails is great.

they look cute, you can match them with your outfit and your makeup, you get some compliments, they're amazing at scratching and all that.

“wanna know what's frustrating though?” you start, mindlessly scrolling on your phone while abby looks at your new set of nails, her own unmanicured hand holding yours. “not to be, you know, nasty but I feel like I'm gonna slash my pussy open if I try to stick a finger in there the wrong way.”

only a low hum of agreement can be heard from the blonde as she leans back against the couch of your shared apartment, tracing the design that's beautifully decorating the nail on your middle finger. yeah, that looks like it would hurt real bad.

“then get a toy. there is more stuff you can use.”

“of course I know that, but I don't have time either. at this point I feel like a nun!” a ( kinda whiny ) sigh escaping your lips at the mere thought of all the weeks spent unsatisfied. coming home late and tired didn't give you much time to even grab a toy like abby suggested.

but luckily, you have a very thoughtful roommate!

this woman would do anything—and I mean anything—to see you happy because that's what friends are for. helping and supporting each other during tough times and, let me tell you, being sexually frustrated definitely counts as one.

“abby? what the fu—mhggm” her hand quickly went over your mouth to stop your protests to get louder and more panicked while the other worked to keep your legs and arms from pushing her face away. why are you acting so surprised to see her in between your legs when she's just trying to help? it's not like you would be able to push her away but jeez, didn't expect such an ungrateful response.

yes, she woke you up by making out with your pussy but you were basically asking for it earlier.

“gonna make you feel good.” she promised before she kept lapping at your cunt like a starved woman. slurping you up like you're her favorite dish. feeling the vibration of your desperate, muffled sounds against her palm made her speak again. “shh, I won't hurt you.”

taking off your underwear while you sleep, holding you down, forcing your mouth shut and your legs open doesn't hurt! not if you stay still, at least.

her plan was simple.

if she made you feel good by eating you out, using her own fingers to reach places you currently couldn't ( and probably have never been able to ) reach while you slept then you would surely wake up in a good mood and thank her with that precious smile of yours and maybe even a kiss.

but noooo, you decided to wake up in the middle of it and panic. ugh, just when your body was responding so well to her touch. she had seen the way your cunt was glistening when she started to slowly kiss it. the moonlight slipping through your curtains making the sight even prettier, and she'll be lying if she said the thought of taking a picture didn't cross her mind.

but a little crying from you won't stop her, even if she feels the hot tears against her skin.

she's still holding your legs open so she can continue to suck and lick at your clit, tongue tracing each fold and sensitive bit. your hips bucking into her face—but she's not sure if you're liking it and want more or you're trying to push her away.

“don't scream, okay baby?” she whispered against the soft skin on your inner thigh, peppering small kisses, while looking up at your watery eyes, “I'll be so gentle. trust me.”

actually, what other choice do you have? this woman can literally bench press 205 lbs. you get on her bad side and a single smack takes you back to your mother's womb. she has a mean right hook too, those punching bags stand no chance.

but again, it's abby who we're talking about.

the blondie that cuddles you to sleep anytime your bed feels too cold, who makes stupid jokes to cheer you up even if she cringes so fucking hard immediately after, who lets you try to count every freckle on her skin without even asking why, who can listen to you talk for hours and pay attention to every word, the one that drunkenly tells you how glad she is that you're her roommate and friend while kissing your shoulder even if deep down she wishes for more than that and stares at you as if you are the most important thing in the world—because to her you truly are.

so maybe she really just wants to make you feel good...

the second the fear and confusion in your eyes turns into something more calm, seeing the slow nod of your head, the small hiccup and your legs no longer struggling, she pulls her hand away from your mouth to trace the other set of lips, gathering the mixture of her saliva and your fluids on her fingertips before gently pushing one inside. “there we go…nice and slow.”

she might've been wrong for not asking first but how was she supposed to resist the feeling of your warm, tight walls squeezing her fingers just right as she curls them inside. soaking her knuckles in a shiny coat of stickiness that makes her want to dive in face first again and taste it until it becomes the only flavor she'll ever remember.

once she's sure that you're wet and comfortable enough, another thick digit slides in, the stretch earning a moan from you that has abby feeling like angels are singing and welcoming her to heaven. god, she has waited for so long to hear those sounds out of your lips—sounds caused by her, not your vibrator nor whoever you used to invite over thinking you two were quiet. ( she could hear you every.single.time… and honestly? it was so good to get a free show. )

even if her pace was somewhat slow, the thrusts of her fingers still managed to produce soft, wet noises that filled the room as they combined with your heavy breathing.

“told you I'd be gentle.” she cooed against your abdomen, trailing her kisses up your torso until she finally reached your lips. the same lips she has been dreaming of kissing since she moved in, since she first saw you smile, since you finally laughed at something she said, since the first time she saw them in a pretty shade of lipgloss. it's better than she ever imagined and she knows she'll ask ( beg ) for more from now on.

she's head over heels if you couldn't tell already.

“a warning would've been nice.” your quiet words bring a sheepish smile to abby’s face as she sighs, pulling her face away just a little, “sorry, you looked so stressed lately, I figured you wouldn't mind…”

abby aims to please even if she doesn't realize how bad her impulsive thoughts are before she acts on them. but look at the bright side; from now on you have a girl who's willing to drop to her knees and bury her face between your thighs at your own home almost 24/7!

after a bit, she starts to notice that the clenching and throbbing around her fingers gets more frequent and your moans louder, meaning she can finally speed up the pace. burying herself deep into your cunt to reach all the perfect spots she knows you've been missing. “fuck, you're so pretty. I wish you could see yourself…dripping all over the bed.”

she’s breathless as if she was the one getting touched, her own underwear damp just from seeing and pleasing you. can you blame her? she feels like a child on christmas morning.

“that's it, doing so good.”

oh, how she adores the way your hips tremble underneath her. making a mess on your bed sheets as you throw your head back—which she takes as an invitation and buries her face there. inhaling your scent like it's the only thing keeping her alive, like you're the oxygen she needs.

“gonna come? I can barely move my fingers with how tight you are.” liar. no matter how much you squeeze she's pumping them in and out without a single bit of effort. working out daily really pays off in the most satisfying ways. plus, you're too wet and it slides in and out very easily.

and god, her words make the flutter in your lower belly even worse. your hand gripping at her forearm, nails digging so hard she takes it as “it's too much.” when in reality she had fucked you so dumb with her fingers that reaching for abby was purely out of instinct.

she can't even understand the words ( babbles ) coming out of your mouth, all her pussy-drunk mind is able to register is the whiny tone tone in your voice because yes, she's as fucked out as you are.

the loud cry that escaped your puffy lips while repeating her name over and over definitely woke up a neighbor or two and just the thought of it makes abby's ego go up to the roof. who's making the prettiest girl in the building come? abigail motherfucking anderson.

her fingers continue their movements, a bit sloppier than before, but they keep going nonetheless. thumb circling your sensitive clit to add more stimulation.

she shushed your whimpers with soft kisses on your your temple and held you still to keep the overstimulated jerking off hips from pushing her away.

“you can take a little more, you're a big girl.”

and she's an insatiable woman.

masterlist ♡ taglist — @1ckyporcelainbunny @patronagrona

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° every move is magic

♡ a/n — this is probably one of the longest things i've written lol. it's only bc it's yuki i swear.

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x fem! reader, fem! reader, model! reader, childhood best friends, friends to lovers, mutual pining, goes from like kindergarten all the way to the u-20 game, mentions of yuki modeling, decided reader needed to be a model too, reader is shy and reserved as a kid, i made yukimiya one of those gremlin kids

♡ synopsis — Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

The first time you met Yukimiya Kenyu, you were sitting on the edge of the playground, quietly watching the other kids play. You didn’t join them—not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t figure out how. It was easier to sit by yourself, even if it meant being lonely.

Then he appeared, a blur of energy and determination. While the other kids were too slow to keep up with him, Yukimiya’s restless nature had finally found something that caught his attention: you.

“Why aren’t you playing?” he asked, tilting his head as if the idea was incomprehensible.

You shrugged, unsure what to say other than, “I don’t know how to play the games they’re playing.”

He blinked at you, his head tilting like he was trying to figure you out. “That’s dumb.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, and he quickly added, “Not you! The games. They’re boring. Wanna play something else?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Something fun,” he said with a grin. “We’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, instead grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the sandbox. From then on, he never left your side. While he was still a whirlwind of energy, he always made sure to include you, even if it meant slowing down.

“You’re my best friend now, okay?” he declared one afternoon after you’d spent hours building an intricate sandcastle together.

“Okay,” you agreed, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

From that moment on, Yukimiya became your shadow, and you became his anchor. While he zoomed around the playground like a whirlwind, he always circled back to you. And when you sat quietly coloring, he sat next to you, fidgeting but staying put.

He slowed down for you.

Yukimiya’s talent for soccer became apparent early on. By the time you reached the third grade, he was already being called a prodigy. Coaches marveled at his footwork, his speed, his ability to outplay anyone who dared to challenge him.

You watched every game from the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone else. He always made sure to find you in the crowd afterward, his grin wide as he asked, “Did you see that? Did you see how I scored?”

“You were amazing, Yuki,” you’d say every time, and he’d beam like your words mattered more than anyone else’s.

But as his talent grew, your insecurities began to as well. You weren’t particularly athletic, or artistic, or academically gifted. While Yukimiya excelled at everything he tried, you felt like you were just… there.

You were proud of him, of course, but a small part of you always felt like you were standing in his shadow. Everyone noticed him. Everyone praised him. Meanwhile, you were… you.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Yukimiya said one day, lying flat on the grass beside you after practice. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat glistening under the sun. “What is it?”

Your mother had always said that Yukimiya had "great emotional intelligence" for a 3rd grader.

You didn't know what that meant, but you thought so too.

You hesitated before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good at something as you are at soccer.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, frowning. “That’s stupid. You're good at being my best friend." The way he said it, with so much conviction would've made you laugh if his face didn't look so serious.

"You don’t have to be ‘good’ at anything for me to like having you around.” He mumbled, just a quick little add on.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in a way you didn’t understand.

By the time you both entered middle school, Yukimiya’s popularity had skyrocketed. Girls giggled and blushed whenever he walked by, and boys challenged him to soccer matches, hoping to prove themselves.

At first, it didn’t bother you. Yukimiya was still the same boy who ran to your side after every game, who walked you home even when he was exhausted, who always made time for you no matter how busy he was.

But then the love letters started.

“Another one?” you asked one afternoon as he stuffed a folded note into his bag.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to read it.

“Don’t you care what they say?”

“Not really.”

You frowned, not understanding how he could be so unaffected. “What if it’s someone you like?”

“Nah. I don’t feel that way about anyone.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, why would I need another girl when I already have you?”

The casual way he said it made your heart skip a beat, but you brushed it off as a joke. He couldn’t possibly mean it… could he?

No. You were best friends, he just didn't need another girl in his life right now. You were only in middle school, dating was the last of your worries.

But what would happen when a girl he did like gave him a letter? What would happen to you?

Your friendship with Yukimiya had always been effortless. He was the first person you turned to for help with anything—homework, outfit choices, or just figuring out life’s little mysteries. And he was the same with you.

You’d spent countless afternoons in his room, sprawled out on his bed while he juggled a soccer ball, the steady rhythm of it hitting the wall almost comforting.

This time was no different. You’d come over for a “study session,” but neither of you had cracked open a textbook. Yukimiya was sitting on the floor, bouncing the ball off the wall with practiced ease, while you lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Yuki,” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, not looking up from his game.

“Do you think we stop each other from learning?”

The ball thudded against the wall again before he caught it, turning to look at you with a confused smile. “What do you mean? You’re here for a study session, silly.”

“No, not that,” you said, sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. “I mean… learning how to kiss someone. Or how to go on dates. Stuff like that.”

His smile faltered, and he stared at you, the soccer ball forgotten in his hands. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice soft. “It’s just… we’re always together. And I love that, I do. But what if we’re keeping each other from… I don’t know, growing up or something?”

Yukimiya’s brows furrowed as he thought about your words. He stood, tossing the ball onto his desk and sitting beside you on the bed. “So… you want to learn how to kiss someone?”

“I guess,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Don’t you?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never… y’know…”

You nodded, the awkward silence stretching between you. And then, to your surprise, Yukimiya looked up at you with a small, nervous smile.

“Maybe… we could help each other,” he suggested, his voice trembling slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat. “You mean…”

“We’re best friends, right?” he said quickly, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “It’s not weird if it’s just to… learn. Right?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. But the way he looked at you—hopeful, nervous, and maybe a little excited—made you nod. “Okay,” you whispered.

His hand reached for yours, his palm warm and slightly clammy, if he was any other guy, you'd have been grossed out. But he was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing about him was gross.

He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally pressed against yours, it was soft and tentative, like he was afraid of doing it wrong.

It didn’t take long for the awkwardness to melt away. What started as a simple kiss turned into something deeper, something neither of you had planned.

His hands found your waist, yours tangled in his hair, and before you knew it, the lines between friendship and something more had blurred entirely.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your cheeks flushed. Yukimiya looked at you with wide eyes, his glasses slightly fogged, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Did we just…” you began, trailing off.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Neither of you knew what to say after that, so you didn’t say anything at all. Instead, you lay back on his bed, your hands still intertwined as the silence settled over you like a blanket.

Both you and Yukimiya were scouted for modeling—him for his sharp, athletic looks, and you for your natural, understated charm. And maybe because Yukimiya dragged you to every meeting because he "couldn't do it alone."

He could, by the way, but he didn't want to be without you longer than neccessary.

But you were always so thankful to him, the industry was intimidating, but having him by your side made it bearable.

“You’ve got crumbs,” Yukimiya teased one morning during a shoot, brushing powdered sugar off your cheek from the donut you’d been eating.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, wiping coffee foam from his lip. Lips you'd kissed far too often to be considered 'just friends' anymore...but all you were doing was helping each other release energy.

It was Yuki, your Yuki, nothing was weird whenever you were with him.

The photographer snapped a picture of you two mid-laugh, and it became one of your favorite memories—a candid moment that felt more real than anything else.

When Yukimiya was invited to Blue Lock, you encouraged him to go, even though the thought of being apart made your chest ache.

“Don’t forget about me,” you joked, forcing a smile as you handed him his bus ticket.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and serious.

You couldn't put a finger on why your heart was screaming at you to make him stay when he leaned down to give you one last kiss while your parents backs were turned.

If this wasn't his dream, maybe you would have.

Leaving for Blue Lock was the hardest decision Yukimiya ever made. He hated the thought of being away from you, but he knew he had to take the chance if he wanted to achieve his dream.

He worked tirelessly, determined to prove himself and earn his way back to the real world—not for glory, but so he could call you.

The day he scored enough goals to get his phone back, the first thing he did was call you.

“Yuki?” Your voice on the other end of the line made his heart ache with relief.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion.

His teammates teased him mercilessly when they saw his lock screen: a picture of the two of you in matching robes, laughing over coffee and donuts.

“Who’s that?” Karasu asked, leaning over his shoulder.

“My best friend,” Yukimiya replied, his tone too soft for the teasing that followed.

“Just a ‘best friend,’ huh?” Karasu smirked. “Sure doesn’t look that way to me.”

He ignored the crow-like boy the rest of the night, but the truth was, Karasu was right. You weren’t just his best friend. You were his everything.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in the stadium as Yukimiya scanned the field, his gaze darting between his teammates and the celebrating fans. But then he spotted you. Standing at the edge of the field, looking up at him with that same smile he’d seen a thousand times before—on playgrounds, in his room, and through the screen of his phone.

Without a second thought, he ran to you, dodging past reporters and teammates. Before you could say a word, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle. The world blurred around you, and all you could focus on was the way his laughter vibrated against your chest and the warmth of his embrace.

When he set you down, you barely had time to catch your breath before he cupped your face in his hands, his forehead resting against yours. “I think…” he began, his voice trembling. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft and sure, as if he’d been waiting his entire life to do this. The noise of the stadium faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“Oh, is this the best friend?” Otoya's voice cut through the moment, and you pulled away, cheeks burning as you turned to see him smirking, Karasu snickering beside him.

“ ‘Best friend’ my ass,” Karasu added, crossing his arms and shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Yukimiya’s ears turned bright red, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he shot Karasu a glare before looking back at you, his gaze softening. “They can say whatever they want,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear before he leaned down one more time to kiss you again.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were kids, when Yukimiya’s speed and energy left everyone else in the dust. You’d always been the shy one, the one who struggled to keep up. But Yukimiya had never minded.

He’d slowed down for you, waited for you, and in doing so, made you feel like you were the only one who could ever truly match him. And now, standing here in his arms, you realized that he’d never stopped waiting.

Even if the world could never keep up with Yukimiya Kenyu, you’d always be grateful that he’d chosen to stay by your side.

yeah i chose yuki for this bc im bias, so what ?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[bosbas]

Chapter 3: it was all by design

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 1.7k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, morally grey daphne ??, slow burn!!!, anthony being a SIMPPPP (i love it)

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

June 2, 1812 - As you walked into Lady Danbury's ballroom, your hands were gripping the skirt of your dress to keep them from trembling. Tonight was the night you were going to ask Anthony to court you. You were asking him. It was an absurd concept at best, a lady asking a gentleman to court. But you'd already come this far, asking him to dance and all, so you supposed it wasn't that large of a jump from one thing to the next.

It wasn't real, you kept reminding yourself. It was just a way to give Daphne the season she deserved. And Anthony had absolutely no interest in marriage anyway, so he would surely not particularly mind when you ended things with him.

Besides, you were fairly certain he only saw you as a sister, much like Daphne, so it was doubtful he’d even be amenable to the prospect of starting a courtship with you. It was taking a lot of mental work to convince yourself that this would be fine.

But at the end of the day, you had your own reputation to think about. As much as you enjoyed spending time with Anthony at high society balls, you knew it wasn't the best for your image if you were constantly seen dancing with a man who wasn't courting you. Someone was bound to think that something was wrong with you. Several people had asked you already, actually.

So, you smoothed your skirts and steeled your nerves. This was the best option for Daphne. And for you if you wanted to keep spending as much time with Anthony as you were now.

Looking around the ballroom, your eyes met the eldest Bridgerton's.

His eyes immediately lit up, blinking as he took in your impressive ballgown and elbow-length gloves. Quickly, he started walking toward you, practically tripping over Cressida Cowper's train because he was in such a rush.

“Good evening, Lady L/N,” he bowed, putting on the stuffy voice you’d heard him use with his mother’s friends.

“Good evening, Viscount,” you responded, playing along with him.

He flashed you the most charming smile you had ever seen, and you understood completely why the ladies of the ton swooned over him. If you had his charisma and good looks, you’d probably be a rake, too.

“Fancy a dance tonight?” he asked casually, his hand reaching out to softly touch your dance-card-clad wrist.

“I suppose I do,” you responded, flashing him a vibrant smile. The nerves you had felt a few minutes ago had practically evaporated, leaving only room for excitement as Anthony interwove his fingers with yours and led you to the dance floor.

A few minutes after the dance had begun, you caught a glimpse of Daphne and Mr Norwood looking completely smitten with one another. It quickly reminded you of your goal for the night. If Daphne was going to marry Mr Norwood then you needed to bite the bullet and get this over with right now.

As you were staring intently at your best friend and the man she wanted to marry, your brow furrowed and lips pursed, you felt Anthony's warm breath close to your ear.

“What’s on your mind?” he whispered softly, sensing your mind was elsewhere.

Having spent so much time with you in the past few weeks, Anthony had grown accustomed to your quirks and knew that you weren’t being your usual self.

You froze. It was now or never.

“Um… Well… I was just thinking about how our dancing every night looks. To other people I mean. Given that we’re not courting,” you babbled, unable to meet the eyes of the man in front of you.

Confused, Anthony continued, “Is this about what I said the other night? About only being able to dance so many times?”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him. If you two did end up courting, you didn’t ever want him to think he was at fault. “Just some comments I’ve heard from ladies around the ton, you know how they are. They ask me questions I don’t particularly know the answer to,” you said dismissively.

“And you’re worried about how this will affect you in the future, as an unmarried lady?”

“Well… yes,” you responded lamely. Although everything you had said up to this point was true, you were still unable to meet his eyes, the guilt of deceiving him eating away at you.

Anthony knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Hadn’t you physically recoiled at the thought of courting him just a few days ago when he said it as a joke?

Regardless, he mulled over what you had said. He knew you fairly well, and even though you weren’t usually bothered by a bit of gossip (you were spending time with him even though he was the world’s biggest rake, for heaven’s sake), he understood your hesitation.

“Does this mean you want me to properly court you?” he asked gently, not wanting to scare you off again.

Perhaps it was the sincerity in Anthony’s voice, or just you realizing the gravity of the situation, but you immediately tensed up.

“No, I don’t think so,” you started slowly, torn between helping Daphne and protecting yourself. But you had already made your choice. You loved your best friend, but not to the point of breaking all social decorum and asking a man to court you. “Not at all,” you laughed airily. “I know you’re not looking to marry, and honestly neither am I. It was just a silly comment, my apologies.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

You cursed Daphne’s brother for being so perceptive. How on earth could he tell exactly what you were feeling?

“I don’t know,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. God, this would be so much easier if you had feelings for him and wanted to court him. Then you could just say yes and stop feeling so guilty.

Seeing how torn you were, Anthony decided to let the subject lie. The season was still only beginning, and there would be yet time to figure out what exactly was going on between you.

However, letting the subject lie decidedly did not mean that he would stop thinking about it. In fact, it was the only thing he thought about for the rest of the night, completely missing an almost inappropriate kiss Mr Norwood left on Daphne’s hand.

--- 

Anthony hadn’t stopped thinking about the possibility of properly courting you the following morning. He sat in his sunroom, rereading the same paragraph for the sixth time as he tried to focus on anything other than your anxiety-filled eyes the previous night. 

“Y/N was looking rather lovely last night,” commented Daphne offhandedly as she worked on her needlepoint. 

“What?” said Anthony, startled out of his thoughts. He’d completely forgotten his sister was in the room with him, too. 

“Y/N, last night, looking lovely,” repeated Daphne, covertly looking at her brother as he remembered what you were wearing at Lady Danbury’s ball. 

“Err… I suppose she did look rather fetching, yes,” he responded awkwardly, shuffling the newspaper on his lap to another page. 

Then, looking at his sister suspiciously, he added, “But I wasn’t looking to get married this year, Daphne.”

You had told her about how you’d been unable to ask Anthony to court, of course. You had apologized profusely, but Daphne would hear none of it. Reassuring you that it was no problem, really, and that she understood your hesitation completely, Daphne had decided to shift her focus to her brother. It was true, a woman asking a man to dance was completely taboo, and it probably wouldn’t even have worked. So, although you hadn’t outright asked Anthony to court, you had certainly gotten the closest to it that a woman in polite society could. Now all he needed was a little push. 

“Neither was Y/N, to my understanding,” she responded, keeping her tone light and her eyes on her thread and needle. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Anthony waved dismissively. “She’s said it herself, I’m the biggest rake in Mayfair. Getting involved in her would only hurt her image in the long run.”

“Don’t be daft,” laughed Daphne. “You’re a Bridgerton. Rake or not, I doubt any association with you would taint her image in the slightest. She’s been involved with us for years! She’s my best friend, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Anthony humphed, annoyed that his little sister was making sense. Stubbornly, he continued, “Exactly, it’s not a good idea to bring feelings into a courtship, anyway. She’s been a friend of the family for ages.”

Daphne shrugged, slowly becoming more supportive of her best friend courting her brother, whether it was under false pretenses or not. “I certainly wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

After a pause, she added, “And how do you know the feelings are there? That’s what a courtship is for, isn’t it?” 

She was in quite a similar situation herself, though she could never tell Anthony lest he completely lose his mind. 

Daphne looked up at her brother, almost seeing the gears in his mind turning. 

“Do you really think I should?” he asked, setting down the newspaper beside him. 

“If you want,” she responded flippantly, knowing Anthony had already made up his mind. 

“Oh my word, it’s almost afternoon!” exclaimed Anthony, looking at the grandfather clock on the other side of the sunroom. “I should go now, I suppose. What if someone else has already come to call on her? Am I too late?”

Daphne, highly amused at her brother’s sudden sense of urgency, laughed. “Only one way to find out…” 

But Anthony didn’t hear her response, already rushing out of the room to grab his coat so he could go call on you. Properly. Like a gentleman. For the first time. 

And funnily enough, Anthony felt no fear, no anxiety, no dread. Nothing that he usually felt when thinking about courtship and marriage. He was simply excited to see you.

—

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[scented-morker]

୨୧ Whoops 𓂃 ♥︎

idol!riki x idol!reader, fem!reader, secret relationship, riki is a little too used to taking care of you… 950 words ft. Mark Lee cameo 🫶

Award show season in the kpop industry was one of the most fun parts of your job.

You spent hours preparing stages and dance breaks with your group, trying on beautiful dress after beautiful dress, and of course texting your boyfriend Riki for spoilers on his stages.

You: Pleaseeeeee 🙏 I’ll send you a picture of my red carpet dress if you tell me

Riki: you should probably do that anyway 🤭 Jungwon said last show I stared too much but I was just so shocked, you looked so pretty

You: YOU WERE SHOCKED??? DO I NOT NORMALLY LOOK PRETTY???

Riki: Ok crazy I DID NOT SAY THAT

You: blocked.

You were joking around, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had noticed him staring when you walked past his group and hadn’t been able to stop your blush even after his leader had smacked him to knock it off.

Your own leader had made up an excuse to yank you back to the makeup artist in an attempt to offset your red face.

Fans absolutely caught the whole thing on camera, and you two were viral for a week.

That was the non fun part of award season— trying to pretend you weren’t completely smitten with the beautiful boy on stage.

Everytime Riki performed you wanted to jump out of your seat and scream your head off.

You were dating the world’s most talented boy and couldn’t even show it… especially since your company had made you go through extra media training to avoid it happening again.

As much as you hated keeping it a secret, you hated to see your boyfriend getting hate even more, so you focused on controlling yourself around the cameras.

When the camera panned to your group during the Enhypen performance on New Years Eve, you calmly smiled and nodded your head to the beat of XO. Your leader gave you a discreet high five as soon as the screen refocused on the boys, and you glowed with pride.

Riki had done well for the most part as well, managing to look like he really liked the song you were performing and not like he was losing his mind over your leather outfit.

Everything was going perfectly smooth until the very end of the show.

You were crammed onto the stage with what seemed like every single idol that has ever debuted.

You bow as you once again bump into one of your seniors, glad when they give you a quick hug and wave off your apology.

It’s almost midnight, and you look around the stage in an attempt to find the rest of your group who you haven’t seen in at least five minutes.

You laugh to yourself when you spot your boyfriend immediately, his head peeking over the rest of the crowd due to his sheer height.

He spots you and raises an eyebrow at you in question, but you don’t even attempt to explain your panicked look, knowing the interaction would get caught and analyzed hundreds of times.

Instead you start walking towards his general direction, making sure to look just enough to the side that people won’t think you’re approaching him.

You hope your group is somewhere near his, thinking your age and popularity were similar enough for the directors to place you beside each other.

There’s music playing over the speakers as you continue looking around for someone you recognize. Idols start dancing around in excitement, and you’re once again jostled as you make your way through the crowd.

A particularly excited Mark Lee accidentally backs up into you, bumping you what feels like halfway across the stage, and you’re fully expecting to hit the ground from the impact.

You internally groan at the videos that are surely going to be everywhere in a few hours, and you try to make sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone when you fall.

But instead of hitting the ground how you were expecting, you find yourself against a familiar body with an arm around your waist.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling, and you don’t even need to turn around to know Riki is behind you.

You quickly untangle yourself from him, turning and bowing deeply to him.

“Thank you for catching me.”

He mirrors your body language, lifting his head to peer into your eyes, his own soft and full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, standing back up and knowing you’re screwed.

A quick glance behind him shows Jungwon with wide eyes and Heeseung losing his mind laughing at the two of you being horrible relationship hiders.

You bow to them as well, although you make a mental note to yell at Heeseung the next time you see him.

Mark Lee chooses that moment to come up to you with a red face and sheepish smile as he apologizes profusely and Haechan laughs behind him.

You accept it quickly, wanting to get out of the area and horrible situation as soon as possible.

You’re grateful when your leader finally approaches you, looking between you, Mark, and Riki with terrified eyes.

“I’ll explain later.” You whisper as she grabs your arm and the two of you quickly exit towards the other part of the stage.

When you wake up the next day it’s to multiple texts from your manager, two calls from your boyfriend, and a Dispatch article featuring the photo of Riki holding you against him in the middle of the stage.

Whoops.

[ennabear]

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Show Me What Love Is

(Sequel to "This Is How It Starts")

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (shameless smut, profanity) Words: 7,356 Themes: friends to lovers, shameless smut, fluff and smut

Summary: In the weeks after your breakup with Andrew Larson, you and Sebastian Sallow waste no time making up for lost time. But it's impossible to study for your N.E.W.T.s when you can't keep your hands off each other.

Notes: I had so much fun writing "This Is How It Starts," I needed to write a continuation. I recommend reading that first. Just more shameless smut. Loosely inspired by "Happiness" by The 1975.

I promise to ease up on the shameless smutty one-shots and focus on my chapter fics now. I'm probably lying.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

“I heard she dumped Larson because he’s a virgin.”

“No, I heard it was because he didn’t quite… measure up to Sallow, if you know what I mean.”

“Wait, I thought she was hooking up with Gaunt now.”

A snort escaped before you could suppress it. If the rumors hadn’t been so ridiculous, you may have found them insufferable. Instead, you and Sebastian Sallow were currently cozied up in a secluded corner of the library, where you – and your classmates – were supposed to be studying.

Sebastian clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as he fought to conceal his own. He had you pinned against the bookshelves, his body pressing yours against the rows of wood and bound pages as you struggled to remain quiet. Shielded by bookshelves, the two of you had decided to postpone your study session for a quick snog.

It had been two weeks since your breakup with Andrew Larson, and the Hogwarts rumor mill was still churning. Given that you didn’t hide your new romance with Sebastian, whispers spread like wildfire through the castle walls. And while you weren’t particularly happy about them, you didn’t really care.

Because for the first time in months, you were satisfied. My god were you satisfied. 

You and Sebastian had wasted no time making up for lost time. Your relationship with him fulfilled you in ways Andrew couldn’t have even considered, physically and emotionally. 

Despite all the sex you and Sebastian were having, your bond had strengthened and you found yourselves falling easily into the routine of a seasoned couple. Sure, the early stages of any romance were always more fiery, more passionate, more electrifying, but the two of you seemed to have cemented yourselves in each other’s hearts for the long run. 

With both of your feelings out and in the open, there were no more secrets or unspoken words. You and Sebastian were simpatico; two people who were content in simply spending time together – though most of that time was spent in various states of undress, engaged in salacious activities.

As your giggles subsided, Sebastian smirked, dipping his head to kiss your neck. He smelled like the cinnamon you’d watched him sprinkle in his tea that morning. The sensation of his lips pressed against your skin drew a moan from your lips.

You froze, your wide-eyed gaze shifting sideways toward the end of the aisle as you and Sebastian held your breaths. When no one seemed to have overheard your indiscretion, Sebastian shot you an amused smirk.

“You’re going to have to learn to be much quieter if we’re going to stay here,” he murmured.

“It’s not my fault!” you hissed. “You know my neck is a sensitive spot.”

“Precisely why I did it.”

“You’re cruel.”

“You’re not complaining.”

“I’ll burn your house down.”

Sebastian breathed a soft chuckle. “No need for such violence,” he hummed before he pecked an affectionate kiss to your forehead. “Besides, it’ll be your house too someday.”

Sebastian spoke of your future with such certainty, it was both thrilling and dizzying. You had no doubt he was the only person you’d ever want to spend your life with. You knew that long before the first time he touched you or told you he loved you. The two of you had far too much history, and now that you knew one another sexually, you had ruined your futures with anyone else for life. 

Now, Sebastian referred to himself as “We” – as in the two of you, a couple. His plans for graduation, your careers, your home, were your plans now. His future was your future and he wasn’t shy about letting others know.

But you still had three weeks remaining as Hogwarts students. Your N.E.W.T.s were set to begin the following day, which was the only reason you were standing in the library instead of romping around in bed like you’d done the previous night.

You knew your romance with Sebastian wouldn’t be perfect forever. Neither of you were perfect, and you certainly didn’t expect your relationship to remain that way. Sebastian could be impulsive, stubborn and downright stupid when it came to making decisions. You were snarky, ambitious and strong-willed. Your past friendship together was all the proof you needed that the two of you would inevitably have fights and shouting matches. But it was also proof that the two of you could overcome anything – especially if it meant the make-up sex would make it all worthwhile.

Yet as satisfied as you were, you were still insatiable. You couldn’t get enough of Sebastian, even though he’d been your best friend for nearly three years. But you were his girlfriend now, and that made you see him in an entirely different light.

You were his first real girlfriend. He’d never bothered to craft much connection or meaning to any of the girls he’d hooked up with in the past. You had always chalked it up to his short attention span and impulsive ways. You hadn’t known it was because he’d been waiting for you.

Today though, he was clearly tired of waiting. You’d spent the morning with your noses buried in books, seated at one of the long tables at the center of the library, until you felt Sebastian’s attention vacate his Astronomy notes. His stare fell on you; the way you softly sighed while you contemplated the spell theories in your book; the way you subconsciously chewed your bottom lip as you scribbled in your notes; the way the hem of your skirt creeped upward when you crossed your legs. 

He looked at you like you were the last piece of dessert he’d ever get to consume. He’d always looked at you like that, but you failed to notice until now. Only recently had you come to learn just how much power you held over Sebastian Sallow.

Now, you’d seen the way he whimpers at your touch; the way he grits his teeth and clenches his fists whenever you climax around him; the way his chest heaves when he watches you undress. But you also had seen the way he beams when he makes you laugh with a lewd joke; the way he always pours your morning tea before his own; the way he lets you steal all the blankets and covers at night, only to smile at you with sleepy eyes the following morning. You’d ruined Sebastian Sallow far more than either of you thought possible.

But now Sebastian had you pressed against those bookshelves, his hips guarding you from daring to move. He stood with one foot between yours as he leaned into a deep, slow kiss, the top of his thigh pressing against the apex of your thighs. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, tightening with impatience. 

“Careful, darling,” he murmured. “You’ve already ruined two of my shirts.”

“I’ll ruin your life if you don’t fuck me already.”

He didn’t bother to bury his laugh this time. It erupted from his throat and echoed through the aisle, sure to draw attention this time. The two of you swapped a glance and Sebastian shrugged. He brandished his wand from his back pocket as he held your gaze, and with a fluid wave, cast a Disillusionment charm.

You quickly did the same, disappearing against the rows of books such as Sophronia Franklin came curiously wandering into the aisle. Once she was gone, you caught the glimmer of Sebastian’s outline moving toward the Restricted Section. You followed him quietly through the gate and down the stairs, a route you could navigate with your eyes closed after three years of illicit exploits.

Once you reached the storage room at the bottom, you and Sebastian shed your charms and hurried toward a desk that had been shoved against a wall. Without a word, you backed Sebastian into the desk and clung to his shoulders as you kissed him. His hands snapped to your waist, the melt of your curves triggering his arousal.

He groaned as you stepped closer, your hip pressing against his front to facilitate his erection. You were certain you’d never grow tired of the power you felt every time you made Sebastian’s best asset stand at attention.

You palmed his erection over his pants, dragging your fingers across his hard length. He hummed at the friction, his heavy panting exposing his anticipation.

Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper before you shoved his pants and boxers to the floor in a heap, his cock springing from their confines. You took it in one hand, your fingers circling around the shaft while you swiped a thumb across the tip. Sebastian twitched at the touch.

You watched him with glee, drunk on the way his jaw clenched and breath hitched. It was the most fun you’d had in ages. He couldn’t help but smile at your proud expression, a sign he was also aware of the power held.

“You’re evil, you know that?” he murmured. 

“You made me this way.” 

You pumped him steadily, his breaths increasing with your pace as he leaned backward against the desk. You tore your gaze from his blissful expression to examine his cock in your hands, the tip glistening with his arousal.

Dropping to a crouch, you guided him into your mouth, your hands gripping the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your jaw. Sebastian balled your hair into his fist as he gazed downward to admire you as you worked.

“I love you so goddamn much,” he growled. 

You hummed a reply that sent vibrations around his cock, forcing a groan from him. His tip hit the back of your throat and you squeezed your own thumbs into your palms as you held him there for as long as you could stand it.

When your throat released him, you sucked your cheeks in hard as your lips returned to stroking his shaft. The storage room echoed with the sounds of your sins, punctuated by Sebastian’s grunts and moans. His reactions to your hungry mouth piqued your own arousal, your knees parted as you remained in a squat. 

You couldn't help but drop one hand between your own legs, your fingers coating themselves from the pool that had gathered at your entrance. You dipped a finger inside yourself, the warmth of your own core a stark contrast to the cool air of the dark storage room. 

You used your own fingers to dig at your ache, though they didn’t feel nearly as good as Sebastian’s. You willed yourself to remain patient as you focused on his pleasure, knowing damn well he’d never fail to return the favor.

You removed your soaked fingers and used that same hand to stroke Sebastian’s cock, the new moisture earning a groan from him. The sight of it all – his cock covered in a cocktail of your arousal and spit – was overwhelming.

He dipped his head backward, his eyes squeezed shut as he tugged your hair tighter. You’d come to learn that as a sign he was losing control.

You replaced your hand with your mouth, the taste of yourself spreading over the flesh of his length as you flattened your tongue against Sebastian’s shaft. It dragged up and over the tip, tracing teasing circles around the head. 

Sebastian panted harder, his lungs laboring as he dared to open his eyes again. You met them with your own gaze, your eyes watching him with wonder and lust. The vision of your doe-eyed stare and his cock disappearing into your mouth made him whimper, a sound that made your own core throb. 

You flicked your tongue and Sebastian tensed. Your hollowed cheeks began to sting, but you quickened your pace, your nails digging into the backs of his thighs as you relaxed your throat to gurgle around his tip at a frenetic rate.

A sharp, sudden pain seared over your scalp as Sebastian lost control, his fist yanking your hair and his hips thrusting forward as he finished. His climax hit the back of your throat, thick and hot, as your head continued to bob in determination to drain him completely. He grunted as his orgasm subsided, his sensitive cock twitching the remnants of his seed over your tongue.

His cock fell from your mouth as you swallowed, one hand still pressed into the back of his thigh while he caught his breath. Meanwhile, your anticipation seeped from your entrance, soaking through your panties. 

You sank to your knees, tired from your performance and aching for your own relief. You glanced upward at Sebastian, who gazed at you affectionately through heavy eyelids. He extended a hand to you to help you to your feet. You rose slowly, the motion crafting more pressure within your core.

Sebastian pulled you into a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand ventured between your thighs as he reveled in the wet warmth surrounding his fingers. He pushed you up onto the desk, your legs dangling from the edge as he stood between them and paused to kiss you again.

“Naughty naughty, you’ll get caughty!”

You gasped at the sudden intrusion as Sebastian spun to look for the source.

“Peeves!”

The poltergeist hovered in the doorway, laughing as he took in the scene. You straightened and slid off the desk, smoothing your clothes in an attempt to salvage some dignity while Sebastian hurriedly pulled his pants up.

“Wicked little seventh years, how shameful you are!” Peeves declared, though his eyes appeared to be laughing. 

“Get out, you perverse fucking voyeur!” Sebastian snapped. Peeves cackled. 

“Peeves knows this isn't the first time Sebastian Sallow has defiled the Restricted Section. Peeves will miss all this fun once the naughty seventh years graduate! Consider this secret his parting gift!”

He disappeared through the wall, his cackles echoing through the stone. Sebastian uttered a groan of disgust while your heart rate recovered from the abrupt imposition.

You heaved a sigh when Peeves’ laughter had faded. “Well, I suppose we’d better get back up there in case he actually sends someone to check,” you said. Sebastian was clearly still annoyed, but flashed you an apologetic grin.

“Sorry, darling,” he said as he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

You held him to that promise as soon as you could.

---

Two days later, you and Sebastian relocated your study spot to a place that was much more private. The library was packed with students that day, including your ex-boyfriend who glared daggers at you the moment you walked in.

You felt bad for the way things ended with Andrew. He wasn’t a bad person but he’d been a bad boyfriend. He neglected you, dismissed your wants and needs and didn’t take you seriously. Still, he probably didn’t deserve the scene you caused when you broke up with him – not that it had been your idea. 

You had wanted to end the relationship quietly, but Sebastian practically skipped into the library with you on his arm minutes after you’d been moaning his name in the Room of Requirement. The two of you found Andrew sitting at that same study table and Sebastian marched you right up to him, where you told him the two of you were over. Then Sebastian paraded you into the Great Hall, you still wearing his sweater, where he didn’t bother to hide his affection for you during dinner. Afterward, you dragged him to the Undercroft for another round.

Sebastian found it hilarious when Andrew glowered at you in the library again, but you steered him back into the Central Hall to avoid any confrontation. You really did need to study that day. Your History of Magic exam was scheduled for the following morning and you were one of the many students who hadn’t paid much attention during class for the duration of the term.

But Ominis had banished you and Sebastian from the Undercroft for the week after he discovered the two of you in an obscene position the previous day. 

“The Undercroft ?” he had uttered in disbelief. “Is nothing sacred anymore?”

So today, you and Sebastian sat in the Room of Requirement, your stacks of spellbooks and scrolls scattered over a study table.

Sebastian had lost concentration ages ago. He twirled his wand in one hand while he watched you study. You’d already scolded him twice for being disruptive, and despite his mounting boredom, he knew your exams were important so he did his best to keep quiet.

After three hours of painfully mundane reading, you sighed and sat back in your chair, your eyes tired from straining over your textbooks.

“Ready for a break?” Sebastian asked eagerly. Your gaze drifted over his notes and you snorted as you studied the doodles and drawings he’d made on the edges of the parchment.

“Is that… Ominis?” you asked, squinting at one of the doodles.

“Riding a dragon, yes.”

You laughed and fiddled with your wand, appreciative of the comic relief. But Sebastian’s gaze had shifted and you immediately recognized the way his eyes were darkening with desire. They drifted to your chest, but you crossed your arms to obstruct his view.

“Sebastian…” you warned. “We need to study.”

“We’ve been studying!” he whined. “For three hours. Surely you could use a break. Wasn’t this the exact thing you were anguishing over just weeks ago with Larson?”

“Andrew went weeks without touching me,” you pointed out. “I just fucked you yesterday.”

“Feels like it’s been weeks.”

You rolled your eyes but crossed your legs beneath the table. You, too, were antsy with arousal, but were determined to assert your self-control this time. You’d given in to Sebastian every time until now – not that you’d needed any persuading. 

Sebastian leaned closer to you, his hand skimming the top of your knee beneath the table. He was challenging you. He knew your resistance was thin. But he didn’t know you were intent on affirming your power.

His thumb began tracing tiny circles against your thigh and you clenched your jaw. He seemed to notice the twitch in your facial expression because his puppy dog eyes lit up with amusement. Slowly, his hand snaked toward your entrance until two fingers gently brushed over the smooth fabric of your panties.

You fought to maintain a stoic expression, even as a finger pressed into your clit, but a hitch in your breath betrayed you. Sebastian smirked.

“No!” you said firmly as you snapped your knees together to force Sebastian’s hand away. “Sebastian, I want to study.”

“Judging from how wet you are, darling, I don’t think I believe you.”

You huffed an exhausted puff of air. “Okay, so maybe I don’t want to study, but I need to.”

“Do you need it as much as you need to come right now?”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you folded your arms in firm denial. “We can address that later,” you said, praying the pitch of your voice wouldn’t expose the filthy thoughts circulating inside your head.

But per usual, Sebastian saw right through you. He lounged backward in his chair, his legs stretched out as he continued to smirk. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that, darling?”

You scowled at him in annoyance and rose to your feet. A book in one hand and your wand in the other, you strode to the sofa that sat six feet away. Sebastian moved as if he were going to follow you, but you pointed your wand at him.

“Hey now! Watch where you point that thing!”

In one fluid flick, your wand emitted a milky haze of dancing white light. You cast a faint glowing line through the air between the table and the sofa until it stretched the entire length of the room. It glimmered and danced as you reached toward it with one palm open. Your hand recoiled against it, confirming that your barrier charm had worked.

Sebastian’s mouth fell open in protest.

“There,” you said indignantly. “Now there will be no temptations.”

“And just how do you expect to leave?” Sebastian demanded.

“The barrier should only last an hour or so, maybe even less. I think we’ll survive.”

Sebastian pouted in his chair as you settled onto the sofa with your book in your lap. You tucked your legs beneath yourself and continued your reading about the Warlocks' Convention of 1709.

In hindsight, choosing the most dreadfully boring subject to study while your boyfriend stared at you with bedroom eyes was probably a poor decision. Soon, your eyes glazed over and you realized you’d read the same page three times with no memory of its contents.

You looked up and were unsurprised to find Sebastian watching you. He quirked an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes in an attempt to feign disinterest. But you couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye.

He looked so damn good that day. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and his hair was particularly messy from waking up late that morning. You imagined those strong arms lifting you onto that study table, where you’d sprawl out as he stood and fucked you.

The image lingered in your head for just a moment too long, and you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, annoyed at Sebastian for trying to rile you up. He’d succeeded but now, you both were paying for it. It made you want to strangle him – as soon as you were done riding him into the ground.

But now that stupid barrier lingered between you, and there was no possible way you could wait for it to fall. You could already feel the swell mounting within your core. It made you shift on the sofa, the movement heightening the sensitivity between your legs.

The usual cool of the Room of Requirement felt suffocating. Your cheeks were starting to flush and you knew studying was a lost cause. As you stole another glance at Sebastian, who still lounged quietly in his chair with his legs stretched, you decided the least you could do was have some fun with your situation. Maybe next time, he’d think twice before distracting you – and for trying to challenge you.

You heaved a dramatic, audible sigh as you snapped your book shut. It went forgotten on the sofa next to you as you ran a slow, deliberate hand over your neck.

Sebastian watched you in guarded silence. Slowly, you began to unbutton your blouse, your fingers working carefully as you exposed more and more of your chest.

Sebastian straightened in his chair, sitting upright with his hands on his knees. “What the hell are you doing?” he growled. Your only reply was a silent, fleeting glance and a sinister smile.

Your blouse fell open and your legs followed suit. The hem of your skirt guarded your core, so you slowly hiked it up, pulling it backward to expose what lay beneath.

Sebastian already knew what was waiting. Your soaked panties covered your entrance. He let out a sharp exhale at the sight, his hands gripping his kneecaps as you ran a hand from your neck downward, dragging over one breast and across your stomach until it found the fabric protecting your cunt. Your legs opened wider. 

You gently ran a finger over your slit, the friction from the fabric provoking a low moan. You dared to look at Sebastian, who was looking positively distraught over the sight before him. 

Good.

You continued to rub your clothed entrance with two fingers until you decided your panties had become too restrictive. As Sebastian’s stare remained locked between your legs, you teased him by running a finger along the edge of the fabric.

“Please,” he rasped. You tugged your panties to the side. You could hear him whimper.

One finger dipped quickly inside your swollen cunt, the moisture coating it immediately. You pulled it out and your arousal glistened over your fingers. You used the moisture to coat your clit, your fingers gliding over the little bundle of nerves until the absence of something inside you was overwhelming.

You dabbed two fingers inside yourself and moaned as your walls clenched desperately around them. As you worked your own core, you sank lower into the sofa, your legs spread wide and your teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

Sebastian dropped his head backward for a moment, his face contorted in absolute anguish as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. It almost appeared as if he was in pain.

The sounds of you fucking yourself echoed, exposing your act to the poor portraits lining the walls. Your moans filled the room. You dug desperately inside yourself, your fingers beckoning and coaxing a release, the cadence of your breathy moans reflecting your nearing climax.

Sebastian’s hands were gripping the seat of his chair, his knuckles bright white as he watched. You almost felt sorry for him. Almost .

He swiped at his face with his hand, as if he were trying to stifle another whimper. The peak in his pants looked positively painful. You couldn’t help but feel impressed that he had managed to refrain from any attempts to relieve his own arousal. 

But your dripping need was more important. Finally, your eyes fell shut and you had to picture Sebastian’s face as you became too immersed in the heat that was coursing between your legs.

“Mmm, I’m going to come, Seb,” you managed to whine. He swore under his breath.

With your eyes squeezed shut and your walls squeezed even tighter, your fingers drove at your sweet spot and your palm dragged against your clit. You moved with vigor despite your tiring arm. 

Finally, you knew you were close. You wanted to sneak one more glance at Sebastian. You knew he was positively reeling. But you were feeling too selfish and too needy; your release was too demanding.

So instead, you moaned his name. It was followed with a grating cry that had formed deep in your throat. You came so hard, it felt like your walls were pounding around your fingers. You held them in place, clutching at yourself as you tried to prolong the sensation.

When it finally subsided, your heart was still pounding and your eyes peeled open. The room took a moment to fall into focus, but through the haze, you could see Sebastian’s form. 

He slumped in his chair, shoulders forward and knees bent. He looked positively miserable, as if he’d been dragged through absolute hell. 

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you… do you want to… take your turn?”

“No. I… don’t need to.”

Your eyes fell to his lap. “Oh.”

Now, you were feeling torn between guilt and pride; remorseful for making your poor boyfriend sit through such a sinful act; proud of the clear power you held over him. But this was his fault. You were perfectly content on studying until he decided to exhibit such feral behavior. You were simply matching his conduct. And now you knew you could make him come without even touching him.

But you were also physically spent. The magic barrier continued to glimmer across the room as you redressed yourself. Sebastian watched you quietly, his expression sedated and sleepy.

You nearly laughed as you realized he looked more spent than you did. But even the relief you had given yourself could never match the absolute euphoria of Sebastian’s touch. You already found yourself wanting it as soon as possible.

With time to spare as you waited for the barrier to fade, you tried to return to your reading. But now, your prior tension was replaced with a sluggish post-orgasm haze that made you drowsy. So instead, you curled up on the sofa with your head on the arm rest, asleep within minutes.

A gentle nudge pulled you from your nap. You sat up to find Sebastian lounging on the sofa next to you. 

“Seb?”

“Hey, darling.”

“How long was I asleep?”

Sebastian consulted his pocket watch. “Little over two hours.”

“Two hours ? Why did you let me sleep that long?”

“You looked like you needed it. Especially after that grand… performance you put on.”

Your cheeks flushed and you noticed Sebastian was wearing a new pair of trousers. “Did you… where did-”

“I went back to my dorm to change,” Sebastian explained. His cool, calm demeanor caught you off guard. You had been certain he’d be eager to ravish – or punish – you for your earlier antics. “Dinner’s going to start soon. You hungry?”

“I should be studying,” you groaned as you realized you had wasted an entire afternoon. The History of Magic exam was tomorrow.

“I’ll tell you what, love. How about we go grab some dinner and then you can study in peace and quiet. I’ll use the time to visit Anne,” Sebastian offered.

You blinked at him, your suspicion raised instantly. “Visit Anne,” you repeated blankly.

“Yes, Anne. You know, my sister?”

Something didn’t feel right. You knew Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks attached at the hip – literally and figuratively – and you couldn’t believe he’d be willing to spend the evening apart so willingly.

“You’re not going to punish me?” you asked stupidly. “For earlier?”

Sebastian barked a laugh. “What for, darling? How could I possibly be upset about having such an independent girlfriend?”

“Independent?”

“Yes, independent. Clearly you can take care of yourself. You don’t need me.”

Ah, there it was. His gameplay. You knew he wouldn’t let you off the hook. He was going to withhold sex from you as punishment. He’d seen how you agonized when Andrew had denied you for weeks, but he knew this would be much worse. You liked Andrew but you loved Sebastian. You’d spent the past two weeks absolutely enamored by the way he ruined you. 

This would become a game; a contest to see who could pretend to care less. And you’d give it your best performing act. Because you knew Sebastian, too. He was merely a man; a man who couldn’t contain himself at the mere sight of you falling apart hours earlier. 

So instead of protesting, you flashed him your prettiest smile and draped your arms around him in a hug, feigning gratitude for a night off.

—

Your gratitude was short-lived. You went to bed alone that night, tired after an evening of actual studying in the Room of Requirement by yourself. But by midnight, you were tossing and turning in distress over the excruciating ache that had returned between your legs.

Sebastian sauntered into the Great Hall the next morning and pressed a kiss to your temple as he slid into the seat next to you.

“Get all your studying done?” he asked casually.

“I know more about the outlawing of dragon breeding than I know the back of my hand,” you sighed. “How’s Anne?”

“She’s good,” Sebastian answered as he heaped a pile of eggs onto his plate. “I, uh… told her about us.”

You froze mid-bite into a slice of pineapple. “You did?”

“Relax,” Sebastian chuckled. “She’s thrilled for us. I knew she would be. She claims she knew all along that we’d end up together.”

You spent the remainder of breakfast quizzing each other for your exams, but beneath the table, you squirmed, annoyed that Sebastian had managed to appear so nonchalant over your lack of intimacy the previous night. What you didn’t know was that he’d spent the later hours of the evening relieving himself – twice – at the memory of what you’d done in the Room of Requirement.

The day’s exams didn’t end until late afternoon, meaning you didn’t see Sebastian again until dinner. You were dissecting the answers to the Arithmancy exam with Imelda Reyes when Sebastian appeared, lowering himself across from you.

“Survive that Muggle Studies exam, Sallow?” Imelda asked. 

“Easily,” Sebastian answered as he shifted his gaze to you.

“How was History of Magic?” he asked.

“Dreadful, but I think I aced it,” you answered.

“That’s my girl.”

Imelda rolled her eyes and redirected the conversation to her upcoming tryout with the Montrose Magpies. 

You listened to the details, genuinely happy your friend was close to securing her dream, but you couldn’t avert your eyes from Sebastian who was watching you quietly. When your eyes locked, he reached for an apple from the bowl on the table.

You narrowed your eyes in a silent quizzical stare as Imelda rambled on, her voice fading to a background hum as Sebastian took a slow and deliberate bite from the apple. His jaw closed and you could practically hear him sucking the juice from the apple’s skin. He chewed carefully and swallowed before he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes still on yours.

Your hips shifted in your seat. Sebastian noticed and smirked. 

You spent the remainder of the meal pretending Imelda’s quidditch tryout was the most fascinating thing you’d ever heard.

Students spent that evening enjoying the extended curfew that only came during exam week. Many lingered in the Great Hall while others scattered across the school grounds to take advantage of the warm evening. The rest retreated to the library to continue their studying.

You, however, didn’t make it down the steps to the Viaduct Courtyard before Sebastian was steering you toward the dungeons.

You greeted the few familiar faces in the Slytherin Common Room until Sebastian impatiently prodded you with his knee. After ascending the steps to the boys’ dormitories, he ushered you inside his room and kicked the door shut. The room was empty, his roommates likely out enjoying the evening, and you couldn’t wait to enjoy yours.

“Thought you were going to make me wait,” you teased as you slid yourself backward onto the bed, your legs dangling off the side.

“That was me making you wait,” Sebastian growled. You snorted.

“Seb, that was one day,” you noted.

“And that was more than enough.”

His admission that he couldn’t bear more than one day without burying himself inside you was exhilarating.

Sebastian all but dove for you, his hands clawing at your shoes and tights. Your skirt and panties followed until only your blouse and bra remained. 

Sebastian groaned at the sight of your entrance, which was already slick with anticipation. His arms hooked around your legs, yanking you to the edge of the bed.

“You’ve been fucking killing me,” he whined as he lowered himself between your legs.

A low, slow sigh left your lips the moment his tongue made contact with your entrance. He lapped at you in so much earnest, you could feel his breaths against your swollen skin.

He planted a kiss to your clit before a finger teased your folds. Your hips rocked in agony, your cunt desperate to swallow any part of Sebastian he’d allow. 

Two fingers sank into you and you instantly scolded yourself for thinking your own hands were worth a damn while in the Room of Requirement the previous day. Nothing felt as good as Sebastian. 

You moaned as you stretched around his fingers, your wet arousal making him hiss. 

“Fucking hell.”

He pulled his hand away and you whimpered in protest, though your frustration was short-lived as you watched him suck his fingers. It was an erotic vision that made your nipples harden.

“Better than any stupid apple,” he murmured. And his mouth returned to you again.

Fists balled the bed covers in your hands as your back sank deeper into the bed while you lifted your hips and gasped for more; more pressure, more relief, more Sebastian. His tongue teased your clit until his entire mouth was around your entrance, sucking at your flesh.

“Fuck, Seb. I’m so close.”

You could feel his tongue flatten over your clit in brisk swipes. The sound that vibrated from your throat was more of a pulsing hum than a moan as your eyes clamped shut, your focus drilled on the edge of your looming orgasm.

“Seb, I’m going to c-”

And then, silence. The pressure and heat was gone in an instant and your eyes shot open. Sebastian loomed over you, his glistening lips parted in a smug grin.

It was infuriating. You were splayed out, exposed and vulnerable, and your boyfriend had the audacity to tease and torture you. You wanted to curse him, hex him and pummel him with your fists.

But the best you could manage was a sharp, pained whine. And Sebastian, that cruel, conniving prick, responded with a short and maniacal laugh.

You glared, your cheeks flushed and your entrance seeping, determined to get your release. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d just have to be an independent woman.

Your hand snapped to your entrance, fingers working frantically. It caught Sebastian off guard and he moved quickly to pin your hands to the bed above your head. You kicked your feet and he forced himself on top of you, more weight pushing your wrists downward into the mattress.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You’re going to wait for me. Understand?” You nodded in compliance. 

Sebastian didn’t speak as he returned to his feet. You watched with dark eyes as he reached for his belt, the buckle clinking softly as it released. His pants dropped to the floor, followed by his boxers. He slid his shirt overhead and stepped out of the heap of clothes on the floor, his erection bobbing as he moved.

He crawled over you again, one of his knees deliberately placed between your thighs, inches from your entrance. One hand worked slowly at the buttons of your blouse, addressing them one-by-one until your chest was exposed. 

That same hand snaked its way beneath you, fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it snapped apart, your breasts falling from its hold. Sebastian helped you from your shirt and bra, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

“So fucking perfect,” he said. You shifted miserably beneath him. 

He lowered his mouth to your right breast, his tongue tracing slowly over your nipple. The bed creaked as his knee shifted closer, pressing itself against your cunt. You whimpered, certain that your body was going to catch fire.

Sebastian cupped your breast, pressing a trail of kisses to your neck where you could feel him smiling into your skin. His knee twitched and he snorted against the crook of your neck.

“You are so fucking wet,” he laughed. 

You narrowed your eyes in ire, but the pressure of skin against your entrance was intoxicating. You couldn’t help yourself. You bucked your hips, grinding your folds against Sebastian’s leg.

He looked ecstatic. 

“And I thought I was a pathetic mess in the Room of Requirement yesterday,” he mused as he gazed down at you. “But look at you, trying to fall apart against my fucking leg .”

If it hadn’t been for the students lounging in the Common Room below, you would have screamed. Or murdered him.

Sebastian pulled away to stand over you, the cool room coursing over your skin without his warmth.

“You know,” Sebastian murmured. “All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please,” you breathed. Your chest heaved and your hips rocked against nothing. It was shameful but you were void of any dignity now.

“That’s better.” You couldn’t help but pout at him and he grinned. “You know, darling, I don’t like making you wait either. My self-restraint has been hanging by a thread all day.”

“Then stop making me wait,” you growled. “ Please .”

Hearing you beg with authority was his final undoing. Sebastian liked to dominate you, but he liked your fiery attitude even more. It was what made him fall so stupidly in love with you in the first place. 

He pushed your legs apart and stood between them, his eyes drinking in the way your body was laid out for him, your breasts bouncing with every movement. 

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you moaned in relief as you felt it settle inside you, pushing and stretching you until you were filled.

“I have to say,” Sebastian panted as he paused to allow your walls to adjust to his size. “I quite like the view from up here. Can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath me.”

“Then hurry the fuck up,” you hissed. Sebastian beamed at you.

He started slow, pulling his cock until the head lingered near the folds of your entrance before he rocked his hips forward, sinking into you until he was fully sheathed again. His plan had been to tease you like this for quite some time, with leisurely, deliberate strokes slow enough that you’d feel every inch of his cock parting your walls. But reality was quite sobering. Soon, Sebastian’s restraint shattered and he was pumping into you at a short, steady pace, his eyes glued to the spot where you were connected. 

“My god,” he choked. The view of your cunt swallowing his length repeatedly turned his brain to mush, but nothing had prepared him for the sight of your wet arousal coating his shaft.

Your moans filled the room, your hands gripping and squeezing your nipples. Sebastian grunted at the sight of you playing with your own breasts, an erotic vision straight from years of his fantasies. 

“God, you take me so well,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled your body into his thrusts.

You were teetering on the edge of ruin, your nerves heightened from the edging Sebastian had given you with his tongue moments ago. He reached down to trace circles over your clit, the extra source of sensation pushing you through the threshold.

“Sebastian!” The cry of his name preceded a sharp gasp as the swelling wave inside you crashed. Your toes curled and your back arched as your walls spasmed and grasped around Sebastian’s cock. 

Sebastian pressed the tip of his cock hard into your sweet spot, coaxing more moisture that dripped down his length while you orgasmed. He held it there until you were done crumbling around him.

“You’re fucking perfect when you come,” Sebastian croaked. He reached for your ankles and pulled them together, lifting them into the air to rest against his shoulder.

He regained a steady rhythm of thrusts, the new position squeezing your tight heat around him. His cock drove upward, drilling hard until you were certain you were too sensitive to handle him.

Sebastian’s grip tightened around your ankles, his thrusts falling out of sync as he began to unravel. The smacking sound reverberated off the walls. But you were too selfish to allow him to quit just yet.

“Seb, I’m close,” you moaned.

Sebastian grunted. “Going to come for me again so soon?” he managed.

“Yes, please. Please .”

His jaw was clenched so tight you feared it would crack, but his cock pounded your cunt harder. The pitch of your moans drifted higher and higher until the peak of the noise matched the peak inside your core. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Sebastian coughed just as your final orgasm tore through your insides. You came so hard, you arched off the bed, your ankles digging downward into Sebastian’s shoulder as you cried out. His knees would have buckled beneath the force if he hadn’t tensed from his own climax, his body going rigid as his cock twitched. He groaned through the sensation until he used your leg to pull your body flush against himself with one final slam, spurting his release inside you.

He remained there, though he was barely able to stand as you wondered if your skeleton had vacated your body. 

“Fucking hell,” Sebastian panted. “Let’s never go that long without each other again.”

“Agreed,” you murmured.

And before you could move apart, the dormitory door swung open and Ominis strode in. He froze dead in his tracks, the tip of his wand glowing vibrant red as he analyzed the scene before him.

“Are you two fucking serious?!”

[ddongtsan]

What If I Said Yes? - Kim Donghyun

Leehan x fem. reader

Note: I confess that sometimes I also feel tired of being a girl. But then I think that I actually just need someone to make me feel like a real girl.

Warning: Friends to lovers, fluff, drabble.

The rain tapped against the window, the rhythmic sound filling the quiet of your room.

You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of the day pressed down on you.

Nothing had gone right.

First, you’d forgotten your umbrella and arrived at school drenched.

Then, the test you’d spent countless nights studying for turned out to be full of questions that seemed written in a foreign language.

And to top it all off, the group chat with your friends was silent — everyone seemed too busy to talk.

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your phone, scrolling aimlessly through your messages. His name was at the top of your recent chats: Leehan.

Leehan was… complicated.

He was the kind of person who could light up a room with just a smile and always seemed to know the right thing to say.

You couldn’t deny the flutter in your chest every time you thought of him. But you two weren’t anything official. Just friends.

Friends with an unspoken tension that neither of you dared to address.

Without giving yourself time to overthink, you opened the chat and typed:

Being a girl sucks.

The moment you hit send, regret washed over you.

What if he thought you were being overly dramatic? Or worse, what if he didn’t respond at all? But before you could dwell on it, your phone vibrated.

Being my girl wouldn’t.

You blinked at the screen, your heart skipping a beat.

Did he really just say that? Typical Donghyun, always so confident, always knowing how to throw you off balance.

Still, you tried to play it cool.

Oh yeah? And what would make it so different?

This time, he didn’t reply with a text. Your phone buzzed with an incoming call, and his name lit up the screen.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, already feeling the nervous flip in your stomach.

“Do you really want me to explain this over text?” His voice was low, teasing, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest.

“I thought you were busy today” you said, feigning nonchalance.

“I always have time for you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile creeping onto your face. Kim always had this effect on you, and he knew it.

“Alright, convince me then. Why would being your girl be so amazing?”

He laughed softly, the sound so warm and genuine that it made your heart flutter.

“Well, for starters, I’d make you laugh every day. Like right now — I know you’re trying not to smile even though I’m totally getting to you.”

“I’m not smiling!” You protested, though it was a blatant lie.

“Sure you aren’t.” He paused, and you could almost picture the smirk on his face.

“And more than that, I’d remind you every single day how amazing you are. On bad days, like today, I’d take you out for your favorite milkshake or do something dumb to distract you — like singing terrible karaoke songs.”

For a moment, you didn’t respond, the warmth in your chest growing stronger. His words were so simple, yet they meant so much more than he probably realized.

“And what if I said I want to test that theory?” You asked, surprised by your own boldness.

There was a brief silence on the other end before leehan spoke, his voice slightly lower, almost serious.

“Then I guess you just became my girl.”

Your heart was racing now, but at the same time, you felt an unexpected calm, like this was where you were meant to be all along.

“Okay” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “But I’m holding you to that milkshake part.”

He laughed again, the sound sending butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And for the first time that day, everything felt right.

Maybe, just maybe, being a girl wasn’t so bad — at least, not if you were his girl.

[ghostgirl-22]

i think art identifies as totally 100% straight but squirms whenever he gets the slightest bit of male attention, and patrick is just waiting for the realization to hit him (and maybe trying to help him realize it, in his own way)

Poor baby— he’s so lost <3

CW:18+

—-

Art thinks he’s straight and that’s fine. Patrick’s not gonna argue his sexuality with him. He sees things in black and white. In his mind there’s straight and there’s gay and that’s it. They’re lying in bed one night watching a gay episode of Date My Mom on MTV and Art’s made up his mind. “I couldn’t even imagine it honestly, I’m just so attracted to women,” he explains matter of factly. As if one negates the other.

Patrick’s actually coming around to the fact that he, himself, probably likes both.

One too many nights spent jerking it while thinking about Art stepping out of the foggy bathroom, towel sitting low on his glistening waist, wet curls in his eyes. Art bent over in front of him on the tennis court while they’re in the middle of a doubles match. Art sitting across from him on his bed, legs spread wide, skin flushed, hands shoved down his pants moaning while they watch the Mummy on TV and perv over Rachel Weisz (and Patrick secretly on Brandon Fraser). Either way he’s starting to realize he likes at least one boy. A lot.

The reason he thinks Art is a repressed little liar is because of how squirmy he gets when boys flirt with him. Boarding school is so weird. They’re with boys all the time. The girls dorms are on the other side of the school and there’s something about being all cooped up together, sweaty and close, hormones going crazy that’s led to some… experimentation.

And plenty of boys want to experiment with Art. He’s blue eyed, easy to blush, long brown lashes, pretty smile, and the perfect little slutty waist. Of course he gets all kinds of male attention and he absolutely falls apart every time.

The flirting could be a little or a lot. It doesn’t matter… Art gets silly for it. Little compliments and he’s sitting on his hands, grinning too much. A bit of teasing and flirting and he’s giggling when things aren’t even funny. Fucking giggling.

Patrick’s present for a lot of it. Boys teasing him during gym class snapping at his waistband, the kind of immature grade school teasing like pulling on a girls braids repeatedly because you just want her to notice you. All that before they start calling him pretty boy and asking what color his underwear is and he really gets antsy. Then by the end of class there’s Art, cheeks pink, eyes bright. And he’s letting them take turns looking down his pants to see the color for themselves.

The little games of footsie with Sammy Kline under the table in the cafeteria. Art acting like it’s not flirting but they’re going back and forth all period, exchanging glances. Art’s all antsy, sucking on his spoon by the time lunch is over. And Patrick accidentally walks in on Sammy touching himself in an empty bathroom right after.

Or when Art is play wrestling with Jamal Butler after practice and he squeezes Art’s thigh just under his knee because he’s so ticklish there and Art is giggling and kicking and whining “stop it.” Breathless and airy, his weight settled on Jamal’s chest. Patrick tightened his grip on his phone, thinking Jamal would try to kiss him but Art pushed him down and grinned all flushed. “I beat you.”

Jamal playfully messes with Arts hair when they get to their feet and Patrick notices the way Art shivers for it. When Jamal leaves to get dressed Patrick is also aware when Art needs to adjust himself, just the slightest bit.

Art’s not just oblivious to the fact that what they’re doing is flirting, he’s oblivious to his own flirting.

He doesn’t think it’s flirting when he lets boys give him little things. An extra orange juice at breakfast. (“Please, can I have it? I’m still really, really thirsty.”) A candy bar from the vending machine. (“I’ll marry you if you get me a snickers right now.”) A hoodie to wear if he’s cold while they sit in the stands waiting for their match to start. (“I love you so much, I can’t believe I forgot mine.”) He’s always soft and tentative when he asks as if he can’t have whatever he fucking wants. As if boys don’t fall all over themselves for him.

Patrick’s probably in that category of flirting, giving Art everything… taking Art’s everything. Sharing cigarettes, drinks, food, clothes, a bed… everything he can.

Patrick’s actually obsessed with it. Can’t stop jerking himself off thinking about the ways Art gets all flustered around boys. Wiggling in his chair, bouncing his leg, wetting his lips, chewing on his thumb, on his clothes, on his pen… needs to put something in his mouth. These anxious little ticks. Art can’t name the feelings he’s feeling but Patrick knows what they are. They share the bedroom, he can hear it when Art’s touching. Knows he’s not really thinking about his girlfriend.

It’s with Patrick that boundaries consistently blur. Like the day when Jamal didn’t kiss him and his girlfriend was out of town and he’s crawling into Patrick’s bed asking him for help to practice so he can kiss her better. As if they don’t both know better.

And god forbid if Patrick points any of this out, or ever asks him about his behaviour. Art would laugh it off. He’d say Patrick is exaggerating and that those boys are just being friendly, they don’t want him. Besides it makes no sense because he has a girlfriend. But he’s still stuck in black and white… doesn’t really see all the colors of the rainbow yet.

Patrick finds it all amusing…one day it’ll hit him like a ton of bricks, like when he discovered it was okay to like both Nsync and the Backstreet Boys at the same time. Not that he’d ever really admit that he likes either but that’s a whole different story.

Patricks gonna be there to kiss him on that day too.

(Idk i wrote this on the clock I fear…sorry if it’s all a mess…but so is Art 😅)

[vintagerpg]

The Tasks of Tantalon (1985) is sort of a Fighting Fantasy oddity, the first Fantasy Questbook, written by Steve Jackson. This is essentially an illustrated puzzle book in the spirit of Masquerade and other armchair treasure hunting books. Unlike many similar books that started to appear around the same time, there was never a prize for solving Tasks, as far as I know, but Puffin did eventually release a solution guide that explains everything. That should give you a sense of how difficult the damn thing is. I managed the counting puzzles well enough but everything else veers sharply into the inscrutable. I looked up the solution for the location of the Ting Ring, which is hidden somewhere in the painting of the alchemist’s lab, and I just simply do not believe anyone would have A. Ever found it to begin with and B. If they did, ever feel sure they had gotten the correct answer. I think that is probably the most frustrating thing about the book — there is really no certainty in the proceedings. I spent scads of time poring over the pictures and straining my brain, but within the text, there is nothing the assures me that I am on the right track. Perhaps doing so proved too difficult a task? I don’t know, but I can say with some certainty that I never felt so angry with Maze.

I should also note that it isn’t apparent who this is really for. The presentation feels very much tied, if obliquely, to Puffin’s Fighting Fantasy books. Yet it is A4, full-color, linear and seems geared to a younger audience. But only seems. It is clearly meant for an older audience, as it is impossible for me to imagine children tackling these puzzles. This enigma of audience is ever more present in the second Fantasy Questbook.

Anyway, the paintings are all by Stephen Lavis, whose work I am not familiar with. He seems in a way a synthesis of other ’70s fantasists I know better — there are glimmers of Alan Lee, William Stout, Julek Heller and others in here. I like it, but encountering it so much later than those others makes it feels slightly disorientating. For me, anyway. Love the Minotaur and Medusa here. And the lobster joust!

[eyrieofsynapses]

so uh, I am brand-new to Star Trek (as in not even finished with the third TOS season), so I don't have much background here, but I have thoughts? I am also not a biologist, mind you, just researching online and using what I remember from gen-ed classes. I may have lost myself down the rabbit hole for… er. a while. a long while.

For the record, this is me trying to apply Earth biology and logic, which I know is not actually applicable to literal aliens or fiction. The joy of writing is being able to say "fuck it, this is fiction, I make the rules now."

But. Science is fun. So here's me trying to Science it.

First: points of consideration! Vulcan is a desert planet. It's close to its star with a thinner atmosphere, and notably hotter than Earth. A thinner atmosphere makes it harder for a planet to regulate temperature and may block less solar radiation. We also know, thanks to Amok Time, that humans can't breathe as easily there, probably due to lower oxygen. So, this means: 1) The temperature difference between day and night is probably more significant than Earth's (because desert and thinner atmosphere). 2) Less oxygen is available.

(For the record, I don't think humanoids would develop on a purely desert planet, but my tangent on this got so long that I'm cutting it. Also sci-fi hand-wavey suspension of disbelief.)

Second: what we already know! …or what I know from the first and second seasons of TOS, what y'all pointed out in the thread, and what I looked up via wikis. The links on episode titles go to transcripts.

Copper blood: Vulcan hemoglobin (the protein used to carry oxygen around) is copper-based, not iron-based (TOS "Obsession"), hence the green blood.

Blood pressure and heartrate: They have significantly lower blood pressure than humans, but a much, much higher heartrate—assuming Sarek's stats during surgery in "Journey to Babel" are applicable, anyway. (Again, I am very new to Star Trek, so that definitely could contradict something newer.)

Cool blood (and low metabolism): Their blood is cooler than humans', possibly implying a lower body temperature. McCoy also comments on Spock's nigh-unmeasurably low metabolism (TOS "The Paradise Syndrome").

Temperature tolerance: They have a considerably wider range of temperature tolerance than humans. (This is implied by their planet's natural temperature range, and by the fact that Spock is usually okay at human temperatures, but, when he can't regulate his temperature so well, apparently finds 125 degrees (presumably Fahrenheit) "tolerable" in "The Deadly Years").

(…also. According to Memory Alpha, a fan-made medical reference text provides some stats. But it's not considered canon, doesn't reference Earth science, and I spent way too long researching this to end it at that.)

SO. Let's go through those "what we already know" points.

Green blood and copper-based hemoglobin: This is a real thing! Some animals DO use copper instead of iron to carry oxygen around! Except they're invertebrates (ex. octopuses, some spiders), the blood is blue, it's not called hemoglobin, it's in an open circulatory system, and it's not like vertebrate blood. It's called hemocyanin, and it free-floats in the invertebrate equivalent to blood (hemolymph) rather than being shipped around by red blood cells.

(For the record, there are other types of blood that are green, but they don't use copper. But blood color varies for other reasons too. I'm handwaving this one.)

Vulcans clearly have closed circulatory systems (closed = blood pumps through vessels, open = sloshes around organs freeform), so they'd need cells to carry oxygen around, so they probably don't use hemolymph.

If you're wondering "but we evolved from invertebrates, so why don't we use copper?" like I was, it's because COPPER SUCKS AT CARRYING OXYGEN. At least in comparison to iron. (Unless you're in deep sea environments, which the desert is not.) So presumably, Earth vertebrates started using iron somewhere along the line. Vulcans did not.

My conclusion: Vulcan biology uses copper in a way that's analogous to how humans use iron, but somehow finds a way to make it efficient enough to match said iron's oxygen capcity. Also, considering that Vulcan seems to have less oxygen in its atmosphere, I'd guess their systems use oxygen more efficiently overall, or they just don't require as much. So maybe it doesn't even need to be quite as efficient. (Coming back later: to my gratification, Memory Alpha also notes the oxygen issue, although in this case it notes that Vulcans have more efficient respiratory systems to get the oxygen needed.)

Lower blood pressure, higher heart rate: I think beastlyanachronism is right about this one. However, circulatory systems are extremely complex and I know nothing about them (I'm a communications person, not a doctor, Jim!), so I'm not really the person to ask. I did some reading to try to educate myself for the sake of this question, though. Anyway: lower blood pressure implies that the Vulcan heart doesn't beat very hard, but it seems to beat faster to make up for the lower pressure. This clicks with the idea that Vulcans use oxygen more efficiently/need less oxygen than humans, since the heart doesn't have to do so much work.

Finally! Body temperature. I'm combining "cold blood" and "wide temperature tolerance range." And I did Much Research. I'm going to explain some biology stuff that some folks probably already know, but for those like me who don't remember the nitpick bits of biology class, I figure this might be useful.

Generally speaking, there are two types of animal when it comes to regulating body temperature: ectothermic (i.e., primarily relies on environmental heat sources and produces little internal heat; e.g. reptiles, amphibians, fish), and endothermic (i.e., generates internal heat and maintains a more-or-less constant body temperature; e.g. mammals and birds). It's way more nuanced than that, but we're talking broad strokes. (More reading: 1, 2, 3)

(Side note, the ducks kedreeva mentioned are maybe using regional heterothermy.)

Colloquially, you would hear these referred to as "cold-blooded" and "warm-blooded" respectively, but science doesn't use those terms anymore because it's not how they technically work; e.g., lots of active ectotherms keep their body temperature in mammal-range. There are others that conform to their surrounding environments, like fish, but as far as I can tell, they need a fairly consistent environmental temperature range. Endotherms, meanwhile, rely on their internal heat source: the excess heat energy from their internal functions.

Heat's important to animals for… well, multiple reasons, but a big one is chemical processes, because they're fiddly and need specific temperatures. Life itself is basically just a bunch of chemical processes.

The problem with ectotherms is that they're reliant on their environment. Their activity is tied to temperature, and the colder it is, the more they slow down. If it gets too hot, they overheat. Also, they have slower metabolisms, and don't necessarily store energy the way endotherms do. Long, extended periods of high activity are harder—if not impossible—for them to maintain, and they can't support big, energy-hoarding brains like endotherms can. (More on intelligence and endo vs ectotherms here.)

Overall, I find it hard to match this with Vulcans, because they seem to perform consistently across a wide variety of temperatures, their brains are very complex and probably need a huge amount of energy, and they're a lot like mammals (hair/fur, similar physical build, etc.), which are exclusively endothermic. Plus, I'm not sure an ectotherm system would be fully compatible with an endotherm, and humans are endotherms, so… I'm not sure Vulcan/human hybrids would work.

The one exception is metabolism, because McCoy does say specifically that Spock's "Vulcan metabolism" is low. (Unfortunately I overlooked that part until after I'd written most of this post.) And, well, Vulcans are aliens, so they COULD be ectothermic-like and just have other things going on that make hybridization possible. And the boundary between ectotherms and endotherms isn't firm; there's plenty of crossover. Or they might be something totally different! So YMMV.

Meanwhile, endotherms—mammals and birds, basically—maintain a stable internal temperature. This comes with trade-offs: we have a higher metabolism (part of what generates our internal heat) and therefore require more food, and we have to be much more intentional with our temperature regulation. 

But. Because endotherms have a consistent internal temperature, we're actually MORE resilient to temperature changes: we can maintain the same activities at warmer and colder temperatures. We can also support bigger and more energy-intensive brains. (Well, mostly; it's more complex than that, but this post is too long already.) I'd argue that Vulcans kind of have to be endotherms, or at least endotherm-like, in order to function across the vast variety of environments we see them in.

…exceeept there's the matter of the cold blood, and their temperature range is still giant (not to mention the accidentally overlooked metabolism issue). BUT. I have a THEORY.

CAMELS.

Camels let their body temperature range between around 34°C (93 Fahrenheit) to over 40°C (104 Fahrenheit). As desert-dwellers, they'll let their body temperature rise over the course of the day and drop during the night. That also helps them conserve water. They have a multitude of other useful adaptations, of course, but what I'm saying here is: they're desert endotherms that change their body temperature according to their environment. So I figure: why not Vulcans, too?

My pet theory: Vulcans are endotherms (or whatever passes for their evolutionary equivalent), but their internal temperature range varies dependent upon their environment. In human-comfortable room temperature, their body temperature might be several degrees below normal human body temperature, thus sparking Dr. McCoy's "ice water" comment. But once you start getting well over a hundred degrees, their body temperatures may come close to a human's, or even go much higher.

(This still doesn't address the metabolism part, but this is what I get for not reading the transcript line thoroughly until I've written a whole post. Bleh. Maybe I'll figure it out later and add a note.)

I also like to think that, assuming evolution already optimized their systems for less oxygen and somehow got copper to be an actually viable oxygen-carrier for vertebrates, maybe the various temperature-dependent chemical reactions in their bodies are more flexible or have other methods of temperature regulation.

…ANYWAY. there's six hours of my life I'll never get back! biologists, my deepest apologies for anything I got wrong, please feel free to yell at me.

Plus one last fun fact: when we look at climate trends on Earth, animals tend to become bigger when Earth cools (ex. mammoths during the latest Ice Age) and smaller when it warms (ex. early horses became teeeeeeny when our climate rapidly warmed back in the Eocene, and then got bigger when things cooled down). This phenomenon is known as Bergmann's rule. Basically, the bigger an animal is, the better it retains heat, and vice versa.

These are Earth rules, of course, and probably there's large Vulcan fauna that evolved to deal with extreme heat, but. look. I find the idea of Vulcans being giants in a world of miniaturized critters amusing, okay?

Okay, I'm all over the place with my physiological grasp of Vulcans. Are they hotter or colder than humans? Why? Does that make them feel the heat more or less than humans? Is their heartbeat faster or slower?

Also if you have a strong opinion or an explanation or anything to say please tell me! I wanna get a grasp on this one

[kisses4kuna]

How I think the jjk characters would comfort you after a break up !!

Includes: Satoru, Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

(Hurt/comfort, mentions of break ups (obviously) murder and vandalism (jokingly), might be ooc, written with fem! reader in mind but anyone can read!! Please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, I accidentally posted this twice...!..!.!!! So fixing it was a little difficult so ignore it if any paragraphs are merged......)

Satoru Gojo:

You've been isolating yourself in your dorm for about three days now.

The guy you've been dating just dumped you and you've been devastated since.

Of course, Satoru, Shoko, Nanami, even Yaga have reached out and tried to comfort you, but you brushed it off with a muttered “I'm fine.”, being sure to shut the door in each of their faces before they could say anything more.

But you weren't fine. Of course you weren't.

You were so in love with your ex. He was your entire world and he just left like you were nothing.

You've spent the last three days crying, sleeping, and rereading old texts.

You probably looked like shit, but you couldn't care less. What was the point in trying to look or act decent now that he was gone?

You're forced to pull yourself out of your thoughts once you get a knock at your door.

You groan, you really, really don't wanna talk to anyone, but you force yourself to get up.

You open the door and before you can even get out a full “What do you want?”, Satoru shoves past you into your room with a shit-ton of snacks.

“Did you really think I was gonna let my favorite person stay isolated and wallow in their sadness forever?” He asks, giving you a teasing grin.

You can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

“What's all that for?” You ask, pointing to the snacks that were now covering the entirety of your bed.

“Movie night!! We're gonna watch a bunch of movies and eat a bunch of snacks and stay up all night until you stop being all mopey!” He exclaims, and you feel an excitement replicating his bubbling up in your stomach.

“If your big ass doesn't eat all the snacks...” You mutter back with a sly grin as you get into your bed, sitting beside him.

He immediately puts his hand over his heart and squeezes his shirt with a look of faux offence.

“What!? And to think I went out of my way to be all nice to you after your dick-head boyfriend dumped you!” He whines, crossing his arms to look more angry.

This only pulls laughter out of you. His face immediately softens, it feels much better to see your pretty smile than your depressed frown.

He pulls you into an unexpected hug, and once you process it, you hug him back.

“I can hollow purple him if you want.” He says, muttering the words softly against your hair in order to keep the moment quiet.

“That's not happening and you know it.” You whisper back. Suddenly, this break up isn't seeming so bad.

Maybe you just need Satoru and your other friends, and you'll be better in now time.

Nobara Kugisaki:

Ever since you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you, you've been visibly down in the dumps.

Right now, Nobara is the only one who knows since she helped you catch him.

“I just can't believe him. All that time together and he fucking cheats.” You groan before looking up at Nobara, who's currently going through your closet to help you pick what you need to throw out and what you need to keep since you've got way too much clothes.

“Yeah, he's a total moron. Keep or no?” She asks before lifting up one of your shirts.

“You can throw that out. And with my best friend too? No offense to you, of course, but seriously? He could've slept with anyone, and he chose one of the girls I trusted most in the world.” You shake your head and your heart clenches at the thought.

“Well, at least one good thing came out of this.” She says, tossing your shirt into the ‘keep’ pile.

“What?” You ask with major confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She thinks it's good that you got cheated on?

“Now I get to be your best friend!” She smiles and laughs, and that causes you to laugh as well.

“Yeah, and I guess if he had cheating in his mind, I don't want him anyways.” You then get up off of your bed and sit next to Nobara, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She puts the pair of pants she was holding down and wraps her arm around you.

You both just sit like that. Neither of you says a word, but you feel a sense of peace washing over you for the first time since the break up.

“So do you wanna beat up his car now?” Nobara says, breaking the silence, and all you can do is smile and laugh.

Yuji Itadori:

“He did WHAT??” Yuji practically screams and you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

About thirty minutes ago, you found your boyfriend (well, now ex-boyfriend) kissing another girl.

Your first reaction was to run to Yuji's room despite it being midnight and pray to God that he was still awake.

When he answered the door, you could hear Human Earthworm playing in the background, basically telling you that you hadn't woken him up or anything.

Yuji stares at you with wide eyes and says something from under your hand, buts it's muffled.

“Yuji, you have to shut up! It's midnight and I'm not supposed to be in here! We'll both get our asses kicked if we wake anyone up!” You whisper-scream to him and he begins frantically nodding his head.

You remove your hand from his mouth and wipe it on your shirt since he got a little bit of his spit on it.

“Ew...” You whisper softly.

“I can't believe him! You're supposed to be his Jenifer Lawrence, guys aren't supposed to cheat on their Jenifer Lawrence's!!” He whispers back, somewhat aggressively.

You can't help but chuckle at his dumb reference.

“Tell me his address!! I gotta square up with this guy!!” He whispers again and you laugh again.

You don't know it, but he's acting stupid on purpose. He's not super skilled at comforting people, but he's great at making people laugh.

“‘Square up’??? Yuji, what is this? A 2000's drama comedy?” You whisper through hushed giggles, your hand now over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too hard.

“I'm serious, no one cheats on my best friend without catching these hands!!” He whisper-yells back, which only causes you to laugh harder.

He continues making dumb statements until you both forget the time and are now laughing hard, not even whispering anymore.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door that snaps you two out of your laughter.

Yuji quickly throws a blanket over you to ‘hide’ you in case it's a teacher then gets up to see who's there.

When he opens the door, he's met with an extremely annoyed and tired Megumi.

“Listen, I don't know what the hell you two are doing up at 1:30 in the morning but if you could shut up and go to sleep so that I can sleep, that'd be great.” He groans, glaring at Yuji then you.

“Do you think hiding under a blanket is actually gonna work?” He asks and you get out from under the blanket, your face is slightly flushed from embarrassment.

“That was Yuji's fault.” You say while pointing your finger at Yuji who them gasps.

“What!! I was trying to keep you out of trouble, how dare you push the blame onto me!!” He jokes back, and Megumi groans loudly.

“Just shut up.” He says before storming off back to his room.

Yuji shuts the door then walks back to his bed and sits beside you.

“We should have a sleepover!” He suggests with a big smile.

You tap your chin with your index finger, pretending to think.

“I dunno... You kick a lot in your sleep.” You tease him.

“I do not!” He retorts in offence.

“Fine. But if you kick me even one time then you have to do all my homework for the next month!” You say before laying down in his bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

He smiles and lays beside you.

“Deal.”

Megumi Fushiguro:

You hate this.

You can handle a lot of things, curses, training, homework, fighting...

But break ups?

You would rather take on a hundred special-grade curses all at once.

Megumi knows that about you. Which is why he's decided to let go of his nonchalant ‘I don't care about anything or anyone’ act for just today for you.

He knocks on your door and you answer.

“Oh, hey Megs. What're you doin' here?” You ask, your gaze shifting from his gaze to the blankets and snacks in his hands.

“Don't play dumb. You know I'm here to comfort you.” He rolls his eyes, walking into your room and setting everything down.

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” You smile.

One of your favorite things to do is tease Megumi.

He knows that about you.

Come to think about it, Megumi probably knows everything about you. He's definitely your best friend. You'd probably choose him over anything and anyone. He knows your favorite songs, snacks, meals, movies, drinks, your biggest fears, your type, your pet peeves, everything.

So of course he came with every single snack you've ever said “Hey, this is really good” or “You know what you really need to try -!!” about.

Of course he came with his laptop to watch your favorite movies.

Of course he came with blankets and pillows to build a fort to watch said movies in.

Because contrary to popular belief, Megumi Fushiguro was the most thoughtful person you've ever known.

That's why he's your best friend.

“Oh, by the way, if you get a very detailed and remorseful apology from your ex, don't respond.” He randomly blurts out while building the fort for you two.

It's basically muscle memory for him after how many times he's done this for you.

“Megumi, please tell me you didn't threaten my ex into an apology...” You wince at the thought.

“I didn't threaten him.” He smirks as he puts the final blanket on the fort before crawling in.

You barely catch the smirk because it's gone within the same second it appears.

“Uh huh.” You reply sarcastically before crawling into the fort with him.

“So what do you wanna watch first?” He asks as he lists off all your favorite movies.

If you told anyone that the cold-as-stone Megumi Fushiguro was here in your dorm, building a fort for you and watching your favorite movies with you and cuddling with you when you both fall asleep, they'd laugh in your face.

But that didn't matter to you, since all you cared about was that you got to see that side of Megumi, and you wouldn't trade moments like this for the world.

---

A/n: this is basically just because I have evermore stuck in my head rn and it made me think ab Satoru helping reader after a break up!? Also, guess which one of them is my favorite 😋😋 I think it's obvious but idk..

[taldigi]

how do you feel about yu’s parents?? What do you think they’re like?

I think they're really interesting to explore- believe it or not. I've seen a lot of different interpretations of his parents, ranging from straight up negligent, to being abusive-- or just simply too busy. I've even seen interpretations where they're perfectly fine parents, and that the year abroad is an unusual circumstance.

The game itself, which is what I would consider primary canon (sequels being secondary and manga and anime being tertiary) never touches on it more than it needs to to justify Yu's presence in Inaba/being new. I think Yu's mother is briefly mentioned once or twice and they are said to have called Dojima once.

I made the observation (previously when theorizing about Ren's parents) that it's completely possible that during the downtime that you don't get to see between transition stages (where, theoretically, the main protagonists would do homework or take a shower or tend to other daily needs) it's totally possible that they call or interact with their parents.

All interpretations are possible, but I know Souji Seta's (the protagonist from the Manga) parents are always moving around- and lot of folks have taken this to heart- and yeah, I can see it and I too like this idea- even though it's worth considering the fact that the manga is mostly secondary to the games (and even the anime!) and it's not definite canon.

That being said, I definitely like the idea that they are a sort of echo of the conflict between Nanako and Dojima. Both suggest career oriented people that probably shouldn't have had a kid in the first place who prioritize their work over their family.. and that, in turn, leading to neglect- with Yu and Nanako both being self sufficient. mature for their ages, and complacent.

Behaviors Yu exhibits- like his ability to cook meals beyond what is expected of a teenage boy, becoming incredibly attached to Nanako (he is one wrong dialog choice away from killing someone over her!) and Inaba, the insatiable need to people please, his initial desire to push people away or ignore others, and his otherworldly emotional control and ability to not express himself.. -is stuff like that echos of a kid who's had to grow up way too fast and not cause any trouble and keep to himself.

So personally, I subscribe to that concept: Yu's a kid who's been raised to be seen, not heard- developing complexes and anxieties over being praised for being responsible and mature even though he's only barely meeting that expectation by the skin of his teeth. Nothing less that being perfect for the Narukamis, after all- there's no time to make friends or have many interests when time is better spent on studying.

So... the Narukamis are parents who fufill those concepts. Parents who withhold attention and praise because those are things reserved for truly impressive successes.. and when exemplary is the expected baseline, such rewards are never actually acted upon.

Yu does have a taste in cooking, though- and a selection of music he likes. He doodles in his notes and reads magazines- I feel it expresses that while his parents don't police his interests, it also means that they really care much about their son's interests... as long as they don't interfere with work (and, by extension- Yu's grades or behavior, as he can be considered an asset in said jobs)

Jobs that leave them busy more often than not, leaving Yu alone.. but he's mature for his age, so it's okay. He prolly does a fried egg and toast and then goes and sits in front of the TV to do his homework. Yu seeing this in Nanako... is a lot, and makes their relationship that much more sweet and aajhksdkjasf

His parent's cruelty is best decided on a story by story basis. The level of willfulness in their work (genuinely needed often vs choosing work over family for example) or the level of regret they express upon leaving-- informing many interesting stories.

so yeah thats my thoughts on that.

side tangent, thats why souyo's so nice tbh. Yu always has to be the inconquerable senpai, the perfect big brother, noble leader, and everyone's rock- only to have Yosuke waltz up , hang off of him like a drunk girlfriend, and go "yeah he's amazing, but he's also the world's weirdest man and he's my best friend about it."

[natsmagi]

ok no i need to bitch because i have remained positive and hopeful throughout most of !!-era because i believed that happyele loved their characters and wouldnt deliberately go out of their way to butcher them but time and time again i have been proven wrong on this fact. and seeing the way theyre doubling down on having ibuki, a ryukyuan kid from okinawa, join a traditional "wa" japanese unit that embraces mainland japan traditions when the mainland has continuously tried to make okinawa theirs and disregard the ryukyuan identity WHILE ALSO LITERALLY HAVING EICHI COLONIZE OKINAWA IN ATLANTIS its all just becoming too much. I am no expert when it comes to these topics so do not take my word when it comes to jp culture, conflict and the likes, but knowing how poorly happyele has continuously time and time again treated their indigenous (or middle eastern in adonis's case) cast i cannot see this going well. Not to mention how having ibuki join akatsuki goes against everything the three of them have built up and the whole POINT of their unit and that for them to even fucking put this garbage in the story they had to make keito PAINFULLY ooc to pull it off because NO OTHER REALITY WOULD ALLOW IT!!!!! theyre taking akatsukis developments and throwing it out the window in an attempt to make them something "new" and more profitable while also using a beloved group that so many have spent so much of their time loving and supporting into nothing but a scapegoat for their imperialist propaganda im so unbelievably angry that theyre doubling down on this. im so angry that theyre stupid enough to let shit like this pass

and im sure youve probably read posts explaining the aktk thing better than i ever couldve, esp considering im not an aktkP, but im also writing this to tell the fans of big units to Stop Giving In. do not feel safe just because happyele is scared of losing you, because I used to be an undeadP before getting into switch and the reason i STOPPED producing them was because they viewed the unit as nothing but a money-maker machine and would completely disregard their developments for the sake of feeding into tropes that fans liked and they cared more about yaoibait than they did the characters themselves. They tossed out any growth rei and ritsu had in opperetta for the sake of bringing back sakuma brothers conflict in that painfully annoying la mort story and theyre gonna keep doing this shit until fans tire of it. valkyrie, eden and knights are three super popular units with upcoming events, and i seriously need you to not give happyele any of your time or money because they do not deserve it.

even with switch, a rather unpopular unit, theres been total garbage pulled. in switchs case i think its safe to say that akira does genuinely really care for natsume and tsumugis relationship considering thats basically all that man even includes in his switch stories, but he never really knows what to do with sora. And i feel like he doesnt really care. Like sure i can sit here and be like "well at least MY favs seem to be doing alright" but thats purely because they keep spoon-feeding us crumbs of the units popular ships so we wont complain. i still really like their dynamic and i strongly disagree with alot of fans saying natsume and tsumugi have been OOC lately, but like. Look at sora man. i dont mind him having a little gf in the virtual world, i dont mind him growing more independent, i dont mind him relying less on his synesthesia. but the executions are just. Theyre painful. with the synesthesia thing esp bc synesthesia doesnt just go away. You couldve easily made a simple point of "you cant always rely on your synesthesia to know how people feel" because that is TRUE! but that would de-fetishize this idea these people have of synesthesia being some Magical Ability and not just a neurological condition. And with the sora being more independent; this is also something thats been needed for his story! natsume and tsumugi would often coddle him way too much, and sora himself would complain about being treated as a kid. But like. sora has started to feel so disconnected from switch in a way.....? and this has even been a point of conflict in stories, sora not knowing how to partake in ntmgs conversations because theyre too difficult, or being sad that ntmg never have time to hang out with him. But instead of working on these things, they just. keep having sora hang out with people outside of natsume and tsumugi? who have practically become a package deal at this point?? literally having sora join a NEW UNIT without natsume or tsumugi????????? i dont know. im rambling but i just wanted to get this out there. Theyre my specialest guys in the whole entire world and i just want to make people more cautious of thinking "well the aktk thing wouldnt happen to MY fav unit! they wouldnt butcher MY favs!" because they very much can. even if theres an aspect youre still hooked on, other factors are visibly crumbling because management cares only about what will bring the most revenue, and not what is best for the character

i cant help but feel the reason theyre pulling this shit with akatsuki is because they felt as though they somewhat got away with it with Double Face and raked in some extra cash because kohaku ended up popular, so now theyre doing that again but taking it to the next extreme. its disheartening

anyway. i will continue to draw and enjoy ensemble stars. But i wont be supporting them financially anymore as they clearly do not care about fans at all. if i desperately want some merch ill just buy it second-hand. And while im at it, i need you people to stop telling enstarries to get into some other idol franchise instead as if the main problem here isnt how disgustingly predatory they are. Happy Elements were THE biggest joseimuke franchise, making the most money out of all their competitors, and it still wasnt enough. they still didnt respect their fans. when the fans would continuously respect their wishes. Enstars is like the only fandom ive seen that doesnt share leaks for example, yet this courtesy means nothing to them. Corporations arent your friends, never have been and never will be. those characters arent real, they do not have feelings of their own. They were all written by someone to serve a purpose, and this includes ibuki being an indigenous kid joining the wa japanese culture unit. To use this popularity to spread so much fucking bigotry and hatred is heartbreaking. And to blame the fans for being upset over it????????????? youre disgusting happyele.