#if something looks nice the only way i can describe my feelings towards it is saying i want to eat it

[sturns-angel]

bsf!matt finds out bsf!reader has been feeling the same way he has... ❗️SMUT - MDNI❗️ ❕WRITER'S NOTE: this is my first smut that i'm actually posting, PLEASE tell me if this is ass.❕

"get off of me, you freak!" nick shouts, shoving chris with an exaggerated amount of force. chris stumbles back towards the counter and i can't contain my laughter. they've been 'arguing' for the past 10 minutes while matt and i simply sit back and enjoy the entertainment.

i had agreed to filming a video with the triplets before finding out the topic; 'say it or eat it'. the challenge of eating something disgusting doesn't scare me, it's the questions. they've been ruthless thus far and i can only assume they're gonna get worse. i've already been asked 2 questions as of now and i just know that the rest will be harsh.

'describe your first love.' nick read from his phone with an almost evil smirk. i stare at the spoonful of sauerkraut that's set out on the table in front of me and gulp. 'in what way?' i ask, eyeing the brothers standing beside me.

i had reluctantly answered the question in order to avoid the punishment.

'matt! describe the last dream you can remember, including embarrassing details.' chris announced as he pushed a small bowl of blue cheese stuffed olives towards him. matt groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. he looked to the bowl, then slowly lifted his head as he found my eyes. i raised my eyebrows as i waited to see how he'd handle the situation. before chris can continue with his peer pressure, matt grabbed 2 olives and popped them into his mouth.

chris takes a swig of hot sauce to avoid his question and immediately runs to the sink to rinse his mouth out.

"y/n!" nick grins, holding his phone close to him as if he's trying to hide a secret. "who's your current crush?" chris squeals and jumps around while i stare at the poorly cooked shrimp (thanks to chris).

"that's not fair!" i exclaim as i wince away from the dish. "the only way i can answer that is with a full-on name drop!"

matt chuckles and quickly joins chris in the background of the initial set up, leaning against the counter. despite my gaze being set on nick, i know matt is staring at me. i can practically feel his gaze burning into my skin.

"okay, okay. i know you hate shrimp so i'll make it a little easier." nick explains while he locks his phone and sets it on the table. "describe your current crush; physical or however you choose."

i can feel the heat rushing to my face as i think of my crush. about 5'9, brown hair, blue eyes, full lips, standing within arms reach of me. my mind wanders while chris rushes over to me and throws an arm around my shoulder.

"c'mon y/n! shrimp or most-likely-shrimp-dick?" chris laughs and i nudge his side. when i turn my head to give chris a disgusted look, my eyes meet matts. his gaze is hard, yet somewhat playful. he's always been a bit more protective over me than the other triplets. his judgements of any guy that i showed the slightest bit of interest in were harsh.

i look back to chris who is impatiently waiting for my response. "this is ridiculous." i scoff and brush my hair out of my face. "he's funny, nice, and attractive. done." i throw my hands up. chris and nick groan in annoyance at my answer.

"y/n, that's so lame! we need more than that, like the color of his eyes or..." nick trails off, but chris is quick to continue. "what's the first initial of his first name?" chris asks.

i quickly pick up a piece of the shrimp and take a bite, silently gagging as soon as it hits my tongue.

the last round of questions go by fast, the usual chaos occurring as we finish out the video. matt makes his way over to the camera to do his regular outro and i feel an arm wrap around my shoulders once more.

"thanks for doing the video with us. i'm sure it wasn't easy with your crush here." nick says with a wide grin on his face. i roll my eyes with a soft laugh. of course nick knows about my feelings for matt, but that's as far as i’ve been willing to take it. matt and i have grown super close over the past few weeks and it's made me realize i want more than what we currently have, i just can't bring myself to risk our friendship.

"nick, i'm sleeping in your room tonight and i'm going up there immediately. i'm exhausted." chris explains as he makes his way over to the stairs. nick nods and adds in that he'll be joining him while following close behind.

"are you staying the night?" i hear matt ask while i clean off the table, quickly joining to help me.

"yeah, i'll probably just crash on the couch again." i explain, wiping the table off once matt clears out the last bit of food. he lets out a soft hum in response. we spend a few minutes in silence as we finish cleaning the kitchen before matt finally speaks.

"do you wanna watch a movie? i'm not really tired and movies are a bit boring alone." he asks, wiping his hands off on some paper towels. "unless you're tired - i mean - don't want to-"

"yeah, we can watch a movie." i cut him off with a soft smile. we settle in on the couch in the living room and quickly decide on a thriller. luckily, i came over in a some sweatpants and a t-shirt so i was already pretty comfortable. the same can't be said for matt. about 10 minutes into the movie, i notice matt fidgeting and tugging at his jeans. "you alright?" i ask once matt stands up from his spot on the couch.

"yeah, i'll be right back." he quickly mumbles and rushes off to his bedroom. i turn my attention back to the movie, barely picking up on the plot. matt soon returns in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips and the infamous cropped pink t-shirt.

as he makes his way over to the couch, i can't help but notice the lack of a waistband from his boxers. my eyes slowly travel down and it becomes very obvious why the waistband is missing; no underwear.

i quickly shift my gaze back to the tv, watching the main character move around aimlessly through her house. my mind melts away from the movie when i feel a dip in the couch, much closer than earlier.

"alright, babe. don't hog the blanket." matt jokes, pulling the small throw blanket closer and tossing it over his legs. the 'innocent' pet name is nothing new and neither is the effect it has on me. i subtly smush my thighs together and give some slack to the blanket.

15 minutes. 15 absolute agonizing minutes go by before i shift in my seat, somewhat forgetting the arousal between my thighs. matt slings an arm over my shoulders and i feel my breath hitch in my throat.

sitting close on the couch, sharing a bed (but keeping our distance), locking arms in a crowded place; all of this is normal for us. normal for best friends. as innocent as it seems, this is uncharted territory. i'm not even sure where to go from here so i slowly lower my head onto him, resting on his collarbone.

"y/n." matt whispers and i hum in response. i wait for a moment, only silence following his initial speech. right as i'm about to speak, he clears his throat, obviously contemplating his next words. "now that the camera's off, can i know who your crush is?"

i laugh softly and bring a hand up to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose as i think. not much thought needs to be put into who my crush is. i just need to tread lightly. i want to have matt in my life in whatever way he'll allow. telling him the truth about my feelings could easily ruin that.

"c'mon, i thought friends were supposed to tell each other everything." he jokes, reaching his hand down and lightly tickling my side.

"it's not really - it's not a big deal." i respond, hoping that will satisfy him. of course, it doesn't.

"is he your age?" matt presses. i purse my lips and keep my eyes trained on the tv.

"he's like a year older." i answer with a shrug, doing my best to keep my response as nonchalant as possible. matt lets out a low chuckle, shifting slightly.

"okay... do we know him?" he asks. i know who 'we' is. he wants to know if i've mentioned this crush to his brothers, possibly brought him around without matt knowing.

"yeah." i respond softly. he clears his throat once again, but this one sounds more forced.

he knows. he knows and he's uncomfortable. why didn't i just lie? why didn't i just avoid the question completely in the video? of course, he's uncomfortable. i'm supposed to be his best friend, but i've secretly been thinking of something more. why did i-

"is he - um - like, in the house?" matt's question pulls me out of my thoughts then immediately throws me back into them. i start to lift my head off of him, trying to create some distance between us, but his arms tighten around me. they squeeze around my waist and hold me close to him.

i try to answer his question, but i feel like all the moisture has left my mouth, making it impossible for any words to form. i settle on a soft nod.

my heart feels like it's about to beat straight up my chest and out of my throat. "y/n." matt says, his voice slightly more serious than before.

i don't move. i'm practically paralyzed in the realization that he definitely knows. my breathing is sharp, shallow.

"y/n/n." the nickname gives a slight ease to the conversation. i slowly lift my head to look up at him. before i can fully move, i feel his slender fingers rest under my chin to pull my face closer to his.

his face is so close to mine, our noses brush together slightly. my eyes lift to meet his and we're frozen like this for moment. a moment trapped in time. it's intense, yet comfortable. my brain turns to mush and the words fall out of my mouth before i can even register what i'm saying.

"he's right in front of me."

his soft lips are a stark contrast in the harshnesses he pushes them against mine. this is all i've wanted for the past month. this is all i've dreamt of and it's even better than i imagined.

his lips mold perfectly to mine as if they were made for this, made for this moment. his hand moves down from my chin, wrapping around the back of my neck. i quickly bring my hands up, letting one rest comfortably on his chest while the other reaches up to caress his cheek.

he deepens the kiss, pulling me impossibly close and swiping his tongue over my bottom lip. i shift once again in my seat, pulling my knees up and leaning on them. his tongue explores my mouth as he quickly pulls me into his lap. i swing one leg over to straddle his lap.

"i need you." he murmurs against my mouth before moving his attention to my neck. his soft lips quickly find the sweet spot just under my ear and nip at it gently. "i've needed you for so long." he whispers.

"matt..." i whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. he hums against my neck, hand traveling down and sliding under my shirt. his fingertips brush over my sensitive nipple and i can feel a smirk growing his face. he cups my breast, slowly and gently massaging it.

"did you expect this to happen or am i just that lucky?" matt chuckles and moves his mouth back to mine, swallowing the soft moans i left slip out.

i groan softly when his hand suddenly leaves my skin. he grips the hem of my shirt and gives it a soft tug, silently asking for permission. i quickly pull the shirt off of me and watch as his eyes travel over my torso, growing darker. the sudden realization hits me that my best friend is staring at my bare chest and i move closer to him, attempting to cover myself. his hands hold firm on my waist.

"you're perfect..." he mumbles, looking into my eyes with an expression i've never seen from him. i scoff, rolling my eyes and shifting my gaze away from him. "y/n." one hand reaches up to gently grab my chin, turning my attention back to his face.

just as he's about to speak, we hear the sound of a door opening upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps. our eyes widen and i throw myself off of him. he quickly moves the blanket over my body and i curl up into a ball, snuggling into his side.

just as chris rounds the corner, my eyes land on my shirt that was carelessly thrown to the floor. shit. "y/n, if you drank the last pepsi 'm gonna-" he freezes, staring at us for a moment. i quickly move my eyes to the tv, pretending to be interested in the movie. after sitting in silence for what feels like an eternity, chris squeals and runs back to the stairs. "nick!" he shrieks and i feel like my face is on fire.

"fuck, here we go." matt groans, running his fingers through his hair. chris makes it about halfway up the stairs before he turns around and peeks over the ledge of the wall.

"also, on the couch? you have a bed, matt!" chris exclaims, grinning widely despite him trying to act disgusted.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

my head is thrown back against the arm of the couch as i bite my lip, trying my best to conceal my moans. matt's fingers pump in and out of me quickly, curling to hit just the right spot. while his fingers work to bring me closer to climax, his mouth is moving back and forth between each of my nipples, softly nipping at the sensitive buds.

he was so quick with his movements once chris disappeared upstairs that i was barely able to register what was happening. now here i am, completely bare in front of matt as he pushes his fingers into me.

"fuck, matt!" i exclaim quietly, rushing my fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. he moans against my skin and i feel myself clinching around his fingers tighter.

the burning in my core is building, growing stronger and stronger. my walls flutter around his digits and i can feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head. i feel like i'm floating, preparing to release what's been building in my stomach. i'm fully prepared to let go when i suddenly feel empty, his fingers pulling out of me and dripping my arousal onto the couch.

before i can protest, matt shifts, pulling me into him with his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. he quickly lifts me off the couch and i instinctively wrap my legs around him, tucking my head down and leaving hungry kisses up and down his neck.

he rushes us over to his room, closing the door with a swift kick and tossing me onto the bed. he quickly removes his shirt and throws it across the room, groaning as he stares down at my leaking cunt. he reaches for the waistline of his sweatpants, but i quickly sit up and swat his hands away.

he stands at the foot of the bed while i reposition myself, sitting on my knees and leaning back on my heels. i swiftly pull his pants down and his thick cock is released, springing up towards my lips. before his pants can hit the floor, i lunge forward, wrapping a hand around the base and sucking his tip into my mouth.

"fuck, y/n..." he moans, staring down at me as i sink my mouth further down. i'm intimidated by his size, but the urge to please him and feel him as much as i can overpowers the intimidation.

i hold him in my mouth for moment, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. i maintain eye contact as i slowly pull his length out of my mouth, sticking my tongue out farther to tease the underside of his cock. quickly, i push him back into my mouth, bobbing my head quickly and using my hand to pump what i can't fit.

my free hand reaches up and grips onto his thigh to keep myself stable. matts grunts and moans fill the room, causing my wetness to grow. i can feel my arousal dripping down my thighs as matts hands move to my shoulders and he lightly shoves me off of his throbbing dick.

"i need to fuck you. right now." he admits, kicking off the sweats that were just pooled around his feet. "lay back, sweetheart." he instructs and i immediately obey, laying back on the bed and letting my head rest against the pile of pillows.

he climbs on top of me and uses a knee to gently nudge my thighs. i spread my legs, allowing him to slot his body between them. the tip of his cock brushes against my neglected clit and i can't contain the moan that escapes me.

"you have to be quiet, babe." matt chuckles, reaching between us to position himself at my entrance, dragging his tip around it. i giggle softly and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

"matt, i think they already know what's happen - fuck!" i interrupt myself with a shriek as he roughly pushes his thick cock into me. before i can make another sound, his hand travels up my body and clasps over my mouth. he stays still for a moment before slowly pulling out and slamming back into me.

he lowers his head and grazes his teeth over my earlobe. "i don't want anyone else hearing these pretty sounds. this is only for me." he whispers as pistons in and out of me.

my moans are muffled by his hand and he quickly moves it, shoving his ring and middle finger into my mouth. without a second thought, i wrap my lips around his slender fingers, tasting the residue of myself on them from earlier.

"fuck - feel s'good." he grunts lowly, lifting his head to rest against mine, our sweaty foreheads connected as he stares into my eyes. his eyelids are low and i can feel mine slowly closing, succumbing to the pleasure. "keep 'em open. i need - shit - need to see you."

i lazily open my eyes and stare into his, drowning in the feeling of his cock pushing into me with a rapid pace. his tip brushes my gummy, sweet spot and my lips fall away from his fingers, letting a moan fall past my lips.

reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of my mouth and loosely wraps them around my neck. "m-matt..." i whimper, feeling my pussy pulse around him.

"give it to me, pretty girl. fuck - make a mess all over me." he grunts, his thrusts losing rhythm and stuttering. "gonna stay quiet f' me?" he asks breathlessly.

i shake my head rapidly, knowing the pleasure is too much for me to be quiet. a smirk slowly creeps up his face, a sinister look appearing in his eyes. he pulls out quickly and i subconsciously push my hips down, searching for the feeling that was just ripped away from me.

he roughly grips the back of my thigh, pushing it up and leaning over me once again. my leg dangles over his shoulder as he quickly pushes back into me. he instantly resumes his pace, hitting a new, deeper spot inside of me.

"fuck!" i exclaim, throwing my head further into his pillows. he props himself up on his forearm, his other arm snaking between us. i feel his hand pressing against my abdomen, creating a brand new sensation for me. i'm a blabbering, whimpering mess beneath him as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. that familiar burning sensation makes another appearance and i can't hold back anymore.

he leans in closer, whispering obscene things to me, but i can’t concentrate on his words. the only thing i’m able to focus on is the knot in my stomach completely unraveling.

“matt, oh-“ his lips connect to mine, cutting me off. he grunts against my lips and i can feel his cock twitching inside of me. he chases his high as he pushes me further and further. i’m slightly overstimulated, but i don’t care.

“fuck, fuck.” he mutters against my lips before stilling inside of me. i can feel him filling me up, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he softly drops my leg.

we lay there in a comfortable silence for a minute, his head resting in my neck and my fingers raking softly through his hair. once we’ve both caught our breath, he shifts slightly, the movement of his now soft cock inside me causes me to wince.

“‘m sorry, i couldn’t even think straight. i should’ve pulled out.” he huffs, slowly pulling out. he sits up and i can see something flash in his eyes as he sees his cum slowly leaking out of me.

“it’s okay, matt.” i giggle. “i’m on the pill.”

“okay, good because i definitely need to see this again.” he says calmly, reaching down and pushing his release back into my pussy. i whine at the feeling, my face scrunching in discomfort.

“shit, sorry.” he whispers before quickly moving off the bed and putting his sweatpants back on. he quickly shuffles out of the room and i lay there staring at the ceiling. i can’t believe what just happened. obviously, i’m happy about what happened, but now we have to figure out what the hell this is. are we just friends who occasionally fuck? does he want to actually date me? will this never happen again? pushed to the back of our minds, pretending it never even happened.

i’m pulled from my thoughts when i feel matt softly brushing a towel against my core, cleaning me up. when he’s done he tosses the towel in his laundry basket and climbs on the bed.

“you can wear this if you want. just thought it’d be comfortable. it’s my favorite sleep shirt so…” matt says, holding a black t shirt out to me. i sit up and take it from him, giving a quiet ‘thanks’ with a soft smile. i slip the shirt on and sit back against the headboard.

when i turn to look at matt i see that he’s already looking at me, eyes soft and a small smile on his face. “what?” i ask shyly.

“you’re so beautiful.” he responds, voice barely above a whisper. i can feel myself blush and i look away, staring at nothing in particular. “stop doing that.” he says as he grabs my hand.

“i’m not doing anything!” i defend with a giggle. he pulls me closer and reaches down to grab his blanket, pulling it over us. he shuffles a bit, laying down comfortably. he drops my hand and holds his arm out, sending a silent invitation for me to join him.

after settling next to him and laying my head on his shoulder, he speaks up. “i’m not a liar.” he says. i give him a confused look and he turns his head towards me. “when i compliment you, it’s always the truth. you really are beautiful.”

i can’t stop myself from smiling and i move a hand up to rest on his cheek. i pull him in and kiss him softly. this kiss is probably the softest one that we’ve shared at this point and i can feel every emotion, every unspoken secret between us.

just as i pull away, ready to say something, the door opens quickly. matt and i snap our heads to the doorway and see nick and chris with smug smiles.

“awww! what a cute couple!” chris squeals, clinging onto nicks shoulders. nick shrugs him off and i feel matt snatch a pillow from behind us, throwing it at the boys.

“get the fuck out!” matt yells while i hide my face in his chest, trying my best to conceal my laughter.

[alren-ki]

Hmm. That sure is brains. Don't like em but they sure are fucking exist

[virx-cos]

i want to eat a chao so bad.

just look at them.

they’re so edible.

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

[augustinewrites]

“oh, you poor thing…” you murmur, stroking megumi’s hair. he’d been caught in the rain during the walk home yesterday, and had come down with a bit of a cold. the seven year old is curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting in your lap.

you glare at satoru when he scoffs from his end of the couch, the tip of his nose rosy and dripping with snot. “i was caught in the rain too, you know.”

“take some nyquil.”

you don’t even bother to spare his suffering a glance.

“can i have hot chocolate?” the little brat asks, his request followed by a weak cough. “my throat hurts.”

it’s almost ten in the evening, and the kid’s already brushed his teeth. there’s no way you’d say yes—

“of course! i’ll make some for your sister too.”

satoru’s mouth falls open - because he can’t breathe through his nose and because he’s shocked. “can i have some too?”

“i’ll make you tea with lemon and ginger,” you reply, carefully adjusting megumi on the couch as you get up. you even steal his blanket, draping it over the kid’s curled up form.

megumi peeks one eye open as soon as you leave, and satoru swears the smirk that follows is directed at him.

people have told him that kids are supposed to be gifts. but later - when he’s watching a lame documentary and choking down some bitter lemon ginger tea as megumi is spoiled with sips of chocolately heaven - he thinks they must mean gifts from hell.

_____

your lips are brushing over satoru’s collarbone when he wonders if he’d locked the bedroom door.

but then you bite and all his concerns go out the window.

your breath is hot against his skin, picking up when his hands grip your waist. chests rising and falling, the two of you love in sync. slow, deep kisses are exchanged in time with gentle grinds—

“i’m hungry.”

it makes satoru startle, banging his head against the headboard as you sit up, stuttering as you both turn to face the doorway.

“megumi,” you gasp. “how long have you been standing there?”

the blush colouring his cheeks is answer enough.

“i’ll make you something to eat,” you offer, leaving your boyfriend with a very unfortunate situation as you climb off his lap, shooting an apologetic look over your shoulder as you herd megumi out of the room.

satoru swears the kid shoots him a smug grin over his shoulder.

this, he thinks glumly as he heads to the bathroom to try and calm himself down. this is why he needs to stop doing nice things.

_____

exhausted can’t even begin to describe the way satoru feels after a long day of bugging nanami and exorcising curses.

he’s practically dragging his body through the apartment towards the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to strip out of his uniform and fall into bed next to you.

but he can’t, because the first thing he sees when he opens the bedroom door is megumi hogging his side of the bed.

you press your index finger to your lips as soon as satoru opens his mouth to protest. “tsumiki’s at a sleepover,” you explain.

“so? i’ll carry him back to his room—”

you make a noise if protest, waving his hands away as you whisper, “it’s his first night here without her.”

hands on his hips, satoru examines the very little free space left on the bed. “so that means you’d let me sleep on the couch?”

he doesn’t like sleeping alone. hasn’t liked it ever since you’d moved in and he’d decided he liked waking to the warmth of your body next to his.

“well, you could sleep in megumi’s bed.”

“or you could wake him up,” he counters loudly on purpose, earning a shush and a glare from you in answer.

“this is a good thing,” you insist once you’ve ensured the kid’s still asleep. “it means he trusts us!”

“but i’m tired,” he whines, even stamping his foot a little for emphasis. “i wanna cuddle with you.”

“fine,” you relent with a little sigh. “but you have to wake him.”

gleefully, he goes to shake the kid awake. he’s about to do it, but all it takes is one look at the peaceful look settled over that little face. over the year he’d gotten to know megumi, he’s only ever worn a scowl, or a look of general boredom. so to see him like this, finally settled into the household…

it’s enough to make the sorcerer smile, even as he sets up the makeshift bed of blankets on the bedroom floor.

_____

“sharing is caring,” satoru proposes the next afternoon at the dinner table. it’s just him and megumi right now, as you’d just left to visit shoko. “so you can cuddle with her on the couch, but the bedroom is all me, got it?”

megumi frowns, staring at the list (can he even read yet? gojo has no idea) “but what about movie night?”

“fine, but only for a little bit. after that she’s all mine.”

he takes the kids shrug as agreement and moves on.

“knocking,” he starts with the utmost seriousness. “is a very important thing to do when any door is closed. and next time tsumiki is out, you’re the one sleeping on the floor.”

(they both know that’s not going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to try.)

once the terms of their deal are finalized, they shake on it.

“so we’ve come to an understanding, good. because i’d rather have you as my bro than my foe,” he says, dragging the edge of his thumbnail across his throat for emphasis.

megumi rolls his eyes before sauntering off to his bedroom, and satoru sighs, letting his forehead hit the tabletop with a dull thud.

he’d fought off suitors vying for your attention before, but never one as tough to beat as this one.

[bunny-jpeg]

love is a kick to the stomach

max verstappen - sequel to: lust is a loaded hand gun

tags: smut/fluff, pregnancy & kids, falling in love, dad!max, body worship, tenderness, plot, cowgirl position

a/n: this was made possible by the support of over a dozen people asking for a sequel! i hope you enjoy it <3

"are you sure you're going to be fine on your own?" your former teammate charles asked as he helped you pack the last of your suitcases. your apartment in monaco was bare, and for good reason, you were going home.

you replied with a shrug, "i'll be fine. i mean if i could sustain a driving career for as long as i did. i can handle raising a baby." you rubbed your lower back a little bit.

charles said,"i guess so, you know, monaco isn't a terrible place to raise a child." he gestured to himself with raised eyebrows.

"as much as i'd love to." you said, "i think people will start to raise eyebrows when they see max's look-alike running around. plus, i guess it's a way to get away from it. something simpler for my kid."

you hadn't spoken to the father of your son, max didn't know you were pregnant. and it was the best for everyone if he never knew that you had a child with him.

you remember the first time you held nicolas in your arms, it took you close to ten hours for you to deliver him. you had to say, the aches and pains of racing were nothing compared to the rising anxiety and pain of delivering a child. didn't help he was stubborn like this father. you tried not to think about max too much during the moments of lessened pain. part of you wanted him there, while you were determined to raise your child alone. the moments of weakness you felt during delivery made you want to hastily unblock max's number and call him before the next contractions came.

"okay, okay. just you and me, baby, just you and me." you told yourself as you laid in the hospital bed with your belly swollen from the months of carrying your son. you hissed through your teeth as another contraction hit.

in the end, you had nicolas. or nico as you called him. tired, over-heated as you pushed out your baby. the nurse told you it was a boy. wrapped in a blanket as he was placed on your chest. you could only describe it as maternal warmth as you cried. this was your baby. your little nico. "congratulations." the nurse told you as you held onto him gently. when you gave birth to your son, max was in monaco streaming with the rest of the redline team. fully unaware that you just had his child.

you lived a quiet life after that, but sometimes you could still feel the rumble of the track in your soul. it pulled you in, there was no reason for it to come back. there was no way you could, nico needed his mother and you made the choice to start a family of your own.

"nico!" you giggled towards your toddler, nico was now close to three years old! you picked him up from his spot at the coffee table, surrounded by papers and markers. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "remember uncle charlie?" you swayed a little with the child in your arms.

the little boy nodded, "uh-huh." charles sent you and nico christmas presents every year. he even visited once or twice during summer break and spent a week with the two of you, he loved the time away from the hustle and bustle of racing. nico knew uncle charlie mostly because of leo, you had to teach him how to be gentle with the dog.

"well, he is inviting us somewhere. we're going to see him race, just like what mama used to do." it was the pre-season testing, it would be nice to see everyone. see how things changed in the three years since you left, "i know you've been asking about the cars." you smiled at the little boy.

nico really was the son of two racers, even now he was colouring pages of cars and he learned some of his colours from the cars in your neighbourhood. his expression light up, "the cars?"

you chuckled and said, "yes! we'll see the cars go really fast." it felt somewhat silly to say that raising a child felt more fulfilling than any of the titles you won.

it was almost more challenging with more rewards. driving was intense and lit an inferno in your stomach. but, you were constantly swarmed by the media with people yelling in your ear at all times. you were both hated and loved by the press, the organization and the fans. and while parenthood was harder in a lot of ways, it was nice. it was quieter. you saw friends, you found interest in painting, you read all the books you bought on your travels as a racer. the best part about having a kid was having a travel buddy. you weren't your stats or your trophies, you were just you.

but driving was a drug, and you also wanted to see the cars go very fast. so within a couple of weeks you were on the track for the pre-season.

"and that nico, is a racing car." you pointed towards the red ferrari car. a similar one to the one you drove. and you watched your young son light up the way you did all those years prior.

-

you knew you were going to see max. it was stupid to think that you could not see him. he had won the previous year's wdc, he was everywhere. so while you spoke to lewis and charles, you caught sight of him. and he caught sight of the toddler in your arms.

charles looked over to where your gaze was and said, "oh shit." then tried to shift over to sort of usher you and nico away from the gaze of max. but you reached out and touched your former teammates shoulder.

"it's fine..." you assured him. the past year, as it felt like nico was growing so much everyday. the feelings about max had resurfaced. while you believed that you and your network of friends and family could raise nico just fine. max didn't know that nico existed. a night of passion was just that in max's mind.

you shifted your toddler in your arms and looked over to max. you smiled and gave him a small wave. and you could see the expression cross max's face.

nico let go of the front of your shirt and made child's grabby-hands towards the man. and max took a bold step forward, and then another, and then another before he was crowded in your space. an expression across his face as he looked down at you and nico.

"hey." you said.

"hi." he replied. he raised his hand for a moment, but stopped himself. he swallowed and asked, "who is this?"

you looked down at the boy who was holding onto your shirt once more. you smiled at max, "nicolas. but everyone calls him nico. he's my son."

our son.

max swallowed and looked at the boy. he patted him on the top of the head and smiled, "well, hello nico. your mama was an amazing driver." he looked at you once more before you were pulled away by charles to see the rest of the ferrari team. max watched you walk away, just as he did all those years prior.

-

"can i watch nico?" charles asked while

"i can watch him just fine. i've been doing it for three years." you chuckled as you grabbed a chip from the bag and ate it.

charles crossed his arms and looked at you, "when was the last time you had a break? plus me and alexandra are thinking about, maybe, having a child once my career winds down." he smiled a little, "want to make sure that i can handle a three year old."

you looked to your son on the carpeted floor playing with the duplo blocks that you had brought with you. you then looked to charles and asked, "so you're probably assuming that if you can handle the son of me and him, you can handle your own child?"

charles nodded, "the child of ferrari's princess and mad max. must be a handful." he laughed a little.

"he's not the son of satan, charles." you playfully shoved your former teammate. and he shrugged. you were thankful in a way that you didn't go with charles' plan for him to father your child. you felt like that would've been more complicated than what you had now, since you liked charles' current partner.

"take the night off or at least a few hours. go do something for yourself." charles gave you a sympathetic glance. and you had no choice to concede.

he was right, since nico's birth you had no time for yourself unless he was asleep. but usually you fell asleep too. in the end you dressed nicely, in a pencil skirt and a white blouse. you had your purse on hand and told charles to text you if there were any issues. and you made nico promise you to be good. you kissed the boy's cheek before you headed out.

you ended up at a bar. it wasn't busy and you blended in with the other patrons. the press didn't bother you too much, you had been out of the spotlight for long that it was mostly making the public aware that you still existed and now you had a kid.

"well, well, well." a man's voice caught your attention. you looked up from your phone to see max by your table, "has ferrari's princess finally come back to her castle."

you swallowed, "hi, max."

"where's the little one?"

"with charles tonight."

max nodded, "i was going to make a joke about him being the father... but i know that's not true." he sat down across from you at the table. he rested his forearms on the table, his watch shined in the low light of the bar, "what happened?"

"nothing happened. i just retired."

"with my son... a son i knew nothing about." his voice was low, "why didn't you tell me? do you think so low of me i wouldn't have tried to help? you ran off back home and blocked me..." there was a look in his eyes.

"i didn't want to burden the world champion." you lied as you took a sip of your stiff drink. you felt tension in your shoulders as you took a sip. your heart rattled in your chest, "i didn't expect you to do anything. i didn't need you to."

max reached across the small table and took a hold of your wrist to bring your closer. then he locked his fingers with yours. he said, "maybe i wanted to... did you never think i wanted to be a father?"

you swallowed, "no." you assumed he didn't. not after everything, you heard enough of his father's berating in your karting career. the angry dutch words followed by insults in english so everyone knew what was being said. and that apprently only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. you thought max was a good fit because he would be so disinterested in being a parent. but as he looked at you, hand in yours. you realized you made a grave error. you said, "being a parent isn't easy."

max chuckled, "i know. i'm not stupid. i thought about that night we shared, it comes back to me. i've never wanted someone the way i wanted you. and to know you carried my child, it only pulls me in more."

you took another sip of your drink with your free hand and said, "and what are you going to do about it, verstappen?" you may be a mother now, but you were ferrari's princess, the temptress on wheels. you'd still go toe-to-toe with any man.

max simply smiled.

-

you ended up in max's hotel room. his hands on you like they were all those years ago. he touched you the way a lover would as the two of you passionately made out. you moaned against his lips and you held onto his strong shoulders.

"i thought about you every day of your retirement. i wanted to know what happened. i thought you were sick." he kissed along your neck, his hands at your waist.

"i mean, i did have quite the stomach bug. took ten hours to get him out." you moaned a little bit as his lips grazed over your pulse point. you could feel a surge of pleasure through you. you had been with anyone intimately since max. you didn't have time for dates let alone hook-ups.

"i should've been there. i would've been there in a heartbeat. you, me, nico... a family." he said as he looked to you once more and you toyed with the material of his shirt, "i always had a fondness for you. you let nothing stop you."

you smiled, "i always thought you wanted a model... not a driver."

he pressed his chest against yours and looked into your eyes, "maybe in another time. i wish i could've seen you pregnant." he swallowed as his hands touched your breasts.

you chuckled lowly, "someone wanted a milf?"

he shook his head as he pressed his forehead to yours, "no, no. i wanted to see your body change from what we made. the child we made together."

"but racing..."

he groaned, "fuck it. choose between another trophy taking up space in my apartment... or a home with you and nico. such a hard choice, don't you think?" he chuckled as he held you so close to him. he groped your breasts, "a man who finds more fulfillment in pieces of plastic and metal than having a home to go to is a stupid man."

you chuckled, "i guess i didn't want to be your wag either."

he shook his head, "i don't think you can be a wag if you played the sport. if you are worried about there being expectations placed on you, then don't worry. if you can't drive, then i'll drive twice as hard for us. any ten second gap i have will be twenty seconds, because i know you only expect the best."

you felt warmth in your cheeks. and eventually he led you to the bedroom. you ended up on the bed with max undoing your button up. you giggled, "ah, does someone like mothers?"

he groaned with his nose against your heated skin, "only when they had my kid... nico looked exactly like me." he said as he got the button up off your shoulder.

you moaned, but then yelped as he pushed you back onto the bed. you looked up at him, "i'm on birth control." you licked your lips as you got out of your bra and max took off his t-shirt, "fuck, now i remember why i wanted to have a baby with you."

he put his hands on his hips and smiled. tiny waist, broad shoulders. a certain strength to him, but he didn't look like a dehydrated mess. he was strong in a way that excited you, but you also knew that he loved a good meal. long before he gorged himself on your cunt, he happily ate the meals you cooked. you remember he even said, "you'd make a great wife." which honestly sowed the seed that led to nico.

the night of passion that led to the making of your son. you could feel max's eyes wander across your body and he licked his lips. he said, "you look good. bit more curves than when we last were like this."

"yeah, i had an eight pound baby." you chuckled as you got the rest of your clothes off. max's hungry gaze lingered, "i got a few more curves that a track as carry him for nine months, you know he was three days overdue."

"stubborn." max laughed as he unzipped his jeans, "just like his mama."

you narrowed your eyes, "no, just like his old man." and max was all over you. the kissed became hungry and needy. neither of you had been intimate with another person since the night you made nico. three years ago. you were busy with a baby while max couldn't get you out of his head. he tried to find another woman, he tried to be close to someone. but you always pulled in the back of his mind.

both of you were into the hotel room and max kissed at your breasts. your breasts were roughly average size before you got pregnant. the training and weight guidelines for racing prevented you from having a big chest. but you went up at least a cup and a half during your pregnancy. and max loved kissing the heated skin.

"fuck." you gasped. both naked on the bed, moved against one another. it was like being in a familiar place. you knew max's body just as you did all those years ago. you kissed him and ended up straddled max's waist.

he was up against the pillows and your knees on either side of him. your hands roamed his chest and he shuddered. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, "please, fuck. please, give me a chance. give me a chance to be there for you and nico.."

you swallowed, you never expected that from max. a man on the top like that wouldn't easily quiver at the aspect of being a father. but max wanted it. he wanted the family. he wanted a home. you sighed to yourself, you guessed an apartment full of trophies wasn't enough.

you put a hand on his chest before you sank on his cock, "max. if nico decided not to peruse racing.... would you still love him?" that was a conversation you had to have with yourself. you loved racing, that was your passion for years. but you promised yourself to never be the parent that you saw early in your career. twisting their children to make them conform to the parent's standards. to force them into racing.

he said, those blue eyes gazed up at you, "if nico wanted to race. i'm behind him a hundred percent. if it doesn't, nothing changes... he is still my son. i'm behind him through everything."

you leaned down to kiss max on the lips, "fuck, max." you sank down onto his cock and continued to kiss him. you splayed your hands across his broad chest and continued to move against him.

"shit." he shuddered. he felt a certain euphoria that left him needy for more. never had he had soemthing like this. not since the last time he had you. it was a amazing. to have you so close once more. he wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you. the kisses shared between you two were hot and heavy, it left him feeling tense in a good way. to have you on top of him, close to him was a feeling he wished he could never forget.

even after three years you still occupied his mind in ways that left him shuddering against you. after three years, after all this time, he still wanted to map your body with his tongue. even the changes post-pregnancy. he held onto you and kissed at your heated skin. he wished he was there, seeing the progress of you carrying nico. to be a father. he moved against you, he held you. he loved you, but he had been holding onto that love for some time. unable to properly display it, and to find out you had a child with him only fueled the passion for you. the two of you moved against one another, you both felt the intense pleasure from the heated movements against one another.

this was how you should've been a long time ago. if max had known you wanted a baby, he would've happily had one with you. but he should've been there for every moment of it. even if you couldn't race because of the pregnancy, max would kiss every winning trophy in your honor, he'd race for both of you. and then come to the paddock with you and nico, a family of three. a family he always wanted.

he wanted to kiss you in front of the cameras. even if you were retired, he wanted to make you feel that every winning was for both of you. he kissed at you heated skin and you moaned, he felt the warmth of love in his gut. you two should've been married by now, a house somewhere quiet. it didn't even have to be in monaco. max would happily pack up his racing sim gear and his cats, and move to anywhere you desired. he hoped that you two could be a family.

to come home after a triple header and see you and nico. the boy looked so much like him. those round cheeks, those wide eyes. the excitement on the track and his need to be close to his mother (you). it screamed a young max, but max wanted to be a better father. he wanted to be present, he wanted to be there for his son.

he groaned, "please, please. let me into your little family." he kissed as your larger breasts and moved against you. the pleasure was deep inside of him. to have you once more felt like a dream.

you held onto his short hair for a moment, you groaned a little bit as you felt the immense heat between you two. you leaned down and kissed him on the head with such tenderness. this wasn't the kind of sex you had all that time ago, this was something more softer. more gentle. less like a means to an end, and more like you two were becoming familiar with each other's bodies again.

"you look perfect," he said lowly, "i'm surprised you hadn't picked uo a husband after all the time." he held on a little tighter and worked your body against him. the pleasure shot through the both of you which only spurred you on the move faster.

your bucked your hips against his, you felt the inferno in your belly as you held his face and kissed him once more. if he wanted to be in nico's life then you'd allow it. you'd let max be involved, be the father he wanted to be. you thought his trophies were more important, but seeing him, his eagerness to be in nico's life made you realize that he wanted a family, a home. you kissed him once more as the two of you thrusted against one another.

you knew racing would always pull you back in eventually. it had that effect on people. it was infectious, even tucked away in your domestic life. you still sat on the couch with your rambunctious toddler and watched the races at odd hours.

"why do you want a life with me and nico, you could have any-"

"i don't want to hear it. nico deserves a father and you deserve a loving partner... hell, maybe even a husband." he said with total conviction as he moved against you. the pleasure felt like it was going to boil over soon.

you moved against him, eagerness in your movements. you couldn't think of anymore things to prevent max from being part of your family. your movements staggered and you felt the pleasure bloom into something more. you hissed, "fuck," while you moved against him. you felt the inferno in your soul, the need for him in ways you didn't need any other man.

this was the father of your son, and you carried feelings for him just as you carried nico. the combination of you two, the affection you had for one another in a brief moment. it was something you wanted to expand on. you wanted to love max verstappen.

you held onto the father of your child. you came around his cock and arched your back. you felt the fury of lust through your body as you moved against him. you laid a heavy kiss on his lips as your pussy clenched around his cock, "fuck." you said, words muffled by the kiss. max wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you further. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest areas and it made you toes curl through climax.

he groaned into the kiss and continued to move against you. a few more heavy strokes and he finished inside of you. he practically melted against you and you smiled against his lips with affection. his brain felt swamped with emotion as he said, "i love you."

and without thinking you replied, "i love you too, max." then kissed him once more with total affection for one another.

max swallowed as he held you as you slowed your pace to a stop. he craned his neck to press his cheek against your soft stomach, "don't leave again... please."

"max." you panted and combed your fingers through his hair. he held onto you tighter as if you were going to slip away.

he said, in a tone you never thought you could hear from a world champion, "don't.. don't leave." this was supposed to be simple. max was a means to a child, but he wanted to be in nico's life. he wanted to be a father.

you wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your abdomen. you exhaled deeply and said, "i don't want to pressure you into being a father... if you're going to be in his life, you're going all in. he needs stability."

max lifted his head to look at you. those blue eyes dazzled in the low light of his hotel room. he held onto you a little tighter, not enough to bruise however. he said, "i'm all in. you, me, and nico." like a promise.

maybe it was the post-orgasm hormones or maybe because you became a tad more in touch with your emotions after having a child. but when max said that, you cried.

-

"go nico! go, go!!!" you shouted as your nine year old sailed past the finish line in first place and you broke into a grin. your husband wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a kiss. you laughed into the kiss and said to your husband, "oh man. ow, ow. okay, okay!" you looked down at your swollen middle, "someone isn't happy about the excitement."

"sorry there, little one." max's hand rubbed your swollen middle. his wedding band gleamed in the afternoon light. you were welcoming a son in four months and could already feel the commotion of racing.

you smiled at max for a moment before your son got out of the cart and you were moving as fast as you could to greet him. with his helmet off, you cupped your son's chubby cheeks. he was looking more like max every day, but smashed records the way you did.

you were soon a family of four. you didn't live in your home country and max had moved away from monaco when you got married. max was a good father, as he picked up nico with ease.

"you did amazing, nico. good job!" he beamed at the little boy and the boy beamed back at him. you knew that people shouldn't have children to heal a part of themselves. you learned that when you were pregnant the first time. but when max gave praise to your son, he was giving the young boy the support he never got. that if nico was going to eventually end up in formula one, it wasn't going to be the way that max was brought up.

he'd do it right.

stern when he needed to be. you'd both push nico to be the best, but also give him the love a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked boy needed. and as you leaned down as best as you could to kiss your son on the cheek. you felt like a family. it felt like home.

you were confident that you could've raised both nico and your future son by yourself. but it was an adventure you'd rather share with max. <3

[allpiesforourown]

I have such intense feelings for your bingyuan roommate au, it’s unreal. Binghe would be the BIGGEST green tea bitch/pick me girl but only towards sy, no one else. encountering lbh in the wild first and then experiencing him next to sy would be a fever dream of epic proportions. actual dozens of women would want to behead him and rip out his guts. bc lbh would ditch them on their birthday, an actual medical emergency, or anything critical at all just bc sy vaguely implied he was hungry (lbh now HAS to cook for him, it is not a want, it is a NEED)

And sy would be worse then evvvver, lol. “That’s my little didi binghe, he’s so sweet and sensitive, girls are always breaking his heart :((( If I were his girlfriend I’d get married to him next week and bounce on him silly style. Too bad no one will ever appreciate binghe like I do :(((((” and it is only after MANY of those thoughts that he realizes that he might not feel all that brotherly towards lbh

on a hornier note, I’m at a toss up between thinking that lbh would bring his hookups/girlfriends back to his and sy’s home and fucking them there (bc in lbh’s mind he can’t cum right without the reminder of his gege… and what if gege walked in 🤤… maybe lbh can get him to join…) or him absolutely refusing to let any of them so much as glance at his gege (no one should look at sy except him)

EXACTLY EXACTLY EXACTLY you get it anon.

It's literally like

Woman: let's have a threesome with your friend

Binghe: the idea sounds so appealing but I don't want some stranger getting his hands on him! I don't want to share him with someone who doesn't show him the love he needs. I'm the only one who knows him well enough to be in a threesome with shen yuan

Woman: thats sex. You're just describing regular two people sex. You want to fuck your best friend.

In my head for this au I imagine them as long time friends.. shen yuan found binghe getting bullied at a park or something when they were kids and told his bullies to fuck off. Then he listened to binghe cry about how he's so worried about his sick mom being overworked and begged his parents to hire binghes mom. With way better pay, hours, and work environment, her health improved a lot and she's good friends with shen yuans parents.

Binghe tells himself he acts like shen yuans guard dog because he'll always be grateful for what he's done for his family, but really, he fell in love with his Yuan ge at first sight the second he saw a boy standing up for him instead of ignoring his bullying.

Someone: say something nice about your best friend

Binghe: oh I have so much to say! He's so sweet and intelligent and adorably nerdy ! He saved me and my mom and-

Someone: say something nice about your girlfriend

Binghe: um..... uh ...... well.... sometimes she... hmm......

The poor women he dates. They'd go through SO much suffering trying to "fix" him and then when they finally give up after going through hell itself, they see bingge and shen yuan get together and suddenly the most negligent terrible boyfriend in the world is buying flowers and posting corny pictures on Instagram and proposing a few months into the relationship.

Shen yuan: I can't believe I managed to bag someone as handsome beautiful and loving as binghe. He wakes up at 6am every morning to get started on breakfast so he can feed me in bed. He's so attentive I worry I'm taking advantage of him. How did he get broken up with so often? No one appreciates people like binghe

Everyone else binghe has ever dated: I told him I got stabbed and he left me on read

[sonarspace]

INK & SKIN (FT. CHOSO & GETO)

synopsis. who better to give you your first tattoo than choso's roommate, who walked in on you and choso a week ago. (can be read with or without the prequel) wc. 2.7k content. college au. choso x reader. geto x reader. choso x geto. choso x geto x reader. 3söme. ōral (deep thrōat. cūnnilingus.) slight vōyeurism. slight ëxhibitionism. unprotėcted. and just messy.

it had been a few days since the party, and you found yourself spending almost every night with choso, wrapped up in each other as if the world outside didn’t exist. tonight was no different; the warmth of his body against yours felt intoxicating.

as your fingers traced over the intricate designs of his chest tattoo, a thought crossed your mind. “you know, i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo,” you said softly, your eyes drifting over the ink.

choso raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. “my roommate's a tattoo artist. i could take you to his shop.”

it was late, the kind of quiet that made you feel like the world was pausing just for you. choso walked beside you, flipping the "closed" sign on the door as you both entered the shop. your eyes scanned the room until they landed on none other than geto—headphones on, working on a stencil.

you froze. shit. it was him. the same guy who walked in on you and choso, his heated gaze still lingering in your mind.

“i think he’s busy, let’s go,” you muttered, turning away, but choso chuckled.

“he doesn’t bite,” choso teased.

before you could make a move, geto pulled out his headphones, casually greeting both of you. “hey,” he said to choso. his gaze furrowed as it landed on your back. choso nudged you to turn around, and geto’s eyes widened slightly, recognition dawning. it’s her. he swallowed hard, the memory of that night flashing in his mind. “hey…” your name slipped from his lips, voice smooth as silk.

geto stood up, the sound of his chair scraping lightly against the floor as he moved. he walked over, extending a hand first to choso with a casual smile, then to you. his fingers were cool against your skin as he shook your hand, his eyes holding yours for just a second longer than necessary. “nice to meet you... officially,” he said.

choso leaned back against the counter, watching the exchange with a smirk playing at his lips. “so, think you can fit her in tonight?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

geto’s gaze flickered from choso back to you, a slow smile forming. “i think i’ve got time for her,” he replied, turning toward his station. “what were you thinking of getting?”

your heart pounded as you tried to focus, but all you could think of was that night—his eyes meeting you in the mirror, the way he’d watched.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at choso, who gave you an encouraging nod. “i was thinking about something small. maybe somewhere hidden, like on my ribs or hips,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

geto nodded, pulling out a sketchpad. “i can draw something up for you. any ideas?”

as you described what you had in mind, you noticed the way he focused, his brows furrowing slightly as he concentrated. there was something magnetic about him, drawing you in.

“i think i can work with that,” he finally said, a thoughtful expression on his face. he began sketching, his pencil moving across the paper.

as geto worked on the design, sketching a few different styles, choso moved closer to you. he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. “are you nervous?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, humming lowly. “i can feel your pulse racing,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin. “just calm down. geto’s good at his job.”

you tried to steady your breath, but his touch only made it harder.

geto finished up, glancing over at you and choso, a smirk playing on his lips. “you two look cozy,” he teased. “you can lie down here and let me know where you want it.”

you took a deep breath, your heart racing as you settled onto the tattoo table. “i’d like it on my hip,” you confirmed, glancing up at him.

geto nodded, motioning for you to pull up your shirt slightly. “here?” he asked, placing the stencil just above the peeking band of your pink lacey underwear. the design featured two heart-shaped cherries, intertwining with delicate vines, with the words stems of love written in tiny lettering.

as geto prepped the tattoo gun, choso leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “you’re going to be fine,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze just as the needle touched your skin.

the initial sting made you flinch, but choso’s fingers ran through your hair, his touch calming you. “focus on me,” he murmured. you locked eyes with him, feeling the rhythmic buzz of the gun and the gentle pressure of geto’s hand on your thigh as he began outlining the design.

choso leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. every brush of his lips sent shivers racing down your spine. you could feel geto’s eyes on you, and when he shot you that teasing smile, your heart skipped a beat. the buzz of the needle was a wild mix of pain and pleasure, heightening your senses. you bit your lip, feeling the needle glide over your skin while choso’s lips left a trail of warmth against your neck.

“you’re doing great,” geto said, glancing up from his work. the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between pleasure and a hint of pain. “i can see you like all this attention, huh?”

“you have no idea,” choso chimed in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you. you playfully smacked his hand, narrowing your eyes at him.

geto chuckled. “i think she loves it, choso. look at that cute little blush.” he glanced up from the tattoo, then returned his focus to his work.

as geto resumed, you shot choso a sly look and mouthed, “you’re evil.”

but you were hyper-aware of geto’s elbow pressed against your thigh, not too far from where the wetness was growing. choso’s eyes flicked down, a chuckle escaping his lips as he noticed you squeezing your thighs together.

choso smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “someone’s getting a bit restless,” he said playfully. you shot him an indignant look, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

geto glanced up. “you’re distracting her,” he said.

“just making sure she’s comfortable,” choso replied, his eyes twinkling. “can’t let my girl get too worked up, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks only deepened.

“want me to make you feel good?” choso asked, his voice dropping low and sultry. before you could process his words, he moved behind the table, leaning down so his face was upside down, locked on yours. he gripped your jaw gently, his thumb brushing your lips.

you tried so hard not to squirm, to stay still as geto almost finished working on your tattoo.

“we can multitask,” choso murmured against your lips. his eyes flicked to geto’s hand as he finished the last details of the tattoo. choso's lips paused above yours as geto spoke up.

“all done”. he cleaned up, wrapping your new ink. you whispered, “want him to join us”.

choso’s smile widened as he glanced up at geto, both of them exchanging silent words. you sat up, your heart racing, with both of them now flanking you on either side. the intensity of their gazes made you want to sink into the ground—or more so, want them to sink into your holes and fill you up. “fuck,” you half-whined, crossing your legs as both of them looked down at you, matching chuckles escaping their lips.

geto tilted your chin toward him, tipping your head up to kiss you while choso pressed a kiss against your neck. you whined into geto's mouth, and choso smiled against your skin, trailing kisses from your neck to geto's neck.

you felt the world around you fade away, leaving just the three of you lost in the intimacy of it all.

geto’s grip tightened on the back of choso’s neck, pulling him closer as he joined the kiss. choso leaned in, their lips brushing against yours and each other’s, making you press against them. both of their hands moved over your front, palming your tits.

you pulled back from the kiss, gripping both their necks, forcing them to kiss each other while their hands roamed over your tits, squishing and teasing. leaning back on your arms, a moan escaped your lips as you pressed your knees into their crotches, feeling their growing hardness against you, fueling the heat building between the three of you.

they pulled away from the kiss, the three of you chuckling as your eyes locked. you slid off the table, standing between them. fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers as you helped each other strip away layers, laughter mixing with the heat of the moment. clothes hit the floor in a messy heap, walking the line between what was and what was about to be.

choso pulled you closer, lips crashing against yours, hands roaming your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he deepened the kiss.

your head spun, his taste intoxicating. geto’s body brushed against you, breath hot against your ear as he pressed kisses over your earlobe, licking the shell and pulling your hair back to shower kisses along your neck. his hands slid down to your panties, pushing your leg to angle you further apart while choso devoured your mouth.

“on your knees, choso,” he drawled. choso complied, pulling down your panties as he sank to his knees.

“grind on his face.” his voice dripped with authority— you’d jump off a cliff if he asked.

choso’s hands gripped your thighs, tugging you forward to sit on his face. geto watched, a smirk on his lips, as you tangled your fingers in choso’s hair, doing exactly as you were told.

with a slight tug, geto positioned himself behind choso, pulling him away from your slick heat to let a glob of his saliva drip onto choso’s tongue. “fuck it into her,” he commanded.

choso wasted no time, pushing his tongue between your folds and past that tight clench, mixing geto's saliva with your arousal. you rolled your eyes back, falling forward, one hand gripping the tattoo bed, the other clutching geto’s arms.

geto guided your hand down to the hardness in his boxers, letting you feel him. he tugged it down, and you moaned at the sight of him—slightly curved, flushed, such a pretty red. you wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth.

leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. the weight made you dizzy, thoughts swirling around how he would feel buried deep inside you.

your hand slid up and down his shaft, and the way he twitched under your touch made your heart race. you leaned in closer, pressing soft kisses along the tip, feeling the warmth radiate against your lips. you wanted him—needed him—so badly that it made your mouth water.

“fuck, you’re driving me insane,” geto breathed, and you looked up to see the heat pooling in his gaze. with a teasing smile, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head, savoring the salty pre-cum that dripped from him.

the sound of choso’s hungry moans vibrated against your core, slick pooling between your thighs and on the sides of his face. choso gripped your thighs tighter, tugging you closer as his tongue flicked at your sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“just like that,” geto encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “keep going.”

you obeyed, bobbing your head up and down on geto’s cock while choso worshiped your pussy. the air around you was filled with slurping sounds and moans, echoing through the tattoo parlor.

“god, you taste so fucking good,” choso groaned, and you felt your core tighten at his words. you could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he desperately tried to push you closer to the edge.

“just a little more,” geto coaxed, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you deeper. you complied, relaxing your throat.

then, suddenly, choso pulled away from your cunt. he shifted, pushing his mouth between geto's thighs. he focused on geto's balls, sucking gently while flicking his tongue against them.

“f-fuck,” geto stammered, his breath hitching. the feeling of choso's mouth working so eagerly drove him wild. in a moment of pure instinct, he bucked his hips forward, pushing deeper into your mouth.

you gagged, the pressure overwhelming as you struggled to take him fully.

geto pulled you off his cock, a lustful glint in his eyes. “get back on the table,” he commanded, guiding you to sit back on the tattoo bed. choso adjusted his position behind geto, pressing kisses along his back and shoulders.

geto moved between your thighs, his mouth watering at the sight of you. “no wonder choso’s barely home,” he groaned, diving into your soaked folds.

the moment his tongue made contact, you gasped, back arching as geto began to devour you. his mouth moved hungrily, drinking you in as if you were the sweetest nectar.

choso watched, mesmerized by the way you writhed under geto's touch. before you could comprehend it, two tongues were stimulating your cunt, overwhelming your senses.

your hands tangled in their hair, pulling them closer as one tongue plunged into you and the pressed at your clit. you felt that sweet release building, threatening to spill over. geto's fingers flicked at your sensitive nipple, making you whimper.

with a desperate cry, you came, your body shaking as the orgasm rippled through you. they lapped at you like starved men, alternating between kissing your soppy cunt and each other. you could barely pull away, feeling overstimulated.

they both pulled away, breathless, their lips glistening with your release. leaning up, their mouths met yours in a messy, wet kiss that tasted of you.

hands tangled in each other's hair, you all deepened the kiss, tongues sliding against one another. spit spilled from the corners of your mouths as you breathed each other in, soft whines escaping your throats, blending into one another.

geto pulled back, lifting you with ease as he guided you to the couch. you sank into the cushions, and he knelt between your thighs while choso settled beside you, sitting on his knees on the couch. gripping geto’s chin, choso pulled him toward his cock. as geto began thrusting into you, he found a steady rhythm, and choso mirrored it, fucking geto’s mouth in sync. geto pushed deeper inside you while choso tugged at his hair, urging him to take more.

the room was thick with the messy sounds of pleasure—sloshing, gagging, moaning, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin. geto's cock slid deeper inside you, perfectly in sync with choso fucking his mouth. choso gripped your chin, kissing you softly as he whispered, “such a sweet girl, taking him so well.” your moan vibrated against his lips, completely lost in the pleasure.

"suguru,” you cried out, your voice trembling as the tight coil inside you snapped. your body tightened around geto, spilling a low, needy groan, muffled by choso’s cock.

he pulled out of you, his mouth slipping off of choso’s length. both of them watched in awe as your cunt fluttered, drenched in your juices. the sight of you, head laid back on the couch, breathless, had them both groaning in unison. without breaking eye contact, the two raven-haired men stroked themselves, hot, sticky ropes spilling across your stomach and thighs, coating your skin in a messy sheen of white.

they let out soft, satisfied groans as they came down from their highs, fingers grazing over the mess they’d made. with a smirk, they brought their slicked fingers to your lips. you eagerly sucked them clean, gripping their wrists tightly, eyes rolling back at the mixed taste of you and them.

they moved closer, their lips pressing against yours, tongues intertwining in a hot, messy kiss. you all let out amused chuckles as you fumbled to connect. you pull back, looking between them with a soft smile as you stroke their cheeks, whispering, “my pretty boys.” the affection in your voice makes them both grin.

an. might be my last kinktober fic until 31st oct cause my schedule's getting really hectic *cries* more kinktober fics -> here! ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[kingkat12]

seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex

summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?

word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10

a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store. 

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles. 

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting. 

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs. 

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine," 

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor. 

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him. 

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled,  and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere.  "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice." 

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw," 

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest. 

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such a strong need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much? 

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt. 

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more. 

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality. 

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing up any time soon. 

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there," 

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine. 

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness. 

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all. 

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down. 

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go. 

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better. 

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car. 

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets. 

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks," 

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air. 

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly. 

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing," 

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag. 

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn. 

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had. 

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?" 

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."

My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"

It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile. 

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

 I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends. 

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together. 

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold. 

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!" 

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial? 

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us. 

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar. 

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie." 

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch. 

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose. 

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered. 

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair? 

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet. 

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others. 

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public. 

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath. 

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled? 

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip. 

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this? 

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10!<33 thank you for reading!!)

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[holylulusworld]

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (2)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: shy reader, fluff, getting to know each other, implied innocent reader

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

“She was small, but strong,” while you describe your attackers to Lestrade, Sherlock won’t leave your side. He stands behind you, his hands on the backrest of the chair you’re sitting on.

“Can you describe her features? Her hair and clothes maybe,” Inspector Lestrade asks as he looks at your husband for confirmation to interrogate you.

“I got something better.” You shove your sketchbook toward the Inspector. He thumbs through the sketches you drew. “You’re quite talented, Mrs. Holmes.”

Your cheeks heat up when Lestrade looks at a drawing of your husband.

“You can draw?” Sherlock looks at the drawing, wondering what else he doesn’t know about you.

“It’s nothing…I…only do it when I’m alone and got nothing else to do. Mrs. Demeter won’t let me anywhere near the kitchen, or the garden. So, I draw from my memory.”

“Impressive, Mrs. Holmes,” Lestrade exclaims as he looks at the drawing of the woman running into you. “You got her features, even her eyes.”

“My thank you, Inspector,” you try not to squeal in joy when he looks at the drawing of your attacker in awe. “This is too kind of you.”

“You’re very talented,” Sherlock places his hand on your shoulder, making your heart flutter at the compliment. Hearing it from Lestrade was nice, but your husband’s praise means so much more to you. “We should get you more drawing utensils.”

“Sir, that’s kind of you but,” you shy away from your husband, and drop your gaze as the Inspector looks at you, “I don’t need more.”

Sherlock clears his throat, disappointment barely hidden on his features. You seem to pull away anytime he tries to do something nice for you.

“We will discuss this later. If I want to spoil my wife, I’ll do it.”

Lestrade drops his eyes to the drawing of your attacker again. “Mrs. Holmes, can I take the drawings of them with me?”

“Oh, of course, Inspector. You can keep them if it helps you find them,” you carefully remove the pages from the sketchbook.

“Have a look around, Precious. I want you to choose all the utensils you’ll need for drawing.” You know he means well, but you don’t want to be in public after you got attacked and feel uneasy as everyone seems to watch Sherlock walk you around.

“Sir…can we go back home? I don’t need anything,” you murmur, not daring to speak any louder.

“Are you unwell,” Sherlock asks and dips his head to look at you. “We can get the utensils later. I want you to have everything you wish for.”

You don’t dare tell him that all you want is his attention and for Sherlock not to leave you alone at the large house. “I’d love to go home, Sir.”

“Precious, please stop calling me Sir,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re my wife now, call me Sherlock. I want us to get to know each other better. In any way.”

Heat floods your face. Your cheeks feel hot, and you make an odd noise. “In any way,” you whisper and touch your hot cheek. "I-I..." You don't know what to say, so you nod and let him guide you toward the carriage waiting for you.

“Sir, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Demeter follows your husband around the house. He insisted on sharing his bedroom with you since you got robbed, and she’s not having it. “This is inappropriate! She should sleep in her room! Your wife needs to know her place!”

He raises his voice. “I let you get away with your behavior far too long. Mrs. Holmes and I are married. She’s my wife. You’ll pay her the needed respect, or you are dismissed.”

“You want to let me go?” She asks. “I took care of you for almost ten years. I helped you when you came home drunk or showed all the women you brought home the way out. She’s no different.”

“I think you forgot your place! NEVER,” he yells now and towers over Mrs. Demeter, “compare my sweet and innocent wife with the wenches I brought home to satisfy my needs. I won’t have it!”

You are fast asleep, unaware of the things he throws at the head housekeeper. He storms off, huffing as she follows him. Mrs. Demeter repeatedly apologizes and begs him not to release her from her duty.

“Get out of my sight! I’ll consider accepting your apology in the morning.” Sherlock storms upstairs, panting heavily. He stops in front of his bedroom, taking deep breaths to not scare you.

Sherlock closes his eyes and imagines your face as he tries to control the anger he feels. No, not just anger. There is a beast inside of him telling him to finally claim his bride, but he cannot treat you like all the women he had before you.

"I need to do this right..."

You stir in your sleep, but he shushes you. “Sleep. I need you well rested when we meet my brother and sister. It’s going to be an exhausting day.”

“Sherlock?” You murmur.

“Precious and so sweet,” Sherlock whispers as he moves closer to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Tempting too.” He nuzzles his face in your neck. “I’m going to taste your sweetness soon, my love.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[saturnitiez]

Unexpected Scenery?

so i really like photography… hence the inspiration for this …

The reader is a photographer in this😌

i’m also going to pretend that Kamera’s act like digital kameras for this💀

GOD THIS IS SO BAD I CANT

You always see him. Everyday, without fail, you see him around his home tribe, "Scions of the Canopy."

You don’t know much of him, other than he had been chosen to fight against the abyss. He was notable for taking commissions that usually collect dust.

Kinich was often described as a taciturn man by others labeling him as rather mysterious in a way. The only real way to notice him is from this obnoxious voice that is always found by him.

Ajaw was very loud, you’d be surprised if someone told you he hated all the attention he’d sometimes gain from it.

By the looks of it, Kinich and Ajaw don’t get along very well. Whenever you see them, they’re always arguing over one thing or another.

Ajaw is akin to a toddler, always causing a ruckus and throwing fits. Kinich is a cool-headed, confident man. How exactly did they end up together??

You dismissed the thought as you sat on the edge of that platform that sits below the reputation center. You hear the thundering footsteps of Mayta, as he runs past you multiple times.

'That reckless child..'

You shake your head as he continues his 'training' as he calls it. You often come down here to admire the view and keep an eye on the child when you're not busy.

As you look over your shoulder, eyes following Mayta, you see a green flash out of your peripheral. Smiling as you turn your head to see him.

Kinich always come swinging towards the reputation area looking for work.

"Ten points for agility.!" 🤓☝️

You hear from above you, followed by an annoyed sigh.

"Do you ever shut your mouth?" Kinich retorts.

A small laugh escapes you as you hear Ajaw huff. You always found their bickering so entertaining.

As their voices get farther away, you go back to focus on the scenery in front of you. The sun setting in just the right way, making the sky a beautiful purple. A sight for sore eyes really.

You quickly take put your Kamera to snap a picture of the breathtaking view.

Snap!

You continue to admire the view, losing track of time.

Just as you’re about to look at the picture you took earlier, you hear running footsteps and a familiar bickering duo.

You wait for the footsteps to get closer, and as Kinich steps off the ledge and onto his first grapple swing-

Snap! Snap! Snap!

You smile as you put the Kamera down, swinging your feet over the edge like a child, excited to see the shot.

The sun is going down rather quickly though, and it wouldn’t be the best idea to stay out any longer..

You decide to head back up and go inside before it gets too dark, and so you can examine your newest photos.

As you reach the top deck, you’re bombarded with an obnoxious dragon in your face, screaming at you.

You let out a surprised shriek as you almost swat at it, taking much willpower in you to not.

“The audacity! How dare you, feeble human, take a photo of me, the great K’uhul Ajaw, without his permission?!” It screams.

You let out an awkward laugh, something you always do when you’re nervous.

“Are you some sort of creep?! A stalker maybe!?”

“No- not at all!” You retort.

“I was simply taking a photo of the sky and you just so happen to interrupt it.”

“YOU- YOU..” Ajaw stomps his little feet in protest.

His anger is short lived after he grabbed and tossed aside by that pretty familiar face.

“Leave them alone.” He says with an exhausted sigh.

Archonspleasetellmehedidn’tnotice

“So.. about that photo.”

“I promise it wasn’t anything creepy- it was just a really pretty sunset and i wanted to take a photo, then i saw you swing by.. and i thought it would make for a nice photo then-“ You rambled in a panic.

“It’s fine.” He cuts you off.

You can’t tell if he’s mad, his voice sounds so monotone..

“I just want to see the photo. I feel that’s a fair price since it was taken without my permission.”

“..oh.! nono yeah of course-!” You sigh out in relief.

You pull your Kamera back out of your bag and flip to the gallery. You get closer to him, shoulders barely touching, and face the same way he is so you can show him the photos.

He leans down a bit as you show him tho photos. You can’t read his expression at all and it makes you nervous.

“THOSE LOOK LIKE AS-” The dragon, thankfully, couldn’t finish his insult as he was sent flying by Kinich.

“They look nice. He meant to say they look nice.” He says as he looks at you.

You back up to where you were earlier and then you really realize just how beautiful he looks, especially when the sunset is still barely there.

You caught yourself staring, i mean who wouldn’t?

“Uhm- anyways! Thank you, i’m sorry, and uh- goodnight to you-” You say quickly as you turn your back and walk away with a quick pace. You were definitely embarrassed after that.

“Time to bury myself in a ditch!” - you (probably)

Your hurry caused you to miss the slight blush that tinted his ears and small, but soft smile he had adorned.

[puckinghischier]

alli there is this idea in my head and since I love how you write Nico I wish you could write this

there is a Gracie Abrams song called In Between and I’ve been thinking about a headcanon or something based on that song so it’s like gracie is describing yours and Nico relationship

it’s such a cute song describing two people falling in love and to me it screams falling in love with Nico

really hope you could do something with this request ❤️

this is such a cute request and i hope this is at least semi close to what you were thinking of 🫶🏼

(i kinda manipulated the lyrics and left some out of certain sections just so it would make more sense/flow better)

I just can’t come between em’, they got their own thing; I wish he’d stop pretendin’, he won’t let his phone ring for more than a couple seconds oh I think maybe two

Nico drags behind his teammates as they come off of the ice, hearing the various grunts and complaints about needing an ice bath and a shower.

He smirks to himself as he makes his way to his locker, taking his time, watching the hoard of sweaty hockey players quickly trickle out of the room. Taking a peek behind his shoulder, making sure he’s mostly alone in the large room, he pulls his phone out of his bag, making sure he has no missed calls or messages.

“Cap! Thought you said no phones in the locker room this season? Or does that only apply to us lowly alternates and unlettered players?” Jack pokes fun at his captain, slapping a hand on Nico’s back, startling him.

Sliding his phone out of sight, he turns to greet Jack. “Just checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything important,” Nico gives a nervous smile.

Jack eyes Nico skeptically. “C’mon, Neeks. You’re acting like a lovesick fool. Just ask her out already.”

“Jack, I told you it’s not like that. She’s just…nice to talk to,” Nico won’t meet Jack’s expectant eyes, focusing his attention on the wooden cubby for any vibration or buzz of his phone against the hardwood.

Ever since the night he met you at one of the post-game trips to the bar, Jack knew Nico was smitten, encouraging him to do something before someone else came along and whisked you away under his nose.

“Bullshit. You’ve been glued to your phone for weeks now. Every time you hear even the slightest indication your phone is ringing, you’re jumping at the chance to answer it,” Jack calls him out on his eagerness.

“I have not been! I’m just-“ Nico’s defensive tone is cut short by the quiet ring of his phone, head snapping over to where it rests next to his helmet. His hand immediately shoots out to grab it, smiling when he sees your name on the screen.

“Hey! I was just thinking about giving you a call. Just got done with practice and was wondering if you wanted to-“ Nico stops mid-sentence after hearing Jack clear his throat, already having forgotten where he was and that Jack was standing right behind him.

Jack raises his eyebrows at his friend, giving him a much deserved ‘I told you so,’ look.

“Hang on a second, okay?” Nico puts his hand over the speaker of his phone, addressing Jack. “Can you just go shower already? This proves absolutely nothing. It’s an isolated incident,” he whispers, not wanting you to be hinted to the previous conversation.

Jack shakes his head, laughing. “Whatever you say, Cap. Hi, y/n!!” Jack shouts out as he walks towards the showers, hearing you return his greeting with a small giggle through Nico’s phone, wondering when the two of you are finally going to admit your feelings for each other.

I wish that you could see ‘em, their faces lighten up; Their past is cold and empty, they know it’s been enough; Of waitin’ on somebody, someone who doesn’t care; But he knows her name, she knows he’ll always be there

“Y/n, when are you finally going to lock that man down? You know he’s absolutely obsessed with you, right?” your best friend asks you, watching Nico glide across the ice.

Your cheeks involuntarily turn red, not knowing how to respond to her. You know how you feel about Nico, but you can’t just assume that he feels the same way. “You don’t know that. He’s just a nice guy. He could act like this towards all of his friends.”

No sooner than the words leave your mouth, Nico makes eye contact with you from across the ice. His face breaks out into the widest grin you think you’ve ever seen, your own matching his. You give him a small wave, his gloved hand returning the gesture as you watch Jack skate up to his side. The disappointment settles in your stomach the second his bright eyes are no longer focused on yours, trying really hard not to be mad at Jack, considering they are working right now.

Your best friend, witnessing the entire interaction, has her own smile on her face, knowing that you deserve someone like Nico in your life after your previous relationship endeavors. You’ve been hurt time and time again due to how quickly you become attached, always seeing the best in the worst people. Nico is different, though. She can see how much he wants to make you happy, how kind he is. If any man’s face lights up like that when looking at you, there’s a 100% chance he’s already in love with you.

Which is why, when her and Jack catch each other’s eye, a silent understanding is passed between the two, a small nod of confirmation shared.

Jack feels the same way about Nico as your best friend does about you. Nico deserves someone like you after all of his past failed relationships. All of the girls taking advantage of his loving nature and kindness because they want the status that comes with dating a professional athlete, moving on to the next sport when they get bored with Nico. Jack having been there to pick up the pieces, Nico getting far too attached far too quickly with all the wrong people. But watching the way you always look at Nico, like he’s the only person in every room you’re in, he knows you’re someone Nico needs to keep around.

So, Jack starts putting his part of the unspoken plan into motion.

“Go, do it now,” Jack encourages Nico.

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Nico turns to face Jack, trying to not be annoyed he’s stealing his attention away from you.

“Ask her out, duh? Now’s the time. She can’t say no in front of all these people, right?” Jack gives him a slight push, skating him right over to the glass.

“I don’t want her to say yes because she’s been put on the spot, Jack. I want her to say yes because she genuinely has feelings for me,” Nico protests, trying to stop himself from being pushed towards you.

His efforts are pointless, hearing Jack yell out “Y/n!!” loud enough that you’re able to hear him through the glass.

“Hi!!” you giggle out, laughing at the pout on Nico’s face.

Nico looks up at you, pout immediately dissolving. “So, can I expect a win tonight or am I going to end up being some kind of bad luck charm, since it’s my first game?” you shout at Nico, being brave and taking your friend’s encouragement to heart, attempting to be a little flirtatious.

“Are you kidding me? You could never be bad luck. If anything, I think this will be our best game this season,” Nico perks up a bit, skating a little closer to the glass, wishing the barricade wasn’t there, wanting to hear your voice and see your blushing cheeks without the slight blur from the scratched surface.

“I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure,” you laugh out, unconsciously leaning forward, focused on how much you love the way Nico’s hair flares out in little tufts on either side of his helmet.

“No pressure, just the truth,” Nico shrugs. He catches Jack out of the corner of his eye, remembering the younger forward’s words as he was pushed over here against his will. The small look of expectancy on Jack’s face pushes Nico to take the risk, deciding he’s done tiptoeing around his feelings for you.

“In fact, after we win this game due to the luck you have running through your veins, why don’t I take you out for a celebratory dinner? Or drinks? Or ice cream? Or whatever you want?” Nico starts rambling, his nerves sky rocketing once he sees the soft surprise take over your features.

You’re beginning to think the blush on your face is permanent at this point, feeling it grow deeper at his question. You’re trying to think of a clever response, not wanting to seem too eager, but you blurt out “Ice cream!” before your brain can stop your mouth.

Nico chuckles in both relief and amusement.

“Uhm, I mean, that sounds fun,” you try to recover. “As long I’m not blamed when this supposed ‘good luck’ backfires on everyone.”

Nico shakes his head, assuring you that’s not possible. The sound of the buzzer signaling warm ups are over startles you, feeling embarrassed at how much you jumped.

“Meet me after the game, okay? I’ll be in the tunnels, waiting,” Nico shouts before he skates off, giving a small wave.

Watching him glide away, something tugs at your stomach, telling you he’ll always be there waiting for you. Not just after games. Not just tonight.

Jack and your best friend look at each other through the glass, having witnessed the whole conversation. You’re so focused on Nico’s retreating figure that you don’t notice the air high five they give each other.

She toes the line between em’, he says he’s new at this; There’s holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss; He hates it when she’s crying, he hates when she’s away; Even at their worst, they know they’ll still be okay

It’s your first time dealing with Nico being on the road for this long (over a week) since your impromptu ice cream date months ago. They ended up winning the game, so Nico kept his promise. By the time the game ended, however, every ice cream parlor he drove you to was closed.

He ended up taking you to the grocery store, telling you to pick out any flavor you wanted, and he’d take you back to his apartment for an ice cream party. He casually bought 10 half gallons of ice cream, because he claimed he couldn’t decide on a flavor. He set up an extravagant topping bar, too, and did a whole bit as if he worked in an ice cream shop.

Ever since that night, your ice cream dates became a routine, meeting him at his apartment after home games, bad days, and just nights you wanted to see him. The two of you were determined to eat through all of the ice cream he bought, Nico complaining that all the extra sugar was slowing him down on the ice.

Tonight, however, you were sitting in your apartment with your best friend, upset because you haven’t heard from Nico in three days.

“I’m sure they’re just busy, Y/n. I have a hard time believing Nico would just ghost you,” she tries to reason with you, not liking how down you seem.

“I thought that on day one, then again on day two. But then you came over and Jack has been messaging you for the past hour, so they’re obviously not busy right now,” you huff out, staring at your cold, black screen.

Despite how much time the two of you have been spending together, nothing has really changed between the two of you. There’s never been a conversation about what the cuddles on his couch mean, or the fact that you’ve been coming to all of his games that are in Jersey. You never discussed what it meant when he gave you one of his jerseys to wear, and you still haven’t given it back. Not a word about it was shared the night you tagged along to the bar with him and the rest of the team and he drove you home, walking you to your door because you were a little too tipsy, only a small goodbye shared after you stood in your doorway, staring back at him for an eternity.

“Well, Nico is the captain. Maybe he’s got other stuff going on that Jack doesn’t. Do you want me to ask Jack why-“

“No!” you’re quick to interrupt. “I don’t want him thinking I’m some level 3 clinger when we’re not even dating.”

She just rolls her eyes, everyone but the two of you aware that you’re basically dating without the label.

“Alright, I won’t. It was just a suggestion,” she puts her hands in the air, surrendering.

Looking at your phone again, you sigh at the lack of activity.

“They’re coming back tonight anyways, right? Maybe he’ll call when he gets back in. He might be asleep on the bus or something. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is,” you reassure yourself.

You best friend texts Jack anyways, tired of seeing you freak out over this, wanting to know why Nico just suddenly went radio silent on you the last three days of their roadie.

~~

“Neeks,” Jack nudged Nico, knowing he was awake.

“What? I told you I just wanted to be left alone to sleep. I’m tired,” Nico snapped, his mood matching yours, even from miles away.

“Okay, mr pouty butt, no need to take my head off,” Jack responded, earning an eye roll from Nico. “Just wanna know why you’re in such a bad mood when you know you can call Y/n at anytime.”

Nico hadn’t talked to you in three days and it was killing him. Luke had made a comment about how often he called you, sometimes two to three times a day, and it made him worried he was being annoying, considering the two of you weren’t even officially together. But, he hadn’t heard from you, either, so he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence incase you really did think he was being clingy.

“I’m just…giving her space,” Nico shrugged, not wanting to get into the details with Jack on the slightly smelly bus.

“Whatever you want, man, but maybe you should call her when we get back. Just so she knows you’re not ghosting her,” he advises, not wanting to tell him that you’re sitting at home pouting just like he is. He didn’t want you to find out your best friend had betrayed your trust, either.

It’s like an alarm went off in Nico’s head. He never once thought that you’d think he just up and quit talking to you for no reason. Or because he didn’t want to. Because god, did he want to. All he ever wanted to do was talk to you. First thing in the morning, before he goes to bed at night, when he’s bored, when he sees a stray cat, when he passes by your favorite bakery, when he sees someone with a cup from your favorite coffee shop, always. He always wants to talk to you.

“Shit, you’re right,” Nico sits up, grabbing his phone and opening your contact.

~~

“Uhh…he’s calling me,” you blurt out, finally seeing the Nico’s contact picture pop up on your phone screen, watching his smiling face with whipped cream everywhere stare back at you. “What do I do?”

“Answer it, dummy!” your best friend rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know if I want to,” you tell her, still just watching it ring. “He did just ghost me for three days, what if it makes me look pathetic?”

“Oh my god you’re not going to look pathetic, just answer the damn phone!”

You watch the phone screen go black, the decision being made for you.

“Well, I guess that answers that one. Or…doesn’t answer it,” you look up at her.

“I swear, you’re both so helpless,” she groans out, raking her hands down her face in frustration.

“Maybe he’ll get a taste of his own medicine,” you say, the taste of the words on your tongue bitter, knowing you should have just answered the phone.

“Whatever, I’m going to pick up Jack. He said they just got in, incase you were wondering,” she tells you before leaving your apartment, leaving you to sulk alone, again.

~~

Nico rushes over to your apartment, praying that you’re still awake so he can fix this. After you didn’t answer his call, he freaked out, thinking he’s fucked this whole thing up before it even started.

Jack told him to just wait until tomorrow and try to call you again, but Nico needed to fix this now.

Nico barely puts his car in park before he’s running into your building, pressing the elevator button over and over again in hopes it’ll make the door open faster. Once he finally reaches your floor, he’s speed walking straight to your door, knocking on it like his life depends on seeing your face.

“Y/n! It’s me!” he tries not to shout, but he makes sure he speaks loud enough for you to hear him through the door. “Please open up. I wanna see you. Wanna talk to you,” he pleads.

He’s about to start the harsh assault on your door again, at this point trying to wake you up in case you had gone to sleep, just needing to see you and fix all of this.

He hears the lock click, his breath catching in his throat.

When you open the door, he’s met with you clad in your pajamas and hair haphazardly thrown on the top of your head in a knot. You look confused, not expecting to see him outside of your door this late at night.

“Nico?” is all you say, not knowing how else to react.

“Hey,” he breathes out, thinking about how cute you look right now, even if there is a frown on your face.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, is something wrong? Didn’t you just get back? Why aren’t you home right now?” he sees you staring at his tired eyes with sympathy.

“I had to see you,” is all he can manage to say, not exactly having a plan.

He hears the small giggle come out of your mouth, loving the sound.

“Okay, well here I am,” you respond to him, switching your weight from one foot to the other.

Nico shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “I had to see you, and fix this.”

He watches your face morph into confusion. “What do you mean?”

Maybe he was just being paranoid? And dramatic?

“This. Us. The fact that we haven’t spoken in three days,” he starts, knowing he was right when you stand a little taller, like you were bracing yourself. “I swear, I didn’t mean to just go silent on you. Luke got in my head, made me think I was being annoying. I got a little crazy thinking about how ‘we’re not even dating, why am I being so clingy right now?’, but then I realized, I want to be clingy. I want to talk to you every hour of every day. I want to be dating you.”

He hears your gasp. “You…what?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” he speaks softer and slower this time. “Hell, according to Jack I basically already am. But I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

He watches the tears fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. No, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he reaches forward, pulling you into a hug.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not-“ you can’t finish your sentence, Nico squishing your face into his chest.

“I’m new to all this, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, I don’t have much experience actually dating people. I didn’t want to scare you away by moving too fast, but then I kinda did the opposite, huh?” he keeps talking, his nerves getting the best of him once again.

“Nico, listen to me,” you pull back, looking up to meet his brown eyes. “I want this too.”

Nico breaks into a smile so wide you think his skin is going to split.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” you confess. “I don’t know how to get used to you being gone all the time, I don’t know how to have these conversations, I don’t know how to keep myself from falling so fast, but I want to figure out how to do it with you.”

He wipes at the tears under your eyes. “Even if they’re happy tears, I don’t like seeing them in your eyes.”

Once again, that blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on your face makes an appearance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call earlier. I was being a brat and trying to give you a taste of your own medicine,” you confess, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, too. For letting Luke get in my head and then pouting because you never called me,” he responds, sounding just as guilty as you feel.

“Promise me we won’t be bratty with each other again? I don’t like it, it seems very out of character for us?” you ask, looking up and resting your chin on his chest.

“Promise,” he tells you, staring down at you.

You move your head back, feeling the moment intensify.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” he whispers.

“Okay.”

His lips feel exactly as you imagined, soft and plush, slotting against your bottom lip perfectly.

As you walk backwards, leading him into your apartment, you can feel the sureness of this. How right it feels. How, no matter what comes at the two of you, no matter if it’s something big or a silly little misunderstanding like tonight, you’ll always come out okay on the other end.

He laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face; She loves how he talks late at night, when there’s no one else to say; How she’s beautiful and funny and smart like nothin’ he’s ever seen; He’s good to her, and she wants it more than everything in-between

“I can’t believe they made us sit through that god-awful play,” you say as Nico unlocks his door. “I mean, the entire thing was in French. I don’t speak French! And neither does Jack! I swear, I love my best friend, I do, but just because she was a French double major in college doesn’t mean everything we do has to be in French.”

Nico chuckles at you, having understood the play quite well. “I told you I could play translator if you wanted me to, but you said no,” he takes off your coat, hanging it on the small set of hooks in his entry way.

“It was more fun to make up my own plot,” you shrug, taking off your shoes and making your way to his couch.

Laughing at you again, Nico makes a pit stop in his kitchen to make both of you a small bowl of ice cream before joining you on the couch.

“You know, I really like it when you wear your glasses, you should wear them more often,” he blurts out, handing you your bowl.

“These bug-eyed things?” you pull a face, earning a real, belly laugh from him. “I’m sorry? Does my face look funny or something?”

He waits until he catches his breath to reply. “Not at all. My beautiful, bug-eyed girlfriend.”

You don’t know why you even buy blush anymore, not ever having to wear any around Nico. “I love that you always say things to give me an ego boost,” you joke.

“I’m being serious,” he responds, the change in his tone confusing you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met, and the funniest jokester I’ve ever interacted with.”

“You did not just seriously call me a ‘jokester’” you deadpan, ruining the moment.

“Hush, woman, I’m trying to compliment you here,” he lightly scolds, earning a laugh from you. “I’m trying to tell you how much I love you, and you’re caught up on my choice of words.”

You’re stunned to silence. “You…love me?”

“Of course I love you? I’d be crazy not to,” he takes the bowl of half-melted ice cream from your hands and places it on the small table in front of you.

“I’d be crazy not to love you back,” you tell him, sliding your arms around his torso as he crawls over to hover over you.

“Glad neither of us are crazy then,” he whispers onto your lips as he meets them in a kiss.

The kiss is slow and sweet, both of you taking your time savoring one another. You can taste the caramel ice cream on his lips, enhancing his already intoxicating taste.

You think about how hard you’ve fallen for this man. You think you fell for him on your first ‘date’, really, just too scared to say anything until now.

Unknown to you, Nico is thinking the same thing, kicking himself for not telling you sooner.

You also think about how much you love living life with Nico. How he always seems to know how to cheer you up when you’re upset. How he brings you coffee and bagels every morning on his way home from workouts. How he plans double date nights with Jack and your best friend, knowing that you feel like you neglect her sometimes, being too caught up in your life with him.

He treats you better than you’ve ever been treated, not being used to having someone be so attentive and all in as he is.

Nico was the surprise you didn’t know you needed. And while you can’t wait to see where the two of you end up in the future, you love the moments like this, and everything in-between.

[nfr-girly]

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader // Jealousy 📚 🖼️

:: masterlist

Summary: Lately, you and Colin have been bonding over art and books, but what happens when a certain Bridgerton gets jealous?

————————————————————————

Benedict never took any interest into deciding to marry, with his family having a tradition to marry for love, not wealth, he had the freedom to focus on his art, without the pressure to find romance.

To him, romance was a burden that held you back from achieving many things, but lately, Benedict had second guessed all his thoughts on love.

For the past few weeks, ever since Colin found out you like to read, you two have been meeting continuously in the gardens to discuss your latest reads. At first, Benedict thought it was nice you and Colin were starting to bond, he was glad you had another bridgerton to confide in, alongside himself. But as days turned into weeks, Benedict felt a burn in his chest as he sees your interest slowly turn away from him, and towards his brother.

Benedict and you had met at an event, you both bonded of your shared liking of the arts, and although to many in the ton, your friendship may have seemed inappropriate, Violet bridgerton never thought for one second your friendship was wrong.

However, friendship seemed to be a heavy understatement to describe what you two had, neither of you would admit it, but you both knew some feelings were there. Your mother was very adamant on you marrying someone with a high status, like a viscount, or duke, which is why she never considered Benedict as a suitor. “He’s a lovely gentleman, but his status is too low, perhaps his brother the viscount would be a better suit for you?” She would say.

Oh but you wish she did approve him. Your feelings for Benedict never went away, every time he was near you felt planets away, just out of reach of something special.

So when the younger brother of Benedict, Colin came to you, taking an interest in your latest read, you didn’t hesitate to start discussing it with him.

You never once thought Benedict and you would ever happen, maybe some time with another bridgerton would help those feelings die down?

As weeks went by, you did miss Benedict, you felt bad you were starting to spend time with Colin more, but every time you and him made eye contact, the longing in your heart grew, and it needed to be contained.

Benedict missed you tremendously, he always tried to find a moment to talk to you, just to know even one thing about what you’ve been up to. But Colin would always steal you away.

What did you even see in Colin that you didn’t see in him? He would listen to you talk about books for hours, if it just meant you’d go back to him.

*at the bridgerton house*

You’re waiting for Colin in the library, looking through some books, when you see in the corner of your eye a tall figure

You turn your head to see Benedict, you haven’t seen or talked to him in a while, both of you freeze seeing one another.

“Benedict. I haven’t seen you for a while, how have you been?” You say to him slowly walking towards him, hoping to make conversation, instead he furiously strides towards you

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He asks with a stern face

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, you’ve spent almost a month going off with Colin talking about god knows what while I’m here missing you like some idiot” he’s mad now, he doesn’t understand why you have to ignore him to hang out with his brother

“I’m sorry, I’m sure we can arrange something-“

“Do you have any idea how much my heart has burned for you? You are the only thing I think about when I go to sleep, the only thing I think about when I wake up and you aren’t even there. I don’t know if I’ve done something but tell me so I can fix it. I’m tired of wishing you weren’t so far away.” Benedict comes to a stop, instantly regretting everything that just came out his mouth

“Do you really feel that way?” You ask, the warmth in you blossoms and that desire to be closer to him now grows

“Of course I have. I’ve felt it since the moment you spoke to me. I know your mother doesn’t want you to be with me, and maybe you don’t want to be with me either, but I won’t deny how I feel, you are the whole reason I breathe, every time you are near time stops and the only thing in the room is you. My mind goes insane because I can’t ignore the fact that I want you-“ before he can say anything else, you grab his shirt and pull him in to kiss him. He widens his eyes, but realising what’s going on, immediately kisses you back. He holds your cheeks to pull you in more. The whole room spins, the only thing you two care about in this moment is eachother.

You pull away and look into his eyes, so much desperation and desire painted across his face

”I’m sorry I’ve been away” you say softly

“It’s okay, you’re mine now, that’s all that matters” he laughs softly as he pulls you in for another kiss, harder than the last. Years of built up desire now let out, pulling the weight off of both your shoulders.

————————————————————————

a/n: it’s Benedict’s season soon 😝 I hope you guys enjoyed thisss! 🫶

[nimbusghoul]

The Nice Soap-Viktor x Bimbo!Reader

Pairing:Viktor x Reader

Type: Fluff TO smut for the entirety

Fandom:Arcane/LoL(more Arcane Vik than LoL Vik, let me have my twink, okay?)

WC:1337 This is just a sneak peek, if you want more, I'll continue to provide, Don't hate me!

Viktor was never one to catch feelings easily, but when you came into his life from being a good friend of Jayce, he began to feel something new.

When Jayce introduced you to him, he didn’t know how to react to your bubbly air headed nature, it was new. Sure, Jayce is charismatic, but he didn’t shine as bright as you did, you could light up the whole room with a personality like that.

Maybe you weren’t the smartest, but you were an amazing listener, and things didn’t seem to get to you very often. Usually just in one ear and out the other, but when you were interested, your body language changed, anyone could tell you were paying attention, even if you usually didn’t fully understand.

You’d turn yourself towards him and lean in again or prop your elbows on the table and put your chin in your hands, kicking your feet a bit, and it was when you would ask most of the questions.

“What’s that?”

“What, a Hex Core?”

“Mhm! I dunno what that is, Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, I understand not everyone has the same knowledge. Ehh, a Hex Core is an adaptive rune matrix with Hextech in the middle…the potential for ultimate advancements in technology!”

“ohhh!… what?? I dunno what that stuff is either, i mean, i know what runes are but…what’s…all the other stuff??”

Viktor took a minute, how would he explain this without making you feel like you had less and less knowledge? He would never want to hurt your feelings, you were too pretty to be sad.

“Hextech uses magic to create artifacts, it’s made up of a special crystal. It can do all kinds of things, not just for me and the hexcore is full of hextech, which means it has all kinds of that magic.”

“Sounds like a lot of math, which i’m not good at. I think I’ll stick to less complex things and let you handle all of that genius people stuff”

You were really the only person who could distract him from his work. He had completely forgotten about the papers in front of him, his focus was on you, even if the papers were the thing you asked about. He realized he doesn’t ever really ask any questions that he had for you

“May I ask you an…odd question?”

“hm, of course! just make sure it’s not too complicated of a question? really big words get me all confused…”

“Of course of course. Those nails of yours, are they real? like, your actual nail? they’re quite long.”

“What? god no, these are made with powder polymethylmethacrylate and a monomer liquid!”

You turned over you hand and tapped on the underside of your nails, Viktor was a little shocked from that long word you managed to string out describing the acrylic powder

“So…they are plastic?”

“Nope! You gotta put the liquid with a bit of the monomer and then put it on top of a guide, sometimes plastic? but I like to use my silicone one because it peels better, and thennn you put the whole thing under UV light for it to harden and they’re so much better than fake plastic nails! fake nails that are plastic feel so icky and come off WAYYY too easy. plus nail glue can fuck up your skin soooo bad!”

“ah, i see, so you know a lot about this topic?”

“Of course! if i’m gonna look pretty I have to be healthy and to be healthy i have to know what Im doing to my body! That’s why I like hate cOsMeTiC sUrGuRiEs cause like everyone is beautiful in their own way and the fact that people think they have to pay to be beautiful is really disgusting! everyone was made to grow differently, just because you don’t look like your neighbor or your pretty classmate doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty or attractive or perfect! But like Botox for headaches is fine, it helps with migraines!”

“I see you feel very strongly about these things, Is there a reason why? Perhaps a connection to memories in which it makes you upset about this topic?”

“Well…I just want everyone to be happy, you know? and if you hate yourself because you don’t look like everyone else…that’s not happy. The only thing that’s truly ugly or unattractive is the way we treat some people, and the awful things we say and do. Ugly doesn’t exist *on* people, it exists *in* people.”

You turned to Viktor after finishing a sentence, a small smile, the first real one you’ve seen, but you decided not to say anything, having an internal celebration instead of external. Celebratory of small victories(or should i say Viktories, okay yeah i’ll see myself out sorry), it was rare to see Viktor smile from what Jayce has told you.

“You are very different from me, and yet i enjoy the company you provide, it’s quite odd, with how different our knowledge is you’d think I would be annoyed with all your questions, but you also have knowledge I don’t. I do not look into what I wear or the lotions, soaps and sanitizers I put on my hands-”

You were quick to accidentally cut him off, suddenly remembering why you came to the lab in the first place, even when it slipped out on the way from your home to the lab.

“OHMYGOODNESS!! I tOTALLY forgot about that! Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, but I wanted to say I got you some new soap because i was reading the ingredients and yours contained formaldehyde!! that’s probably why your hands are always so dry, that is so bad for your skin! I also got you some lotion because they’re so dry from that awful soap…”

You quickly dug through your purse, pulling out a large bottle of moisturizing hand soap and some hand lotion with aloe, quickly placing them on the desk

“I literally went to the market at like 8 this morning because I knew that’s when they first set up so like they weren’t all gone when I got there!”

“You did this for me?”

“pshhh, yeah! and i got my pet some more of those cute special treats, they only get sold like twice during the week and they’re all gone in like an hour. it’s so terrible if I can’t get my sleepy butt up in time to get some!”

“Are they truly that important?”

“Well, my pets are like…my family! they’re like my little babies and I would literally assault whoever the hell runs this universe for my babies?”

“I apologize, I was speaking about the soap.”

“Oh, oops! Yeah, I wanted to get you something nice, plus, all the really nice ones sell out so fast! Especially like when this huuuuge group of wives come through and buy like literally everything nice.”

"Group of...wives?"

"Yeah, like, you know, middle aged women who don't need so much damn soap?"

"Ah..."

he seemed to take a pause to think

"Why...for me? Why not for Jayce?" He asked, looking up at you

"What? Your hands are dry, Jayce doesn't have...all that as an issue...you know?"

He seemed surprised as he thought before laughing quietly

"How are you so sure what my hands feel like? I'm sure Jayce is very touchy...but you know, I am not."

You felt your face heat quickly

"Well, I- they sound dry! You know, when you rub your hands together and it sounds...dry, like you can't hear my hands unless I rub them together really hard!"

He chuckled softly at your embarrassment before standing

"I find it cute that you care. Thank you, Солнышко(sólnyshka)"

-CUTOFF FOR PREVIEW-

[stanpinesdykewife]

Helloo!! So I love love love all of your work you have do on AO3 so much I'm so happy I found you on tumbler! Your writing is absolutely beautiful. I was wondering if you could maybe do a short fluff piece going off of speed dating and easy? Something where reader has had a hard day and isn't up for spicy time and just wants to be taken care of? Just something soft and sweet please and thank yooouuu! 💓🫶🏻💓

hiii!!! giggling at your super sweet compliments thank you so so much! i love the speed dating universe so even though this was sitting half-baked in my drafts for a while this was really nice to write!!! thanks so much for waiting, i hope you like this! under the cut:

boring stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 800 words (bonus: sfw bedtime stan headcanons)

You're in bed, lying on your side, Stan's whole body pressed against yours when you finally squirm away from his lips on your shoulder. He stops, his hand stilling on your waist where he'd bunched up your shirt to touch your bare skin. You're clenching your eyes shut, embarrassed, as a beat of silence passes.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Stan asks from behind you, his voice hesitant. He starts to slide his hand off your waist when you grab it, keeping it there. Stan stops again, but this time sounds confused when he starts, “Uh, did I—”

“No. You didn't do anything, sorry, I'm just…” You struggle to find the words for a second. Another tense pause passes, unusual, even eerie in your normally lively company with Stan. Finally, you sigh. “I'm really tired.”

You hesitate for another moment before tugging Stan's hand over your waist, further underneath your shirt to the bare skin of your stomach. Stan goes along with it, like he always does, just letting you move his arm and press his palm flat to your body. The touch draws another deep sigh from you.

“Tough day, huh?” Stan says, any heat gone from his voice to make room for something softer. He glides his thumb over your stomach and you relax as his breath fans over your shoulder. He's kind of awkward with the emotional stuff, and maybe a little put out by you wriggling away from him a moment ago. You are, too. But Stan's voice is still kind when he offers, “You wanna… I dunno. Talk about it? Vent?”

“I think I just need to lay here,” you mutter, unmoving. Stan hums behind you, idly tracing light arches into your skin.

Then he pulls away, shuffling backwards away from your body towards his (mutually agreed-upon, unspoken) side of the bed. Your brows furrow and you turn to look over your shoulder as Stan gets comfortable on his back. He sighs when his head hits the pillow, then catches your eye. There's a little pink to his cheeks when he opens his arms.

“C'mon, let's get you comfortable,” Stan grumbles, though his eyes are warm. You brighten, just a little, and quickly roll over to lay your chest on his. Stan's big arms come around you as you hug him, pressing your cheek to his collarbone and slinging one leg over his. Once you settle down, the two of you are thoroughly tangled up in each other in a way you can only describe as cozy.

“This is nice,” you sigh, nosing at the base of his neck before letting your head lay comfortably on his shoulder. Stan rubs his hand over your spine, making you melt into him. You yawn.

“Am I boring you?” Stan says, grin in his voice. You laugh through the tail end of your yawn, shaking your head.

“If anything, I'm boring you,” you say, but Stan tuts and cuts you off before you can say anything else.

“None o’ that. I didn't have the energy anyway,” he says, nonchalant. You lean upwards slightly to raise a brow at him, glancing pointedly at the tent in his boxers. Stan grabs the side of your head and shoves you back into his chest, making you laugh. “Ignore that.” 

“I love you,” you say, because it feels like the right thing to say. Stan freezes. You pause, your smile dropping. Was that the first time you've ever said that? “Um… You don't have to—”

“Love you, too, sweetheart—Uh, honey. Honey sweet… sugar. Sugar sweet, syrup baby—bird. Baby bird,” Stan rambles, his voice becoming more strained with every word. You laugh out loud again as he continues, stumbling over the nicknames, “Honey ball, uh, balls—Sugar balls. Candy pie.”

“Sugar balls!” you cackle, trying to shove yourself up again. But Stan tightens his grip on you, one arm pinning you down by your back and the other coming around to keep your head still on his chest as you kick your feet. “Haha, Stan! Let me up, I'm suffocating, I'm dying—”

“I'll see you in the afterlife,” Stan says sagely, then rolls over to pin you under his full weight. You're still laughing, and Stan starts to laugh with you, even as he play-fights his hand over your mouth to get you to stop. You peek up at him, giddiness growing in your chest at the violent flush on his face, the shy fondness in his smile.

You chuckle into his hand and lick his palm, making Stan yelp and rip it away, and you take advantage to wriggle out from under him and shove him onto his side.

You'll get back to cuddling in a few minutes. For now, you're gonna wrestle and laugh and let the person you love make you feel better.

sfw bedtime stan headcanons:

stan loves staying in bed all day when he has someone to do it with, especially since he rarely has off-days between work and the portal and post-canon sailing with ford

he is touch-starveddd and loves laying there doing nothing but cuddling or rolling around or wrestling or... you know... giggles

he doesn't do it often because he does believe in eating food and watching television. but when he does, he's there ALL day

he's gross he has crumbs in his bed you can't look me in the eyes and say he doesn't

i feel like during canon it would be reasonable for him to have developed insomnia... but post-canon i think he'd love sleeping in with VERY specific circumstances. his brother is out solo-exploring for a day, the twins are at a sleepover and don't need breakfast, stan isn't expected to visit the shack? he's sleeping for 20 hours straight

even if he doesn't sleep in i feel like if his partner had the day off or even worked from home and hung out in their room all day stan would absolutely be glued to the mattress

maybe these hcs feel out of character to me just a little bit but consider: you wake up to big beefy arms tugging you closer by your waist and a LOUD ass cozy snore from above your head

giggling about morning breath and trying to push stan off the bed to guzzle some mouthwash

he's embarrassed at first because he has to take his dentures out in front of you and pop em back in in the morning it's a whole thing, but eventually he gets comfortable enough that you're allowed to make the cleaning solution for him at bedtime and offer the glass for him to put the dentures in

sorry if the dentures thing threw anyone off because for a few seconds there it threw me off erm but i'm nothing if not determined to establish my alpha position as old man lover no matter what.

ANYWAY. this list got away from me a little bit

final bed hc stan is not used to sharing a bed with another person he hogs the blankets. as in he'll literally wake you up in the middle of the night because he'll be sleeping and roll over and take all the blankets with him and you will never get to have them again without tugging so hard. he has no idea he does this until you offhandedly mention it months into dating